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Sarah

By: Doofy



I guess everybody have or used to have a neighbourette which is so hot, you’re just dying to get her into your bed or something else.

I had one and for a year or so we had a platonic relationship. You know the one, a lot of laughs, being on the same line, doing a lot of things together……….but just nothing happens. Don’t have me mistaken, I enjoyed that time and I wouldn’t missed it for anything in the world but when you’ve seen Sarah once, you’ll know what I mean. What a babe.

She always has a beautiful smile on her face, a little bit cocky….but that was also her attitude. Sometimes she could be bitchy, but “who’s perfect anyway?” She wasn’t really tall, but she had beautiful legs. Like that wasn’t enough already, she also had huge breasts and a great ass. Nothing to overdone, but plenty of all………in short; she was to die for. 

Every Monday and Thursday we went to a public pool to do some swimming. We always tried to make some ‘miles’ in the water, but usually it was too crowded which made us wind up peddling around in a small tub or pool on the side of the main pool. We just kidded or played around and had a lot of fun. Sometimes there were friends around, sometimes we were alone.

One night, a night I’ll never forget, we were alone. There weren’t even many other folks around and it was a quiet evening in the pool. We even made some ‘miles’. 

After doing so, we retired from the main pool to a smaller one and played together there. Mostly it was trying to hold the other underwater, which must have looked like a wrestling game at least. Still it took no attention from the other people and we were left alone in our quiet corner. The underwaterlights were on and the other lights were dim, which made it beautifully spooky. It was great. 

Being tired from the swimming and ‘wrestling’ we just kinda kept drifting in the pool holding eachother. I suppose we held eachother too close and some spark jumped over. Unfortunetaly I can’t say it was a real fantastic way of two people finally finding eachother. Like I said before, we were holding real close. In fact she had her legs wrapped around my waist and her breast pushed against my breast. That has happened before, but this time we were looking eachother in the eyes and it happened. She looked so hot and feeling her body (in a beautiful Speedo swimsuit, by the way) rubbing to my body made me horny as a toad and I must have said something real stupid like; “I think you’re sweet”. It somehow scared me to death when I said it, but she didn’t break out in laughing or so. I saw a light sparking in her eyes (it really exists) and she pressed her lips against mine and that was the beginning of a beautiful night.

Feeling her lips and running our tongues in a frantic french kiss made me hotter than hot, more like thermonucleair. She felt just the same and ran her hands all over my body. Pulling her body tight to mine she also felt my raging hard on pushing against her, feeling she suddenly stop kissing and she stared at me while a smile slowly showed up on her face and then she began kissing me again. Believe me I was in heaven and went beyond that when I felt her hand slipping into my swimming trunks and grabbing my dick. Slowly she began jacking me off and kept her tongue whirling in my mouth.

Of course, I couldn’t let her do all the work and I moved my right hand and slowly caressed her left breast through that wonderful Speedo while I made my left her slipping under it. Gently I pushed my finger between her lovely lips into her pussy and from her tensing her body and the way she treated my hard on I knew she liked it and wanted more…….much more…… 

Breaking our kiss but not stopping our underwater bussiness, we looked at eachother and telling sweet words suddenly she told me that wanted to fuck me, right there in that pool. It sure is illegal to do, but I thought what the hell. We looked around and still nobody was paying any attention to us so we decided to go on with it. 

While I pushed her swimsuit out of the way, she pulled my dick further out my trunk and held it close to her opening. Kissing her again I slowly pushed my dick between her folds in her hot pussy and kept it sliding in and out. Not to make it too difficult for her I kept the rhythm slow, but she still had to do her best not moan and suck it up, going to fast would have rocked to water too much and we didn’t to attract any attention offcourse. 

It was a beautiful sight, she was lying in the water leaning with her head on the edge of the pool. Her face showed pleasure and love. I was holding her body and I could see my dick sliding in her pussy and her beautiful big breasts stretching the lycra fabric. With the slow pace our coupling took some time till I really couldn’t hold it and I shot my sperm deep in her body, by then she already had two orgasms. While she kinda stood up and wrapped her arms around my head and give me a wonderful french kiss we parted and my dick slipped out of her pussy and I felt the cool water running around it. 

After adjusting our swimmingclothes we decided to head for home while we felt real lucky not being caught. It was summer that time and we almost ran through the dressingrooms only putting a shirt on and grabbing our bags while running to the car. 

While driving home, she had her hand rubbing my crotch again and I sure did my best to get home as fast as possible, even if it had to cost me a ticket.

Soon enough we were at her room and we slammed the door behind her and fell into each other arms again, pulling our shirt over our heads we began making love in “full throttle”.

While dropping my swimming trunk I fell backwards on the bed, while falling I pulled her with me and she fell on top of me. Feeling her hot body in that wet Speedo suit pressed against me, we began turning to make it a “69”. I slowly undid her Speedy and rolled it down her body and her breast fell free at the moment she took my dick in her mouth and began to give me the best blowjob ever. That tongue she gave me superb french kisses with, she raised hell on my dick and I knew I wouldn’t last long allthough I already came back there in the pool. Horny as hell again I pulled her suit from her body and raised my head between her legs and began licking and tasting her sweet pussy. 

While her head bobbed on my dick I kept licking her pussy and ran my hands all over her ass and her breasts. Like I said, unfortunately I didn’t last long and my sperm spurted in her soft mouth. She kept licking and sucking and swallowed it all.

After that we stayed laying on the bed talking and kissing and drank some wine. Late in the evening I made love to her one more time in the “missionary”position which is the best if you simply don’t want to fuck, but merely want to make love. Giving me ample opportunity to kissing her and her breasts while slowly fucking her and listening to hear moans getting louder and louder………………

………….it was the start of a weird realtionship. We didn’t consider ourself a couple and kept doing the things we used to do and made love a lot more times. Something I’ll surely tell you more about…

Sarah



Chapter 1.

Small quantities of love-tunnel oil splashed out of my hole; slowly, hotly, meandering down over the taught orb of my lower buttock.

I could see my coral-colored, puckered, bung-hole blinking spasmodically in the reflection of my bedroom-closet mirror; constricting erratically in anticipation of what I was thinking of doing to it. Secrets from my pooh-pooh hole, or love-tunnel are ones impossible to keep under lock. Those two; my cod-hole, and my stink-box hole, why, they always know, long before I do: Thieves in the night, robbing my mind of its intent; stealing unconscious thoughts and sights of out of my imagination, even before I have condemned my shadowy soul, in the very thinking of them - yet...

Chapter 2.

I was at Nordstrom's; the weekend past. Wearing my skimpiest mini-skirt: No panties, of course -- alas.

I feel so--free--when I walk down the street: Carrying my firm buttocks on top of my thighs with me: A bounce in my step: Flipping the skirt up at the back, like an early-spring foal, propelling its tail into the air, as it romps effortlessly about its mother, in a field of their own.

I revel in the feeling of freedom, as cool, breezy, wafts caress my bare buttocks; windy tendrils flowing over tight little buns, like the cool water of Styx on its run, rushing naughty souls down into the cavernous gullet of Hades reluctant -- keel-haul 'em: Gentle currents of air, fanned by rhythmic motions of vibrant steps, and swinging cloth of pleated plaid, flipping up, without a care, exposing grinning mounds; and smiling too, vertical mouth torn in flesh, upon its captive pair under duress; whizzing puffs of mullet and mackerel notions into the air, vaginal cream dripping over my shoe. Pony-tail whipping, sunlight dripping, down over golden locks of hair: Breathless beasts of bra-less breasts dancing wildly inside their nests; a blouse to me and you: Teats rubbing stiffening relentless, over rough, starched, familiar cotton fabric that tempt us, a territory of translucent white weave -- mother of pearl buttons and short sleeved: Everything bouncing, everything whipping, everything fanning in perfect speed, and rhythm, with my choreographic stride; everything swinging, and jiggling, except my, calm, confident interior, and my sultry, sensuous inside.

My torso and mind: They are stable, and steady - solid. They are at my core: Carrying all of my ornaments at the ready -- bouncing in time, and more - stolid.

My ass, my tits, my vulva and my face; I need my core; it is my—Self: I use it to hang my beautiful persona upon. My core hides under my ornaments. I leave my-Self, in my bedroom, at the door. In a box, after I put on all of my adornments, fir shore.

Chapter 3.

I bounced through Nordstrom's like a rubber ball on a string.

I love popping onto an escalator some three steps up of a hot guy; in pretence of preoccupation, giddy and awestruck by elegance in the surround: Just an innocent sweet little cherub excited to be shopping, at all, on her own, like her mommy does. Yes, so, so, excited--that she forgot to put panties on for the occasion, even.

I bend over at the hip, setting down and picking up, shopping bags; and when I get off at the top, I watch the men trying to walk with that huge thing of theirs swelling between their legs; ripping out pubic hairs by the root, as it engorges, autonomically pumping shots of blood into its flaccid tube, up the flexible rod, into the helmet. Peeling back the foreskin, readying the magenta missile, set atop a thickening, rigid, shaft. A meat-rocket primed for launch. The probe set for possible penetration.

I duck between racks of clothes and wipe the thick creamy fluid running down the inside of my thighs on a sleeve of clothing, or I just go and try on a handful of underwear, and dry my pussy off on lingerie gussets. I smell so sweet.

The sheer power of it makes me tingle all over -- it's a treat!

Chapter 4. 

My poor little pooh-pooh hole was still swollen from last night, when my girlfriend, Sarah, and her new boyfriend came over to my apartment for dinner.

Tom wanted to try a threesome, and that was okay with me, and his girlfriend--Sarah; we share her between us. She's such a little bitch, she can never get enough. Tut, tut!

Although I prefer women, I will have the occasional fling, with a guy, just to clean my holes out. Usually I use whomever Sarah has as a boyfriend at the time. We share that way too, but I only do-it with him as long as she is there -- Sarah, I mean: I insist that she lick my pussy and bung-hole dry afterwards. I like it, she likes it, he likes it: We like it!

Sarah's told me about Tom's cock.

Although it is not very long, only about six and a half inches, (we measured it), nevertheless, I swear I have never seen one so thick! It looks like a boa constrictor trying to swallow a purple Ostrich egg. 

Sarah trawls the bars, picking up tit-bits of information here and there about the size of men's dongs. Her love-tunnel isn't very deep, but I swear I could get both my feet in her if I tried. Her vulva is like a horse's collar, and more-often-than-not, it smells like one too. I constantly have to remind her to wash it, but it's in use so often, that it's a lost cause I feel. I just don't know how she handles the sheer volume of cumm that comes her way!

Sarah hones in on men with short thick dongs, but when they get tired of her cunt, and start probing her rosebud, well, that's where I come in. I always know when it happens too. I don't hear from her for a week or two, because she's -- "in lo--ve" -- Oh God, Give me a break! Then, out of the blue, she wants to introduce me to her new boyfriend, over dinner -- at my place usually. Bitch!

Over dinner, "The Coke-Bottle Story", just happens to come up in casual conversation! I know then, she has brought her latest concubine over to try and quench his lust for fudge-packing. Sarah's bung-hole is as tight as a crab's ass at ten thousand fathoms, so coupled with her huge clout-hole, and her penchant for enormous dongs, the poor little whore has to become -- creative, if she wants to hold onto her latest beau.

I watch her as she attempts to maneuvers the whole focus of the dinner party around, to meet her own ends. She wants to borrow my bung-hole for the night; to give [it] to Tom; in the fervent hope that this new beau, won't evolve into another ex-beau, as usual.

She's lucky I'm a good friend--and that I just love getting my fudge packed -- but that's totally beside the point! She owes me, and that's that!

Chapter 5.

I'm the very opposite of Sarah: I have the longer, narrow, slender type of love-tunnel, but can get almost anything into my ass-hole.

At a mutual friend's birthday party: We all got a little too drunk, and the games -- well, they, became a little too --naughty -- to...!

Sarah won her game category, by taking a rather large gourd deep into her pussy-hole: Some seven inches in diameter, it was. She didn't bat an eyelid, and I swear there was room to spare.

I won my category, by taking a 2 liter coke bottle all the way up my bung-hole, blunt side first! I came hard the instant it was pushed it into me, and sprayed the lot of them from head-to-toe with my squirting pee-pee hole, before they had chance to dive out of firing range.

It cost me a week's wages in dry-cleaning bills, they were pissed, in more ways than one!

After some considerable coaxing and I do, so, love the coaxing, and a couple of glasses of wine, to boot, I was enticed into showing-off my party trick to Tom after dinner: But not, on this occasion, done with the 2 liter bottle! I didn't want all the cleaning-up in the morning. I had to be at work early, and I always come and squirt everywhere with the 2 liter. So I used the wine bottle from the table instead.

As it happens, I might as well have done the 2 liter one anyway, and raked in the usual applause for it at the end, because Sarah grabbed the neck of the wine bottle sticking out of my bung-hole, and did my ass good and proper with it! OoOoOoOoOW! 

It felt so good though, that I just couldn't find the will in me to stop her. In fact I had both my hands grasped tightly around her wrists helping her thrust; I wanted it all the way in me, hard and fast!

I was laying flat on my back in the middle of the floor: Tom holding my legs apart and way-up over my shoulders. Sarah, meanwhile, was pumping away at my ass-hole, with the bottle, like she was making butter the old fashion way.

I came. 

...Long, and sure, with a sharp intensity, that opened my urethra wide!

My slit-hole was quivering: shooting blast, after blast, of piss out of me with each and every inward thrust of the Chardonnay dildo, rammed deep into my bung-hole without quarter, until every drop of warm golden rain was being pumped out of my bladder, squirting high up into the air above us, like an oscillating, hesitant, fountain. 

The squirts were so powerful that they hit ceiling. 

The sheer force of the stream creating a plume: A fine misty spray, billowing-out from the impact zone; raining-down over the three of us, almost atomized, until we were drenched to the skin, with my warm, orangeade. 

Sarah pulled the bottle out of my ass, the bottom-dimple packed solid with my mud. I blushed: There was a mud ring about 8 inches up the bottle.

It made a loud pop as it came out, and my ass-hole slammed shut tighter than a clam at low tide. 

A moment later, internal pressure that had been built-up in my anal chamber by the relentless, vicious, pumping of that bitch Sarah-on-the-bottle; finally got its release!

I, involuntarily, let-loose with a deep, protracted, fairly baritone fart: A wind, issued-forth out of my innards, with such immediate force; vibrating the over-stretched curtains of my bung-hole, in such a manner, as to closely mimic, a rendition, not unlike a sextet of trombone, mixing-it-up in a New Orleans funeral march parade. I blushed red with embarrassment! And the air was filled with a thick aroma of wet clay, mixed with honey, and cinnamon, coupled with that pungent smell, that comes off the steaming, wet, coat of a galloping horse. Sarah loves it, and makes me open my pong-pong hole with her finger as she licks my slit for hours during an evening: I let her have her way with me of a night. It allows me time to catch up on my reading, while she is quietly occupied.

Chapter 6.

Tom had tucked one of my ankles under his arm-pit, and with his free hand, had gotten his hairy ball-sack and thick, swollen, cock out of his pants. He was wanking at his stork furiously; his balls dancing in their bag like ice-cubes in a martini shaker.

I could hear his foreskin rolling over his huge magenta knob-end; it sounded a bowl of jelly like being stirred with a large wooden salad fork.

The speed of his foreskin, alternately wrapping and unwrapping the head of Tom's rigid proboscis, had whipped up a light-creamy-froth of cock cream; spewing continuously from his winking eyelet: Thick Maple syrup leaking its viscous seed out of thick barked trunks. The sweet fluid driveled down, thickly, over his white-knuckled fist as he pumped, valiantly, and unashamedly, at his rock-hard shaft. The creamy goo flowing down the center of his hairy scrotum sack: Sticky droplets dangling off the bottom of his swinging, bulging, bag.

Whipped cumm dripped: Suspended on long gossamer-threads of seeded-syrup, hanging on -- until, just, too heavy: Dropped off, shaken free - genital agitation the culprit, you see.

Disturbance of the entire equipment region: Frantic, malicious masturbation responsible; inflicted upon its protuberance, by the instrument holder himself; and his desire unleashed itself.

I watched intently, as globs of frothy semen fell like snowy scenes printed on cheap Christmas Cards. I threw my head wildly from side to side beneath him, stretching my long slender neck almost to the point of dislocation; my mouth, wide open tongue flicking chaotically about like a flag in the wind, plucking mouthfuls of steaming hot rod-cream out of the air, like an Amazonian frog, unfurling its coiled tongue; plucking at flies-on-the-wing; snaring its airborne prey: Greedily reeling them in: Fly after fly, drop after drop, into an all accepting; insatiable open mouth - don't stop!

Ravaging gotten prizes; Ingesting won protein, only to reset an instant later; mouth open, tongue readied. Anticipation of the very next; dropped gratuity, repetitive routine, gobbling Tom's salty cream.

Chapter 7. 

Sarah held the soiled bottle up to Tom's nose.

He breathed it in deeply, and then groaned. 

His intoxicated head rolled around on his neck like a ball being delivered back up into a bowling ally consol: The apparent popping of his vertebrae doubling for the sound when balls shunt into one another in the stack---"Pop!"

Tom lost control and shot a hot stream of cumm out of his turgid magenta helmet, from his standing position over my head. 

The majority of the shot landed directly in the center of my gaping, pulsating, ass-hole.

My rosebud, had taken on a mind of its own, and was opening and closing rapidly, like a starving gold-fish's mouth intent at the feed. It was out of control, and it was making a sound like a pregnant duck.

My ass-hole was in a feeding frenzy: It was hungry.

It would eat anything when hungry, and today, cumm was on the menu - and it was being served hot!

Tom's load-shot was instantly gobbled-up by Veronica's rot-hole. The only remnant of the transaction between them, being a sticky bubble blown out, and popped, as the spasmodic bung-hole-contractions quavered down into a steady, throbbing, pulse.

Chapter 8.

Tom wanted "In"!

He nodded to Sarah, and they switched places.

He sauntered around my body and positioned himself, kneeling, between my legs; squeezing his fat cock hard to hold the cumm inside.

His teeth were hanging-out-to-dry, and I wondered why it is that when men, are wanking, and about to cumm, why, do their teeth and eyes seem to pop out of their head like that? I mean, it's not very romantic. I hate that face! and all the grunting. OoOoOoOW!

This is why I prefer women! Women, just purr, and gasp, and moan and groan--and look more and more beautiful the closer they get to their orgasm; their labia swelling, Red like Admiral butterfly wings, their hole flowing with warm honey, their nun's headdress pulling back exposing an erect clitoral nerve-missile war-head: Teats constricting, deepening in color, towering above mobile-mammary glands: Unlike Man, who looks more and more like a fucking gargoyle, and sounds like a slobbering, snorting, hog being slaughtered, the closer he gets to [His]---puny---orgasm. OoOoOoOoOW! Rat-fucks! Huh! The fucking noise of it all...!

Chapter 9.

Sarah handed him the bottle, then reached under her mini-skirt that I had lent her weeks ago, the little bitch!

I thought, "I want that fucking skirt back! Dry cleaned and pressed -- the cheeky cunt!"

I watched, as she pulled her soaking wet gusset over into one side of her vulva's lips, securely tucking it down there into her groin, with such flowing dexterity and precision, which tended to betrayed the feigned naivety of the action, in and of itself as a tautological event, rather than one born of desperate, uncontrollable passion, and sheer animal desire, carried out into its full entirety, with planned precision, and strategic intent... The crafty little fulgurous spark of The' Whore flashing under her -- between her lovely milky-soft thighs, and her perfect orbed , fuzz-less buttocks, masquerading beneath her, as benign accoutrements of the female form, but nevertheless, stinking like Grimsby fish market at wrapping-up time, after a busy trade, over a hot summer 's Saturday meet: And her ring - fuming like Beelzebub's gut-breath, itself, ill-wiped, and unwashed -- as usual. This! Is what she chose to offer up to me, for the eating! And she knew, from old, that I would be unable to resist, once I got all worked up and all. the skanky little Bitch! I was going to have to take the skin of her butt with my leather whip -- but not right now, I had a pussy and a dirt-box to gobble, and it might take a while...! 

Obviously she had done this many times before! Sarah I mean. I felt a pang of...disappointment, and the gnawing of feeling digging deep in the pit of my stomach, like a hyena clawing at the entrails of its fresh kill, made me feel sad. 

I felt used. I would have to punish Sarah---severely!

Chapter 10.

Her gusset was heavily stained yellow, and beige in the middle, generally, where her vent luxuriated; sleeping snuggly, all day long in its expensive French lingerie cunt-hammock.

Sarah opts to top-of-the-line underwear--always!

Notwithstanding her obvious idiosyncrasies, many of which relate to a basic underlying belief within her...that "She" is absolutely "perfect", and [that], literally, and metaphorically, [She] believes [that] "Her shit doesn't stink!": But she does have such exquisite taste -- I can tell [you] -- [and] ([T]he[']) style of a Star, lost to generations through mediocrity; thrust upon ([W]om[a][e]n) --- since the unfortunate advent of trouser-wearing.

Such deliberate sabotage of The' femme de la femme affair, between, us and --- Them...!

Chapter 11. 

It must cost her a small fortune--her belief that is--.

As far as I can see, after three to four consecutive wearing; her panties are wrecked!

Sarah doesn't think this way.

Daddy is rich, and she was never taught that she ought to consider--work, as a virtuous discipline. 

Wiping her ass, washing her pussy is--Work--in Sarah's book! 

Chapter 12.

Toward the rear of the gusset I noticed huge skid marks: Brown ochre in color, which could only have come from her incessant ass-hole scratching. I told her about it, but it is like trying to warn someone off nail-biting. They don't know they did it until it is all over: Alerted, boringly, within raw feelings of discomfort from the quick.

They seemed dark and thick, the skids, I mean. 

Ground-in-to the expensive silk. Worked-in deep, by the action of her ample buns rotating provocatively, each and every time she took as much as a single step off from a stationary pose.

Yeah! Fuckers...yeah!

I mean it's the blame of the parents, it is! who never taught her proper potty-etiquette!

Selfish bastards!

Chapter 13. 

Many a night I have gone down on her during a mutual 69 session, and had to come up for air!

I would ask.

"Sarah, have you taken a shit today? "

She would pull her face out of my ass, and answer.

"Yes, twice actually... Why? "

I would inquire.

"Did you wipe? I mean did you wipe your ass, after your took a shit?"

There would be silence!

"Sarah, I just asked you a question! Did you wipe your ass after you took a shit today?"

"Answer me!"

"I'm thinking, Veronica...I'm thinking!"

"What the fuck is there to think about Sarah! Either you wiped your ass after shitting today or you fucking well fucking, fucking didn't, you fucking little fucker...!"

"Oh! Veronica, why are you bringing this up now when we were having such a lovely time...?"

"...Because my fucking nose is rammed right into your ass-hole Sarah! How the fucks do you think I can lick your cunt out in a 69 position, unless my fucking nose is right on your fucking little dirt-hole! -- You fucking little bitch!"

"Oh! I'm sorry Veronica, I forgot."

"Forgot what? You cunt...!"

"Look Veronica, I had a lot on my mind today..."

"...And...?" I asked incredulously.

"What do you mean Veronica? I mean..."And"...and what...? Tell me what! You had a lot on your fucking little mind today..."And"...and fucking what...?"

Silence!

"Oh, okay Miss Perfect, so I forgot---if you must know..."




Sarah



"WHAT! ...You F-O-R-G-O-T!

You mean to tell me that you...you...you FORGOT!--to wipe your ass!"

Silence...

"Answer me you little cunt...NOW!"

"Oh, Veronica, you're frightening me. Yes, yes, I'm sorry I forgot to wipe my ass today...I'm sorry Veronica, don't be mad at me. I always forget. I thought you liked my scent. Remember the first time you licked me, well I hadn't wiped or washed down there for almost a week, I didn't think I had to. I smell nice you told me...I'm confused and afraid now. Oh! Veronica I lo--ve you..."

Chapter 14.

"Get in the bathroom you little cow, and wash your fucking hole. You little bitch! Oh! My God! How the fuck can anyone in this world forget to wipe their ass-hole! Get in there you, skanky whore, and wash that hole of yours, NOW! Cunt!"

Sarah rushed into the bathroom, and I heard her crying, and the water running. I picked up her panties, and turned them inside-out. I swear she had staged a mud wrestling event in her gusset. I mean, this woman's ass could turn heads in a morgue, from the outside, but she assumes her shit doesn't stink? What a fucking cheek!

I sniffed them, and nearly came on the spot, my nipples ached and my clitoris quivered. I instinctively reached down and flicked its pink head, and shot back onto the bed squirming in utter ecstasy, sniffing wildly at Sarah's wrecked panty gusset.

Just as I was about to come, I heard Sarah speak.

"I'm all nice and clean now Veronica"

I threw the soiled panties across the room immediately, and sat bolt upright, pretending that I was massaging a cramp in my thigh. I think I got away with it.

Sarah came over and bounced on to the bed.

"Do you still love me, Veronica?" asked Sarah, with such an angelic look in her eye.

"You are so, so, naughty! Sometimes Sarah... I just don't know how you can forget to wipe your ass-hole baby?" I offered in a rather whining voice.

"I'm sorry veronica, my love, but if it bothers you so much, why were your flicking yourself off just now; rubbing your pussy like crazy, sniffing my panties like mad, huh? Come on tell me, huh? Why Veronica? Why? Cat got your tongue baby? Pray, do tell... I'm all ears. 

I denied it vehemently, saying that I was checking the tag on her panties, and that I was going to buy her new ones tomorrow on the way home from work, as a surprise, considering the state of her current ones, and that I had a cramp in my inner thigh muscle, and that I was rubbing it to alleviate the pain.

Sarah smiled and almost imperceptively nodded in feigned agreement, staring intently into my averted eyes. She reached down slowly, took my hand by the wrist, and brought it up between our faces. The fingers were dripping wet, sticky and slippery, and glistened in the dim light that issued forth out of the open bathroom doorway. Sarah sniffed them and pushed my index finger deep into her mouth, rolling her wet tongue over it, and sucking at it hard. Our eyes locked into a close, fixed, stare at every moment. When she pulled it out, it was cleaned and almost dry to the touch. She folded it back into my palm, and ran my middle finger under my nose.

"Smells like...thigh, I suppose?" she said sarcastically, "Doesn't it my love?"

Then she parted my lips and pushed the finger all the way into my open mouth.

"...Remind you of anything darling? Perhaps honey-cinnamon, thighs I guess, with a pinch of nutmeg, and the merest hint of fresh sturgeon row, seasoned by ground crystallized sea salt evaporated from the salt pools of the Caspian itself...? Now where, I wonder, have we tasted such delicate delights as this before...? Let me see... I know, why its Veronica's thighs! No, no...I'm mistaken, but I think I'm getting warmer, don't you my naughty little fibber? Why yes, I have smelled that fragrance, and tasted that yummy, yummy, concoction only tonight, even... Let me tell you where my blushing baby, why right there hunn, yes right there--between--your gorgeous thighs, right there deep down between the coral hued walls of your sandy colored buttocks, yes, down there my sweet prevaricator, at your puckered rose-bud; pathway to your forbidden realm. A realm steeped in darkness, and mystery: Age old taboos shatter every time you open its circular, kaleidoscopic, door, like a shutter of a camera set on f-stop 1.2, implicit permission given, to enter with an eager wriggling tongue, or as probing finger, or your favorite long, undulating strappy, pushed in deep, punishing your hole, jarring at your perineum, winding menacingly up into your anal chamber, as your nerve ends send their delicious signal up your spine, injecting their endorphins deep into the heart of your pulsating hypothalamus. And let us not forget, the range of "equipment" laying-in-wait, just across the other side of the perineum bridge. Ah--hhh, Yes! The Corporate Headquarters of the Perfumery, itself! The valiant Vulva! Set there, between the soft flesh of the thighs, explicate in all of its glorious vulgarity, and unambiguous intent, split vertically from below the Rubenesque belly of the beholder, down, around and through The Mount of Venus, its labial lips coming back together at the perineum bridge. A violent gash, red and pink, its wetted labial lips, turgid and scented with secretions from the apocrine glands, swell like alary wings coming together, interiorly, in the frenulum to form the prepuce--the nun's hood; the headdress of choice, of the almighty--Clitoris Royal! You see, my dearest Veronica, I know every last fold, and crevice of your dripping hole, and every endocrine fragrance sequestered there, under you, so baby, I know that there was no thigh-cramp, and you know you love me, and you love the way I smell. I know you do, you always have, and I don't know why you get so mad at me; for just being---me. Kiss me you fool!"

We kissed, long and hard, licking and sucking and drinking of each other without restraint, then we broke apart.

"I saw you sniffing my panties, and rubbing yourself. I was standing there, in the bathroom doorway, for over a minute, just watching you. It made me wet again underneath, and just after I had washed and dried it down there for you. I just lo--ve you so, so, much you silly little cuddly bear you."

