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Tami

By: Maverick Aussie



The year was 1994, I was a University student in Melbourne, Australia at an extremely competitive school, one where books and studying were the norm. Relationships were for after college!

Anyway, it had been a long, hard semester. I had gotten pneumonia and had had a very tough time completing all my courses on time and successfully. I am sure I would have failed at least one course if not for my friend Melinda. She took notes in class for me and made an effort to get me up to speed enough to complete my final exams!

By the end of the semester I was exhausted, both physically and mentally. I looked forward to nothing more than packing up my belongings and heading home for some rest and relaxation... and no libraries!

It was around 8:30pm the night before I was set to head home. I was packing up my belongings and blasting the radio... the most appropriate method of psychological release at the moment. Suddenly at more door appeared Melinda and several other friends and acquaintances, including Tami. Tami lived in the room next to Melinda. With all the time I spent studying and cramming with Melinda it was always a pleasure to admire Tami. She was extremely cute, a year younger and a great conversationalist. Whenever we took a break from studying it was always a joy to sit and talk about everything and nothing with Tami. I had always been interested in her, but never had the opportunity as our relationship was definitely aiming in the platonic direction.

Anyway, Melinda, Tami and gang wanted to know if I was interested doing a little bar action with them to celebrate the end of the semester. I said no, that I was beat and just wanted to get ready to get out of town! Tami, put some pressure on me, but to no avail... off they went without me!

About an hour or so later I had just about completed packing, and was finishing up the last load of laundry. I was playing the radio still, but now it was on a soft rock station playing very softly. I was mellow!

Suddenly, a very light tapping on my door snapped me out of my trance. Opening the door I was surprised to see Tami. She noticed my reaction and explained that the bar that the group had gone to was cutting down on underage drinkers and would not permit her (the youngest member of the group) in. She had come back alone and wanted to see what I was up to.

She was visibly disappointed about missing out on the bar action, so I offered here a glass of wine, the only thing remaining in my tiny refrigerator. She said that would be great, but she would enjoy it more mixed with some Seven-Up. She went off to the soda machine, as I pondered the evenings possibilities. I decided that the norm would prevail and we would have some pleasant conversations.

Tami returned and we jumped up on the bed and drank some "spritzers" and just talked. We talked about current events, school, her family, and just about every other benign subject known to man. However, after about an hour we started discussing (for the first time) more intimate things, like relationships, lovers and the meaning of life. In the course of this more provoking conversation a further intimacy came over us.

At one point the conversation subsided for a moment. And Tami edged closer and touched her lips against mine. Her lips were extremely soft and delicate, in fact they felt better than any lips I had kissed before. Her lips parted and our tongues met in a long and extremely passionate kiss. She delicately moved her tongue inside my mouth, exploring and arousing me with every movement of her tongue. For at least twenty minutes all we did was kiss in a very slow and compassionate way. We were both becoming more aroused by the moment, but we did not want to ruin what we were doing, it was as if our lips and mouths were made to be joined.

Tami finally pulled away and stood up. I was afraid that the night was over as she started walking away from me towards the door. She said absolutely nothing, and I just stared after her. When she reached the door she turned around to look at me, as she did so she put her hand on the light switch and gently switched off the lights. I couldn't see her as my eyes needed to adjust to the new ambiance. I finally noticed Tami had moved back closer to the bed. All I could see was her silouhette against the small amount of light entering from the window.

I noticed her slip out of her shoes, and start to unbutton her blouse. She slowly undid it button by button. Finally, pulling the tails of her blouse out of her pants, removing it and carefully draping it over a chair. She then put her hands between her breasts and unclasped her bra. She slowly removed it and dropped it to the floor.

I was mesmerized. Tami's breasts were greatly minimized by her clothing. She now seemed to be a 36D, with full round tits. I strained to see her nipples in the dark, and was pleased to see that they were extremely erect and at least half an inch long.

Tami



She came bouncing down the stairs all ready to go to the gym, and god, she looked stunning. I'm talking about my sister, Tami. She's been after me for a month to take her to the gym with me so she can get in shape for the summer, not that she really needs to. She looks great to me the way she is, although, at 18 and a senior is high school, she is a 'late bloomer,' as mom constantly says, which drives Tami crazy. She's a little on the thin side, but still looks great. I think it's her face that sets her off. She has a beautiful face with the most appealing blue eyes I've ever seen, and an awesome ass. For her birthday last week I gave her a present of three months as her personal trainer at the private gym where I work. 

For most of her life, Tami was a gymnast, and had the body to go with it, except she was a little tall. At five feet nine, she towered over the other girls in her class, so she dropped out a couple years ago and had lost some of the body tone she had when she was active. That's what she wants to get back, as well as to gain a little weight, especially in her breasts, which are still quite small. 

I'm three years older than Tami. In high school I was a wrestler, and always took good care of my body and kept in shape, and still work out regularly. When I graduated from high school three years ago I went to a local college and took classes to be a personal trainer and nutritionist, and when I finished the course, I got the job at the gym. The owner was my wrestling coach, Mike, and he encouraged me to take the courses and work for him. It pays well, and during the past two years I've managed to build up a good client base; good enough to move out and into my own apartment, which is not far from the gym. I manage the gym when Mike's at school during the day, and he takes over in the evening. I like the hours; I work Monday through Friday, eight to four, and two or three evenings during the week. He gets in around four, and I can leave, but I usually schedule a few clients during the evening. He pays me a good salary, and the clients pay the regular membership fee and my fee, so it works out well for both of us. He's also paying for my class to become a massage therapist, so I can add that to my regular duties once I complete the course. 

I told him what I wanted to do for Tami, and he gave her a three month free membership. If she continued using the gym after that, he said that he would give her a good discount and wouldn't charge the standard initiation fee. He's a really good guy, and it was because of his generosity that I was able to give this gift to my sister. I offered to continue helping him with the wrestling team, especially during tournaments when he needs me. We have a good working relationship and friendship.

"Let's get started!" Tami exclaimed as she gave me a hug in appreciation and headed out the door to the car. Yea, she looked good from behind. She was wearing black leotards and a pink sweater, and had her light blond hair pulled back and tied, showing off her beautiful face. Her hair normally falls down to her shoulders and I like it better that way, but this was good for the gym. 

"Tomorrow I can drive myself; mom will be home and said that I can use the car."

"I don't mind picking you up. It's not that far from the gym, and it gives me a little break," I replied.

"What are we going to do first?" she asked, "I can't believe I have a personal trainer for three whole months! This is the greatest gift ever!" 

I could tell she was excited to get started.

"Today will be a little boring, I'm afraid," I relied, thinking that it would be. "I need to give you a tour of the gym, have you sign a contract, and then take your measurements, set goals, and develop a work out plan that you can agree to."

"Take measurements and sign a contract? You're taking this seriously, aren't you?"

"I'm treating you just like any other client, and the contract is part of the routine. You have to keep to the contract just like anyone else."

"You don't have to take my measurements; I know what they are."

"Measurements are part of the routine. I'll have to take them, and we'll repeat them every two weeks to chart your progress. I enter everything into the computer, along with your goals, and it makes suggestions for exercises and other things to meet your goals. It's a sophisticated program, and everyone has to do it, Tami. Besides, the diagnostic plan is free, so you should take advantage of it."

"Ok, this is so exciting. I haven't felt this way since I gave up gymnastics. It'll be good to get back into a workout routine. Thanks again, Jason."

It only took about five minutes to arrive at the gym. We went inside and I introduced Tami to Mike, although they had already met. Tami came to many of my wrestling matches, but that was a few years back. I also went to her gymnastic meets.

"You're in good hands, Tami. Jason will take good care of you." Mike told her.