I blushed, and felt ashamed, for the way I had treated Sarah. But she had to learn to wipe! No so much for me, but for...herself! Or perhaps, it just didn't matter to her.

One day, I would present her with the shit, fresh out of my! ass. Then we will see: Yes, we will see then, alright, if, when the tables are turned--if she can handle the repercussions of it? After all, what's good for the goose...? 

But isn't that just such a pipe-dream of mine...

Sarah knows, I am too much of a lady, to ever! do anything of the like. I'm so easy to read, I guess: But, one of these fine days though, Sarah: Yes! one of these days, I swear...! Humph!

Just wait! Oh! Yes, Sarah, just you fucking wait! Just wait you little fucking bitch, just you wait! Fucking little Bitch Whore!

Chapter 15.

I had to think fast!

Sarah had me up against the wall, and if I let her assume control, well, we would crash and burn in under a month, I knew it. I love her so, so, much that I just couldn't let that happen.

I thought, I could cry, and throw myself, helpless, upon Sarah's innate caring, maternal instinct, or lie like a shameless hog, sticking to my cramp and present story?

In the end I decided to take-the-bull-by-the-horns, and ignore everything, ordering Sarah to lie in my lap over my knees and to hold onto my ankles while I inspected her holes for cleanliness.

I issued the directive in my sternest tone of voice, and Sarah bought it and instantly forgot her advantage over me, and scurried around in total compliance.

Her 120lbs felt like nothing to my larger frame, and most of that weight was centered in her enormous ass, and breasts. I could feel her titties dangling down my calves, her nipples grazing my ankle bone, her hair caressing me feet.

With the bulbous orbs, of Sarah's buttocks centered over my lap, she became almost weightless; her upper torso, balanced perfectly by her shapely thighs and lower legs.

I reached over, down the side of my bed, for my riding crop. I always keep it hanging on a peg, screwed to the side of my dresser, for quick and easy access, along with an assortment of strap-on dongs of varying sizes, and lengths, and girths, in case the mood takes me in the middle of a session. Rummaging around looking for things in the heat of the moment, is a sure passion killer, I have found.

I threaded my hand through the leather hoop at the handle, and ran the little flat end of it down Sarah's spine, then brought it around to her face, turning her head to the side, and slightly elevated, so she could look up into my face. I gently slapped her lips with the flapper at the end, and she whimpered ever so softly. I returned her head to its upside-down hanging position, and she began to pant.

I asked in a slow soft, caring voice, "Has my little love doll, been naughty, or good, I wonder...?"

Sarah started to answer.

"I..I..I--"

I cut her stammering short with the interruption,

"Tut, tut, tut...! Mommy didn't tell you that you could speak baby...Schhhhhhhhh now, my little baby; Schhhhhhhhhh..."

Sarah choked back another whimper, and almost hyperventilated.

I gently caressed her fine buttocks with the cool braids of the crop, then, lifting my arm high above my head, I laid one squarely across the golden orbs with a resounding SLAP!

Sarah's didn't make a sound, but her head flew up and back, so fast the her flowing hair swished up and around landing over her ripping concave spine; her mouth and eyes wide open in shock, her panting had halted, in fact she wasn't breathing at all, and her legs shot out stiff, horizontal to the ground, the arches of her feet curved and her toes pointing straight out, I thought, 

"What perfect posture, for a Swallow-Dive!"

I will have to remember to ask Sarah, later, if she was on the diving team at college.

I felt her nails dig deep into my ankles, and as the blue-red welt started to rise diagonally across her blemish-free cheeks, a warm flow trickled down my legs, as her urethra opened and closed involuntarily, and hot piss squirted from her in powerful jets into my lap.

I ran the long, brown, platted crop over the length of her body, from the tip of her toes, to the nape of her neck, and tried to calm her down by whispering, 

"Relax baby, mommy loves her little baby, relax..."

Sarah started to shudder, and took in an almighty gasp of breath, letting out a high-pitched squeal, followed by torrents of tears, and sobs so regret full, that they almost touched my very heart. Then she collapsed back down across my knees as limp as a rag-doll, sobbing her little heart out. 

I said with total resignation in my voice, 

"Why mommy loves her naughty, naughty... Naughty! ...Little baby."

And with each and every "naughty" I laid another lash across her trembling ass, harder and harder with each successive swing. 

Sarah squirmed and yelped, and piss ran freely now out of her convulsing pussy, and she let out a long, enormous fart that shocked me into stopping.

"Please, oh--hh, please... I'm sorry mommy Veronica, please, I'm so, so, sorry." blurted Sarah between bouts of lip quivering repentance.

"You ought to be sorry, my girl. How DARE! You tease mommy like that!"

And I laid down another three across her thighs this time just to drive home the message.

My arm was tired, and I think I pulled a muscle in my forearm, so I decided to move onto the next phase, that of obedience training, which didn't require so much exertion, on my behalf.

I said, in a stern, yet conciliatory tone,

"Mommy needs to inspect you now my darling, just to be sure you did a good job down there in the bathroom, with the soap and flannel. Now, let go of mommy's ankles and bring your sweet little hands up here. Yes, baby just like that. Now pull you buttocks wide apart, yes, that's a good little girl...wider...Wider! Good girl! Now open you legs darling...wider...Wider!, good girl, mommy love her baby when baby is good now doesn't she?" 

Sarah nodded profusely, and I felt her nipples harden and stiffen against the top of my instep.

I ran the crop over her rose-bud, and brought it to my nose for the smelling. It came back sweet and clean, as it ought to with a young attractive lady. Next, I threaded the cool leather shaft through her vulvas' labia majora. It came back coated with thick, clear cream, with a modicum of bubbly white froth clinging to the syrup. I sniffed it and my nipples instantly hardened so rapidly that they caused me to moan at their intense aching, and my clitoris shot out from its prepuce, like a sea-anemone popping out of its flute for feeding, when danger has past, and the coast is clear once again.

I put the crop between my lips like a flautist readying for a tune, and drew it through from side to side, scooping off the sticky cream as it passed through my mouth. I quaked as an intense single orgasmic wave shot through my torso, into my brain. Two or three squirts of piss blasted earth ward, and splashed across Sarah's face down there. I heard her try to muffle a giggle.

In the dim light, I could see Sarah's bung-hole. It was swollen, and stood proud, like the top of a volcano's caldera. Her new boyfriend must have moved on from her love-tunnel, and into the obligatory anal phase of the relationship...they always do, sooner or later!

I guess she will be bringing this one around for another dinner party soon. I'll have to remember to stock a 2 liter bottle of diet coke in the refrigerator, just for the occasion.

I touched her rose-bud with the flap of the crop, and it immediately constricted tight, quivering there for a while, then relaxed and sprang back to its former swollen volcanic form.

I slapped at it gently with the crop, and Sarah gasped. A gush of high pressure gas blew out from it; it smelled like vanilla cookie dough, my favorite. 

I said, with a hint of envy in my delivery, 

"So, your new boyfriend, has been seeking the dark, mysterious delights of your back-door, I see."

Sarah, giggled, and nodded her head, saying in a deep, soft husky voice,

"Yes--ssss..."

Then quickly added that she wanted to bring him over to my place for dinner...?

"Why, of course." I replied, with feigned surprise.

I put the riding crop back on its peg, and wet my middle finger.

I tickled the center of Sarah's volcanic-cone, and after a few chaotic constrictions, she guessed what I needed, and opened it up like a sunflower unfurling its petals at the crack of dawn. 

I pushed my finger all the way in up to the hilt, and rummaged around inside her ass. 

I found the tip of a rather large log, sitting high in her anal cavity, readying itself for a breach birth. I pulled my finger back out, and Sarah gasped with a combination of pain and pleasure.

I dropped my hand down around her face and she opened her beautiful curly lips, and cleaned my finger off, even under the nail. 

"Sarah was a good girl now, for a while anyway." I lamented to myself.

I said, in a matter-of-fact way,

"Sarah, my dear, you have the most enormous log high up in your ass. Go to the bathroom, at once, and get rid of it, now! Please: And don't forget to flush...and I want you to stand there until you actually see that the darn thing has gone clean-around-the-bend. I don't want to find anything in the bowl, when you leave, you hear? Do you hear me..? I repeated.

"My God, that girl is driving me clean! around the bend." I thought to myself.

"..And don't forget to wipe afterwards..." I added.

"Oh-hh Ok, Veronica, don't go "On" so, darling; it's very unbecoming of you, dear, don't you know?"

It didn't take long for Sarah to revert back to the cheeky little strumpet she is, and after a good whipping too; which made me think that maybe all the slobbering and sobbing and yelping was nothing more than one big, staged, act from start to finish? 

I have noticed that Sarah is being very naughty, much more often these days, and my arm is getting sore, with all the whipping and all...?

Chapter 16. 

I heard the flush of the toilet bowl, and the whirr of the bidet, and the rustle of towels, so I assumed Sarah had done her duty, but I didn't hear the hand basin tap running?

As the bathroom door started to open, I shouted.

"I just hope you washed your hands, also, my girl?"

The door stopped swinging open, then closed again, and I heard the hand-basin faucet running. Sarah was mumbling something under her breath. I couldn't quite make it out, what with the door closed and the water running.

I shouted again.

"I can't hear you!"

The mumbling stopped, and Sarah called back.

"I was just saying how much I lo--ve you darling, and the way you always remind me what it is to be--a fucking lady--around you! Humph!"

Chapter 17.

Sarah bounced out of the bathroom, with a lovely winning smile spread generously across her beautiful, suntanned face.

When she caught sight of me standing there amid the shadows of the room, her eyes lit up and she let out an involuntary audible thick, deep purr.

While Sarah was evacuating her ass, of that monster inside it, I had donned my--surprise!

It was foreboding, and frightening: Obscene and vulgar--awesome--in a sort of devilish way. It was all of these things--and much, much more, all at once... Why, it was---Naughty...!

Chapter 18.

It was new.

It was innovative, and it was expensive, baby!

...And it was--revolutionary, too.

It was the manifestation of my imagination, and desire, and in the right hands, it could set Womankind free! 

Yes...Free! at last...Free At Last, Oh Lord, Yes---"Free At Last." 

I had a dream...

No longer would Woman be anchored to the male genital or for their--deliberation. No, at last, we could steer our destinies in a new direction: A direction devoid of submission, and swinging ball-sacks.

I named it "The Hole Wrecker"!

All I knew was, I didn't relish the thought of it frequenting [my] particular hole, or should I say--holes, but then again, I didn't have to; I was the "Wearer", and, thus, the "Giver" of, both, pain and pleasure, I cared not which: I let that decision-float-upon the whim of the "Receiver" Her, or Himself.

My-"Take"-is this.

I, simply, siphon [out-of] the---pleasure---spectrum of the affair, only what I need: Everyone to their own capisce. 

Different strokes for different folks, I guess. I'm so, so easy going! It is one of my faults.

It had cost me plenty! And I did it all for Sarah...along with myself--first, of course. But she would have no idea of that.

To Sarah, I am nothing more than a subservient-submissive; playing a part in [Her] vignette, as "The' Dominant Mistress", and she, taking on the role of the dumb-blond, who, behind the scenes, [Is], the real Dominatrix! All-along, [allowing] me--to think that, I, am the one---in-control...

Chapter 19. 

In my book, Sarah is a cunt. 

I allow Sarah to believe that she is the real Dominatrix, acting-out the role of the dumb-blond subservient-submissive, unto me; whom she believes she is possibly the opposite of that in reality.

Sarah is the dumb-blond subservient-submissive.

Allowed by The' Dominant Mistress myself, to believe she is not what she portrays herself to be! ...and I allow this, only because I am, I think, what I believe myself to be?

Chapter 20.

It was a full 14 inches in length, and the helmet was a massive 6 inches in diameter, with a 5 inch undulating shaft. Sarah loves the--larger ones!

The contraption was a precision tool really, and had to be custom built to my precise specifications. 

It had taken 6 months for a small, but very prestigious German company, who specialized in building complicated robotic devices for NASA space shots to far off planets like Mars and Venus, and the moon, of course. 




Sarah



It cost me a small fortune, but that wasn't the half of it. I had to give the whole, tool and die making team, a blow-job once a week, all six of them, (four male, and two female), and the owner of the company wanted to fuck me in my ass-hole twice a month. That was the deal, take it or leave it. What else could I do? I've never swallowed so much come in all my life! I thought to myself.

"...God! Don't these bastards EVER! fuck their wives...?" I thought to myself.

Every Wednesday, like the clock, their balls would be bulging full of cumm, just waiting for me to suck it out for them: The fucking cunts!

And those two bitches had me licking every fucking hole they owned, for fucking hours, mind you. The skanky looking whores!

Everyone was German in the work-shop, and the two frauleins tasted similar; kind of like vanilla-cream taffy, but with slight vinegary after-taste, not unpleasant, but a bit too much on the tart side, for my liking. I was used to Sarah, and Mary Jane. Two delectable dishes, ready to eat at a moment's notice--satisfaction guaranteed in every bite--the epitome of fast-food pussy, served hot, and steamy--24hrs a day--Yummy!

Chapter 21.

At first I would do everyone separately, in a private office with the blinds closed, and the door shut. But it took all afternoon! and I would be exhausted, especially with those two Bitches, you would swear they had never had their slits licked before, because, baby, those two whores used and abused me, holding back their orgasms, to the very last moment, taking unscheduled breaks, even going to the trouble to have a couple of blocks of ice delivered, so that if they got too close to orgasm, before they thought they had gotten their pound-of-fucking-flesh, out of me, then they would sit on the ice, and cool-off their hairy cunts, and start all over again from scratch. 

The fucking crafty little German trollops had me hog-tied, and at the mercy of their logical, Aryan, pragmatism, and clockwork view of the world. To them, I was just another love-puppet, existing for their use and enjoyment, and nothing else.

Chapter 22.

After a few weeks of this, I decided to re-read my contract, and by the merest stroke of luck, I had inadvertently included in an obscure clause, hidden in an unassuming little footnote, at the bottom of a rather, uninteresting page, that stated, I, and I alone, had absolute, and final say over the artistic content of the weekly - proceedings.

Of course, this meant that I could design, or choreograph, the whole goings-on during our weekly sordid afternoon meets.

Chapter 23.

I got so excited that had to go take a huge Royal shit to celebrate, apparently on the underlying presumption that I had, inadvertently, gained the upper-hand in this, complicated, affair.

Oh, Yes! I just do love, being Queen. It suits me to a tee, I must agree...

The very next Wednesday, after a clarification of the terms of the agreement with the owner, the New Order was unveiled.

I would have the two frauleins, stripped, and washed--especially around the clout area, and bung-hole region.

I would then have them, luxuriating upon a large comforter laid out in the middle of the main office floor; and the other four: Yes, the other fucking four, alright: Why, I would have them standing around the corners of the comforter, with their pants off and their balls hanging-out, swinging-in-the-wind!

I, of course, had on full-regalia.

Sarah had picked out most of the outfit for me, and it was frighteningly provocative, to say the least!

Now and again I would catch a fleeting sight - sometimes - of my alter-ego in the full-length mirror of my bedroom closet. I would strip-off immediately, turn off the light, and hide under the blankets.

Often, I would, frantically, call Sarah and insist she come over. She would let herself in. I had given her the key.

Invariably, Sarah would find me shivering in the dark; hiding, frightened, under the blankets.

She would comfort me, by lighting scented candles, and fucking me in the ass, with one of my own strap-on dildos.

It would calm me down alright, but Sarah didn't possess the attributes, nor panache of a giver: Sarah is a perfect taker.

I would generally end up ripping the strappy from her and donning it myself, instructing her in the finer details and subtle nuances of its use.

It seems to be a knack of the privileged, that when they come-up short, on the practical employment of any type of skill, or dexterity, then others around them, seem to want to rush-in...not in the attempt to fill-in the void of their obvious inadequacy, but simply, it seems, to maintain, above all cost, the relative status quo, between the "Idea" of those [produced out] of [that] class: Those, who would, rather than demand, simply, rather, expect, this - degree - of service as a given. I, on the other hand, instead of all of that have an innate quality of the ability - to love.

The crafty little Bitch, though...! I always fell into doing all the work with Sarah. I suppose, her upbringing, was too ingrained in her to be able to give freely, if at all, for long.

Sarah hated work.

Sweat in her opinion, ought to be "caused", and not "earned". 

If Sarah sweated, by doing something, then in her world, she had failed! 

Perspiration, according to Sarah, was something that she had to endure, as a negative consequence in the unfortunate course of actions that others needed to inflict upon her body, so that she could experience [her] up-and-comings, rather than the other way around! 

This is why I beat her ass so often, and with so much pent-up vehemence. The fucking little cock-sucking little fucking Bitch! Whore, Bitch, Bastard, Cow, mother-Fucking, Strumpet Bitch...! ...Cunt! OoOoOoOW! Humph!

Thigh high! Full-regalia! Yes, Sarah knew how to intimidate, alright, and she dressed me in the ultimate get-up, that met her needs, psychologically.

I guess I am just a pawn in Sarah's complicated life-game, of self-realization. But what she didn't bargain on was an active mind, inside her puppet-creation...or did she?

Aside our, basic, connection, that of mutual sexual satisfaction, or even deeper than that, delving into the buried graves of inner introspection, Sarah only loved herself, and nothing else - but she had a way of making me like that.

Sarah never got - really - upset...

It was, sort of...beneath her - the cunt!

Sarah and I, I suppose, both jailer, and jailed trapped, as it were, in the pragmatism of a modern world's burgeoning insistent order - devoid of feeling. Impinging-upon an established class-constant: We both, understood and intrinsically, misunderstood, each other, so much so, approaching the perfect degree, to which such class misinterpretations reach, and seem to explain themselves, silently, in a non-linear, non-partisan way. 

It was almost as if, we were connected, outside, of our teachings and beliefs.

It is probably not right. 

It is probably not, wholly, correct. But baby, it feels so good. 

A shared a proportion.

Chapter 24.

The owner was no problem for me, though. He had a small cock, and would come in about 20 seconds in my ass, grunting and complaining that I did him too quick.

It wasn't my fault. Sometimes he shot his load standing right there behind me, before he got it in, even.

I would kneel down on the top of his desk, fully clothed, but with my tits hanging out and swinging. I would rest the side of my face on the desk, to balance with, and reach around to hike-up my tight mini skirt, over my bulbous, firm buttocks. He would be standing there with his pants and jockey shorts around his ankles, holding his 5 inch stiff cock.

I would open my thighs wide, and slowly peel-off my skimpy panties, pulling them down to mid thigh. Grabbing my buttocks with both hands I would pull them apart; around toward my front of me, using a lot of force. 

This would completely expose my red-brown colored puckered rose-bud to the world. Then I would open my bung-hole wide.

I have done this in mirrors at home: Only to see what it looks like, from the outsider's view. 

It is very impressive.

Usually I "come myself", on the barest glint of a reflection-looking-into myself in disbelief, and resident of the consolation, afforded amid the prize. A prize rejected on the basis of integrity---itself.

Integrity is valuable, but people sell it for inflated prices.

The cheapest integrity, is always bought for the highest price.

Chapter 25. 

I think it is too much of a visual, for most people, though!

When my rose-bud opens up about to about 2 inches in diameter, and the sight of the blood-red interior, surrounding the huge gaping, mysterious, black hole in the center confronts their senses and burns its image deep into the most pre-historic, animal, region of their brain; the very picture of it seems to bring up a combination of highly erotic yearnings coupled with the fear and anxiety of entering such forbidden lands. One would think that I had snakes, or spiders up there inside my ass, or carnivorous, little rodents just waiting to munch on the head of a cock pushed inside. I don't understand it? There's nothing up there, except a few sweet fragrant logs, that's all. I have been told that they have the distinct aroma of freshly roasted coffee beans, burnt toast, and a shovel-full of wet clay from the garden. Not at all what one would imagine--I imagine? 

The psyche just can't handle the sheer naughtiness of it, let alone the guilt, fear and anxiety of the thought of the impending act itself. 

It never mattered that much to me?

Chapter 26.

On occasion, if I didn't feel up to the owner shooting his saved-up load into my pooh-hole that day--and it wasn't that I "wasn't up to it": Hell I could take his 5 inches, and finish him off, lickety-split, whilst peeling an orange, and doing the crossword at the same time! But it was the drive home, that got me. 

I would have to stuff my panties with a bunch of paper towels for the drive, otherwise his "come" would liquefy, and leak out of my ass-hole, seeping straight through my panties and out onto my mini skirt! All I had to do to save my clothes, or avoid an uncomfortable drive home, was to open and close my bung-hole like a carp's mouth in a feeding frenzy. 

I would look back and see his contorted face, teeth hanging out to dry, grunting and squirming like a stuck hog, and load after load of come spewing out from the end of his rigid cock's eye, onto the floor, and into his pants. Try explaining that to the wife, buddy! 

I would put everything back into my clothing: pouring my tits into their cups, shoe-horning my ass back into their lingerie-containers, and heaving my cunt into its gusset-hammock.

Once all of my "equipment" was loaded back onto my torso, and everything was in the right place again, balanced and symmetrical--I just hate it when one cheek of my ass, falls out of my panties, I can see men, in the reflection of shop windows, walking behind me, listing to one side, as if trying to compensate for the observed incongruity--and so, with perfect equilibrium, and a smidgeon of poise, I would just walk out; my ass dry as a bone, inside and out--waving arrivedecci, nonchalantly behind me, into the air; as he tried to follow my rotund, rotating, buttocks, fueled by my unhurried stride; The distance between us lengthening with each and every baby step he took, almost tearing his pants in two down there, handcuffed around his ankles.

I would wave, and say.

"See you all next week, babes..." The prick!

(To be continued...)

The instant Sarah ripped her sticky panty-gusset over to one side, her huge vulva dropping out from beneath her; between her open thighs, that is.

Like oxygen masks dropping from overhead passenger-racks of a distressed jet-plane, as the cabin-pressure suddenly drops within the scope of the relative emergency.

Mayday, Mayday, Mayday! Going down...!

Chapter 27. 

Sarah took over holding my legs back for Tom.

She started to descend, over my head. 

Her love-tunnel was wide open and huge, and her desire-cream was driveling onto my lips and into my mouth and eyes. I couldn't see straight, but I could smell her approach! She hadn't washed her pussy today, again! The little bitch! 

Sarah's under-carriage docked securely onto my head, and I accepted it--as usual--washed or not! 

Her lips: So big and wide that they wrapped around my entire face, and I almost suffocated.

I was breathing lungful upon lungful of spent air into her huge love-tunnel; creating a positive pressure inside her uterus.

As I gasped for air, the back-pressure forced the pussy-scented air back into my lungs, like an anesthesiologist's breathing balloon. I had to bite her clitoris for her to allow me to breath every now and then between her frantic grinding! Tom was grunting, and snorting like a crazed hog, sniffing and licking the bottle from my ass.

Tom repositioned himself, between my legs, still strangling his cock in utter desperation, trying to save his come-shooting orgasm for my pooh-hole.

Sarah's stinking cunt was fully secured on me, and she was grinding her hips; rotating her slippery-hole over my entire face, like Tom Jones on steroids, and she was screaming at Tom to:- 

"Get it into her dirt-hole...now! "

Sarah, is a pig, and Tom is a hog. I rest my case!

I felt Tom's huge cock touch the entrance of my dirt-hole.

As he let go the choke-hold around his swollen shaft, I felt hot spurts of creamy-come shoot up into my ass; followed by the entire length of his throbbing spewing cock-head. 

Chapter 28.

Spurt after spurt of white, hot, come shot from the end of his huge, throbbing, magenta helmet.

...As he, relentlessly, drove his 4 inch diameter cock-head all the way up into my anal canal in thrust after, after thrust, after, almighty, thrust!

Again and again...and again, thundering in, and out, and in and out; faster, harder; faster, even faster again, and again, and harder and harder, faster, harder, faster--harder... Oh! Mercy me! Mercy please, Oh please... Yes!, Oh fucking yes, Oh! Please Mercy me...!

Yes, Yes, Yes! ...No! ...Oh, Fucking Yes! 

Chapter 29.

I came.

Blushing a second time.

Squirting onto his chest and belly with my piss. It was all I had to try and fight back at him with; the beast!

...Tom was screaming and howling, and yelping, and sniffing the end of the bottle, with deep, gurgling, growling sorts of noises, interspersed, between deep inhalations.

Shuddering and quaking: He shot every last iota of his load into my shit, and mixed it in good and proper, with his thick, rigid, battering ram of a cock. It was a good brew.

Sarah, was screaming all sorts of obscenities into the ether, and grinding her cunt around my face with a vengeance.

I could see from underneath Sarah, the beginning her come-run.

Her tight little puckered brown-eye, starting to wink, and spasm chaotically; as if it were trying to send out a visual Morse-Coded message, through waves of orgasmic pleasure: Pricking at her sphincter muscle. 

In her coming, she blasted her squirts into my face, at such short range, that it stung me as it hit the back of my throat, totally soaking my entire head, and almost drowning me.

When it was all over, we woke-up in a soaking heap on the floor; Tom with my mud all over his face.

In the heat of passion, he had succumbed to gorging himself on the pack of mud in the dimple at the bottom of the Chardonnay bottle, and licking the body of the container in total. It was licked perfectly clean!

Tom was embarrassed, He had gobbled a fair load of my pooh, greedily, and eagerly, and to think he hardly even knew me; but I was impressed, and felt-somewhat-honored. I started to warm toward Tom and teased that if he was around just think of all the money I could save on toilet tissue, Tom blushed. ...I had one on him, and he knew it!

Come was running out of my ass like a river, as I stood in the doorway waving them good-by. 

Usually I would insist that Sarah lick me clean, but tonight I was exhausted, and my nose was filled with Sarah's creamy love juice. I smelled like Sarah's pussy, all over. I needed to sleep, and staggered into the bedroom, flopping face down into my comforter. I would rise early tomorrow; take a shower and clean-up, then. I was way too tired to bother tonight, I thought, "I will dream of Tom eating my pooh, all night long." I had to get to sleep quickly. I was stinking, and I loved it.

It had been a good party. 

Chapter 30.

I wasn't more than two days later when Sarah and Tom came a-knocking on my door again. Apparently Tom couldn't get my ass out of his mind. Instead of curing Tom of his anal urges, the impromptu party, and Sarah's plan, had backfired on her--in a big way! All Tom was interested in, now, was pooh-hole! And predominately---mine!

But, Sarah had another idea...?

Sarah called me at lunch and ran her plan through.

"Hell", I thought, "What have I got to lose?" 

So I agreed.

Chapter 31.

Sarah's big idea to win back her beau was based on her own assessment that she can give a better blow-job than I can. I can't argue with that, being that she has sucked miles and miles of cock, as opposed to my couple of hundred yards worth!

The plan was to get Tom back to my apartment, and get him worked-up, and stripped. Hard and stiff, ready for the sucking. 

I was supposed to get on his stiff rod, as best I could, only to be replaced by Sarah, "The' Expert" cock-sucker! who would, deftly, finish him off, lickety-split, thereby showing-me-up, as an incompetent cock-sucker. 

According to plan, Tom would realize what he has in Sarah, and forget about my ass altogether. Whatever! ...Its her plan, not mine? ...Scheeesh!

Chapter 32.

Half an hour before they arrived for the second phase of the plan, I raked a handful of my skankiest panties out of the dirty laundry basket and turned them inside out; exposing the crusty gussets to the full critique of the world.

I dipped them into a bowl of lukewarm water, until the crispy flakes on the cunt-hammock reconstituted back into thick pussy cream.

I laid them over the space-heater grill, and turned it on half power, with full blower-fan. Within minutes the whole apartment smelled like a French whore-house, especially the bedroom, so much so that my nipples were sticking out for fine weather and my pussy got soaking wet. 

I figured that Sarah and Tom were about to arrive soon, so I lit a bank of scented candles that would serve to camouflage the more acrid constituent stink of my vulva's gusset cream aroma. 

I turned off the space heater fan, and threw my skanky panties back in the laundry basket, where they belonged. I slipped on some light background music, threw myself on the bed and flicked myself off in two minutes flat! OoOoOoOW! The perfume from my skanky panties always does that to me. It was a small orgasm, and I only squirted a few times into the bedroom closet mirror. I cleaned it up immediately!

The amalgamated fragrance issued forth by the gusset of my panties, always turns me, and many others on, too!

Recipe.

Fragrant cream:

Discharge of pussy:

Intermixed with dried-droplets of urine soaked up out of weeping urethra:

Couple with the merest hint of powdered skid-mark:

Mined;

From the depths of the bung-hole:

Baked between upper thighs--all day long:

In a blanket of sweated jungle bush pubic-hair:

Caught, unceremoniously, in cunt-hammock of knicker.

Oh! Yes.

Yes, indeed: For if this--concoction--were wafted over Lazarus himself, something would have risen? If not the entire body, then at least [a]--functional--part of it! JC possibly had knicker breath when he bade Lazarus to rise. Well, wouldn't you! I would.




Sarah



Chapter 33.

I licked the fingers I used to rub my crack with, as I heard the knock upon the door.

She was on-time! Sarah is never on-time? This must be important for her...

Chapter 34.

I wondered if I had any unsettled grievances outstanding with Sarah. I couldn't recall any; therefore I would not sabotage her effort to regain Tom tonight. I surely had no designs on him, or the expansive girth of his tool, but he did make me come when he fucked me in my ass, and that gave him--at least--a few "brownie-points", if you may excuse the expression, please.

I let them in. And kisses prevailed.

I Felt Tom's cock harden against my thigh, and Sarah's nipples stiffen pointedly into mine; as they inhaled the thick, camouflaged, candle-atmosphere of my space.

The burning scented wicks had done their duty, exquisitely! Funneling my pheromones into their bloodstream, via their lungs: The candle's scents, masking the "tap-on-the-door", of the---delivery-man: Footprints melting in the snow; treads blowing over, covered by the shifting sands of the desert...

Water flooding across the brow, cleansing one of Original Sin... The candles of time, dowsed in the river's flow... Come in, welcome--come in!

Chapter 35.

Superfluous chat filled the air. Gratuities abounded: And Tom hardly took his eyes off my ass! 

I winked at Sarah, but she thought I had something in my eye, and rushed over to attend.

I gave her one of my "looks" and she understood that she had misunderstood something.

After some awkward moments, I decided to take the lead, and pretended to pick something up from behind the television. 

Of course, I had my mini skirt on and no panties, and I opened my legs very wide before I slowly bent over.

Tom groaned, on his seat, and went absolutely wild!

He threw his glass of beer across the room, and tore off his clothes, howling. I looked back over my shoulder, and his cock was sticking out of him something terrible!

I motioned to Sarah, with my eyes to get on it with her sucking, but she was ogling my pussy and ass-hole, as much as Tom was!

The fucking bitch, still didn't know if she wanted pole, or banana-split!

Tom sprang to his feet, and struggled out of the remains of his hang-ups, by tearing his clothes off, and yodeling, some sort of--ancient battle cry? 

Seriously, it was beyond me? I don't know any Vikings, and Sarah, can't even spell the name... So this gig was all Tom's! ...Apparently?

As he was--incarnating--into the Ether, I remembered the plot, and rushed over to suck his enormous---thing!

I literally, couldn't get it into my mouth. I tried and tried, but of course Sarah could. She's such a show off!

But once she got it in past her teeth, she couldn't get it out again, and Tom couldn't go limp because he was turned on so much.

I was kneeling down, fingering my ass-hole, trying to get Tom to come and release Sarah from her jaw breaking experience.

In the end, it took 20 minutes with Sarah sucking madly, and me sucking his balls, and fingering his ass-hole, until he shot, what must have been 5 or 6 heavy loads of cummm into her head, with so much force that a torrent of sperm came shooting out of her nostrils. 

Tom deflated: His tube fell from Sarah's lock-jawed mouth, and we all laughed so much: Two streams of thick cream running from her nose, down over her lips and chin, and as she guffawed; blowing bubbles from her nose, that bent us over even more, until we were all rolling around on the floor, grabbing our aching tummies, begging to stop.

Chapter 36.

Finally the laughter subsided.

Sarah and I repaired to the ladies-room, for clean-up; she washing out her nose, while I scrubbed my finger from Tom's ass-hole.

I sniffed it before the scrub.

He didn't smell at all too bad. I thought that he must eat a lot of fruit, and nuts, because there was a fragment lodged under my nail.

I picked up a hint of mango and strawberry, with an after whiff of hops. I deduced that Tom must be a beer drinker, and the nut was, possibly, cashew. (I wheedled it out from under my nail, and fed it to Sarah in the bathroom, and asked her to identify it, when she was off guard lathering her face, and squealing due to soap in her eye. I didn't tell her where I got it, of course. I figured Tom must be a vegetarian then, who liked beer, a sort of, easy going vegetarian, because we all know what an uptight pain in the ass, those strict ones are!

Sarah couldn't positively identify the type of nut, but before she swallowed, I caught her soapy head between my hands and kissed her deep. Rummaging around inside her mouth deep and hard, flicking my tongue wildly everywhere inside her head, until my taste-buds got the answer from her throat. Yes! Indeed, it was cashew!

Sarah hugged me, and was shy. She loved being kissed like that, for what she thought, was no apparent reason. I knew different.

Chapter 37.

Sarah declared, once she had rinsed the soap out of her stinging eye, that she was feeling rather puckish now; since I had piqued her appetite with the nut. 

I said with a hint of envy, "It's a wonder [you're] hungry, after swallowing all! ...the available cumm for the night!"

Sarah looked at me in utter feigned puzzlement, and retorted, "Well, miss know it all, just what else could I do? I couldn't get the thing out of my mouth!"

It was a good answer, but...

I asked, incidentally, "How long have you guys been going together now?"

"6 weeks", Sarah shot back triumphantly.

Sarah has such a mind-boggling, insatiable, sex drive, that her boyfriends usually only last around two to three weeks tops! By then, she has fucked and sucked every last droplet of energy, let alone cummm out of their bodies. She is such a greedy little bastard!

Chapter 38. 

Generally, I would meet her, on weekends, for cocktails in the afternoon, and I would ask her, 

"Sarah, what on earth is that white crusty stuff in the corners of your mouth darling?"

She would roll her tongue around her lips and say, in a matter-of-fact way, 

"Oh, that! That's just, Bill."

...or John, or whoever her partner-in-grime at the time was.

I would look at her with knitted-brow, and say, 

"Sarah, you mean to tell me that white encrusted goo in the corners of your mouth is Bill's dried cummm...?"

Sarah would shrug her shoulders, and say in such an innocent tone of voice, 

"...I suppose..."

I would be furious!

"Sarah, you just kissed me--Hello...!"

"...And...?" She would ask in a slightly elevated tone.

"Sarah! You just gave Bill a blow job, and you didn't even clean your teeth! Then you come here to meet me, and you kiss me, with your boyfriend's come still on your lips! ...And besides, why don't you just swallow it all? I mean, what's with the dried cummm in the corners of your mouth? I just don't get it Sarah...?"

"Look..." she said, in that deep, low voice of hers, that she only uses when she gets really pissed-off.

"I was running late, alright--and I really wanted to see you--and I was hungry--and Bill was laying there on the couch watching the game with his buddies... 

I didn't want him to run out-on-the-town with them, and leave me behind, when I was out with you; so I just knelt down and sucked him dry, right there on the couch. His buddies thought it was a riot, but his balls must have been bulging, because when he let it loose into my head, I couldn't swallow fast enough, and some of it squirted out of the sides of my mouth. I knew he was finished for the night, and that wild horses couldn't drag him out now, let alone those lazy, drunken, bastards he calls friends. I was late, and I didn't have time to freshen-up in the bathroom even, and so, I ran out to see you. I love you so, so much: And on the way, I suppose, Bill's cummm dried on my lips...and well, that's it..."

She looked down, avoiding my gaze, and I saw a couple of tears roll out of her eyes, racing one-another, down her rosy, blushing cheeks.

In the silence of the moment, I wondered which one would reach her chin first...? 

Sarah was such a little bitch! OoooooW!

And such a fucking little actress, Huh!

I relented, and held out my hand to raise her cute, sweet, chin: I smiled, and gave her some inconsequential advice, that I would never remember myself, about swallowing cummm; and being in public places. It was all just [filler] shit, just to get over an awkward moment. 

I awkwardly blurted out that I forgave her, and bode her give me a kiss, which she did willingly, rising out of her wicker chair, almost knocking over the flower vase at the table's center, which I instinctively grasped without commotion, and I tasted Bill's cumm on her tongue and lips: I had tasted the likes of it before from her. 

"She'll never change." I lamented.

Chapter 39.

I licked my lips after the long kiss and--as Sarah plunked down into her seat again; her crocodile-tears evaporated into the nothingness that existed between us.

For this is southern California, and out here, from under our Caribbean hut café cubicle, with real fake palm thatching, and an ocean-side view, in crazy wall-painted Venice beach, where only feet away, across a smooth roller-skate path, which meanders some twenty miles along the perfect Pacific's shore rim, bakes the most beautiful, hypodermic-needle infested golden sands, known to man, and the azure of the ocean calls unto you, as skaters zoom by, leaving invisible trails of coconut suntan-lotion scent behind them, like the debris of a wandering comet evaporating its way to utter extinction; valiantly surfing the cosmos; pulled into the roasting corona, by the very attraction, of its own deadly sun. Everything out here isn't quite what it seems to be, including Sarah's pitiful Hollywood tears.

Chapter 40.

I ran my tongue into the corners of my mouth.

There, I tasted the very essence of Mary Jane whom I had licked so thoroughly before leaving to meet Sarah this day; knowing that once satiated, I would find her still to be there when I got home, sleeping-off the endorphin-rush of an unexpected orgasm that I forced upon her out-of-the-blue: Mary Jane, such a sweet tasting cowgirl: A prize of the Midwest. I would lick her saddle 'til the cows came home!

Chapter 41.

"6 weeks...?" I said, incredulously.

"And today, I suppose, is the first day he got a blow-job from you, hence the bulging balls, hence the over-flow, hence the dried cummm. Do you really expect me to believe all that...Hardly?" I added, sardonically.

"...No, I gave him a blow-job the first time I met him in the club, in the back hallway, behind the speakers in the side dance room. You know, the same place I lick your soaking, wet, pussy until you scream with delight, as you rub your red, hot, open cunt into my face and ruing my hair and make-up as you devour your almighty orgasm... You know, when you drag me there, after getting turned on dancing with those sluts of yours--and beg me to eat you, OoOoOoOoW! Sometimes, Veronica, I swear...OoOoOoOoW! I swear, sometimes you don't, ...don't..."

"...Don't what...Sarah? Don't—Respect you --?"

"I...I...I, was going to say, sometimes you make me feel like you...you...you, don't---love me."

I finished licking Mary Jane out of the corners of my mouth, and wondered if I was just the same as little sexy Sarah...? At any rate the little whore had me painted-in-a-corner, with her martyrdom, and acting! There was only one way out of this predicament...

This time I smiled and bent over the table to kiss her, knocking the vase of flowers over. Sarah couldn't care a hoot about the etiquette, or the deco. She would never think of saving the vase. The waiter appeared out of thin-air, and set the table again with a look of reproach about him. The cheeky bastard! He can kiss my ass for a tip now.

I thanked him cordially, with a winning smile plastered across the bill-board of my face, as insurance against him spitting on our food in the kitchen; the prick!

He waddled off, like Liberace on a treadmill: The cheeks of his little buns, dancing wildly, in his tight black polyester pants like two school boys fighting in a sleeping-bag. 

I was taking notes.

I thought, "I need to walk like that, more often, especially on shopping trips to Nordstrom's! Just think of all the pubic hair agony I could engender with my ass buns dancing the Rumba to the orchestrated beat of my panty-less "bumba"!"

Chapter 42. 

Sarah cheered up immediately following the kiss, and said, 

"You've been with Mary Jane, haven't you? I can taste her on your lips, and smell her on your breath."

I blushed, and fobbed her off of the scent, by pointing out to sea, at the blimp hovering-about, loitering in the sky like a giant floating turd, that refuses to go away, no matter how many time you flush. 

Sarah took the bait, and dropped the subject, and I licked my lips again to consume any remaining evidence. That crafty little whore: Sarah has played the dummy so many times with me, that she almost has me believing that she actually is dumb...! OooooW! The little vixen! Fucking clever little Bitch...!

I changed the subject three more times in quick succession, utterly confusing poor ole Sarah, and assumed my rightful place as the--responsible one--again, by ordaining, "Shall we order, now." 

I picked my menu up reading it intently, until I realized it was upside down. Sarah giggled, and I hit her on the head with it, and we laughed, and laughed. Oh, I just love Sarah, I always have, and I always will--I guess?

Chapter 43.

I ordered the soup de jour, and a small salad, with crab cakes on the side, and for the entrée, I went with a half bucket of steamed clams. Everyone loves the taste of my pussy a day or two after I eat crab and clams--I don't like either. I only eat them for effect, and what the "effect" will get me...down-stream. I can't keep Sarah or Mary Jane off my pussy for days following. So, I suffer the eating of them today, and revel in the licking that I know will follow t'morrow.

Sarah ordered the house, plus the kitchen sink...the roof, and the foundations. That little bitch! It was my turn to pay, but when it's hers, she magically gets an upset tummy, and orders from the children's menu, the crafty little cow! 

I asked, "How is your fillet mignon? It goes well with that Mane Lobster I think, don't you? I see your tummy has settled down from last time we had lunch..."

The fucking little bitch!

"Bon appetite baby... I love you, enjoy."

Cunt!

Sarah smiled chewing wildly.

I thought, " I wonder how long will Bill last?"

To look at Sarah, a 120lb, 5 foot, 5 inch southern Cal, blond beauty, with a set of jugs that could turn the head of the ancient statues of the Getty itself: Why, you would think butter wouldn't melt in her mouth! And her ass...well, her ass, is...perfection itself! I remember when she was going through her anal phase with me, and she insisted that I flick her wet pussy-hole, and stiff little clitoris, whilst she straddled over me, facing my feet, and when she was about to cummm, she would reach down and grab my ankles, and raise herself up onto the balls of her feet, squatting, with her legs as wide apart as she could manage, and at the point of orgasm, she would open her bung-hole, and drop the most enormous log out of that small little bung-hole of hers: Letting it slither freely from her, landing with a dead thud, between the cleavage of my breasts. Then she would run and hid in the closet for half an hour, until I had cleaned everything up, and pretended that nothing at all had taken place. We would cuddle on the couch for the rest of the night, watching movies, and usually, finish up with me pushing her face between my legs, and cuming over her sweet lovely lips, and squirting into her open, wet, mouth, while I watched the end of the movie, alone.

Chapter 44. 

I was always amazed at how wide her ass-hole could open, when she wanted it to! And she always smelled like spicy, coffee, and burnt toast. It wasn't at all unpleasant, or what I expected it to be. After a while it all seemed quite natural; but, I soon became bored though, waiting for her to drop her load, and the grunting, and squealing got on my nerves in the end. I found out that she was saving it up for me.

I was called out of town, unexpectedly; a business trip. Well, she didn't take a shit for 6 days, and upon my return--OMG! It took over an hour to get that thing out of her ass! It was over 18 inches long! And 4 inches in diameter at its widest girth!

That was it! I put a stop to the shitting, and her anal period, (revisited), abruptly came to an end. I kept the last gigantic turd though, as a souvenir: I have it in an old hat box, curled up like a sleeping cobra coiled in its putrid nest.

Chapter 45.

Apparently Sarah found this whole affair--the affair of shitting--somewhat therapeutic, and begged me to try it? 

I...I...I felt no--pull--for this, but she insisted, and so I relented and agreed to---give it a go?

We went to her place, and she got me so hot, and bothered, that I didn't know what was really happening, and when I was so, so, ready to cummm, she ordered me to turn my back to her face, and squat over her, with my legs wide--wide open--holding onto her ankles. My ass-hole, and my pussy hovering above her upper torso, and, according to her, this is where the therapeutic "healing" came in.

I was supposed to give myself up into the world, so absolutely, that my ass-hole, and urethra would take-on a mind of their own, and open, unashamedly; pissing, and dropping the entire content of my bung-hole upon a valued and loved one? I.e., Thus experiencing, unconditional--love...?

Hell, I thought I'll give it a try, if only to shut her up!

That night she got me hot, but I mean, really hot! With her licking and sucking, and flicking...OoOoOoOoW! That little bitch, she knew, exactly what she was about! She was intent upon, setting me--free--I guess.

I was on my back, and Sarah was rummaging around between my legs with her head, I was about to come, when she stopped. 

She asked me, "Are you ready to come?"

I answered, "Yes, you little bitch, now get your fucking head back down there, Now! OMG. You little cunt!"

Sarah said, "Oh, Veronica, I envy you so, so, much right now, I'm going to--"set you free"--of all of your inhibitions---resolved."

"Sarah, baby, can't we do this next time love?" I pleaded in my best martyr's voice.

OooooooW! She was stuck on it...!

"O-fucking-K, then! Let me be, fucking, re-fucking released then, what the fuck do I need to do now?" I pleaded in ignorance.

"Awwwwww, baby Veronica, trust in me, and you will see. Your soul will be set free, and your spirit will soar with the eagles." 

I thought, "Whatever..."

Chapter 46.

Sarah was like an excited kid at the playground, and dove onto the bed, ordering me to squat over her balancing on the balls of my feet, and to hold onto her ankles tight. 

I did as she bid me, my balance being regulated, on the swaying sea of her mattress, only by the minute adjustments made through my toes, as if playing a symphony across the ivory of a piano, but this time using pressure, instead of sounds. I stabilized myself, my ass-hole pointing up and open; my vulva dripping wet; all of this angled directly into the face of my closest lover.

Chapter 47.

Sarah whispered, as she brought her little hand up under me to flick my exposed clitoris, hanging down out of my vulva.

"Veronica, my love, are you ready to be set free...?"

I was ready, but I wondered was she?

Chapter 48.

Sarah rubbed my clitoris, with a rhythm of semi-quavers, interspersed a with measure of half notes, and stops, that ranged into complicated jazz arrangements, then back into lullabies, without as much as missing a beat...OooooW! Baby...This is why I love this girl...! Why, she has--rhythm--baby--Yeah! Rhythm!




Sarah



I was building again: building to a massive orgasm, I can tell you! 

My toes were playing Rachmaninov on the posture-springing of the bed. My bung-hole was totally exposed to my lover's face, and my cunt was dripping wet, running threads of love-tunnel juice down into her belly-button laying there beneath me.

I started to convulse.

The first signs of immanent orgasm.

I started to shudder, and moan.

Sarah said, "okay, my love, open up your heart, and open up your soul, and give it to me as you cumm. Give it to me baby, I am here for you!"

I was coming, and that was all I was interested in! All of the other stuff...well, that was strictly for the birds, baby; and Sarah, of course.

"Give it to me love", insisted Sarah.

I was drooling, and bridging over the horizon of my impending orgasm.

You know only too well

When one enters "The Zone":

When time ceases its relentless march forward:

When nothing can stop you:

When you find yourself in "The Gap", between temporal, corporeal reality, and the fathomless universe of the mind, and imagination:

When your orgasm has labored hard and long on its up-hill haul, and finally, you stand, triumphant, atop the Majestic Mounting of your sensuality's burning desire; a greedy, lustful summit.

...When you pause, with utter confidence; because you know that you have [it] in the-bag, now. You know you are going to get it, but up until this very moment---this wonderful moment---of knowing, standing there--victorious--looking down the Mountain-side, into the expanse of the lush valley below: Yes, up until this moment, you have been chasing [it], and chasing it up hill, to boot; with no guarantee of a pay-off: At the mercy of everything, and everyone, outside of yourself: All conspiring to rob you of your hard-won prize, your final shattering, shuddering bliss---your--orgasm!

Then, comes the turn-over!

When you know you have the edge, and now you try, and try---and try, to prevent! yourself from coming.

Torturing yourself, biting your lip, digging your nails deep into your breasts, pinching your nipples hard! Tearing at your hair, in the futile attempt to remain, "King-of-the-Castle", for just one more brilliant moment of pregnant, utopian, ecstasy--before you dive headlong off the rim of the precipice--freefalling into the glorious abyss below; accelerating, speeding, into the ultimate death of your erotic pleasure.

As you burn through your orgasm, in a universe set aside for just the two of you; A place saved for just that very purpose. 

A place which allows for the re-union of your reeling mind, and your quaking body--coming together at last, in the utter loneliness, of your private orgasm. 

OoooooW! Its so--ooo, so--ooooo beautiful! Oh! Oh!...Oh...yes, OMG...I want it so--ooo, so---oooooo much, but I don't want it to be over, Mmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Chapter 49.

Sarah wanted something from me that belonged in the world of---realism, in the world of practical, everyday conformity, and calculation...she wanted me to be--pragmatic--in my orgasm, and I felt I couldn't do that. So, all that is left of my connection to the world in the burgeoning advent of my cumming, is to take it for all that it is and all it has to offer: And then, on the other side, try, yes try--to fulfill the other's demands; but my orgasm is mine--and mine alone!

Chapter 50.

I entered the forbidden realm! Waves of pleasure rippled into and out of my body, as if I were connected to a greater source! I think I was screaming, or yelling, or barking like an ape high in the canopy of its jungle retreat; and yet I may have been absolutely stoic, and silent. The disturbing fact was, I didn't know which!

Chapter 51.

Somewhere in between one of the waves of utter bliss, I heard Sarah's voice tuning back in to my consciousness, urging me to let--it--go:

"Please Veronica, let it go... I will still love you, no matter what! Open up, and drop it all onto me. I can handle it. I want to handle it. I love you!"

A moment of clarity presented itself to me, and I thought, "Why not...Why the fuck not!"

I relaxed every muscle in my body, and as the next wave of my orgasm hit me, I farted, and a tiny squirt of pee leaked out of my pee-hole, and sprayed onto Sarah's expectant tummy.

My release was a dismal failure, and its implications faded into the background as another wave of endorphins rushed in to my hypothalamus, as my orgasm took its reliable course.

Chapter 52.

Many times, in the third week of my menstrual cycle, for some unknown reason, I could get either, excessive gas, or diarrhea. Of course either, or both, are undesirable, and I never know which way it would swing. It is the same for all the women in our family. We are all the same; and we all communicated this: It was a sort of family, personal, database--full of shit.

Anyway, to cut a long story short; it was just the wrong time!

Sarah reached up and pushed her fingers into my bung-hole, and all I felt was a huge full bubble in my tummy being released!

She opened my ass at the wrong time, and I'm sorry--I was fighting to keep it shut.

Once the dyke had been breached, though, the whole kit-n'-caboodle let loose, and I sprayed that bitch's head, with a full payload of nuts, and tomato-skins, and corn husks, and everything else you can imagine; and on top of all that, my urethra opened up and dropped its salty load too, with so much force that I could see Niagara flowing in my mind!

The jet of shit, blasted out of my ring, in a conical vortex: The apex of which approximated at an acute angle of 60 degrees; from the rose-bud vent.

By the time the diverging cone of blistering shit hit Sarah's head it was wide enough to completely spray-paint her entire upper-torso region; her entire head and half of the king-sized bed---in-toto!

My torrent of piss hit my clitoris, and labial lips on the way out of my urethra, causing wide-spread spraying and flooding.

I felt, that Sarah, was expecting a rather more--firm--delivery, than what she got, but if you play with fire...baby!

Chapter 53.

Well, there was nothing left to do, but to leave.

I wiped my ass on a dry bit of bed sheet, and dressed quickly.

Sarah seemed to either be asleep, or in shock, I didn't inquire.

She was frozen, mouth open, hand still raised in the same position that it had been when she first pushed her fingers into my tightly closed ass-hole. Her hair blasted back from her splattered face, blown back like fallen trees flattened, in the Tunguska manner; all pointing away from the epicenter of the blast-zone: She looked like a steaming life-sized milk-chocolate figurine, with nuts--But, that fixed, glassy stare, set rigid--carved--into her face, sent shivers running down my spine!

I just let sleeping dogs lie, and went on my way, closing the door quietly behind me.

Chapter 54.

Sarah and I met for lunch about a month later.

Nothing was said.

Sarah had a new boyfriend, I forget his name. It is not important.

She had white crispy residue in the corners of her mouth again.

I let it pass.



Sarah



My phone rang. I looked down and saw that it was Sarah calling me and my chest went pleasantly tight. Sarah was undeniably special. She had always been my favorite niece. Her mother and father sent her to live with me at least a week out of every summer, demanding that she be exposed to more than they could provide for her. Living in San Francisco I was able to take her to plays, concerts, and museums that her family did not have access to in their small town. Sarah always enjoyed our visits, and her artistic side flourished from her time spent in the city. I must admit that I adored my time with her. Since I had never married or had children, she filled a special role in my life that I had not even known existed. It was amazing to watch her develop from an awkward child into a confident young woman, and I probably doted on her a bit too much. Soon she was spending most of her summers with me, and occasionally other holidays as well. 

It was soon after she turned 18 that we started having sex. It was summer and she was upset that she would only be at my house for a week. Her parents wanted her to spend most of her summer vacation in preparation for her first semester at college. Even though she was only attending a community college, she was still moving an hour away from her parents and into her first apartment. I understood her parent's anxiety, and even though I was sad to only have a week with her, I tried to get her to see the logic behind our short visit. I also attempted to provide her with as much casual fun as could be crammed into seven days. We went to see Les Claypool, and ate a three-hour meal at her favorite restaurant. I took her to the Museum of Modern Art and the latest movie that she wanted to see. Every morning there was breakfast and coffee at one of the many shops that she loved, and the day before she left I threw a little bar-b-que so that she could spend time with my friends that she had grown close to over the past few years. We all sat around the back yard of my apartment complexn chairs and papasans, sipping beer from our favorite breweries, as meat and veggies smoked on the grill. Even though I usually did not condone under-age drinking, I even let Sarah have a beer in celebration. 

Even though Sarah was nearly twenty years younger than any of the other people at the bar-b-que she still managed to hold well-thought out conversations regarding books, philosophies, and current political events. I was feeling quite proud and attached to her that particular evening. At one point she went inside to refill some snacks and one of my friends remarked that she had developed into an amazing young woman recently. I could tell by his tone that, although he was impressed with her intellect, it was not all that he had noticed. I must admit that I had noticed her blossoming looks as well. 

Sarah was still in that innocent, young age where girls try to define their sexuality. Throughout her high school career, she had dressed slutty, and classy, and sloppy, rebelling against any category she might be put into. At age 18, she had now settled on a slightly revealing but comfortable style. She wore make-up occasionally, but not with any real purpose. Her hair, which was long and dirty blonde, was usually pulled back into a ponytail, and she loved sweatshirts or tank tops, nothing in between. Her curves had filled in completely. Her thighs were well-toned from track and cheerleading, and she loved to wear those high-cut shorts that were popular among girls her age. 

In fact, all week I had been noticing how adorable Sarah looked. She had a sweet and bubbly personality that endeared her to anyone she crossed, but she also had a sensual, playful side that I knew would drive men crazy. I was enjoying taking her out and watching the young men stare at her as she danced, or pondered paintings with her arm looped through mine. Although I am 38, I have not aged poorly. I have the tone and style of a confirmed bachelor. I am sleek and fit, and it was not difficult to imagine them wondering if I was her lover. Stranger sights have been seen in San Francisco. 

When Sarah came back out, she was carrying two bowls of chips and had discarded her sweatshirt to reveal a bikini top. Her chest was tanned and her breasts were perfectly rounded in that way that only lasts a couple of years, no matter how women try to maintain it. Her stomach was flat and torturously cute. My friend who had made the earlier comment gave a happy groan and a knowing wink towards me that made Sarah blush. After all, she wasn't oblivious to men. She set the chips down and curled up on my lap in the papasan that I was occupying. It was a big chair, and not an unfamiliar position for us, but I suddenly felt overly aware of her warm body curled up, lazily, against my chest. Her back pinned my right arm around her shoulders, and I could not decide where to put my left hand. I finally decided to rest it lightly on her thigh, and my fingers absently stroked her skin. She grinned at me, and I knew that she was enjoying my touch. Not in a sexual way, but not in a completely innocent way either, she wanted me to continue that sensual caress. I slid my hand just a bit further up than usual, letting my well-manicured fingertips slide beneath the hem of her shorts, and felt her head nestle down against my neck. 

Later in the evening, my friends had left and Sarah was helping me clean up the last of the food littered around the lawn. I took the two paper plates that she had in either hand, kissing her square between the eyes, as I always had. Only this time my lips lingered just a moment longer and I felt the wetness of them against her skin. I pulled away from her, smiled, and asked her to crack me open another beer. As she turned to enter the kitchen I swatted at her behind with my foot and she playfully dodged, just as she always did. 

I picked up the rest of the paper plates, threw them in the trash can, and entered the kitchen behind her. She was at the counter, fumbling with the bottle opener. Her legs curved cutely up into her shorts. Her back arched just the slightest, revealing tight muscles leading down to her behind. It was less of a conscious decision and more of an action that I took to test the waters. I stood directly behind her, pressing my chest lightly against her back, the front of my slacks brushing her shorts so slightly that I could not feel the weight of her body, but instead the static attraction between out two garments. I reached my arms swiftly around her, took the bottle and opener from her and opened the beer. Then, instead of moving away, I placed the beer between her hands, causing my forearms to rest across hers. She had frozen. 

"Are you comfortable like this?" I whispered in her ear. She took a moment, then relaxed ever so slightly against me, so that I felt her behind against my crotch. Her head fell back against my chest and I dipped my face down to smell her hair. She smelled exactly like summer should. I traced my fingers up her forearms and around her biceps. "Are you sure that you are comfortable?" 