I gave Tami the tour of the facility, and had her check to make sure the women's locker room was empty before I took her in there and showed her around. Once we got back to the counter, I got out her folder, which I prepared that morning, and went over the contract with her. It called for her to commit to training at least four times a week.

After reading through its many pages, Tami said, "This all sounds good, and I promise to be your best client. Where do I sign?"

I showed her where she had to sign and initial each page. After that, we were ready to begin. I got my clip board and her client sheet and sat down with her in the lounge, and started asking her questions.

"What's your primary goal?"

"To get my athletic body back," Tami replied.

"What areas of your body do you want to improve?" I asked.

"What do you think?" 

"Tami, I'm the trainer, you're the client. You tell me," I replied.

"Seriously," she said, sorta sheepishly, "What do you think needs improved?"

"Seriously?" I asked. "Well, first I would work on developing your arms and legs to regain the muscle tone you've lost over the past two years of inactivity."

"Inactivity? I've been active, Jason. Just not as active as I once was."

"Yeah, but you haven't been working out like you were."

"Do I look that bad to you?"

"No, you look great, you just need some toning up, that's all."

"What else should I work on?"

"Well, how are your abs?" I asked, noting that with the leotards I couldn't see them.

"They need some work, too," she replied, noting that she feels she's gotten a little flabby.

"We can do that. Anything else?"

"Boobs. They're still the size they were when I was in gymnastics, which isn't very big. Can you do anything about them?" she asked.

"We can work on that. I'll want to put you on a weight regiment with a supplement to help you add a few pounds, and do some targeted exercises and work out routines to, well let's say, add the weight in the right places."

"You can do that?" she asked.

"We can try, Tami. We'll see what we can do."

We talked a few more minutes, and then I suggested that we get her measurements. 

"Do we have to do that?" she asked, "I mean out here in public and all?"

"We could do the measurements in my office if you'd rather," I suggested. I had done that with some other clients in the past. I took Tami into my office, showed it to her, and then suggested that we get started. 

"Where are you going to start?" she asked.

"I usually begin at the bottom and work my way up," I said, kinda laughing at her nervousness, which was also a reflection of my own. It's different taking the measurements of a stranger than it is my own sister. For some reason, I was also a bit nervous as I got out my tape and started. 

"I'll begin with your calves, then your thighs and hips," I said as I knelt down on one knee to take the measurement of my sister's lower legs. I reached out and placed one hand on the back side of my sisters leg, and as I did that, something went through my body. I wasn't sure what it was, but it was an awesome feeling. My hand lingered on my sister's leg much longer than necessary, and she noticed.

"How long does it take to do a stupid measurement?"

"I have to get a sense of, ah, a sense of the tone of your legs as well as the measurements, so I have to feel them too," I replied, trying to think of something that might explain why I was feeling her leg.

I did this to both of her lower legs, wrote down the measurements, and then went on to her thighs.

When I looked up at my sister, my face was about even with her crotch, and I saw the most beautiful camel toe ever. Her lips were protruding under her leotards, making a distinctive and visible outline of her pussy. I also noticed that her leotards were tight against her skin, signaling that she had little if any pubic hair. The things you notice when you're taking someone's measurements. 

I didn't move my hands to my sister's thighs, I slid them up her legs, feeling the softness of her skin as I felt my way up to the bottom of her leotard, which was about one-third of the way down her thigh.

As I slid my hands up her leg, I noticed that she broke out in goose bumps, indicating that she was enjoying this as much as I was. 

When I got my hands to the middle of her thighs, I massaged them for a second or two. 

"I just need to get a sense of the muscle tone of your thighs," I said, barely able to get the words out.

I knew that I was going to have a problem now, because as I felt my sister's thighs, I also started to get hard, and there was no fucking way I was going to be able to hide an erection in the exercise pants I was wearing. 