She turned to face me, looking directly up at me with those always-trusting blue eyes, and without wavering, said, "Yes." 

I do not know if I leaned down to kiss her or if she reached up to kiss me, but by the time our lips met the kiss was a mutual effort. Her lips were soft and tender, her mouth wet and warm. I could tell that I was not her first kiss. In fact, I think that had been with the boy down the street a couple of summers earlier, but she still kissed with a lack of experience. To someone who has never gone much beyond kissing, kissing is an end in itself, not a means to rush by. She explored softly, taking her time and stumbling over my tongue. I groaned with pleasure into her mouth and I could feel her smile even though she never broke the kiss. She was wonderful. 

My hand found the sweet spot of her waist and pulled her hard into me, squeezing her skin. She pressed every inch of her body against mine, and I knew that she could feel my growing cock already searching for a way inside of her. But that could wait. I wanted to savor her, and I wanted to make this experience perfect for her. 

I finally pulled away from her kiss and she was still looking up at me with those saucer-eyes. I groaned again and almost pulled her back into the kiss, and she just giggled. Somehow I found the strength of will to stop kissing her long enough to take her by the hand and lead her down the hall into my bedroom. She had been in my bedroom plenty of times before. When she was younger she had even slept in the same bed as me when she missed her parents. In recent years that had stopped, except for the occasional short nap after long conversations, but she still had breakfast in bed with me and made me watch cartoons with her on Saturdays. I guided her to that familiar bed and sat down next to her. She was nothing but excitement. 

I began kissing her again, feeling like a teenager and a teacher all at once. I had my share of women every season, and I had never felt as comfortable and excited about any of them as I did with Sarah in that moment. I pulled at her hairband and released her ponytail, cradling her neck in my palm and pulling gently at the roots of her hair with my fingers. I pulled her head back and gently kissed her throat, and the first sigh escaped her mouth. It was the most beautiful sound that I have ever heard, breathy and honest, and it made her chest rise enough to meet my chest for the briefest of instances. I wondered how I had any self control in that moment. 

I dipped her back further, until she was laying comfortably against my pillows, and propped up on my elbow I took in her entire body. I let my fingers lazily trace from her shorts up to her bikini, barely brushing a nipple, over her throat to her lips. I looked deep into her eyes, and I told her with all of the honesty that I could, "You are so beautiful." 

She smiled again, lighting up the room a little more, and I bent down to kiss her with a tenderness that goes beyond family or lovers. The whole world stopped with my lips against hers, and by the time the kiss ended my fingers had found their way beneath her bikini to her swollen nipple. I tugged at the strings of her top and lifted the small fabric away from her skin, revealing brown nipples that were ripe for my tongue. By now I had no restraint and let out a low, primal groan as I reached my mouth down to her nipples. Her sounds met mine, and she rewarded me with a sharp intake of air as I sucked one nipple into my mouth and swirled my tongue around it. I kneaded one nipple between my fingers and sucked on her other breast and Sarah began to moan in rhythm to my mouth. She was such a sensual creature, but did not have enough experience to know how to let the tension build into a strong orgasm, and so she kept releasing little fits of adorable pleasure onto my sheets in the form of an arching back, whining throat, and groping hands. I kept my waist cleverly away from her, but let her hands roam freely across my shoulders and back, loving her enthusiastic attention. 

My hand left her nipple and slid down her firm belly, beneath the band of her shorts. Her pussy was so wet that there was no need to dip into her and release more juices. Her clit was slick and my fingers moved with an easy sensuality around her labia. She was alternating between moans and whimpers now and trying to squirm her pelvis to force my fingers inside of her, but I kept a slow, steady pace. Finally I stopped my hand completely and the only movement on the bed was her deeply panting chest. I kissed her lips very softly. 

"Sarah, I want to fuck you, so badly, more than I have ever wanted to fuck a woman before," I whispered. She squirmed against me, pushing, begging me with her body to fuck her, "But I need to know that you are okay with this." 

She groaned. "I am, Uncle Derick." 

"I need to hear you say it. I need to hear that you want it." 

Again she moaned, and I could tell that her young lips were shy to say the words. She delayed a bit longer by kissing me again, but I pulled back, my hand pressing firmly against her cunt, but refusing to move any longer. 

"I want you, Uncle Derick. I want you to fuck me. Please." 

I didn't need any more confirmation, and would not have been able to resist any longer if I did. In a single swift movement I had her shorts and panties on the floor next to my pants and boxers. She turned unto her side, facing me, and spread her legs so that the head of my cock rested against her pussy. She ground her hips against me and I felt her slick, hot juices coat my cock. She was an unbelievable woman, her body purely erogenous, and she shivered every time I touched her. Still I did not burry myself inside of her. 

"You are absolutely sure?" I asked, one final time. 

"Yes, fuck me!" She cried out, a single frustrated hot tear slipping down her cheek. 

I complied. I did not burry myself deep within her as I wanted to, but knowing this was her first time I eased just the head of my cock into her, allowing her to rock back and forth against it at her own pace. Eventually she had taken about half of me into her and seemed comfortable so I flipped her onto her back and started a gentle rhythm. With each thrust I went deeper into her young, dripping pussy, and fucked her just a little harder, and a little faster, building the tension in her young body. 

Finally I was able to fully fuck her, the base of my cock hitting her pussy, and my balls swinging against her ass. As soon as I picked up the rhythm she began to come. She cried out and shuttered and her mouth went wide in the most beautiful, "O," shape I had ever seen. I was quick to kiss her as she finished climaxing, and I kept my lips pressed tightly against hers until I felt that I was about to orgasm as well. I bit hard into her bottom lip and allowed her to open her mouth again. The new rush of oxygen caused her to orgasm again, and I felt her pussy tighten around my cock just enough to push me over the edge. I had intended to pull out but there was no chance to and I thrust deeper into her, burying my cum inside of her. 

I collapsed on top of her, burying my head into her shoulder, smelling her sweat. 

"Wow," she breathed. I nodded. 

"Yeah, Sarah, wow." 

That was two years ago. Since then we have had many similar occasions. She comes to visit me as often as possible, and has become an amazing lover. She can do things to me that a woman twice her age lacks the creativity and confidence to try. I always look forward to our visits. Even though I know that she dates men her age while she is at school, and she knows that I date women my age, there is an undeniable chemistry between us. Of course, when we are apart we live our separate lives, and calling is not an often occurrence. I wonder why she could be calling and hope that it is not to cancel our planned visit this weekend. 

To be continued.



Sarah



Peter and I are high school friends, college buddies and neighbors now. We go long way. He is younger than me by few months. He always ribbed me about being the old guy. We work in the same office. I am his boss and Partner in the company. We both looked out for each other. This is one hell of an advantage in corporate world.

People say that we are like pair of tigers, hunting together when on a deal. Peter is more of an extrovert with boyish charm. I am introvert with calm but ruthless disposition. He always makes the first connect, entices the party, I have the patience and negotiation skill to reel them in. This approach always nailed it for us, be it dames or in the board room. Socially our families interact at parties, but they are just ornamental to the friendship between us.

Peter and I are working on a multi-million dollar deal with Japanese firm. The success of this deal can catapult Peter into being partner on my recommendation. Peter visited Tokyo a month back to close the deal but could not convince the guys. Maybe his easy going pleasant disposition did not gel well them. If the board came to know about this, Peter's high paying job would be on line. Failure travels fast in our circle. Peter would be highly impacted. You see- He bought the new place with high mortgage payments and his kids had just started in private school, long held cherished desire of his wife. 

To give it a last try I flew to Tokyo last week to convince the clients to go with us. The talks went well and my personality seems to sit better with them. The clients did not say yes right away. They said that they'll revert to us the following week. Before I left, they asked me to assure them that I'll personally monitor the program.

My wife Sheila went to her parents place while I was away and she would be back on Sunday evening. I landed back Saturday a day early. I got up early. All that globetrotting messed my body clock. I knew Peter would be at gym and decided to wait to brief him about the trip until his return. To unwind and fill the time, I started to fix the garden. 

After a while I heard Peter slam the car door as he just returned from gym. I smiled as I saw proof of our different personality again; Peter drove a swanky red Porsche and I drove a Jeep. Peter saw me working on the garden and invited me for a beer at his place. Peter and I started exchanging the notes of the last week at work.

Sarah, Peter's wife, walked onto us, two sweaty guys slouching in their tracks. Peter asked me to join them for the meal as my wife is yet to return from her parents place. Peter and Sarah's kids, Jamie and Nicole, were at their grandparents place. I agree it must be hard for Sarah to accommodate unplanned male bonding at drop of a hat. I could sense Sarah's discomfort at the invitation and her silent fuming. Throughout the meal Sarah was flighty and guarded. When our hands accidentally touched, as we reached for the dish at the same time, she jumped as if she were scalded. 

I spent rest of the meal noticing Sarah. The slight swell of her pert 36B breasts in deep V of her spaghetti straps, the flowing fit of her summer dress falling over hips emphasized her lush curvy hips, the glimmer of light on her shiny shoulder length deep red hair, the twinkling long danglers in her ear, her brown eyes with long lashes, her full wide mouth painted pink – which I wanted to bury myself into while she licked me slowly. Oh and the way she smelled. I found myself flaring my nostrils like a bull in heat to breathe her spicy scent into me. My cock stirred to semi erectness.

As it was football season, after the meal Peter and I sat down to watch the game. The match was playing on loud. Peter raised his eyebrows when we heard, over the din of the game, Sarah slam down something in the kitchen. Peter chuckled and said that the unexpected plan of him inviting me for meal seems to have miffed Sarah. I told Peter that it was insensitive of me to barge in on their weekend and that I will go apologize to Sarah. Peter shrugged and said good luck for Sarah always has bad temper for trivial things and it's hard to talk her out when she is in one of her moods. I smiled and told Peter not to worry and that I will try and fix this too. I walked into the kitchen.

Sarah was at the counter looking out of the window drying her just washed hands. Due to the racket from the game she did not hear me come in, as I went and stood behind her. The slight summer breeze from the kitchen door looking onto garden on the other side was ruffling her dress making the line between her ass cheeks play hide and seek with the soft fabric. The image of Sarah in swimsuit at our last outing on the beach flashed before my eyes. I devoured her with my eyes – her bare long arms, supple thighs, exposed calves, small feet encased in stilettos, her red painted toenails peeping out - I was rock hard. 

I pulled down my tracks, moved closer behind her. The next few minutes which followed are lost in haze- I raised her dress, lifted her right leg and plunged my thick cock into her cunt after I tore her lace panties in a flash. 

The sudden shock of forced intrusion into her body made Sarah want to turn but she found herself trapped between David and the counter. Sarah snapped in low voice "what the fuck are you doing, get off". She has one hell of a sassy mouth.

Sarah started struggling to displace him. David just held her for a while in his not so gentle hold, forcing her to still with his arm banded across her breasts and arms. She found herself no match to his strength. He just gave into the feeling of her hot cunt on his cock and breathing in her sweet scent.

She whimpered "Please David". 

David licked her neck and started to pump into her in quick strokes as he sucked on her neck. 

At this Sarah again tried to free herself, he held her arms with one hand and pulled down the straps of her dress with other. Her entire dress was at her waist. He squeezed her breasts roughly. She squirmed- The instant assault on her senses, the hard quick fucking he continued all along was raising conflicting responses from her. The realization that her husband was in the next room made her whimper as David was mauling her breasts and fucking her now gushing hole from behind. 

Sarah whispered "No David, you shouldn't do this". 

David said in coarse low voice "Don't ask me to stop. I have to fuck you Sarah". 

The raw gravel in David's voice spiraled right to her belly. To be desired beyond reason, doubt, caution and control made her suck her breath. She involuntarily raised her butt and pushed her breasts into David's calloused palms. David moved her left leg to get deeper into her. Her wetness was coating his cock now. 

Their respective soft noises of copulation were drowned by the match noise. 

Sarah mumbled "Please, Uh, Please, uhuhuh,  David Please'.

David rasped "Yeah baby, will please you"and completed the sentence after couple of hard strokes by saying "and myself".

Her head filled with power at this response; to prove and test his desire for her she tried to move David off again for the last time. David pushed her down to the counter which plastered her breasts to cold granite. He bit hard into her shoulder to tame her as he rammed her with more force to show who the master is. 

Sarah mewed at unexpected pleasure at his dominance and powerful fucking. 

David grabbed her hair and twisted her face to tongue kiss her into submission. She raised herself off the counter and surrendered by raising her arms and entwined them behind his head to deepen the kiss. 

She moaned between kisses "More David, please more Ummmmm, more, more". 

David increased rhythm of his strokes on hearing Sarah give in. He pinched and pulled at her breasts, a man who subjugated the woman and wanted to leave his mark on her. He pushed his two fingers into Sarah's mouth which she started to suck. He thrust himself into her, out of control, raising her off the ground. His grunts and her delighted cries were reaching the crescendo, clearly competing with the game noise.

Peter realized that it's been long since David went into the kitchen and wondered if he needed to be rescued from his feisty wife. 

David's eyes glazed with pleasure as he tuned out rest of the world except for moving in and out of Sarah's burning hot vagina. She was now bouncing on David's cock as he fucked her in frenzy, kissing, biting, licking, sucking at her neck and shoulders in battle to empty into her. David pulled Sarah's ass towards him as his balls tightened and he shot continuous ropes of gism into her cunt. Sarah squealed her climax as hot cum filled her. 

David laid his head on her shoulder. His cock was coated in their juices and now nestled between her naked beautiful ass cheeks. David's cum started to slide down Sarah's leg in slow race to reach her stiletto. 

After a long time Sarah felt used, satiated and womanly. She let out long sigh. It's been a while since Peter and she fucked spontaneously after the kids came. She stirred at this thought. 

David felt Sarah's body tense; he raised his head and followed her gaze to look into Peter's eyes.



Sarah



Sometimes, I think I must have the best job in the world. As part of my work, I met a girl a few weeks ago. Not a girl, really. A woman. A truly fascinating woman. Her name is Sarah.

I'm a private investigator for a boutique divorce law firm. It's not as glamorous as it may sound. I do rack up the frequent-flier points, and yes, I went to Las Vegas last Christmas, but it was for work. I was trying to get video of a suspected cheating husband. To a degree, I understood when I spied on him. After all, his wife was a shrew, and he was a typical guy. The young lady he took to his room while his wife finished her shopping did a Tahitian hula/reverse cowgirl thing that I had never seen before.

A lot of my work involves researching hidden assets. Sometimes, I'm looking for real estate holdings or off-shore bank accounts. Sometimes, it's artwork or jewels. Often, I'm at a desk, and when I do go out on field-work, there's no Indiana Jones or Mission Impossible stuff.

The senior partner (known among the staff as The Ice Queen) called me to her office. "Don," she asked, "if I told you I wanted you on a red-eye flight Sunday night, what would it do to your other cases?"

"For how long?"

"I wouldn't normally ask you to do this, but ..."

"Bullshit, Marian," I interrupted. "How long do I have to be away?"

"You have all the budget you need on this one to hire whoever you want to help you. If you get yourself a good forensic accountant, you should be on the plane back home Friday night."

"Some clients will argue, but nobody's world will come to an end if I'm not here for a week," I said. "It's a good thing we love each other."

"Just remember who pays whom, and why. Clean up your loose ends and go home. Pack for a week in Virginia, near DC. A car will pick you up and take you to the airport. Be ready Sunday morning at ten." Marian handed me some file folders and a small bundle of discs, and motioned me away. "Go, before we do something stupid."

My new job was to dig up the dirt on a business. The estranged wife has a large block of shares in her husband's enterprise, and she feels he's siphoning off money, lowering the value of her holdings, which would be beneficial to him when he is ordered to buy her out.

Even though I probably have learned enough over the years to take the exams, I'm not an accountant. This job needed one. From an assignment several years ago, I know a gentleman who is a senior partner in a successful accounting firm in the area. I gave him a call. He agreed to "rent out" his best forensic accountant, a Mrs. Sarah Blevins. Her schedule would be clear late Monday morning.

Her curriculum vitae had me hoping for a dynamic, no-nonsense woman with a sharp mind and a bit of cynicism, all business, and hopefully, a stickler for details. I wanted someone who could find evidence of fiduciary mistakes by the company's own financial people, or signs that the books had been "cooked."

I've teamed with this kind of specialist before. They're often the nerds of the accounting world. Based on the people I had worked with in the past, I anticipated a plain looking woman.

That's not what I saw when she came into the lobby. She was taller than I expected, honey-blond, blue-eyed, and pretty. If she wore make-up, it was subtle. Dressed in a conservative skirt and jacket, she spoke with a soft but confident voice laced with the sweeter parts of a southern drawl. She looked like a woman you could enjoy taking to dinner, or helping with a project she's doing as a Sunday school teacher.

My first impression was to see her in the role of trusted executive secretary or elementary school principal, but this assignment called for more than that. I needed a rabid badger.

She took me to her office to discuss the case. Following her down the hall, I played with the idea of those long legs in a much shorter, tighter skirt, with dressy heels replacing the sensible office shoes she wore. I wondered what her long hair would feel like in my hands.

"You're disappointed, aren't you, Don?" she asked, after she had closed the door and taken her place behind her desk.

"Excuse me?"

"I get that a lot. Being a woman is a handicap in business. At least it seems that way to me," she said.

"I don't look down on women in business, Sarah. I'm not that kind of guy."

"You've read my curriculum vitae, I assume," she said.

"I did, and I was impressed."

"Would you have been as 'impressed' if I were a man? Or did you just think my qualifications were good for a woman?"

"Where is all this coming from?" I asked.

"Look, I know what your employers do. They screw people out of money in divorces. They're very good at it," she said.

"I try not to think of it that way. Are claims exaggerated? Sure. On both sides. Are mistakes made? Yes, unfortunately. We're all human. My job is to make sure that all assets are accounted for, and that my employer's client gets compensation for the value of the couple's shared holdings and for the pain and suffering of a failed marriage."

Sarah got more animated. "Marriage is sacred, as far as I'm concerned. People stand there in front of whatever they consider to be God, and swear an oath to each other. That's one of the things that ticks me off. This country has become all about getting someone else to pay through the nose for your dumb mistakes. In a marriage, unless you're completely stupid, you should have known what you were getting yourself into."

"I'm not completely stupid," I said. "I'm smart enough to have stayed single. Look, if you're not comfortable working with someone who does this for a living, I'm sorry I wasted your time." I stood and turned toward the door.

"Wait!" she cried. "Please. Oh, dammit, I'm not good at this." Suddenly, her bluster was gone. "Won't you sit down?"

I did. I looked at her, waiting for her to continue. She was staring at the screen-saver on her computer monitor, playing absent-mindedly with a wisp of her hair that was draped over her chest. She took a deep breath, and then broke into a weak smile.

"That's probably the worst job I've done introducing myself since I was about twelve," she said. "May I start over?"

I stood up, smiled, and extended my hand, just as I had done before. "Hello, I'm Don Croswell."

She gave me a smirk, stood, and said, "Good to meet you, Don. I'm Sarah Blevins." She laughed as we shook hands. "Please, sit down. Would you like a water?" She swiveled in her chair and got two bottles from her mini-fridge. "I'm a competent accountant. My records prove that. I also have a very good nose for bullshit."

"That's what I need. This guy is hiding something. I'm just not sure where or how."

She said, "When my boss told me about this assignment, I was anxious to work with you because of what you do, not who you work for. You expose liars. You search for the truth. That's what I do, too. Look, Don, I'm sorry, but I'm guilty of a little bit of hero worship here. You look at the whole picture. All I do is give you some financial details."

"If you can give me those details, I'll make sure my employers know exactly how valuable your assistance was. There may be need for your services in the future, if you're willing."

"I have a career with this firm. As I understand it, the boss is basically 'renting' me to you," she said.

"That's right, and I'm not in a position to offer anyone a job anyway, but I've given references before that have gotten a little freelance work for some people. In one way or another, we're all in the information business. Networking is important, and I've got a big address book," I said.

"Let's see if I can help you first," she answered.

"How do you want to start?"

"With lunch. There's a cafe downstairs."

"I saw it," I said. "I'm on an expense account, so my employer is buying. I'll drive."

We walked through the parking garage, Sarah stopping to get an attache case from her minivan. I had parked my rental car out where people were less likely to hit it.

"Oh my," Sarah murmured when I hit the remote locks on the silver Mercedes SLK. "I never rode in one of those."

"I hadn't either. Triple upgrade from the rental car company. That's why I said I'll drive. It's a lot more fun than the car I have at home. Where's a good place to eat?"

During lunch, she told me a bit about herself. "I'm thirty-seven. I have two kids. I had to delay presenting my master's thesis because I went into labor with my daughter two weeks early. I'm a hard worker, Don."

"If we do this, we're going to spend a lot of time together, you know," I said.

"As long as I can get six hours sleep and a shower, I can be on the job. My husband, Tim, will work from home. I've done this before," she said.

I paid the tab, and we walked to the car. When we were on the highway, heading to the factory, I asked, "You're saying you'll work past five o'clock?"

"Don, I may be younger than you, but I'm not naive. I know what it takes to succeed in this business. I'll work as long as necessary to get the job done."

"All work and no play makes Sarah a dull girl," I observed.

"I didn't think it was that obvious," she said.

Great. I must have hit a nerve. I said, "That was rude of me. I was trying to be funny. I was willing to settle for lame, but I didn't mean to be insulting."

"No, no, it's okay. You're right. I do work all the time. Tim keeps telling me I'll be the most successful person in the morgue some day. I've always been like that. It's how I tackled school, even as a little girl. It's the way I managed to make dean's list every semester in college while working full-time and playing Susie Homemaker for my husband.

"When did you get married?" I asked.

"Right after high school. We both worked and went to college at the same time. He got a good job, and I went on for my master's. We even started a family. Somehow, we made it work."

"Like I said before, I'm impressed. Here's our exit." I said nothing more, enjoying the muted music of the car's exhaust, as I tapped the paddle shifter to slow us down.

The owner met us at the door, smiling. "Hi! I'm Bill Owens. Did you have any trouble finding the place?" He gave us the grand tour, treating us like we were potential investors. After assigning a secretary to run errands for us, he took us to a conference room where we could spread out whatever materials we asked for.

When we had a moment alone, Sarah said, "My bullshit sense started tingling as soon as I saw him."

"Okay, then it's not just me. You think he's too good to be true, too."

"Absolutely. Especially with the creepy vibes I'm getting from him. I'm wearing slacks tomorrow. Loose ones," she chuckled.

We worked until the office staff was leaving, and Owens escorted us out. He locked the front door behind him. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Croswell, Ms. Blevins. Will I see you in the morning?"

"We'll be here at nine," I said.

"Great. I'm looking forward to it. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a dinner date," he said. He hurried off to his car.

Sarah and I got in the Mercedes and watched Owens drive away.

"What do you think so far?" I asked.

"Am I being hyper-sensitive? That guy is a total creep! Just having him look at me made me feel dirty," she said.

"I saw him. He wasn't even trying to be subtle."

"You don't look at me that way. I don't feel like a specimen under a microscope with you."

"I'm subtle."

"Oh, you're bad!" she laughed. "You had me fooled. I thought you were a gentleman."

"I am. I just meant,... well,... I look at you, but I don't drool over you like he did."

Sarah stared at me, a combination of shock and amusement on her pretty face. "But you've checked me out? Is that what you're saying?"

"Well, uh, yeah, I guess. I'm a man. You're a very attractive woman. So yes, I've looked. Don't sue me."

"I won't."

"Look, Sarah, I feel really awkward. I'm digging myself into a hole here. What I'm trying to say is, I see how you work as well as how you look. Is that so bad?"

She was silent for a moment. "No. I guess not. I'm just not used to getting compliments. At least, not on anything but my work."

"That surprises me. I'll bet your husband tells you how nice you look all the time."

"No, that's not what he focuses on."

I started the car. "I guess I should get you back to your office so you can get home."

"Do you want to discuss what we did today, and what we want to accomplish tomorrow?" she asked. "I already told my family I'd be late. Tim will make dinner while the kids do their homework, and he'll come up with something fun to do with them until it's time for bed. We share pretty much all the childcare and household responsibilities. He's Mr. Mom when I do work like this."

"Should we stop for dinner and a drink?" I asked.

"Not a bad idea. Just one drink, though. I do have to drive home at some point."

"I'll have to drive you back to get your car, too, so yes, just one," I agreed. "Mind if I put the top down? Your hair won't blow too much."

She looked up. "It's metal, isn't it?"

"I guess so." I pressed the button that began the transformation.

"Oh, my father would love this thing! He's such a car nut!" she said, in the most animated voice I had heard all day.

"This is the 'play' part of that all-work-and-no-play thing I mentioned." I eased the sleek roadster into traffic, and soon we were on the highway.

"Where are you staying?" she asked, wisps of her honey locks dancing in the breeze.

"There," I said, pointing to a sign advertising my hotel.

"Do they serve food in their bar?"

"Sandwiches and salads. We can sit and talk."

"Sounds good," she said.

I parked the car, and we walked into the hotel lounge. The place was almost deserted, and the music was quiet enough for conversation. We found a small table, got our menus, and placed our order.

"I just had an alarming thought," Sarah said, after the waitress brought our drinks.

"Oh?"

"Yes. What is a nice housewife like me doing here with another man?"

"Is that what this is, in your mind?" I asked. "To me, it's business associates grabbing dinner, unwinding and having a strategy session."

"It is, of course," she said, "but how does it look?"

"Who cares? People do this all the time. You're putting yourself in the exact niche that brought on your little show in your office this morning. You know that, don't you?"

She sighed, looking down at the table. Then she raised her eyes to mine. "You're right. I try so hard to be one of the guys in the office or when I'm out in the field, but sometimes I just can't do it."

"Why can't you be Sarah Blevins?"

"I don't know," she said, almost to herself. She sipped her drink in silence.

I asked, "What are your overall thoughts on what we saw today? You mentioned your bullshit sense as soon as we walked in there, and you seemed like you were onto some stuff right away."

"You painted a pretty accurate picture of what to expect, although you failed to mention what a smarmy little creep Owens is."

"We're going to bring him down if there's anything at all wrong," I said. "We're playing detective here."

"You make this sound so clandestine," she grinned.

"Only in my Walter Mitty fantasies. Seriously, though, do you agree that there is something funny about those books?"

"I have some questions," she said. "A lot of them, in fact."

"Good. Now, off business for a minute. Who is Sarah Blevins? What makes you tick?"

"Honestly? Well, there's Sarah, the hard-working forensic accountant. That's who you saw today. There's Sarah, the wife and mother. I can bore you to tears with stories about potty training and parent-teacher conferences. I can tell you how to get grass stains out of little league uniforms and bubble gum out of long hair, and at least five great salsa recipes."

The waitress brought our dinners. When she was gone, I asked, "What about Sarah, the person?"

"Hmmm. Well, I'm the only child of two salt-of-the-earth working-class parents. I was a smart kid, bookish and shy. I knew the value of hard work, and my parents encouraged me in school. I did well. I was pretty much of a nerd. The quiet girl everyone liked, but no one really knew. I was okay with that."

"How did you meet your husband?"

"In Sunday school when we were kids. We started dating in high school, church youth group things at first. We really liked each other, and that turned into puppy love. As we got older, we started to realize how serious we felt about each other, and we got married the summer after our high school graduation. We spent the first four years of our life together in college, living in the married-student apartments off-campus."

"That's romantic," I said.

"It was, I guess. Anyway, after college, he got a very good job, so he supported me while I worked on my master's degree. We were doing okay, so we decided to start a family. Two kids later, I was lucky enough to get a job where I can actually use my skills."

"You got up to speed on those books faster than anyone I've ever seen. I've been doing this work almost as long as you've been alive."

"Thank you, Don. You're going to have to give me some time to study things, though, before I can give you an accurate idea of where the bad smell of that place is coming from."

"Of course."

She sat back in her chair. "This is nice," she sighed.

"This place?"

"No," she laughed softly. "I meant relaxing with dinner and a drink. I don't do this enough."

"How often do you take time for yourself?"

"I work at least fifty hours a week. I have two kids. I mow the yard for exercise and to get a little sun. I might do some web-surfing if I can't sleep at night, but time for me ended in high school."

"Don't you and Tim do anything together as a couple? A date night, a weekend away?" I asked.

"No, not really. We were going to go on a married couples' retreat with the church a couple of summers ago, but the kids got sick."

"Isn't there anything you do for fun?" I asked.

"Fun? Believe it or not, this is the first time I've been in a place that serves alcohol in about five years. It's probably the first time I've been out of the house alone for something other than work, the hairdresser, or the grocery store since I did my Christmas shopping last fall."

"I used to be like that," I said. "Worked all the time, trying to build my career. I never took time to play, or to really even build any relationships. It didn't make sense to try, since I was always on the road. When I landed this job with the divorce practice, I built a little house, but I never found anyone I wanted to share it with."

"I'm sorry," Sarah said.

"I'm not. Maybe I'm not the type that should be married. I'm just fine in my bachelor pad in the woods."

"Do you see anyone?"

"What are you asking?" I chuckled. "Do I ever have dinner with anyone, or do I get laid?"

Sarah looked embarrassed and then started to giggle. "I meant the former. I would have assumed the latter, depending on your answer."

"The answer to the former is yes."

"Okay," she replied. Awkward silence followed.

"I think I offended you," I said.

"No, no, it's okay. Sex was just the farthest thing from my mind."

It was my turn to be silent.

"You're older, so maybe you can tell me something, if you will?"

"I'll try," I said.

"I could ask my father, but I don't want to know his answer."

"What's your question?"

"I can't believe I'm asking you this. All right. At what age do men start to lose interest in sex?

"I don't know," I chuckled. "I haven't hit it yet."

"Really? How old are you?" Sarah asked.

"Sixty."

"You're my father's age, but you still think about, you know, women and sex?"

"Yes. Supposedly, a man's desire peaks in his late teens or early twenties. That may be true, but I haven't noticed much of a decline."




Sarah



She remarked, "I've read that women seem to want sex more when they get to their late thirties or early forties."

"So I've heard. Why are we talking about this?"

"I don't know," she answered, more to herself than to me.

"You're unhappy, aren't you, Sarah? You don't have to tell me why, but if it will make you feel better, I'll listen."

She gave me a shy grin. "How much do you charge for a session, Dr. Croswell?"

"No charge. Professional courtesy. Now, tell me as much or as little as you want," I said.

"Maybe we can talk while you drive me back to my car. I should try to get some sleep tonight."

Sarah was quiet for most of the trip back to her office building.

"Where do you live?" I asked.

"Twenty minutes up the highway from here. I would drive past your hotel on my way to Owens' building if I came straight from home. Should I pick you up in the morning?" she asked.

"Meet me in my lobby at eight. We'll have breakfast and then I'll drive us to the plant.

"Ooh, I'm going to meet an older man at his hotel again. Sounds naughty," she laughed.

"Breakfast and work sound naughty? You don't get out much, do you?"

"I was raised to work hard. It's what I do. Anything out of my routine can seem like an adventure to me," she said.

In the parking garage of her building, Sarah got out of my car, but leaned in to say, "See you in the morning!" I got a quick close-up of her chest when she did that, and a nice view of her legs when she climbed into her minivan.

The next morning, Sarah was waiting in the lobby when I came off the elevator. As promised, she was dressed in slacks with a matching blazer, over a light sweater. If she was trying to cover up her good looks, she failed miserably. Even in this outfit, she was very attractive. Her height and those long, long legs were simply accentuated by the full-cut trousers she wore, and, if anything, I got a better appreciation of her trim torso and entertaining bust line. With her hair pulled back and held in a pale blue clip that matched her eyes, she looked even better than she had the day before. Even more desirable.

"Good morning," I called.

"Hi!" Sarah smiled, turning to greet me. "Ready for breakfast?"

"Sure." We walked toward the restaurant.

The place was set up as a buffet. We got trays, and she took a lo-cal blueberry muffin, a grapefruit half, and black coffee. I almost felt guilty piling my plate with scrambled eggs, sausage, and "hash browns," but that's what I felt like eating.

"No wonder you look the way you do," I remarked as I buttered a piece of toast.

"What? This?" she asked as she picked a bit off the muffin and popped it in her mouth.

"Yes. I thought we were having breakfast. I feel like a glutton, sitting across from you."

Sarah laughed. "You said last night you wanted to know more about me. Here's something I wouldn't tell just anyone. I made French toast for the kids this morning before they left on the school bus. I make damn good French toast. I had some nice, crisp bacon with it. It's okay, I did my miles on the treadmill after I got home last night."

"I see you wore slacks today."

"Yeah. That creep doesn't need to be looking at my legs like he did," she said.

"You'll break his heart," I teased.

"Do I look okay in this outfit, Don?"

I looked at her between sips of my orange juice. I wanted to tell her that she would probably look great even in a burka, but instead, I said, "I think you look just fine. I like what you did with your hair. If you were going for business professional, I'd say you pulled it off."

"I wanted to look a little more severe today, you know, hair tied back, ready to start digging. Maybe these will help." She fumbled in her bag, pulled out a pair of reading glasses, and perched them far down on her nose. "I decided to give the eyes a rest from contact lenses today. I have my prescription sunglasses for driving and these for work."

The glasses certainly completed the look, if she wanted to resemble the librarian that gave all the guys wood in high school. "Perfect," I deadpanned.

We worked non-stop that day, eating delivered pizza in the conference room. It was almost six o'clock when Owens appeared in the doorway. "Should I start another small project? Or are you two about ready to call it a day?" he asked, still wearing that painted-on, cheerful, lecherous smile.

"Are you at a good stopping point, Ms. Blevins?" I asked, saving my file and closing my laptop.

There was something in her eyes when she spoke. "Might as well," she replied. She packed up her materials.

As Owens ushered us through the door, he said, "Lovely outfit, Ms. Blevins. Is it a designer I should know? Even these loose, non-tailored styles look good on a body like yours. Maybe it's the sweater."

Sarah gathered herself to her impressive full height and gave him an icy stare. "Clearance racks at the mall last year, if you must know. You are starting to be inappropriate, Mr. Owens. Good day." She strode off in the direction of the car.

"Owens, think about the laws we have these days about harassment, and the court cases. You already have enough problems. I'll let your secretary know when we'll be back," I said, as I turned to catch up to Sarah.

She threw herself in the car as soon as I unlocked it, and already had her seat-belt on by the time I opened my door.

"Get me out of here."

"Sarah, that bastar...." I began.

"Drive, please. I'd like to have a drink. And then I'll buy you as many as you want. I'm going to have to drive home. You just have to get on the elevator."

"Why are we drinking?" I asked.

"Hush. I need to look up a few things," she said as she worked with her phone.

I drove to the hotel in silence, parked the car, and turned off the engine.

After a moment, Sarah said, "Can you wait a minute or so?"

"Of course." The car made its muted cool-down noises, and Sarah's nails clicked on her screen.

"Okay," she said with a grin, putting her phone away. "Now, yes, let's have a drink. I need to talk to you."

We found a quiet booth and placed our order. "I'm waiting for someone to get back to me," she said, "but let me tell you what I do know. I understand the real reason his wife is divorcing him."

"The payments to their former housekeeper, that Jamaican woman," I said.

Sarah replied, "I think there's more. Everyone knows he cheated once. That' on record. It was when he started leering at me that I decided to look for more of that sort of nonsense. After all, he's been making those payments to the Jamaican for almost fifteen years. That's a long time for a man who has strayed once before. Besides, there seem to be company expenditures that could be similar to the support payments he's already making privately."

"Company expenditures?" I repeated. "Did you find anything concrete?"

"When my friend gets back to me, we'll know if I'm right."

"Owens really pissed you off back there, didn't he?" I asked.

"Yes, he did. Dammit, I'm not that kind of woman. I'm certainly not dressing to seduce some slimy little man like that. Hell, I don't even have sex!"

Her words hung in the air for a moment before she realized what she had said.

"With someone like him, I mean! I can't believe I just said that!"

"He really offended you. Do you want to pursue it?"

"What, take legal action against him? Hopefully, it won't be worth it when his wife's attorney is done. Besides, Tim would never understand."

"What do you mean?"

"He would probably think I had done something to entice the pig."

"You haven't," I said.

"I'm certainly not trying to. That's not who I am. I'm not comfortable being sexual in public. I'm not sexual, am I? Be honest, Don."

"Do you feel sexual?" I asked.

She looked down, played with the ice in her drink for a moment, and then looked at me again. "Am I talking to Dr. Croswell now?" she grinned.

"Is it better if you do?"

"If I see it that way, then I can answer you. No, I don't feel sexual, not usually, anyway."

"You mean, not in public," I said.

"Hoo, boy, honesty time. No, I mean I don't feel sexual at all, anywhere, usually. Why am I talking about this?"

"You need some private time with your husband," I said.

"I try that. I manage to get five minutes of affection every once in a while."

"I see."

"He's actually said that he does it to please me, but he's finished in no time, so I fake it so he can get some sleep," she said.

"Sarah, I don't know what to say."

"It's okay, mostly. He's the father of my children, so obviously we've had some sex."

"How long has it been, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Believe it or not, no, I don't mind. It was when the kids were at my parents' place for the weekend about three months ago," she said. "I guess that's a long time."

"It would be, for some people," I answered.

She continued, "He usually won't do anything if the kids are home, even if they're sound asleep. Their rooms are upstairs, and we have motion-sensor nightlights all over the place for safety, just in case someone wanders. We would easily see the light under the bedroom door, and we would lock it anyway, but he doesn't think it's worth the risk."

I said, "To a degree, I see his point, but you two should be able to work around it. Give the kids a gold star or something if they stay upstairs, and then some reward when they earn enough."

Sarah shrugged. "The kids already stay upstairs. It's probably been three years since either one of them has gotten out of bed in the middle of the night, and that was only when we all had the flu. Tim's just not that into sex, I guess."

"You are?" I asked.

"Wow, pretty direct with the questions, there, Dr. Croswell!" she laughed.

"Too direct?"

"No, I guess not. If I actually dragged Tim to counseling or something, they'd probably ask the same thing. So, I guess the answer is yes. I do like sex. Or, at least, I think I do. Or would. I can't believe I'm saying this,..." she trailed off.

"I'm not sure I understand. Are you saying you think you should like sex, but you're not sure if you do?"

Sarah's phone rang. "It's Tim," she said.

Finished with dinner, I excused myself to give her privacy to talk. She was just hanging up when I came back to the table.

"Problem?" I asked.

"No, just an update from the home front. The kids are getting ready for bed, and Tim's going to watch one of his stupid war movies," she replied.

We sipped our drinks quietly for a minute. Then she said, "I'm going to try to answer your last question. I think I like sex, but I feel like I should enjoy it more. See, Tim's the only man I've ever been with. We saved ourselves for our wedding night."

"I see."

"Stop being so clinical, Doctor," she chuckled.

"I'm sorry. I'm just not used to learning this much from a work colleague. Okay, you gave each other your virginity on your honeymoon."

"Yes, we were both raised to wait, and we did. I guess that's good," she said.

"Well, sure, you shared, you expressed your emotional love physically, and you learned together how to bring each other pleasure," I said.

"See, that's the thing," she responded. "I'm not sure how much we've learned."

"What do you mean?"

"Do I have to say it out loud? All right, fine. I've never had an orgasm from sex. I've never had an orgasm with Tim in almost nineteen years of marriage. I've faked it every time."

"Sarah, some women have a lot of difficulty achieving a strictly vaginal-based orgasm. As long as he's satisfying you in some way,..."

"But he's not. That's another problem," she said.

"What about manual stimulation, or oral?" I asked.

"He spends a couple of seconds rubbing around down there, and then he's ready to go. Tim doesn't do oral. He says it's not clean, and that it's disgusting. I even tried to do it to him, since I've heard guys like it a lot. I thought maybe he wouldn't be so hung up about it if I did it first, but he pushed me away and wouldn't even kiss me for a couple of days."

"There must be something you two can do to make things better," I said. "How long has it been this way?"

"Tim said early-on in our marriage that he thought maybe sex wasn't exciting for him because he was afraid of an unwanted pregnancy. When we decided to start a family, I got pregnant right away. He was thrilled when I told him, but he wouldn't touch me until after our daughter was born. It was the same thing with our son."

"Do you think that's why you have so little sex now? Fear of getting you pregnant?"

"Hardly. We talked about it way back when we were in high school. We wanted two kids, period. When our son was born, we discussed it again, and I had my tubes tied. So no, that's definitely not it."

"So, there's no physical intimacy between you two?"

"We always hug and kiss when we get home, and we make it a point to give a kiss good-bye, even if we're just going to the convenience store down the street. He kisses me good-night, but it's pretty much the same kiss we give the kids. What's wrong with me? Am I that unattractive?" Sarah asked.

"You're very attractive, Sarah. A man would have to be blind to not see that.

"I wish that were his problem," she said. "I just think he doesn't like sex. I know he was raised to believe that sex is wrong unless it's for procreation."

"There were people in my generation who were raised that way," I said, "but I thought all that nonsense stopped with the Age of Aquarius, free love, and the whole 'If it feels good, do it' hedonism thing."

"Apparently not," she mused, "at least not in my house."

"I'm sorry. I don't know what to say," I replied.

"There's nothing TO say. Now, I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention this to anyone. The whole thing is pretty personal, you know."

"Of course. I would never reveal a secret told in confidence."

"I gather you like sex," she said.

"Well, yeah, I do," I answered. "It's not just the actual sex act, either – you know, penetration and orgasm. I like the whole intimacy thing, the foreplay, discovering ways to give and receive pleasure, and the after-play, if you will – the cuddling, the shower, whatever it is people do after sex. I enjoy all parts of making love with a woman."

"How do you make love to a woman?"

"Hmmm. I never had anyone ask me to lay it all out before. I guess it depends on whether we've been together before, or if it's going to be a new experience," I mused. "If she's a partner I've been with before, hopefully I already know what pleases her and what things she doesn't like. I build on that knowledge base."

"What if it's your first time with someone, or if the woman is inexperienced?" she asked.

"Inexperienced, as in she's a virgin? Or inexperienced, meaning she hasn't done all that much? I was with one virgin, way back in high school."

"Let's say she's not a virgin, but she's never had really satisfying sex," Sarah said.

I caught myself before I said, "I'll show you." Instead, I tried to make myself think in theoretical terms. Finally, I said, "I think I would start with something relatively benign, like holding her hand on a romantic walk, or over dinner or drinks."

"So, you're saying, the situation we're in right now could be the start of a seduction for you?"

"I guess."

"You mean, if you were holding my hand right now, it would mean we were headed for bed?"

"Not necessarily. Besides, you're a colleague, and you're married. I'm talking about a situation where both parties wanted sex, and were working their way up to it."

"How many women have you been with?"

"Hmm. I'd have to make a list, but I'd say around fifty."

"Fifty!" she exclaimed.

"Is this a research assignment? Do you want me to work on a list tonight?"

"Have you ever been with a married woman?"

"Yes, once," I admitted.

"What about the marriage vows? Didn't you feel like you were committing a sin?"

"I guess we were. She was separated from her husband and was in the process of a divorce, so maybe it could be argued that she wasn't really all that married any more. She initiated it, and we discussed the ramifications of adultery. By the time the subject came up, we were already naked, so we just did what we did."

Our conversation moved on to the discoveries we had made so far in poring over Owens' financial records.

Her phone rang. She greeted the caller, and then listened for a while, taking some quick notes. "Really?... Yeah.... You're kidding!... Oh, that slimy bastard!... Yes, send it all to me. I owe you. Talk to you later." She closed her phone again. "That was my contact. He turned up some very interesting information. Those consulting fees we saw? You know, the ones to parties we didn't recognize? The ones that happen on the first of every month?"

"Yeah?" I responded.

Her phone rang again. "Great," she grumbled. "Hi, Tim.... No, we're still working.... Uh huh.... Okay.... Well, I don't know.... I'm waiting for someone to send me some files.... I may just sleep on the couch in the office. You know I always keep an overnight bag and a change of clothes in the car.... Yeah, that way, I can keep working and still be at the plant early tomorrow.... All right.... Love you, too. Bye." She put her phone back in her purse.

"You were saying?" I prompted.

"Yes, the so-called consulting fees. One of them could be payment for services rendered and for ongoing silence. That money goes to an unlicensed abortion clinic."

"WHAT?"

"That's not all," Sarah said. "Another of those consulting fees gets laundered into a cash payment to a neighbor woman who has a six-year old son. She somehow got pregnant right after she moved in to her new house. The really shocking one, though, is to the parents of a girl who was fourteen when the payments started."

"Fourteen? Smiling Bill Owens has a child by a fourteen-year old girl?" I sputtered.

"It seems that way. I knew I didn't like the bastard," Sarah said.

"I didn't either, but I had no idea he was doing that kind of thing. How did you find all this out?"

"You probably don't want to know. Let's just say, if someone's skillful enough, or unscrupulous enough, they can hack into almost anything," she said.

I shook my head. "Owens, that greasy slime-ball! No wonder his wife wants to be done with him. But if this information was obtained in, shall we say, less than honorable ways, what are we going to do with it?"

"Not sure yet. Owens probably thinks he has his tracks well-covered," Sarah mused.

"Could be, but he's got to be nervous with us snooping around."

"What if we just don't talk to him for a day or two? Let him stew. We'll see if we can find a way to corroborate any of this through more legitimate channels," Sarah suggested.

"I did tell him I would call his secretary to schedule our next visit when you stormed off."

"Good. So, since we can't do anything until I get those files, let's have another drink," she said.

When our re-fills came, Sarah removed the clip from her hair and combed it out with her fingers. "Tell me what you do for foreplay with a woman," she said.

"It depends on the woman, of course, and what signals I'm getting from her. Usually, I like to be the one who gets her undressed. There are a lot of opportunities for teasing, touching, kissing, and just generally building sexual tension with that."

"Do you like your woman to undress you?"

"Sure. She has the same opportunities to help the build-up as I do."

"What do you do to the woman after you have her undressed?"

"I like to touch her, run my fingers all over her. Then I kiss her, starting on her mouth and working my way down."

"Do you perform oral sex on your women?"

"Yes. I love doing that, since most women seem to like having it done. Often, it's easier to bring a woman to multiple orgasms with my mouth than it is through genital-to-genital sex."




Sarah



"Do the women perform oral sex on you?" she asked.

"Sometimes. I leave that up to them. Some women don't like doing it, and that's fine."

"You don't mind if they don't?"

"No, not at all" I said. "Sex should be a great experience for both partners, an exchange of pleasure. Making a woman uncomfortable or asking her to do something she doesn't want to do is wrong."

"Do your women always have an orgasm?"

"Usually, most of them more than once. I feel like I would be cheating a woman if I got off and she didn't, so I do everything I can to bring her to climax." By this time, of course, I was wondering what it would be like to make Sarah cum and to have her return the favor.

"What types of things do you do to make a woman have an orgasm?"

"It depends on the signals I get from her. Some women can cum from careful attention to the breasts and nipples. Some will have an orgasm from finger penetration of the vagina or manual stimulation of the clitoris. Most will cum with oral sex. Some can climax during intercourse, but apparently not all, so I sometimes take a break in the middle of it to play them with my tongue some more."

"How do you know what your woman needs or wants?" she asked.

"Sometimes, I'll just ask. If I'm spending a lot of time on a woman's nipples and she doesn't seem to be getting more aroused, I'll start rubbing her clitoris, or her vaginal opening, or even her anus with a finger or two. If I get a big, positive reaction from that, I may move away from the breasts and focus on something else."

"Her anus?" Sarah asked in seeming amazement.

"For some, the anus is a very erogenous zone. It has a lot of nerve endings in it, and if you have the proper mindset, ass-play can be a big turn-on. Maybe you're not aware of it, but some women enjoy having their anus penetrated by a finger, tongue, toy, or penis."

"I've read about that, but I didn't think it was real," she said.

"Maybe Tim might like doing that to you," I offered.

"Are you kidding me? If he's barely willing to touch my vagina because he thinks it's disgusting, how do you think he'd react if I asked him to play with my ass?" she exclaimed.

"Just a suggestion. Look, Sarah, not all guys are as into sex as I am. They're content with just the occasional quickie."

"Yeah, apparently."

"And you're not," I said.

She sighed. "No, frankly, I'm not. I always thought sex would be exhilarating, exciting, and fulfilling. I thought it would bring us closer together. I assumed we'd figure out what we were doing and have a lot of fun with it. But I want a lot more than I'm getting."

"Okay, I'm going to ask you a question. I hope you won't get offended," I said.

"Go ahead."

"Do you masturbate?"

She blushed visibly. "Yes, I do sometimes. I always do after Tim and I have sex. I'm just starting to get warmed up when he's ready to roll over and go to sleep, so I learned to do it then just so I could fall asleep, too. Now, I do it sometimes when I go online. I found a website that I sometimes go to that has erotic stories. Often, they'll get me going."

"So you are getting some release, then," I said.

"Some. Not enough. Oh sure, I can make myself have an orgasm, but it just feels kind of empty. I feel like it would be so much better if a man would do things to me."

"Well, since you're being so honest, I'll tell you, I masturbate too, and you're right. It's much better with a partner. For me, it's a whole lot better if I can satisfy a partner while satisfying myself."

Sarah seemed very interested in stirring her drink, but finally, she looked up and said, "Don? Can I trust you?"

"After the things we've just shared, I would say you're pretty safe," I said.

Her hand reached across the table and laid on top of mine. She stroked it lightly with her fingertips, and then asked, "Will you help me?"

"Help you?"

"Yes, will you help me? Will you take me to your room and make love to me?" she asked.

"You're married."

"I don't want to cheat on my husband, but not getting any attention is driving me crazy. Maybe it was the whole thing with Owens today. I don't know, but somehow, that creep did manage to let me know that I'm still alive, that I'm not some dried up old prune of a married lady."

"Are you kidding me? You're a beautiful woman. When I first met you, I was surprised to see how young and pretty you look," I said.

"You don't have to flatter me," she said with an embarrassed smile. "I already asked you to take me to your room."

"Okay, but why, Sarah? What is it you really want?"

"I need to be appreciated, dammit! In all ways. Not just as a good mother, or a good home-maker or a good forensic accountant – I need to be appreciated as a woman. I'm coming up to my fortieth birthday a lot faster than I thought I would. Just once before it's too late, I'd like to know that a man enjoyed me, and I'd like to enjoy that man right back."

"Sarah, I don't know what to say."

She withdrew her hand and looked down. "Way to make a complete fool of yourself, Sarah Lynn Blevins," she mumbled.

"No, wait," I quickly said. "You didn't make a fool of yourself. You're a beautiful woman. I'd be thrilled to have you in my bed. I'm just a little surprised. Won't guilt rear its ugly head in the morning? Is this you talking, or is it the drinks?"

She sighed. "Sure, there will be some guilt. I think there would have to be something wrong with me if I didn't feel just a little bit guilty. But no, I'm not drunk. Just unappreciated. Besides, it's not like Tim will find out. He thinks I'm planning to sleep in my office. I've done that before. Pretty much the only way he'd find out would be if I got pregnant, and that's not going to happen."

"You don't think you'll find yourself needing to tell him?"

"And risk losing my kids? Not likely," she answered.

"Aren't you afraid of taking this step? Of looking outside your marriage to find physical love?"

"Of course! But after all these years, I think the only way I'm going to find physical love is to do exactly that – look outside the marriage. I feel like an old woman at home. This may be my last chance to break out of my shell"

"I don't want this to change things between us, Sarah," I said, taking her hand in mine again.

"I'm sure it will change things, and I don't care. I need to feel wanted and special. I need to know I'm normal. I need to find out if I can have an orgasm with a man. Don't worry. I'm not going to fall in love with you. I just want to make love with you."

"Okay," I said.

We finished our drinks and left the lounge. In the elevator, I pulled her to me and kissed her lightly on the lips. It was a gentle kiss, not a passionate one, but still, she gasped.

I put the key card in the lock and heard it open. Sarah was clinging to my free hand with both of hers. We walked into the room, and I turned on the light on the desk.

"Two queen sized beds?" she asked.

"That's what they had available."

She looked at the beds, clearly visible in the glow from the desk. "Do you want to have the light on?"

"Not if you don't," I said, turning back to the desk to switch off the lamp.

"No, leave it on. I don't mind, I guess. It's just that Tim always insists on having the lights off."

"Whatever you want. I can turn it off if that would be better."

"No, it's fine. It's just one more thing that's different from what I've done in the past. Maybe that's a good thing," she said as she took her jacket off.

"May I do that?" I asked.

"What?"

"Undress you."

"Do you want to?"

"Yes, unless that would make you uncomfortable."

"I've never had someone else undress me," she said.

"Have you ever undressed Tim?"

"No. We just get in bed in our night clothes and then take them off ourselves. We change in the bathroom separately. Tim thinks the naked human body is something others shouldn't see. He wouldn't even come into the delivery room when our kids were born."

I pulled her to me and kissed her. She seemed timid at first, but soon, we were kissing passionately, teasing each other with our tongues. My hands, which at first had been on her back, soon moved down to her high, firm buttocks. She moaned when I first began massaging them and pressed her crotch against mine.

Between tastes of her sweet mouth, I said, "Lift your arms."

"Hmmm?" she breathed.

"So I can get your top off," I murmured as I kissed her behind the ear.

She whimpered almost too softly for me to hear, but then stepped back slightly, lifting her arms over her head like a child needing help with a difficult garment. After I freed her hair from her sweater, I smoothed her tresses and cupped her face to kiss her again. The bare skin of her shoulders and chest was smooth and pale in the indirect light.

As our tongues played and explored, my hands were drawn to her lovely ass again. My touch was answered by stronger kisses from Sarah and firm pressure from her still-clothed mound against my growing hardness.                                         

We broke our kiss and moved apart slightly. "Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yes. I feel like I've already cheated, just kissing you and letting you take my sweater off. It doesn't matter. I want more."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Hurry, before I lose my nerve," she whispered, kissing me again.

It took two hands, but I was able to open her belt and her slacks and lower them without breaking our kiss. Her ass was hot to the touch, the feel of the lace edge of her silky bikini panties making her seem all the more sexy and innocent.

"Should I undress you?" she asked.

"Would you like to help?" I offered, bending down to help her step out of her slacks and shoes.

"Yes. Can you believe I've never done this? I helped my father with his shirts when he had his one hand in a cast when I was young, and my kids when they were little, but I've never done it when I was half naked myself."

I sat on the edge of the bed to take off my shoes and socks. "Come here, please," I said.

She sat next to me and folded her hands in her lap.

"If I wind up naked on this bed with you, I know what I'm going to want to do," I warned her.

"I hope so," Sarah blushed. She began opening the buttons on my shirt.

When it was off, she started working on my belt. In seconds, my slacks were on the floor. She looked at the obvious bulge in my briefs and then kissed me, even harder than before. When she pulled back, she said, "Don't question this again. I want to spend the night in this bed with you. I want you to help me make up for all the years I've missed."

We pulled the covers down. I lay on my back, and pulled her to lie partially on top of me. "I want you to enjoy this, but you're going to have to help. I want you to let me know what you like and what you don't. Okay?" I asked.

"Okay."

I brushed her hair aside and kissed her neck, softly, hoping to find a spot that would make her moan.

"Oh," she whispered. "What are you doing?"

"Making love to you." I caressed the strap of her lace-edged bra off her left shoulder and traced my finger over the slight crease it left in her soft skin. The right strap came down more easily, and I kissed her there. Her breath caught in her throat for an instant when I opened the fastener.

"My breasts are sensitive."

"In a good way?"

"I play with them when I masturbate," she said. "It makes me wet."

"That's good to know." I guided her over onto her back and lifted her bra off. She had lovely nipples, a nice size to play with, and they were getting harder as I watched.

The years have very kind to this woman. Her breasts had matured from cute teenager to hot young woman somewhere along the way, so that now, the best way to describe them was perfectly vine-ripened.

Her pale skin glowed in the light of the desk lamp. My hand crept across one proud breast. The nipple was firm on my palm as I kissed her. I felt myself lengthen and thicken more.

"Don," she shivered. "I feel you against my leg."

"Yes," I said, leaving her mouth and tasting her nipple for the first time. At that moment I smelled her warmth.

"You're making me wet."

"Good."

Her hand went down to touch herself.

"No, no, I'll get there," I said, licking my way over to her other breast.

"Don't take too long," she whimpered, turning her hand to stroke me through my shorts. "You're really hard."

"Uh huh." My hand moved past hers so I could trace a finger over the damp center of her panties.

She grasped my erection through my underwear, bending it up so the tip was out over the waistband. Her massage continued, her fingers running more and more urgently over the underside of my swollen shaft.

When I pulled the crotch of her damp panties aside and touched her wet flesh for the first time, she jolted visibly. More of her sweet smell wafted to my nose, and I knew I would be tasting her for the first time very soon.

"Take them off, Don. Please take them off," she gasped.

When I moved between her long, shapely legs, she lifted her hips slightly, letting me slide the sodden fabric off her. The obviously aroused, beautiful Mrs. Sarah Blevins lay naked in my bed.

I played with her soft short curls, probably the shade of honey-blond the hair on her head would be if the sun couldn't kiss it. Just to get her reaction, I ran my fingers over her damp slit and then slipped them into my mouth. She watched me with her pale blue eyes, the pupils dilated, her breathing rapid, almost as though she couldn't get enough air.

I kissed her sweet mouth again, listening to her moans as I made my way from her throat to her breasts. I enjoyed them for a while, and then kissed my way across her belly.

She spread her legs in anticipation. I lay on my elbows between them, fucking her with my eyes. Then I slid my tongue from her navel down into her hair, trimmed for modesty in a swim-suit. I stopped just short of her hood and looked up at her. She was propped up on her elbows to watch, her tongue moistening her soft lips.

"Go ahead," she whispered.

"Oh, I will," I answered, inhaling her aroma. She smelled sweet, ripe, and juicy. I wanted to savor this. I moved down and stretched my tongue to just tease the front edge of her pale little asshole, through the sparse, damp hair of her perineum, along the wetness of her slit, and up to her hood. She jumped, and her thigh muscles clenched, trying not to slam her knees together. I did it again, a little deeper this time. Another jump, with a whimper escaping around the knuckles she had stuffed in her mouth.

With my fingers, I eased her lips apart, revealing her pink juiciness and her winking hole. I made sure to keep eye contact with her this time, as I hardened my tongue and probed her. I licked upward again, bringing her sweet-tart creaminess with me. Her clit was starting to show itself, so I licked it thoroughly. Her answering jump was more violent, and the tremors in her long thigh muscles lasted a lot longer.

"Relax. Let me do this. We both want it," I murmured, reaching up to caress one fine breast.

"I'm trying to relax," she whined, her pretty lower lip caught between white teeth.

"Good," I said. Her labia were swollen now with want, the petals opening so I didn't need to hold them. I combed her soft, short curls between my fingers for a moment, and then slid my middle finger to her opening. "May I?" I asked.

She didn't answer – just nodded, still nibbling on her lip. God, she looked beautiful and sexy like that. I wish I had had a camera at that moment. I would carry a photo in my wallet of her honey-colored hair strewn on the pillow, her brow furrowed, the way she does when she's concentrating at work. The pupils of her baby blue eyes were large and deep, echoing the desire her pouting mouth showed. How any man could not want her the way I did was beyond me.

I slid my finger inside. She was warm, almost hot, and I could feel the same tension in these muscles that I had seen in her quivering thighs. It would be easy to make her cum.

Fingering her gently, I sucked and licked at her clit. Her moans turned to lower, more guttural gasps. She seemed to pump herself up with these, suddenly exploding into the music and movements of a strong orgasm. We held each other locked in place, her heels digging into my back and her thighs shielding my ears from her yell. I pulled her sex tight to my face, the fingers of my free hand dug into the firm flesh of her ass cheeks, licking her again and again, relishing both her flavor and her sounds.

I pulled my finger from her, and licked up her spilled nectar. That's when I heard her mutter, "You have to stop. You have to stop, please."

"Why?"

"I need you to hold me. My heart is racing," her shaky voice said.

I moved up and lay on my back again, pulling her against me. Her fists were clenched against my chest when I first kissed her, like a frightened child, but soon, she flattened her fingers against me and kissed me back like a satisfied woman. She seemed to relax as I stroked my hand lightly along her luscious ass cheeks.

Eventually, she breathed, "Your face is wet. I'm tasting myself on you. That was better than any ten of the orgasms I give myself combined."

"I thought you might like oral sex," I said, kissing her gently again.

"You were right. I'm going to want to do that again."

"Good," I said. "I liked doing it."

"I want to do that for you," she said, playing with the sparse, graying hair on my chest. Propping herself up on one elbow, she said, "Lift your hips so I can get your underwear off.

She pulled them down, revealing my manhood. It stood proud, happy to be in the fresh air. She just looked at it for a minute, her brow furrowing slightly again, and then pulled my shorts off the rest of the way and tossed them on the floor.

"I feel silly. Some of the people I went to high school with are going to be grandparents soon, and I've never sucked a cock."

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

"I do want to," she said quickly, wrapping her fingers around the base. "I've read about it enough online, and a lot of the women sound like they enjoy it, and the guys always do. After what you did for me, I have to try to make you feel good."

Even at my advancing age, those words made me leak. It's not every day that a man close to being able to apply for social security has a woman young enough to be his daughter ready to suck his cock. Especially when the woman doesn't look a day over thirty.

"Why don't you come over here while you think about it," I said, caressing her one thigh.

"Hmmm?" she murmured, now stroking my cock gently with her hand, her face close to it.

"Come over here," I repeated. "Put that pretty pussy of yours on my mouth."

"What? Oh. OH!" she smiled, flushing with excitement. "You want to lick me again? You wanna do a sixty-nine?"

"If you do."

She answered by climbing on top of me, straddling my head with her lovely legs. "I'm not sure where you want me," she said.

We figured it out pretty quickly. Again, Sarah clenched her muscles when my tongue touched her. Her sweet musk was stronger now, the flesh hotter. I was just thinking about how it was going to feel to push myself inside her when she first licked me.

"Mmmm," she said. "I think I might like this."

I couldn't say anything to answer her. I was busy with her weeping pussy, but when she first took me into her mouth, I know I leaked.

Somehow, I kept my focus on her lovely womanhood, until she hissed, "If you keep doing that, I won't be able to do this right."

"That's okay," I groaned, feeling her slowly bobbing her head up and down on me. "You're doing fine."

When I teased her with my tongue, licking everywhere but her button, she stroked my shaft and suckled my head with her lips. When I hardened my tongue and probed at her opening, she took as much of me in her mouth as she could, moaning and bobbing up and down. When I eased two fingers inside her and flicked my tongue quickly around her clit, she lost her rhythm completely.




Sarah



"I'm going to cum again," she whined. "Oh no, I'm going to cum again!"

I worked my fingers inside her, massaging the ridgy sponge inside, while my lips clamped onto her swollen nub.

Sarah forgot about my cock completely, losing herself in a long, vigorous orgasm. I kept massaging her with my fingers, licking and sucking up her fluid. She dropped her head to rest it on my thigh, whimpering as she came. Finally, she gasped, "Don, please!"

"What?"

"Let me catch my breath," she panted. "I have to take a break."

She turned and snuggled in my arms, her head on my chest, lightly fondling my cock. "All this time I could have been having that," she mused. "Is it always that good? Are you some kind of trained expert, or am I just sensitive?"

"Trained?" I chuckled. "No, I've just been practicing for over forty years. You know what they say. 'Find something you like, and try to do it well'."

"What's happening to me? I'm never like this!"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know what I mean, passionate, maybe. Good, anyway," she said, kissing me like she was ready to start all over again. "I think I really want to finish what I started with you, but not right now. Right now, I just need you inside me."

"Sounds like Sarah Blevins is coming out of her shell."

"I think so. I've never said anything like this before, but I'll say it now. I want you to fuck me."

I rolled her on her back and started devouring her lovely breasts again.

"Don, please! I've never wanted a man inside me like I do right now!"

We kissed hungrily. When I pulled away, her nails glided across my back. I teased her opening with my cock, rubbing along it, nudging my head a fraction of an inch inside her. She rewarded me with new wetness to mix with my pre-cum.

My pulse throbbed in my hand as I aimed. Pushing just a little, I felt her swollen lips part enough to admit my crown. I stopped there, feeling her hot wetness squeezing me, wondering if I now felt her pulse or mine.

"I need this," she sighed. "I don't even care if I don't cum with you inside me. I just want you to."

I pushed in another inch. She gasped.

Another inch. I was with women in college who weren't as tight.

"I can't wait," Sarah moaned. She enveloped me with all four limbs, crushing her mouth to mine, and taking me to the root. "Oooooh," she sighed. "It's been way too long."

I kissed her as I withdrew about half way and then allowed myself to sink into her again.

"I need this, Don," she whispered in my ear.

I eased in and out of her slowly, allowing both of us to savor the sensations of tight, wet pussy and steel-hard cock. Soon, her legs began urging me to go faster. I did, and she started to moan. Moving her hips, she met my rhythm, pulling with her legs to get me to go deeper.

"Oh my God, I think I could cum from this!" she breathed.

"Think you could, or know you will?"

"I never cum during sex."

"Let's see if we can change that tonight," I said.

I made a few parting thrusts, and then pulled out, moving down to feast on her breasts again.

"Why did you stop?" she whined.

"I wanted to lick you one more time before I came in you, babe," I replied. "Would you like that?"

"Oh God, I don't care what you do to me! Everything just feels so good. So much better than anything I've felt before."

I sat on my haunches between her legs, lifted them and put them on my shoulders, and grabbed her firm buttocks. Her tight little hole was shrinking, but was still open enough to drool down the crack of her ass. I lifted her to my mouth and plunged my tongue as far into her as I could get. I fucked her with it, stopping periodically to lick up the fluids that leaked down toward her little pucker or to suck on her engorged clit.

"Ohhhh!" she groaned. "You're going to make me cum again. Oh, oh, oh, oh dear God, OH!"

Then she began to twitch. Her legs bore down on my shoulders, her hips thrust against my face, her juices flowed, and her fists clenched the sheets. She opened her mouth like she was going to scream, but held her breath.

When it was over, I lowered her down so she could rest her shoulders. She lay there, sweaty and beautiful, her legs sprawled on mine, her pussy wantonly exposed only a few inches from my straining cock.

She opened her eyes. "I'm weak. I've never been weak from sex before."

"You liked that, huh?"

"Yeah," she giggled. "I didn't know Dr. Croswell was a sex therapist."

"I'm not. I just enjoy making a beautiful woman cum."

"Well, that's good," she laughed. Then she looked at us. Her line of sight was over her still-hard nipples, down her trim belly, through her damp honey curls, to my cock. "I've never used these words, Don, but I want you to fuck me again and fill my pussy with cum."

I helped her push some pillows under her shoulders to raise her, and then lifted her ass onto my thighs again.

"Oh, Don," Sarah breathed as pushed into her.

I leaned down and kissed her. "Watch," I said.

I straightened up and eased out, until only my crown was still inside her. Her moisture glistened on my shaft. I pushed back inside, and we watched her swollen outer labia pucker around me. I pulled back, and her lips followed, trying to keep me in place.

"You're hitting me in just the right spot."

"Good. You can watch me do this, too," I said, playing with the tender skin around her clit.

She whimpered.

"And this." I bent down and took one of her nipples into my mouth.

"Go faster," she whispered.

I straightened up again and began to stroke her purposefully, deep, not hard enough for skin to slap, but hard enough to let her know she was getting fucked. Her breasts moved beautifully until she grabbed her own nipples.

"I want you to cum inside me."

"I will."

"When?"

"Pretty soon."

"I want to watch you," Sarah said. "I want to feel it inside me and watch you while you do it."

I thrust one last time. Then my rhythm was done. Twitching, spasming, grunting, I emptied myself into her. With each spurt, her pussy tightened on me, milking my orgasm for her own.

She smiled weakly up at me. She was drenched in sweat, her hair was matted and tangled, and my semen was leaking out of her.

I lay down next to her, and she cuddled against me. "So that's what it's supposed to feel like? Every time?" she asked.

"I don't know. Every time should be good. I can't imagine it being much better than that," I panted.

We lay there for a while, the soft hush of the ventilation system now louder than our relaxed breathing. The curve of her ass felt good in my hand, the skin soft to my touch.

"Don?" she murmured.

"Hmm?"

"Am I a bad person?"

Shit! Exactly what I was afraid of. "No, Sarah. You're not."

"I didn't think so. That was too good to have been bad. I guess it was wrong, but I can deal with that. If things were different in my life, I would like to feel like this a lot more."

"People can change, babe."

"Yes, they can. I want you to change me some more."

"What about guilt?"

"Screw guilt. This is the right thing for me, for me as a woman," she said, burrowing her head into my shoulder again. "When you leave, I'll have some great memories."

"Maybe you can change Tim," I said.

She chuckled. "No, he's too different from you. Tim's fine the way he is. He's happy, I think. The kids are happy. He's a good father and the best husband he knows how to be. I love my job. I can find enough pleasure from those things, now that I know that sex can be as much fun as people say it is."

"There's a seminar coming up that I think you should attend."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, next month. It's basically a long weekend."

"I have personal days coming. I could probably add a Friday and a Monday."

"What about Tim and the kids?"

"Tim's likes to go deer hunting, so I hold down the fort in the fall. The payback is a long getaway weekend or two for me. What's the seminar about? Where is it?"

"It's called, 'Feeling like a sexual being.' It's taught by Dr. Croswell," I said.

"Sign me up!" she laughed. "After I get a shower. I'm messy."

I touched her pretty lips again, the hair sticky with our cum. "I'll help you get cleaned up. Get used to it. The seminar is at my cabin. I have a shower stall and a jacuzzi. I don't use soap or body wash in my jacuzzi."

"You want to shower with me?" she asked.

"If I may."

"Wow," she mused. "I've never done that – showered with someone."

"Would you like to?"

"Why not? I've done enough other things tonight I never thought I'd do. But I don't have a bathrobe."

"Why do you need a robe?" I asked. "It's warm enough in here, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but I should wear something."

"Why? I've seen you, now, Sarah. I've made love to you."

"Hmmm. Yes. You're right. This changes things between us. I knew it would," she said, turning on the bedside lamp. She propped herself up on the headboard, her breasts displayed proudly, and ran her finger along the top of my dick. My pubic hair was damp with sweat and a mixture of our juices. "I can't believe I had that in my mouth."

"Are you sorry you did?" I asked.

"No. No, not sorry I did. That's what I mean. This changes things. The only thing I'm sorry about is that you didn't cum."

"I did, sweetie. I think I filled you up pretty well. See?" I ran my middle finger over her slit. It came away wet.

She looked at it, and then at me. She touched my wrist, and guided my finger closer to her. Then she licked it, and sucked it into her mouth. When the finger was clean, she released it and smiled at me. "That was you I tasted, wasn't it?"

"Some of it, yeah."

"Will you wash me?" she asked.

Sarah's ass felt every bit as good as it looked. Smooth, firm, carried high on those fabulous legs. I turned her to face away from me in the shower so I could wash it. I lathered my hands with the hotel bar soap, and caressed her cheeks, rubbing them, kneading the flesh. Finally, I had to. I pushed my middle finger into the cleft of her ass, stroking the skin just above her pucker.

"What are you doing?" she moaned.

"Washing you."

"Oh. Okay. Please. Go on."

I did. Teasing her with both hands, I worked at her. I had two fingers of my right hand in her ass, and two of my left in her pussy when she came this time. I washed her again to clean away her juices, and then kissed my way up her body to her face.

"My God, Don," she gasped into my mouth as I kissed her.

"I think you liked my fingers in your ass."

"I can't believe it, but yes, I did." We kissed deeply again, and her hand found my erection. "There was something else I liked."

"What was that?"

"This," she said, as she knelt in front of me.

I turned the shower off so I could watch.

She draped her wet hair behind her ears, took my cock in her hand, and smiled up at me. "This," she said again, before opening her mouth and taking me inside. She bobbed back and forth on me, not taking all that much, but it was enough. With one hand, she jacked me, taking care of the part her mouth couldn't reach.

Finally, she came up for air. "Is that okay?" she asked, fixing her wet hair again with one hand while fondling my balls with the other.

"You've never done this before?" I asked.

"No. I guess I read more porn than I thought," she grinned, running her tongue up and down my shaft.

"You're very good at it."

"I like being able to use some of what I've learned through my reading," she chuckled. She took me in her mouth again, looking at me the whole time with those baby blue eyes. She grasped me firmly in one hand, and flicked her tongue rapidly on the very tip of my cock. "Will this make you cum?"

"Probably," I panted.

"Or do you like this?" she asked, resuming her efforts to bathe every bit of my manhood at once with her tongue. "Or this?" going back to bobbing back and forth on me.

"I'm gonna cum soon," I moaned.

"Look at me when you do," she said, jacking me and tongue lashing me again.

I tired to keep my hips from thrusting. The first surge of my spunk bathed her tongue, soon to be joined by more. She took as much as she could, then pulled back and watched as one more small drop spattered on her very hard right nipple. She looked back up at me, gave me a cummy smile, and then swallowed.

"I did it. I gave a blowjob. I just gave a man a blowjob in his hotel shower and swallowed his cum. Wow," she mused.

I helped her to her feet and lathered her breasts again. She was very quiet as we rinsed off. "You're not saying much," I observed.

"No. Just thinking about how wonderful this is. Kinda mad I can't get this all the time," she said, reaching for a towel.

"You're staying here tonight, aren't you? You said you have a change of clothes in your van?"

"Yes, but I have to get dressed to go out and get it. I have a bag with a nightgown."

"You don't need a night gown," I said, turning down the covers on the unused bed. I was amazed to feel myself thickening again.

It seemed difficult for her at first, but soon Sarah acted comfortable enough spooned naked against me. My cock was nestled between her cheeks, and her hand was lazily stroking mine that was cupping her breast. Both the stroking and her breathing soon slowed, and then I knew she was asleep. I joined her.

We felt each other move during the night. When I rolled on my back, she cradled her head on my shoulder or my chest. If I turned away from her, I would feel her move to cuddle with me, and then we would both be still again.

I woke up to feel a soft hand gently rubbing my cock. It was already pretty wide awake.

"Good morning," she said.

"Good morning. What are you doing?"

"Playing with you. I wanted to see how hard you would get before you woke up," she snickered.

"Is this part of coming out of your shell?"

"Shell? Oh, that? You pretty much shattered that last evening. My inner slut woke up during the night to feel your erection poking my ass, and she got up and swept away the last of the bits of shell that were lying around. So, what should we do about the state you're in?" she asked, still slowly stroking me.

"Well, I sure can't go to work like this."

"No, you can't. Any more than I can go to work thinking about what should have been done about it," she said. "I want it inside me again."

I pulled her to me, helping her to straddle me, and wiped my leaking cock against her already wet pussy. "Lower yourself. Aim it, and lower yourself."

"Oh, that's nice. I like that," Sarah whispered as she took me inside. She was careful and slow, so it took her awhile to set her full weight down on me. "You're deep. Real deep. I didn't know it could go that deep."

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah! Yes. Just not used to it. Getting there though. Wow," she muttered.

I pressed up into her, probably not penetrating her further, but feeling damn good.

"Do all women like this? Riding cowgirl, right?"

"Yes, riding cowgirl. I don't know about all women. Some do."

She eased herself about halfway up my shaft, and then slid down again. She did it again, moving her hips forward and back as she went. "Mmmm," she said. "I think I do."

I pulled her to me so I could kiss her breasts again. She began to rock on my rigid shaft, fucking herself with it as I licked and sucked her nipples.

"Can we do it really hard without hurting me? I always wondered what that was like," she said.

"You're in the saddle, cowgirl."

"That's right. I am!" she giggled. She straightened up again, lifted herself nearly off me, and let herself down quickly. "Oof!" she said. She did it again, this time with my hands dug into her firm ass to help her. "Oh!" She did it more, speeding up and dropping harder, until the smack of our sweaty skin was probably loud enough to hear in the hallway.

"So good!" she whimpered.

I grabbed her and pulled her down on top of me. She kissed me as I fucked her, using my grip on her amazing ass to help me drive into her. She fucked me back just as hard.

"I want you to cum inside me again," Sarah gasped. "I want to feel you cum inside me."

I could tell she was on the brink. Good, because I wasn't far behind.

She pumped up and down on me hard a few more times, and then shoved herself down farther than she had before. Grinding, squealing, clenching her internal muscles with her orgasm, she made me erupt.

When she collapsed onto me, I held her, one or the other of us occasionally shuddering with the aftershocks of our shared cumming.

Finally, she propped herself up to look at me. "Yeah, Don, this definitely changes things. It's probably good you live so far away, though. This could get complicated."

"What do you mean?"

She kissed me again, rubbing her naked breasts over my chest. "I'd want to start every day like this, and spend every night like I spent the last one."

We showered together again, but I got out first. After dressing quickly, I went out to her van for her fresh clothes. It was difficult watching her get dressed again. It had felt so natural, so deliciously correct, seeing her nude.

Over breakfast, we made our plans. We weren't going to Owens' plant that day. There was some leg-work to be done following up on the leads Sarah's contact had given her the previous night. We were back at my hotel by late afternoon.

What was supposed to be a "business meeting" quickly turned into another love-making session, with Sarah practicing her oral skills and enjoying mine. We agreed to meet for breakfast again the following morning.

Early Thursday morning my phone rang.

"Are you dressed yet?"

"No, I just got out of the shower. I thought I'd have about twenty minutes until you got here."

"More like thirty. I'm picking up breakfast and bringing it there. Don't bother getting dressed," she said.

Nibbling on bagels and fruit, naked in bed with me, Sarah asked, "You're going home tomorrow aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm taking a late flight out tomorrow evening."

Sarah said nothing for a while. Then, "A big part of me doesn't want this week to end."

"Me either," I said.

"You know I'm going to stay here and go back to my prim and proper life," she said.

"I thought that was the plan all along."

"It was," she answered quickly. "I love my kids, my house, and my career. I love my life. I even love Tim, but for much different reasons than I would have if I let myself fall in love with you."

"I don't know that you want to do that. I'm not a home-wrecker, and besides, I'm not sure I'm the marrying kind. At my age, old habits die hard."

"Can I still care about you?" she asked.

"You can. I wish you would. I'd hate this to be all one-sided, baby."

"When is your seminar?"

"Whenever you want. Just give me a little notice so I can take the time off work," I answered.

"Show me more of what you would teach me there."

I rolled her on her back. "Okay," I said as I took her nipple in my mouth.

We managed to get some work done Thursday afternoon, enough that I knew I could easily pull my report together over the weekend, and go back to my regular work on Monday.

Sarah went home to make dinner for Tim and the kids, and I did some work at the desk in my room. Late that evening, I was reading the news online when Sarah's screen-name (SBmomof2 – "Sarah Blevins mom of 2") appeared as a chat request. We had given each other our instant message addresses so we could pass information back and forth when we weren't physically in the same room this week, and we had decided it would be a good way for us to keep in touch.

SBmomof2: r u there

NosyDon51: hi

SBmomof2: what r u doing

NosyDon51: not much

working

what about u

SBmomof2: reading dirty stories

NosyDon51: lol hows that working out 4 u

SBmomof2: not well

my fingers dont feel as good as yours

NosyDon51: not as good as my tongue either




Sarah



SBmomof2: ur not helping

NosyDon51: wanna go parking in ur van

SBmomof2: embarrassed to say what i want to do

NosyDon51: what

A pop-up appeared. "SBmomof2 wants to open video chat window. Click to accept."

I clicked, and after a moment, Sarah appeared on my screen. "Don't talk loud. I don't know how high I have to turn the volume.

"Okay," I whispered. "How's that?"

"You can talk. Just keep it down."

"Like this?" I asked in a tone I would have used if she were on the next pillow.

"Just like that," she said. "That's nice."

"Is everyone else asleep?"

"Oh heavens, yes," Sarah answered. "I'm in my half of the home office, on the other side of the house from our bedroom, and I can still hear Tim snoring.

"We can video-chat from work, you know. In fact, that's probably a pretty good idea for when I want to consult with you about something or if I can offer you any business."

Even in the dim lighting in Sarah's study, I could see her pretty face blush. "I wasn't exactly thinking of video-conferencing with you, silly."

"What were you thinking of?" I asked.

As she opened her robe, she said, "Pull your pants down, Don." Conservative Mrs. Blevins put on quite a show for me that night, and she saw how much I appreciated it.

We decided to go to see Owens one last time before I left on Friday, to make sure we hadn't missed anything. He was his usual overly-cheery self when we got there, but came storming into the conference room just before lunch.

"What the hell are you people doing?" he bellowed. "You talked to my neighbor?"

Sarah calmly got up from her chair, walked over to him, and got in his face. "Not only did we talk to your neighbor, you miserable scum, we visited that illegal back-alley abortion clinic you help to finance, and met the parents of your little playmate. Well, let me tell you, sleazy Mr. Bill Owens, for your sake, you'd better hope you can still afford to make all those payments when your wife's attorney is done with you. I don't know how you see the money you're spending, but those people see it as hush money."

I stood up too, gathering my belongings, since it was time to leave. "I'm no lawyer, but I imagine you could have some liability for any injuries caused by the quacks in that clinic. You might want to think about what your criminal culpability is there. Oh, and I assume you know that the statute of limitations on what you did to that little girl is twelve years in this state, and they don't start counting until the victim turns eighteen. By that time, the son you fathered would be sixteen years old – big enough to give you the ass-kicking you deserve."

"Get out!" Owens yelled. "Get out now! I will not stand for this invasion of my privacy! You have no damn right to treat me this way!"

Sarah packed up her materials. "We have every damn right to treat you this way, Mr. Owens. Every damn right in the world. But don't worry. We're leaving. I'm feeling a little ill just being around you!"

In the car on the way back to my hotel, Sarah asked, "When do you have to catch your plane?"

"I should be at the airport by six."

"Six, huh? You didn't check out of your hotel, did you?"

"Not yet. I wanted to be able to go back and change into more casual clothes before I had to leave."

"So you'll be naked at some point?" she asked.

"Maybe."

"I'm going to call Tim and tell him I'll be getting home a little late."

In my room, it was very much like out first time. We undressed each other again, taking our time, making it last. When we were finally nude, we got in bed. Sarah lay on top of me, kissing me as I fondled her wonderful ass.

"How many times can you cum before you have to leave for the airport?" she asked.

"Baby, I'm not a young man. I don't know. Twice if I'm lucky," I answered.

She rolled off me, turned around, and positioned her wet sex over my face. Just before she took me in her mouth, she said, "I hope you're feeling lucky."

This time, when she knew she was about to cum, she pulled out of my reach. "Not yet. You're not gonna make me cum yet. When that happens, I forget about what I was trying to do for you." She knelt at my side and kissed me, hard, and passionately. "Don't move." She kissed all over my face, rubbing her one nipple against mine while teasing the underside my shaft with just the pad of her index finger.

"What are you doing?" I gasped.

"I never saw a man cum before last night. Now I want to see it in person, so just lie there and enjoy."

She kept stroking me with the single finger, occasionally leaning over and licking up the pre-cum I was leaking.

I reached for her hip, hoping she would move so I could reach her. Instead, she moved away.

"Nope," she said. "Not this time. This time, you're gonna cum for me."

The build-up was maddeningly slow. This wasn't a hand-job. It was a finger-job, and a single finger at that. Over and over she stroked, the tiniest bit of her skin against mine. When she concentrated her feather-light touch on the patch of nerves just below my piss-slit, I leaked pre-cum, a dribble of it lubricating her finger. She would only interrupt her slow stroking to lick me – a quick spreading of my fluid.

I was shuddering by now. Hands had played with me many times (hands other than my own), but I had never felt anything quite like this. Leave it to meticulous Sarah to do this to me this way. "I'm gonna cum soon, baby," I said.

"From this?" she smirked, her baby blue eyes sparkling as her finger continued it's slow, deliberate rhythm, "or this?" She bent down and took a quick lick along the underside of my shaft, from the base to the head, circling the crown once before pulling back and resuming her stroking.

"Everything. You," I moaned.

"Is it going to be a lot?" she teased, still tickling that little triangle of ecstasy.

"Yeah," I groaned, as the first spurt arced into the air. Stream after stream rocketed out of me, volume and height like I hadn't seen in decades. When I was done, I realized that Sarah was still stroking me with just that single, now messy, fingertip.

"Wow!" she laughed. "That was impressive!" She licked her finger. "I still can't believe we're doing this!"

My shrinking cock leaked one more small drop. She leaned down and licked it off, and then very methodically cleaned my entire manhood and belly of my spilled cum.

When she was done, she sat back on her heels, smiled at me, and blushed visibly. "What have you done to me, Don?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Here I was, the conservative housewife/career woman, about as virginal as an almost middle-aged mother of two could be, and now I'm some kind of cum-slut!" she giggled.

"I'm sorry, baby."

"For what?" she asked, lying down next to me. "For showing me a new side to myself? I've always wondered what good sex was, since I knew I wasn't having it. Now I know. I'd love to do it all the time. It's just like when I tried water-skiing."

"Water-skiing?" I laughed.

"Stop it," she said, sitting up in bed. She had her hands on her hips, which put her proud breasts on display. There was a serious expression on her mouth, but her baby blue eyes were twinkling. "I'm trying to make a point. It was a dangerous new thrill, something I'd never done before, and something I wanted to do again. Plus, it made me all wet."

"Ah. Speaking of making you wet," I said as I pulled her on top of me and moved her to sit on my face.

"I'll play with myself after you're gone, thinking about what you do down there," she moaned.

"I think I like this as much as you do, baby," I said.

We rested for a while after that, cuddling, the way she had learned to love to do. Our pillow talk brought us to the "seminar" I had mentioned.

"How much notice do you need to get time off from work?" Sarah asked.

"My boss, Marian, wants two weeks minimum, but often, it's more like three, depending on my case load."

"Could we start the seminar four weeks from today?" she asked. "I had been talking to Tim about taking my 'hunter's widow' reward weekend soon."

"I'll confirm your enrollment on Monday when I've had a chance to look at the due dates on the stuff that's probably on my desk."

She snuggled against me. "What time is it?"

"Almost three. I have to be out of here in about two hours."

"Should give us enough time," she said, moving to straddle me so that her pussy lips were against my soft cock.

As she ground against me, she asked, "What will we do at the cabin? Besides make love, I mean."

"Well, we can go walking in the woods, toast marshmallows in the fire pit outside, and go swimming in the lake. It's very clean, and by that time of year it will be nice and warm."

"I guess I should get a new swimsuit," she said.

"Why? I don't even own one. It's my lake. I own the land around it. No one goes there."

"Skinny dipping?" Sarah laughed. "I've never done that."

"The new Sarah is ready for skinny dipping," I said.

"The new Sarah is ready for one last session before you have to leave, Don."

As it turned out, I was ready, too. I was tired – I had worked hard this week, and had enjoyed a lot of sex for a man my age. But Sarah brought out the best in me. We started out slow this time, but we didn't end that way.

We didn't say much while we were getting dressed, or even as we walked to our cars after I checked out of the hotel. I loaded the Mercedes in silence, and then we embraced one last time.

Just before she got in her minivan to drive home, she said, "This may have been the best week I've had in a long while."

"We'll have the best weekend ever, next month," I said, leaning in her window to kiss her farewell.

At the rental car return desk, the fake-cheery young lady asked, "Did you enjoy your stay, sir?"

"It was very good, thank you."

"Was it business or pleasure?" she chirped.

The girl gave me a strange look when I chuckled and said, "Both."



Sarah



I saw her everywhere. The little space at the base of her chin, where face becomes neck, the soft curve of her skin glowing in the gentle moonlight of a quiet evening. Maybe someone would have her eyes, that same distinct brown like the golden amber of a well aged liquor. There were pieces of her in ever face that I looked upon, she was in my world completely, and yet absent from it as well. 

Love at first sight had always seemed so cliché, just one of those things that you read about or saw in movies. Lust at first sight, now there was a reality. Men have always been creatures of habit and desire, driven by baser needs that reached out of them from a much more primal place. A man sees a woman, notices the shape of her body, the rise and fall of her breasts with each breath that she takes, and it takes no more than this for him to want her. To lust for her. There is no secret behind it, only science. She has the physical attributes that appeal to him and as such it takes only a look to experience that desire that is often times confused for a more complex emotion. 

And I have to be honest, here, and say that when I first saw her there was such an overpowering feeling of love that I mistook it for lust, which is contrary to my normal male nature. There was something powerful about it, something that shifted inside me in a way that I'd never experienced before, as if there was suddenly this magnetic force between us that was pulling me in her direction. It was natural and pure, two beings that had been kept apart until then, finally brought together through a series of random moments, and cursed with a love so magnificent it could not be ignored. 

There were so many things about her to notice. She was a woman in all the ways that most women strive to be, the curves of her voluptuous and full to the point of seeming almost unreal. She had a body that took clothes that would look ordinary on any other woman and made them undeniably sexy, the nominal dip in her blouse still showing enough of her silken bosom to draw the eyes of anyone who glanced at her. Her legs stuck out from beneath a skirt dangerously close to being short, but still humble enough to seem appropriate, her skin creamy and white, but in a way that did not seem to lack color, as if a tan would only ruin the purity of how long and perfectly shaped they were. It took me a moment though to get to all of that, because before I could ever notice that Marilyn Monroe like physique I had to make it past her eyes, and that in itself was nearly impossible. 

She looked at me over the rim of a wine glass, and our eyes met, if two world colliding into one another can be considered meeting, and she smiled. It was hard to tell if she was smiling with me, or at me, because for reasons that to this day I cannot explain just gazing into her eyes brought a near idiotic grin to my face. It would have made sense for her to be amused with me, but for her to be sharing that moment, to be experiencing the same level of strange emotion, excitement mixed with fear and passion. But she didn't look away from me, she didn't even blink, and for some reason I just knew, then and there, that I was completely and irrevocably in love with this woman. It was not lust, it was pure and unashamed love. 

Those eyes, like two sunflowers of twinkling mischief and desire, there was simply no finding your way back once lost in eyes like those. She crossed the room to me, not waiting for the customary moment of having a man approach her first. Clinking her wine glass against my own and taking a slow sip, never looking away. 

We sat down and our stories became one, all of her secrets and experiences seemingly my own. Her stories could have included me, my arms wrapped around her waist and her head laid back against my shoulder at every family picnic and beachside bonfire. It was strange, meeting someone totally new that immediately felt so completely familiar. 

It was a wine tasting at a public park, hosted by the same business association to which we both had connections and as such could not immediately flee from so that we could escape to a more personal venue. The evening ended with an old Fred Astaire movie, him dancing across the black and white screen wearing his trade mark tuxedo. I want to say something clever about hot men used to dress with such style, but instead I just wrest my hand against the small of her back, her shirt has pulled up just enough for me to feel the warm skin there. My fingers trace small circles around the base of her spine, brushing against the place where her skirt ends. 

She turns towards me and I expect to see a look of disapproving shock on her face, but before I can even feel guilty for letting my hand stray so farm south she nuzzles herself up against my neck and takes my ear gently between her teeth. Warm moist breath caresses my face like fingers and goose bumps jump out across my skin. I mutter something, something that should be words, but instead just comes out like a stuttering sigh of pleasure. She smiles up at me, and I smile back down at her, and her laughter dances along like the notes of the music. 

And when she leaves me that evening I can still hear it in the sound of my stereo, the music of her laughter drifting in and out until the actual song becomes lost in it. She promises me that she will be back.

She has to visit her mother for a couple of days and she will return, and we will pick things up where we left off. There is something about delayed gratification that can drive a man crazy. Along with those more primal desires comes the need for instant satisfaction. For forty eight hours she is there, in every woman's face, in every perfectly sculpted curve, even the sound of her in every song I hear sung. When I close my eyes she is there. 

It's not the desire for sex that drives me, it's the idea that when our bodies come together there will be this kind of magical connection of my energy to her own. I don't think I've ever had sex with a woman who I loved first, or if I have ever even truly loved a woman for that matter. This borderline obsession that I am experiencing now has to be the real thing, and considering that it is clear to me that everything I have experienced up to this point was only a mild version of the true thing. 

I light candles, open champagne, I even hand dip strawberries in chocolate and lay them out in a straight line on a small crystal dish. I do all of the things that I expect a woman would anticipate a man doing for her to get her in the mood for sex. And when her headlights appear outside the front of my home just after midnight I have an instant surge of terror. What if she has changed her mind, what if this all seems like some pretentious attempt at getting her to have sex with me. Maybe she will walk in, see the candles and turn around, hoping that the insane stalker who assumed she was going to put out after only a couple of hours together will forget that they ever met. 

There is no knock at the door, it just opens, and she walks inside without asking for permission. She drops her purse on the floor, and her hands disappear behind her, reappearing with a thin strap, which she gives a gentle pull. Her body opens to me like an unwrapped gift from the gods, the dress falling softly to the floor at her feet. What I had known was an ample bosom takes my breath away once exposed, her breasts settling quickly into place with a single sexual jiggle. She wears nothing but a pair of thin shorts, the hourglass shape of her rising and falling with each step she takes as she turns and moves down the hallway towards my bedroom. She does not need me to tell her where it is, she simply drags fingers along the wall as she disappears into the shadowy orange glow of the candles flickering behind the doorway. 

I have no nervousness or apprehension, no worries about what is to come or how our bodies will find each other for their first meeting. I step up behind her and she turns into my arms, her hands deftly unbuckling and slipping out my belt, tossing it aside so that she can slide my shirt over my head. Once naked there is none of the standard shame that most people feel the first time a stranger sees them in all of their nude glory. Her hands explore me, fingertips drifting along my belly button and down to my thighs, there is no waiting for me to become rigid with anticipation, but as she drifts dangerously close to me she pulls away and lies back on my bed. This woman, this creature of absolute brilliance and gorgeous magnificence, is lying on my bed, looking up at me, beckoning me to her. My skin meets her skin, and we are one person. Her breasts fit in my hands as if they were made for me, and she seems to be unbothered by my less than bashful approach. Fingers wrap themselves into my hair and ease me downward, the feel of her skin against my face is heaven. There is no longer a need for her to guide me, I slide my tongue along her body and kiss the inside of her thighs, biting the soft flesh that I find there. I taste her for the first time, she tastes like strawberries and pears. It's impossible, I know it is, I've gone down on enough women to understand the biology of what is taking place there and have a healthy respect for those ladies who keep themselves extra clean. But I read once somewhere that when two people are matched for one another genetically, that things like the scent and saliva of the partners become appealing. I have no doubts, she was made for me, and I savor in the deliciousness of her. 

She begins to writhe with the feel of it, her toes curling and straightening as her legs wrap around my face. A kind of slow tremor begins to run through her body, she both pushes and pulls on me, as if she can't decide whether the feeling of an orgasm slowly coming to life inside her is ecstasy or agony. No words are spoken, she simply drags me up across the wetness of her body and kisses me, unafraid of tasting herself there, her tongue plunging inside my mouth and wrestling with my own. She turns me onto my back, and there is no need for assistance as she slides me inside her, inching her way down over every inch of me, her back arching with pleasure as her body begins to slowly rise and fall atop my own. The moment seems to stretch on for an eternity, it could be hours, it could be minutes, but the sight of her bouncing on top of me lit by the orange of the candles like some kind of a sexual Goddess is more than I can take. Sensing the impending eruption of my passion she slides off of me and takes me inside her mouth without hesitation. Her fingers slide up and down with a delicate sense of understanding, her lips wrapped around me, her tongue making small circles just slow enough to keep me from exploding. Seemingly forever, she keeps me there, on the brink of a finish beyond anything I have ever experienced. 

I let go. 

Her mouth works greedily as I release everything that I have been holding back, my own body racked with tremors of it's own. I've had great orgasms before, but this spreads from just my groin and throughout every cell of my body, until I fall back on the bed and she crawls atop me, lying her head against my chest and finding peace there. She looks up at me, and I down at her, and though I had not believed it possible, the passion of her gaze overpowers all that had come before it. 

We are there, together, there in that moment, and I know that whatever may happen after that, my soul will always belong to her.



Sarah



When I first met Sarah, the day she interviewed to work in my office, I was immediately struck by her beauty. She was 23, fresh out of college, and her obvious physical gifts were matched by a confidence that made her the easy choice for the job, which was essentially to be my assistant.

She was about 5'2", petite and very fit, the result, I soon learned, of her daily early-morning workouts at the gym. She wore her wavy, light-brown hair at shoulder length. Her smile was a lovely one, always accompanied by a twinkle in her brown eyes and adorable dimples on her cheeks. Her perfectly proportioned body - perky tits, a tight ass - meant that she looked great in anything she chose to wear, whether it was jeans on a casual Friday or business-casual attire for a meeting.

I knew my boss, John, would be pleased when I hired her, because she met his two most important criteria: she was competent, and she was hot. See, John and I went way back, both professionally and personally. It had been about five years since he hired me, fresh out of college like Sarah was now, to assist him as he got his start-up company off the ground. 

We had quickly found that we had an excellent working relationship; I was able to anticipate his every need, and my skills exactly matched those things that John didn't particularly enjoy doing. In other words, I was able to take care of the day-to-day details of the business so that John could concentrate on more important things, such as expanding the business into new areas and recruiting new clients.

He also appreciated my discretion as I began to serve some of his, um, other needs during the work day. I was more than happy to oblige, as I'd had a huge crush on John since the day I met him. It was only a few months after I started working for him that he first called me into his office, closed the door, and a few minutes later I ended up on my knees, sucking him off right there in his office. In the years since, we had maintained an effective professional relationship, making sure the the company was thriving, but we had also developed a hot and kinky sexual relationship as well.

It didn't take long after I'd hired Sarah for John to start teasing me about how she was younger and perkier than I was. I was, after all, 28 to her 23. I tried pointing out that he was 45, and therefore might not be one to talk, but that only resulted in a spanking session in his office. Don't get me wrong, I didn't mind this one bit; this was one of our favorite games: John meting out punishment for even the smallest of transgressions on my part. But Sarah's presence in the office added a new dimension to our activities; John made no secret of his attraction for her, and took every opportunity rib me - often as I was pleasuring him - about how he wished he could feel her perky tits, or spank her tight little ass, instead of mine.

I was much taller than Sarah - 5'7" - and had always been a bit jealous of women who were more petite. Don't get me wrong, I know I'm hot as well, with my long blonde hair, big blue eyes, and perfect C-cup tits, but I did have to admit that John's teasing sometimes got to me. But there was no denying that Sarah was incredibly hot, cute, and in absolutely perfect physical condition, and I knew it was probably only a matter of time before he pursued her.

Two weeks ago, I scheduled a meeting with Sarah to discuss how things were going with her position and her performance. Just before the meeting, I went into John's office for a pep talk. Why the pep talk? Well, I tend to avoid confrontation, and therefore sometimes have trouble telling people when they aren't doing a good job. John doesn't have this problem, because he has an easy time putting it in the perspective of what's best for the business and the bottom line.

"It's not personal, Kaitlin, it's business. It's great if 95% of her performance is strong, but you still need to address that other 5%. Sarah's smart and energetic, she's certainly capable of improving if you give her the opportunity. Just think of what I might say to you, and you'll be fine."

"So, you want me to threaten to spank her if she doesn't improve?"

John smiled, pulled me close to him, pinched my left nipple hard, and said, "Well, you might want to lead up to that."

I went into the meeting with Sarah wet, my left nipple still tingling from John's expert touch. I beat around the bush for a little while, praising Sarah for this and that, before finally getting to a few areas of concern. She was surprisingly receptive, asked lots of questions, and promised to do better in the future. All in all, I felt as though the meeting was very successful, and proudly reported to John that I was confident that the few issues I'd had with Sarah would be resolved.

A week later, I discovered that some of the mistakes I had confronted Sarah about were still taking place. A few of John's appointments had not been confirmed, causing him great frustration, and there were still some issues with late billing. All in all, Sarah was handling a large workload with great capability, but these isolated slip-ups were really beginning to frustrate me. After all, any poor performance on her part would reflect on me, as her supervisor.

I pulled Sarah aside later that day and confronted her with the errors I had found in her work.

"Sarah, we talked about this, and you said you would come to me with any questions or concerns, but you haven't, and the problems are still there. What can we do to resolve this?"

It was then that I saw a side of Sarah I hadn't before - a willingness to take on a defensive tone and then question the validity of my concerns.

"Oh, but I did confirm those appointments, I swear. And I thought you said you were going to finish up those invoices for me; remember, that was the day I had a doctor's appointment."

I was so surprised to see this kind of attitude from Sarah, especially that she would even go so far as to blame me for her mistake. I decided it was time to put my foot down.

"I'm surprised to hear you take that tone with me, Sarah. I won't be able to help you improve your performance if you don't take responsibility for your mistakes."

Sarah blushed and her eyes fell, obviously embarrassed for snapping at me. "I'm sorry, Kaitlin."

"I appreciate that, Sarah, but what's really important is that we get these issues resolved as soon as possible so that they don't impact the business. Why don't we plan to talk with John later this afternoon; I know he has an hour free on his calendar." 

"OK, Kaitlin, no problem. Sorry again."

"Please don't be sorry, let's just focus our energy on improving. I'll brief John at 2, why don't you plan to join us at 2:30?"

I went into John's office, closing the door behind me, a few minutes before two. He motioned for me to sit down while he finished up a phone call, and I considered one of the chairs across from his desk, but finally settled on the huge leather sofa on the other side of the room.

A few minutes later, John hung up his phone and walked across the room, joining me on the sofa. "So," he said with a smile, "how about you fill me in on the situation with Sarah, and meanwhile, I'll fill you with something as well?"

"Sounds like a plan," was all I was able to get out before gasping as he grabbed my tits and used them to pull me close. I unzipped his slacks and pulled out his soft cock, which quickly began to harden in my hands as I began stroking him.

While stroking his cock with one hand and fondling his balls with the other, I shared with him how defensive Sarah had been, how disappointed I was, and how I hoped he could help the situation. I guessed he'd heard all he needed to when he firmly pulled me down so that I had no choice but to take his now rock-hard cock into my mouth.

I kept one hand on the base of his cock and the other on his balls as I sucked his full length - he was about 7 inches when erect - deep into my mouth, holding him there for a moment before beginning a steady up and down motion. In between satisfied moans, he shared his fantasy about the appropriate punishment for Sarah's behavior. Spankings, tortuous attention to her nipples and inner thighs, hair pulling, all were part of his fantasy. I knew the fantasy could probably never come true, but it certainly was a turn on to listen to him talk about it, and his words spurred me on to suck him off with even more intense passion.

Whispering in my ear, he said, "We only have a few more moments before Sarah knocks on that door. Do you think you can make me cum?"

"Hmmmm," was all that came out as I tried to answer in the affirmative without letting him out of my mouth.

"Good girl, that's it, just like that."

He grabbed my hair tightly in his fingers as I intensified my speed once again, and then struggled to keep up a steady rhythm as he began to jerk beneath me. After a few last strokes, I felt him jerk one last time, before shooting a huge load of cum deep into my throat. It was all I could do to keep it all in my mouth - one of our most important rules for these office encounters, so as not to leave any evidence dribbling down my chin.

I had just pulled away from him and watched as he re-zipped his slacks when I heard the expected knock at the door.

"Enter," John said, using his most authoritative and formal voice.

Sarah entered, meekly, and somewhat awkwardly chose a chair next to John's desk, quite a distance from the sofa where John and I still remained. As she sat down, her knee-length business skirt slid up a few inches, and then even further up her thigh as she crossed her legs. I'm sure she noticed as both John and I stole glances.

"So," John said loudly enough to cause Sarah to sit up straighter in her chair. "I understand we have a few issues here. Nothing that can't be resolved efficiently, I'm sure. What do you think, Sarah?"

"Well, um, I'm just so embarrassed about the way I talked to Kaitlin earlier. I'm really sorry."

"I'm sure Kaitlin appreciates your apology, Sarah, but that doesn't really get at the heart of the issue. I understand there are still some mistakes that need to be resolved. I expect my employees to strive for perfection, and it doesn't sound like you've been doing that. What do you think would be an appropriate punishment?"

Sarah raised an eyebrow at the word 'punishment', and then surprised the hell out of me with her next comment.

"What do you mean, like a spanking?"

I would have thought it was a joke meant to ease the obvious tension in the room, except there wasn't a hint of a smile on Sarah's face, and she still sat at attention, back straight, legs crossed, proper as could be, facing John and waiting for his reaction. I was so shocked I couldn't have possibly formed a coherent sentence, but John had no problem keeping his cool.

"Well, that could be arranged." The room fell silent for a few moments. After getting no objection from Sarah, John continued, "Who do you think should do the spanking?"

"Oh, um, well, I assumed it would be you, John."

"Are you sure that would be most appropriate, Sarah? After all, Kaitlin is your supervisor."

John looked at me, his eyes sparkling as they did only when he was most turned on, but otherwise maintaining his professional demeanor.

"Um, yes," I stammered before gaining my composure, "I think that sounds like a good plan."

I stood up, walked over to Sarah, took her hand, and led her over to the sofa. I positioned her willing body so that she was bent over John's knee, her forearms on the arm of the sofa, her legs spread just slightly, and then meekly swatted her ass. John gave me a disappointed look, so I made another effort, swatting her harder this time, so that she squirmed and let out a tiny squeal.

"I don't think this is going to be sufficient, Kaitlin," John said, "perhaps I should take over."

He reached up, grabbed her skirt and roughly pulled it up so that her silky black panties were completely exposed, and slapped her ass firmly with a flat hand, making a sound at least five times louder than my spanking had done. Sarah tried to move, but John pushed her back into position.

"I don't think you understand, Sarah. This is going to be a punishment you will remember. I want it to stick with you as a reminder of what I expect of you, and the respect you owe Kaitlin. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Sarah moaned, the tone of her voice making clear that she understood his authority, and also that she was enjoying the attention just enough that had no intention of trying to stop the activity.

He swatted her a few more times, then turned to me and said, "I think it's time we remove those panties, don't you, Kaitlin?"

I blushed, but feeling no resistance from Sarah as I wrapped my fingers around the waist of her panties, I pulled them down past her hips, watching as the fabric pulled away from her wet pussy. As her panties fell to the floor, I couldn't help but to reach up and touch her, my fingers exploring the folds of her pussy lips. She responded immediately, grinding gently against my hand, as John watched and then began spanking her again, several times in rapid succession, very hard.

Just as I wondered how much more of this she could take, John took her gently by the arms and pushed her down to the floor, positioning her on her knees with her face and hands in his lap, then quickly unzipping his slacks once again. She needed no instruction to pull out his cock and began giving it attention with both her hands and mouth.

Meanwhile, John wordlessly motioned for me to position myself behind Sarah. I began fingering her again, this time inserting one, then two, fingers as deep as I could into her pussy. Remembering that I was supposed to be punishing her, I pulled out of her just as she began grinding against my fingers. She groaned in disappointment, but continued her motions up and down on John's cock.

"Good girl, Sarah. Now, I think you need a bit more punishment," John said as he reached down with both hands, pulled her tits out of the cups of her bra, and began kneading them and pinching her nipples. She pulled up off of his cock in protest, complaining in a whiny voice, "Oh, that hurts, my nipples are so sensitive!!"

"Good, Sarah, I'm glad it hurts. Let's see if you can learn a little discipline. Get back to work on my cock before I pinch them even harder!"

I then began stroking her clit with my fingers, pinching her occasionally, but never giving her the pleasure of actually entering her. She was moaning and writhing now, on the verge of cumming but never quite able to reach her climax as John and I both tortured her. I looked up at John and could see in his eyes that it wouldn't be much longer before he would cum.

He let go of her tits and moved his hands to her head, gently winding his fingers through her hair so that he could control her motions on his cock with gentle tugs. I pulled up closer to her, keeping one hand on her clit and the outside of her pussy, and moving my other hand to her tits, alternating between the two of them, kneading and pinching.

"Sarah, I'm going to cum, are you ready to swallow?"

"Ummm hmmmm," she moaned, and after a few more moments, I watched as John arched his back against the sofa and Sarah stopped bobbing up and down long enough to catch and swallow his load of hot cum.

"Um, yummy," she said as she stood up and straightened her clothes, pushing her skirt back down and reaching for her panties.

"Excuse me, Sarah, did I tell you that you were dismissed?" John said sternly.

"Oh, um, no?"

"We're not quite done with her, are we, Kaitlin?"

"No, John, I think a bit more punishment is in order, just to be sure Sarah has something to remember." Turning to her, I gave her an order: "Take off your clothes, all of them."

I knew John would enjoy seeing her body in its full glory. He gave me a look which I understood to mean that he wanted me to undress as well, so I stood up and unzipped my dress, allowing it to fall to the floor, before also removing my bra and panties. John then stood up and pulled off his slacks and boxers, his cock again beginning to harden, jutting up under his dress shirt.

"Now, Sarah, it's time for you to truly show Kaitlin how sorry you are for your lippiness earlier." As he spoke, John took me by the hand and positioned me on my back on the sofa, my head against the arm, and then spread my legs wide.

"Please, Sarah, show Kaitlin the attention she so obviously deserves and desires."

Sarah joined me on the sofa, kneeling between my legs, and began stroking my pussy lips, very gently at first, then more aggressively as I responded to her touch.

"Now, lick her," John instructed.

Sarah did as she was told, and I relished the feeling of her gentle tongue on my clit as her fingers continued to explore, finally entering my pussy. I looked up at John and smiled, watching as he stroked himself, his cock growing rock hard as he watched us.

"Now, Sarah, no matter what I do, I want you to keep all of your focus on Kaitlin's needs. Do you understand?"

"Umm hmm...."

John climbed onto the huge leather sofa behind Sarah, pulled her ass into the air, shoved her knees apart and pounded completely into her from behind in one smooth motion. She cried out in what I could only assume was a combination of surprise and pain, and John promptly responded by swatting her ass firmly.

Meanwhile, I was quickly moving closer to orgasm. The attention that Sarah was giving me, her petite fingers gently but quickly moving in and out of my pussy as her tongue explored my clit, probably would have been enough to push me over the edge - but to watch John pound into her ruthlessly from behind was the icing on the cake.

He continued to slap her ass periodically, sometimes gently, sometimes very hard, constantly keeping her on edge. It was one of these hard slaps, and her reaction to it, which was to thrust her fingers deeper inside of me and gently nibble my clit as she licked it, that finally sent me into an incredibly powerful climax.

I moaned and squealed and squirmed beneath her as I came, and rather than slowing or pulling away, she continued her motions throughout my orgasm, which only served to prolong and intensify it. Just as I was coming down from my high, John began to moan as he pounded Sarah so hard that she collapsed against me. I held her, our nipples rubbing together as John held her by the hips, keeping her ass in the air as he made his last few strokes.

John slapped Sarah's ass a few final times, the force pressing her even closer to me, before he finally came with a huge groan and sigh.

"Oh, my god, Sarah, that was amazing," John said as he pulled out of her. "Now, Kaitlin, there is one little task I have for you before we all go back to work."

"Yes, John?"

"Well, I do think most of the responsibility for these recent problems was Sarah's. However, you are her supervisor, and therefore should share in some of the responsibility."

"Yes, I agree. What should my punishment be?"

"I would like you to lick Sarah clean. I can't send her back to her desk dripping with cum, now, can I?"

"Good point, John." 

I rolled Sarah onto her back on the sofa, and dropped to my knees on the floor next to her. Spreading her legs wide open, I slowly and diligently licked every drop of John's cum - a favorite delicacy of mine- from her pussy. Sarah sighed beneath me as I worked, and John watched intently.

As I licked all around Sarah's inner thighs, around her pussy lips, up to her clit, and down to her asshole, searching for every trace of John's cum, she began writhing beneath me, and I realized how frustrated she must be, not having cum in spite of all of our attention. I glanced up at John as he walked to the back of the sofa, reached down, and began kneading Sarah's tits once again. He nodded his approval, and I proceeded to intensify my pleasuring of Sarah.




Sarah



After several more passes, slowly licking the outside of her pussy, I finally allowed my tongue to slip inside of her, and she moaned with pleasure. I now enjoyed the delightful combination of John's cum with Sarah's own juices. I pulled away for a moment to share my discovery.

"My god, Sarah, you taste so good. I knew I loved the taste of John's cum, but you're delicious too. Will you cum for me so I can taste even more of your juices?"

As I spoke, John began mercilessly pinching Sarah's nipples. She tried to fight him at first, but then gave in as I returned my full attentions to her dripping wet pussy. She was panting heavily now, and I knew it wouldn't be too much longer, but I tried to prolong her climax as long as I could. I plunged two fingers inside of her, gently pushing in and out as I licked and nibbled her clit.

As she moved ever closer to her climax, I pulled my fingers out of her and forced them into her mouth, and she eagerly licked them clean. I then brought my fingers back down to her clit, and began rubbing her quickly and intensely as I entered her with my tongue once again. I knew this attention, combined with John's continued pressure on her nipples, would quickly take her over the edge. It was just a few moments later that I was rewarded for my efforts as Sarah's pussy clenched around my tongue, she arched her back, and sighed with a huge climax, and I once again had the opportunity to clean her up, this time licking away mostly her own juices, with just a faint taste of John still lingering.

"Very good, Kaitlin," John said with a smile as I stood up. "I appreciate your attention to detail. Now, let's all get back to work, and try to remember what we've learned here today."

"Yes, sir," Sarah and I said in unison, smiling as we pulled on our clothes and left his office.



Sarah



Sarah had no idea where she was. She has given Jeff a blow job on the way to the bar that evening, and now that it really mattered, she had absolutely no idea where she was. She took one last, long look around and then walked back in the bar. 

Taking a seat at the bar she began to consider the events of the last hour. What had started out as a great third date had disintegrated into be stranded at a bar on the other side of town. She resolved to have a couple of drinks, call a cab and cut her losses. Fuck him, she mulled. 

After ordering another gin and tonic, she began to take stock of the bar for the first time. There were a couple of pools tables with a few guys playing, some general bar flies hanging and four guys that looked like locals discussing the merits of the designated hitter rule. All things considered it was a slow night for a Saturday. It was, also, not where she had expected to end up at 12:30 on a Saturday night. 

It didn't take long before one of the local boys noticed her sitting alone nursing a drink and decided to make her acquaintance. He waited until her drink was low and had the bartender replace it with one he had bought. Then he went over and introduced himself.

"Hi, they call me Joe," he said and extended his hand. She glanced over at him and, after a brief pause, shook his hand, thanked him the drink and told him her name was Sarah. She thought he wasn't the most handsome of the bunch but obviously he had the most gumption. She had been right in thinking he was a local and was able to find out exactly where she was and quite a bit about the history of this watering hole. Apparently, it was quite famous. It even had a bullet hole in the wall where a gangster had been shot. Several rounds of drinks later, the other three guys wandered over and joined the conversation. 

Introductions were made. Steve was the tall one wearing a Yankees jersey, Todd was short and stocky and balding and Bill was the best looking with longish, sun bleached, brownish blond hair. Tequila shots appeared on the bar and the guys all exchanged high fives when she downed her shot in one swig. Another round came up and she repeated her performance. She was enjoying the attention and was surprised that the evening was not going to be a total loss. 

She had planned on taking her date home and screwing his brains out and had dressed with that in mind. Wearing a slinky lime green dress cut to mid thigh teamed with stocking, garters and six inch fuck me pumps, she was a pictured to behold and she knew it. Now she had the full attention of four guys and was drinking for free. It was a good night. The fact that she had no car, no ride home and really didn't know exactly where she was really didn't bother her. Hey, this is New York, she thought. Cabs run 24 and 7 here. 

Between the gin and the tequila, she was beginning to feel a bit tipsy and excused herself to go the the restroom. When she stood up she faltered and put her hand on Steve's chest to steady herself. Steve took her arm and made sure she was able to stand before letting go. It took a few steps before she was totally steady on her heels but after that she headed off to the restroom. 

Joe was at the jukebox when she came around the corner of the bar. She winked at him and smiled before ducking into the lady's room. Joe thought about it for few minutes, then he followed her in. She was just coming out of the stall when Joe came through the door. At first, she was shocked, but the tequila had taken hold and soon she had her arms around his neck and was kissing him with long, deep, passionate kisses. Her tongue explored his mouth as he groped her ass and pulled her dress up over her hips. Sarah dropped down to her knees and pulled his dick out of his pants, marveling at how huge it was. She kissed it's head, licked the shaft and then took it in her mouth while swirling her tongue around the underside of the shaft. 

She felt it getting harder and bigger in her mouth so she stood up and turned around, leaning over the counter with her legs spread. Joe kneeled down behind her and pulled her panties to her knees. He took a few moments to admire her beautiful round ass before licking greedily at her sopping wet pussy and puckered little asshole. Soon he stood up and wet his dick by rubbing it between her wet slit. Then he guided his rock hard dick into Sarah's soaked pussy and began to slide it in and out. Each time he felt the back of her pussy and he began to pick up the pace until he was pounding Sarah hard. Sarah was biting her finger to keep from making any sound but it was next to impossible to due as she was having orgasm after orgasm. When he came, it was like fireworks inside Sarah's head and her pussy. She had never in her life felt anything like that. Joe stood up and pulled up his pants as Sarah disappeared into the stall. When she exited the stall, he was gone. She took a few minutes to calm herself, washed her hands and left the bathroom. 

When she came out, she found that the party had been relocated to the pool tables and new drinks had been ordered. She didn't feel like playing pool so she found a near by bar stool and took a seat. Joe and Bill were playing so Steve took the opportunity to come over and lean against the bar next to Sarah. She hooked her heel on the chair ring and crossed her long legs, letting her shoe dangle of the raised foot. Steve noticed that, as well as the fact that her dress had raised just enough to expose her stocking tops. Steve leaned closed and draped his arm along the bar behind her. He was close enough to smell her expensive perfume and just a hint of coconut in her hair. 

All three of the other guys had notice the stocking tops as well and Bill was hardly able to pay attention to the game anymore. Todd ordered another round of shots as Joe, watching that one foot with the shoe dangling off it, completely missed the cue ball. They all gathered around Sarah to do the next shot of tequila. Since Todd had ordered them, he felt it was his duty to propose a toast. Putting his hand on Sarah knee, he made the corniest toast ever and everybody slammed back the shot. 

As the other guys continued to play, Steve put his arm around Sarah shoulders and pulled her against his chest. Sarah was a little drunk at this time and not really aware that she was leaning against him. Todd had left his hand on her knee following the shot and was now in the throughs of telling a dirty joke. As he was telling it he moved his hand slowly up her thigh until he reached the stocking top. Sarah felt his hand moving and calmly put her hand on his to stop it from going any higher. Steve began to move his hand from the shoulder, under her long blond hair, to the nape of her neck and slowly massage her. Meanwhile, her hand on Todd's had stopped it's forward progress but not his softly rubbing the top of her stocking. Steve slowly grasped the back for her head and tilted her face up before softly kissing her. At first, Sarah kept her mouth closed when he kissed her. But soon she was kissing him back and letting his tongue slowly explore her mouth. Steve softly put his hand in Sarah's cheek. As she was kissing Steve, her hand moved from Todd's hand and up his forearm, slowly and ever so slightly parting her legs and turning onto her hip in an effort to move closed to Steve. Her dress raised even further up her thigh and over her hip as she did this and the lacy edge of her garter was exposed. Todd continue to rub his hand over her milky thigh and over the now more exposed hip. 

Everything came to a halt in the bar as the scene unfolded. Nobody was playing pool anymore and the bar flies relocated to a nearby table to get a better view. Sarah's hand moved across Todd's chest and slid behind his neck and she stopped kissing Steve and turned her head to kiss Todd. Taking her free hand, Sarah moved Steve's hand to her breasts and began to move his hand in small circles. As Todd's hand caressed her thigh, she uncrossed and slightly spread her legs, showing the entire bar her lacy black panties. 

Todd didn't take long to move from the hip to her inner thigh and crotch. Steve slowly began to slide her dress off her shoulders and found the clasp on her bra, releasing her breasts. Todd slid his hand inside her panties and found a very wet slit to run his finger through. A soft moan came from Sarah. 

The bartender walked over and locked the front door and refreshed everybody's beer before grabbing a beer of his own and sitting down to enjoy the show. The chair was getting in the way now, so Steve helped Sarah stand up, as her dress and bra fell to the floor, and guided her to over to the pool table. Keeping her standing with her back to him, Steve begin kissing her neck and running his hand over her lovely body. 

Sarah opens her eyes for the first time since initially kissing Steve and suddenly realized that she was still in a bar with more than 10 guys and a woman watching her. Just a she realizes this fact, Steve's finger finds her clit and she starts to involuntarily thrust her hips into his crotch. Realizing what's happening to her, she drunkenly slurs "oh god...oh god...no...please...don't...stop!" She started to fight, reaching around behind her and clawing at his back. Suddenly, she heard a zipper and she is forced over the pool table. Steve kicked her legs apart and shoved his dick into her wet pussy. He grabbed both her hands in one hand and wrapped his other hand around her long blond hair, pulling her head up off the pool table and force her to arch her back and shove her pussy onto his dick. Not one to miss his chance, Todd jumped up onto the pool table and kneels in front of Sarah, pulling his dick out and shoving it into Sarah's mouth. 

Through a drunken haze, Sarah realizes what's happening. She didn't want this...not this. She was being raped in front of the bar by two locals and nobody was helping her. She starts to cry and yell for help, but, to the crowd, it only sounds like screams of ecstasy and they all begin to move closer to the action. 

Steve was pounding her pussy hard and Todd was throat fucking her harder. Suddenly Sarah's pussy starts to betray her and she is enveloped in a unbelievable orgasm, thrashings and moaning in spite of the pounding from both ends. Just as she is coming out of the orgasm, she felt Todd's dick get hot and he began to thrust faster. He ripped his dick from her mouth and sprays his cum on her face, getting in her eyes and some of it up her nose. It burns her eyes and she gasps for air but suddenly another dick is shoved in the mouth and the skull fucking continues. Sarah feels Steve cum in her pussy and he drops her arms and lets go of her hair. She feels him pull out and give her a hard slap on the ass. 

Sarah puts her hands on the guy skull fucking her to try and get away from him and the she feels another dick slam into her wet, cum filled pussy and feels another sharp slap on her ass Oh god, she thinks, the whole bar is having her! Just as she's racked by another orgasm, the dick in her mouth pulls out and more cum is layered on her face. As she beginning to get her breath and beginning to claw the cum out of her eyes so she can see, a young woman climbs onto the pool table and slides under her mouth. Sarah is suddenly looking face down into a pussy as the girl grabs Sarah's hair and slams her mouth into it. 

"Better start licking, bitch!" she screams. When Sarah doesn't start lick, her head is pulled up by her hair and her cheek receives a sharp slap. "Lick that cunt!" Sarah slowly starts to lick and she gets another slap so she start to lick faster. The stranger fucking her cums in her pussy and withdraws and is replaced by yet another one, this time one with a bigger dick. As he starts to pound her pussy, she is forced harder into the pussy she is licking, forcing her tongue deeper and deeper. 

The guy who was fucking her pulls out and cums on her ass and then is replaced by another, much bigger dick in her pussy. Soon, the girl started to buck against Sarah's face and wrapped her legs around Sarah's neck. Sarah is confronted with a virtual river to lap up when the girl cums in Sarah's face. Suddenly the girl is pulled out from underneath Sarah's face. Looking up, Sarah sees the girl positioned on the opposite side of the pool table as Steve's starts to fuck her. The view is short lived, though, as another guy gets on the pool table and shoves his dick into Sarah's mouth. 

The big dick guy fucking her suddenly stops and pulls out and shoves his dick into Sarah's asshole. Sarah screams around the dick in her mouth to no avail. Big dick guy begins to pound her ass just as hard as he had her pussy. But the pounding in her ass was forcing her clit to rub against the edge of the table and it wasn't long before she was in the throws of an orgasm more extreme than anything she hd ever experienced. She got so lost in the continuous orgasm that she didn't even notice that the skull fucking had stopped and guys were just cuming on her face, helped out by the blow jobs the girl, whose pussy she had eaten, was giving them. The guy pounding her ass finally came and her orgasm subsided. Another guy took his place and starts pounding her pussy, and before she could stop herself, Sarah begins screaming for him to fuck her ass, eager to have another orgasm like before.

But instead she is flipped over and pulled off the pool table. She is force to kneel over some guy and shoved down on his dick. Somebody else comes up behind her and shoved his dick into her ass so that she is impaled on two dicks at once while yet another guy grabs her hair and mashes his dick into her mouth. Her hands grabbed the dick in her mouth to keep it from pounding into the back of her throat and she is slapped hard for the effort. Soon the guy cums, shoving his dick deep down her throat and making her swallow all of his jizz. After he pulls out she is gasping for air when the girl came over and kissed her hard. Forcing her tongue into her mouth she deposits a mouthful of some guy's cum. She is slapped again and then another dick is shoved in her mouth and yet another orgasm wracks her body. 

She is now exhausted and simply lets them do anything they want to her. After being double penetrated several more times she's thrown onto her back on a table where they continued to fuck her pussy and ass until she lost count of the dicks that had cum in her. Three times the girl squatted on her face so that Sarah could lick the cum out of her pussy and she could cum on Sarah's face again. It wasn't long after that that Sarah passed out. 

The bartender waited until everyone was through using her before he made last call and eventually locked the door behind the last customer. He picked up her cum covered body and dumped her in a booth and covered her in a blanket, gently tucking a pillow under the head. After he had finished cleaning up the bar, including the pool of cum on the pool table and floor, he picked her up and moved her to the couch in the back apartment before finally retiring himself in his big feather bed.



Sarah



It is always a bad day when you find out that you are stupid; when you find out that you have been played for a sucker. And it is an extremely bad day when you find out that the person who played you is the same person who almost every day for years has been telling you that she loves you.

Sarah and I met in the ninth grade and while most people will tell you that the feelings that you have when you are that young are just 'puppy love' and immature infatuation I knew that I loved Sarah as soon as I set eyes on her for the first time.

We dated off and on through the ninth and part of the tenth grade and then I asked her to go steady and was overjoyed when she said yes. We went steady for the rest of high school and one week after graduation I asked her to marry me. Everyone I knew told me not to do it. They gave me all kinds of reasons from "You are too young" to "The two of you are just not right for each other." The one I heard the most often was, "You have never had a relationship with anyone else but her. You need to at least experience a date or two with a couple of other girls just to make sure that you know what you are doing."

I ignored them all because I loved Sarah and I knew that she loved me. Okay, we were young, so what? I'd read somewhere that half of the married couples in the United States got married right out of high school. And yeah, we were total opposites, but again, so what? We loved each other and we got along great. Why did I need to date others to see what it would be like when I already had the love of my life?

After graduation my father got me on at the paper mill. It was the afternoon shift and I didn't care much for the hours, but the pay was good and as soon as I had saved up enough to get an apartment Sarah and I were married.

++++++++++++++++++

Sarah and I were both virgins when we climbed into our marriage bed. Sarah because she had promised her mother and me because Sarah had made me promise her. That didn't mean that I was going into our new life a sexual dummy. I had seen plenty of porn videos and I was fully aware of all the fun things you could do. I was looking forward to eating Sarah's pussy, getting my first blow job, trying anal sex and trying out all of the various positions that I had seen. I had even positioned a mirror in our bedroom so I could see Sarah's tits swing wildly back and forth as I made love to her from behind.

I was disappointed when Sarah came to bed in a long flannel nightgown and turned off all the lights.

"No, don't" she said when I attempted to get to her breasts and any effort to get her nightgown above her waist was met with a, "Stop that Kevin," and then everything went to hell. "For what we need to do I don't need my nightgown any higher than my waist."

"What we need to do Sarah? This is our wedding night. The night we are finally free to make love. Free to enjoy each other."

"No Kevin, according to my mother tonight will be one of pain. We will consummate the marriage and get the pain of losing my virginity out of the way and then tomorrow we will get a calendar and plot out my fertile times. Once we get them plotted we will know when we can make love again."

"Next time Sarah? I planned on making love every single night."

"My mother says that the only reason for having sex is to procreate so if I can't get pregnant for the next couple of weeks there is no reason for us to have sex."

"Sarah, I don't give a rat's ass what your mother says. Sex is healthy and it is the ultimate expression of love. I have waited two years for this night and the nights that will follow it. You know how eager I was to make love to you, but I promised to wait and I have. Now you hit me with this "My mother says" nonsense? This is stuff you should have brought up and made clear before we were married."

"If I had would you have married me?"

"Willingly enter into a sexless marriage? Not likely. Are you telling me that you deliberately married me with the intention of denying me the benefits of marriage?"

"My mother says..."

"Fuck your mother Sarah! I didn't marry your mother; I married you. And I'm telling you right now that if you don't believe in having sex unless you are trying to make babies this marriage is over before it even starts because I'm not going to go five or six years without sex."

"Five or six years?"

"Damned right. I'm not going to saddle myself with kids until I've had a little time to enjoy life."

"But my mothe...."

"Forget it Sarah. Go home and live with your mother," I said as I got up and started to get dressed.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to see my dad and see if he knows how to go about getting the marriage annulled. It might not be too hard to do since we never consummated it."

I had my clothes on and was heading for the door when Sarah cried, "Please Kevin, don't go and leave me here."

"You don't need to stay here Sarah; go home to your mother. See what she has to say. She seems to have something to say on just about everything."

"Kevin please, don't go honey. I love you, you know I do."

"I love you Sarah, but as far as I'm concerned a strong, healthy sex life is a part of any marriage. You wouldn't make love with me before we got married and you made me promise to stay a virgin until we were married. The wait is over Sarah and now the girl that I promised to wait for tells me that our marriage is going to be basically sexless? I don't think so. I'm not going another week without sex and I will not cheat on my wife. To me that pretty much means that we have the marriage annulled and then you can go back to doing whatever your mother says and I can go find some one to help me get rid of my cherry."

"Please Kevin no, don't do that to me. What do I have to do?"

"You don't 'have' to do anything. It has to be a cooperative effort or it will be a waste of time. I want the sex life that I've been looking forward to. I want you naked on our bed. I want the lights on and I want to enjoy sex in all of its forms including anal and oral sex."

"No!"

"No what?"

"I will not have anal sex. It is a disgusting perversion and it is totally out of the question. I feel almost as strongly about the idea of oral sex, but most of my girlfriends do it and they say that they like it so I'll try. I'm not going to promise anything, but I will try. But absolutely no anal sex at all."

I stood at the door and looked at her. I was sure that she would love sex and that I could eventually win her over and get her to try anal so I took my hand off of the doorknob and went back to the bed and undressed.

The night was a disaster. My buddies all told me to go slow. They said that Sarah would scream out and then cry for maybe a minute but that I shouldn't let that put me off. 

"She'll get into it dude. It may take a minute or so, but the pain only hurts for a short while and then she will respond. When that happens be ready to hang on for the ride of your life. Just take it slow and let Sarah get used to it before picking up the pace."

Well, they got the cry and scream part of it right, but Sarah never did get used to it or respond. I had wanted my first time to be more than a quickie so for three days before the wedding I jacked off three and four times a day. As a result I lasted almost nine minutes and Sarah screamed and cried the entire time. When it was over and I'd pulled out of her Sarah got off the bed and ran to the bathroom and stayed in there until I had fallen asleep. In retrospect I would have been a lot better off if I had gone out of the apartment and gone for the annulment.

++++++++++++++++++

Sarah did give me the sex life that I told her that I wanted, but not in the way I expected. I wanted sex and she gave it to me and then just lay there and suffered through it until I finished. She held to her "no anal" position, but she did almost everything else. She let me move her into different positions, but it didn't matter which one I used she didn't respond. She would lay there, lean there, kneel there, whatever and just let me use her and then she would run for the bathroom and scrub herself clean in the shower before coming to bed. She would give me blow jobs but warned me never to cum in her mouth. Even then, after I'd pulled out and cum in a hankie, she would dash for the bathroom, brush her teeth and gargle for a few minutes. She would let me eat her pussy whenever I wanted to, but even after I'd brushed my teeth and gargled with Scope she still wouldn't kiss me for a day or two.

In short, she gave me everything that I wanted and then she destroyed it with a total lack of interest. The weird part of the whole thing is that except for in the bedroom we were a happy couple. I loved Sarah and I had no doubt that she loved me. We hugged, snuggled, cuddled and kissed and were happy to be in each other's company - except in the bedroom. Eventually the sexual aspect of my marriage faded to the point where I only had sex with Sarah on the average of once a week. 

And then one fine summer evening our marriage went down in flames.

++++++++++++++++++

It was a unique situation. It had never happened before and I don't suppose anyone had ever given any thought to the fact that it might some day happen. I was two hours into my shift when all of a sudden there were cops and firemen all over the place. My foreman and the shift manager hurried through the mill and had every one shut down the machinery and evacuate the building. It seemed that some radical environmentalist group had called the local newspaper and told them that they had planted bombs at the paper mill.

"If the mill is gone there will be no need to cut down the trees" was part of their statement.

The foreman told us that we might as well go on home and that they would call us back if they got the all clear from the bomb squad. Some guys hung on the chance they might see the mill blow up, but most of us either went to Mac's Bar and Grill or went home. 

Sarah worked as a waitress at Estelle's Caf‚ from seven till four and so I was not surprised to see her car in the apartment parking lot when I got home, but I was surprised when I walked in the front door to hear her cry out, "Oh god yes, fuck me." My heart turned cold. Not once in our five-year marriage had I ever heard those words from Sarah, but someone was hearing them. I headed down the hallway toward the bedroom and when I looked in I got the shock of my life. Sarah was standing next to the bed, bent at the waist and her mouth was sliding up and down on the cock of the man lying on the bed while behind her another man was pounding his cock into her asshole. None of them noticed me so I stepped across the hall into the extra bedroom, closed the door almost all the way and then watched what was taking place in my bedroom while I tried to figure out the best way to handle it.

The conventional response was out. That would end up involving the police, ambulances, hospital emergency rooms and the resultant scandal would make me the town laughing stock. And there would be a scandal because the cock in Sarah's mouth belonged to her brother Mike and the cock buried in her ass was attached to her father. I could already hear it ringing in my ears.

"Pretty piss poor man Kevin, if you are so bad in bed that your wife has to bring in her family to do your job."

That, and other taunts like it, would be my lot in life if this ever got out. I stood there and watched as my wife joyously gave her father and brother everything that she had denied me. I watched as she caressed Mike's balls with one hand while she supported herself with the other.

"Get ready Sis, here it comes," I heard Mike say and Sarah clamped her lips tight around his cock and I saw her throat move as she swallowed what his cock spit out. When he pulled his spent cock out of her mouth she licked it clean and then she went back to sucking on him to try and get him up again. At her other end her father had his hands on her hips and he was pounding into her while she pushed her ass back at him. I watched until he said, "I'm ready baby girl, where do you want it?"

"In my mouth daddy, I want it in my mouth."

He pulled out and Sarah turned and went to her knees in front of him and took his filthy cock into her mouth. Her dad grabbed the back of her head in both hands and fucked her face while she shoved a couple of fingers into her cunt and fingered herself to an orgasm - the first one I had seen her have. 

When her father was limp she had him lie on the bed and she got on her hands and knees on the bed and went to work at getting him hard again. Meanwhile Mike, who was erect again, moved in behind her and slid his cock in her ass. As Mike pumped into her Sarah rocked back and forth between the two men. It took her almost five minutes to get her daddy hard again and when he was up she had Mike stop what he was doing and she straddled her dad and using her right hand to guide him she lowered herself down on his cock. Once he was past the opening to her cunt she slammed down on him saying, "Oh God daddy, I do love your cock."

Her father put his arms around her neck and pulled her head down to his chest and Mike moved back in behind her and pushed his cock back into her asshole.

"Jesus, but I do love being so full," Sarah moaned, "Come on guys, fuck me, fuck me hard, make me cum."

As I watched the three of them I wondered what Sarah's mother, who seemed to have something to say on almost everything, would say about that. Of course, knowing that old biddy, she might even have told Sarah to do it. I could almost hear her twangy voice, "Now Sarah, you need to take good care of Mike and your father. After all, they are family. If you have any left when they are done with you you can let Kevin have some."

I had seen enough and I had realized that there was nothing I could do about it, but that didn't mean that I couldn't make them sweat. I went over to the desk where the computer was, unplugged my digital camera from the USB port and made sure that the batteries had a full charge. I walked across the hall, stood in the bedroom door and hollered out, "Honey, I'm home" and all three looked at the doorway and I snapped the picture. I got four more as they scrambled and tried to separate and get off the bed. Sarah was crying out, "Kevin honey, I can explain" as I walked down the hall toward the front door.

++++++++++++++++++

Sarah's father called me and asked me how much I wanted for the camera and memory card and I told him they were not for sale. 

"You might avoid seeing them all over town and on the Internet if you convince your little whore to fade quietly into the sunset when I file for divorce. I'm filing on the grounds of adultery and as long as she doesn't contest it and no member of your family ever pisses me off any more than you all ready have the photos will never see the light of day."

Sarah made several attempts to get in touch with me, but I never spoke to her again. The information that became public as part of the divorce action pretty much labeled her as a whore. It stated that I had caught her in bed with two men, unnamed, and by not contesting she tacitly admitted that it was true. She had either quit her job, or got fired from it - I'm not sure which - because her new notoriety had every sleaze bag and lowlife in town coming into the restaurant and hitting on her or offering her money for sex. 

It is ironic that her lack of a job has caused her to have to move back home where she has to live with the sleaze bag and low life that are her father and brother. I often wonder what her mother has to say about that. 



Sarah



I push her up against the door frame as we kiss. One hand grips a handful of her hair, pulling her head back, the other slides up her leg under her skirt grasping a handful of her rear. Sarah lifts that leg and wraps it around me pushing her pelvis against mine. She kisses me back hard, her tongue fighting against mine, and nibbles at my lips when we separate.

"That's it," she hisses at me, grabbing my bum with both hands and pushing my crotch against her, "stop being so damn polite and take what you want!"

I tug on her hair and am rewarded with a delighted squeal. Stepping away from her I lightly grasp the back of Sarah's neck and lead her toward my small dining table. She looks up at me as we move with a faux look of innocence on her face. After a few steps we bump against the table edge and Sarah leans in for another kiss. I step back and use her momentum to push her down to the table face first. She stops herself by resting both hands on the table surface but stays bent over it looking back at me mischievously.

I step behind her and reach over to pull one of her arms and then the other around her back and hold them there together with my left hand. Sarah is now pinned face down on the table forming a perfect right angle. She squirms and wriggles playfully and her bum moves in small, encouraging, circles. I bring my free hand down hard on her ass cheek, causing a muffled sounding slap against her dress fabric. 

"Fuck!" Sarah cries out, just before I spank her again. The second strike generates a bark of pleasure from her.

After the second slap I grip her dress and pull it upward, moving with clumsy urgency. Her small black thong is revealed, its plain and simple and seems glued to the flesh of her bum. It frames her two cheeks perfectly, two round fleshy mounds soft and smooth to the touch, and I can't help but marvel at them. I roughly grab a handful of the slap reddened cheek and push it outward revealing a glimpse of Sarah's labia.

Suddenly I'm completely out of control. My cock aches for release and my breathing is quick and ragged. My balls ache, desperate for release, so I grab the thin elasticated band at the top of Sarah's panties and pull down, roughly maneuvering them off her pelvis and down to her knees where I abandon them and set to work undoing my fly and freeing my cock.

Sarah has raised herself up on her toes and arched her back, presenting herself to me. Her sex is hot pink against her tanned flesh and glistens with her excitement. As soon as it is free I guide my penis up to her and push the tip against her opening. My hand quickly moves up to join the other grasping her wrists as I slam myself into her. I use my grip on her arms for leverage and push myself in as far as I can, my balls slapping against her. 

"Yes!" Sarah screams in an almighty roar which she repeats as I slide partly out and slam in again with similar force.

Her pussy is hot, wet and tight about my cock and I begin to fuck her with wild abandon, my thrusts slow and regular but powerful and deep. Every time I slam into her Sarah yelps encouragingly.

"Ah, yes, come on!" Gasping each word in time to my thrusting, "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"

I'm dumbfounded that this beautiful young woman is so eager for me to take her so roughly, the harder I take her the louder and more forceful her encouragement becomes. All my frustration from the day boils up as I fuck Sarah more vigorously.

"Oh you like it hard huh!" I growl between thrusts getting into the swing of my role. I begin trying to summon up better dirty talk. "Fine, you asked for it!"

I let go of Sarahs arms and grab tight hold of her hips pulling her back from the table slightly. With my feet I kick her legs apart holding them in position as best I can with my knees and feet. I then begin to slam my member into her as hard as I can, pulling her hips toward me with each thrust. My pace is slow and deliberate, sliding out slowly as far as I dare so barely the tip stays inside her before surging forward.

With each trust I attempt to alter the angle by which I enter her, and each thrust generates a new delighted scream from Sarah as I search for her preferred pressure points. Before long she's losing patience with my pace;

"Oh my God! Stop teasing me, if I don't come soon I may explode," Sarah grips the edge of the dining table and begins to push herself backward into my thrust, forcing a quicker pace.

I move to reassert my control by pushing Sarah forward so once again she's pinned to the table and I grab her arms wrestling them back behind her back. This time however I hold them in place with just my left hand as my right darts forward and grabs a handful of her sleek brown hair. I pull it back and down slowly, forcing Sarahs head back.

Sarah speaks through gritted teeth, "Oh, your loving this now aren't you. Taking my hot little body anyway you want." 

I begin trusting into Sarah with quick short thrusts. Her breathing becomes just as ragged and quick as my own as we both charge toward our onrushing orgasms.

Sarah starts to exhale loudly with each thrust making a delicious moaning noise. She continues to try and talk but her words are cut off by her own gasps and moans. I'm beginning to sound like some kind of rutting animal, guttural growls coming with every thrust. My pace quickens as we both feel our orgasms rising, we both begin to grunt, moan, shout and curse louder and louder to a crescendo.

I feel Sarah's sex clamp tight around me as she comes, her shouts and moans degenerate into one long growling exhale as she twitches and squirms beneath me. At the same time my own orgasm thunders toward my crotch, my whole body tightens as it surges into Sarah. I release Sarahs hair and arms and have once again gripped her hips desperately holding myself inside her as the rest of my body fights to remain upright. 

The frustration and anger I'd felt through the day vanish in an instant and all I feel is the warmth of my orgasm and the heat of Sarahs sex around my dick. I start to laugh with joy, breathless chuckles as I fight to regain control of my breathing. Sarah joins in, her giggles coming between twitching spasms that shake her whole body and cause her to tighten around my rapidly deflating member.

I slide out of her and collapse against the table, exhausted.

"My word, you are sensational," I gasp, "you have no idea how much I needed that!"

Sarah chuckles and stands, "of course I knew! That's why I picked you out tonight, knew you'd have that in you," she winks down at me. "Now if you don't mind I would like a shower, bathroom?" She inquires with raised eyebrows.

I point toward the hall mouth hanging open, totally entranced by her, "Far right door in hallway."

She smiles and heads off, but quickly pokes her head back around the door way, "I'm not done with you yet by the way Pete, I have high hopes for you this evening based on your performance so far," she disappears from view as she heads down the corridor but shouts back, "You've had your fun, next time its Ladies choice!"

I collapse into a heap, a huge smile on my face. What was I mad about again?