Slowly, I took my tape measure and slid it around my sister's right thigh, measured it, and then recorded the measurement. I repeated the process with her left thigh, although I took a few seconds to massage it as I did the other. God her skin felt so fucking good to me. I had never felt any part of my sister's body before; and never wanted to before this. This was unfolding to be the most erotic measurements I've ever taken. I felt her left thigh, front and back, and massaged it a little and looked like I was studying it, which I was; not to measuring anything but for the sensation it was giving me. 

I then decided to take another measurement, one not called for on the form, and one that I had never before taken. I slid my hands up to Tami's upper thigh, just below her crotch and slowly felt the innermost part of her thigh all the was around to the lower edge of her buttocks, taking time to feel them too, and measuring each side. 

Before I moved on, I took another look at my sister's camel toe, and I swear that it was more visible now, and I could also see a little wet spot right in the center.

I stood up and quickly moved behind my sister so that she wouldn't see the protrusion between my legs. I told her to let her arms reax because I needed to measure her hips.

I placed my hands on my sister's sides, just below her arm pits, and let them slide down to her waist, and then let them glide along her hips to the sides of her ass. I let them linger there for a moment, gently massaging and feeling her as If I were feeling for muscle tone. 

"Nice," I said, almost beneath my breath.

"What's nice?" My sister asked.

"You're gluteal muscle tone. Very firm, which it should be at your age."

"So, that's a good thing, right?" she asked.

"Oh yes, that's a good thing, Tami. A very good thing."

I took out the tape and slid it around my sister's hips to get a measurement at the widest point. Pulling the tape around her hips, I slid my hands slowly around, feeling her ass as I took the measurement. 

I then let my hands glide up the sides of my sisters hips to her waist. I took my hands and gently felt her waist, all the way around, and then took the measurement. By this time sweat was beginning to bead above my upper lip, and my cock was straining for release from my shorts. I didn't know if I would be able to finish taking the rest of her measurements.

"What's next?" Tami asked. By the tone of her voice, I could tell that this was a turn on for her, too.

"I need to measure your abdomen, your chest, your upper arms and your neck," I replied.

"Do you take this long with everyone you measure?" she asked.

"No, but I want to do a, you know, a thorough job with you, Tami," I replied. 

"Thanks. This isn't as bad as I thought it would be; it's, ah, quite, ah, pleasant."

"Ok, stretch your arms straight out as I measure your abs. Breathe in," I instructed my sister.

I let both hands gently trace around my sister's abdomen. At this point I wished that she didn't have on a leotard so I could see and feel the softness of her flesh, but this would have to do. 

"We'll need to get you something else to work out in, sis. After we finish I'll take you over to the work out gear section and get you some things."

"What's wrong with what I have on?" she asked. 

"Nothing, but I really need to take the measurements against your skin, and I can't get to it with what you have on."

"What do most of the girls wear to work out?"

"We sell a work out sports bra that's popular, and run up shorts to go with them. We also have a line of Ziba shorts that would look especially good on you," I replied. "You would also look great in a pair of our fitted workout shorts."

"Sounds expensive."

"Tell you what, when we finish we'll check out some things. Since it didn't cost me anything but my time for your birthday gift, it will be my treat. Besides, my employee discount cuts the price in half."

Tami we excited about this, and turned around and threw her arms around my neck and gave me a kiss on the cheek. 

"Thank you so much, Jason, you're so sweet!" 

Tami held the hug a little longer than I expected and as I felt her body pressing against mine I was certain that she could feel my erection as it was pressing against her crotch. 

"We, ah, we need to get back to the measurements," I said to my sister as I took her arms from around my neck and turned her around so that she was again facing away from me.

"Where were we?" I asked, looking at my clip board.

"You were about to measure my abs," Tami reminded me, "but you said that you needed to do it against my skin. I don't have anything on under the leotard, so we can get that measurement the next time if you want."

"No, I'll go ahead and get it and the rest of them now, and we'll take them again the next time." That seemed to please her, and it pleased me as well. I didn't want to stop taking her measurements just yet.

I reached around to the front of my sisters abs, and gently massaged them from behind, feeling from her belly button to the bottom of her breasts through the thin fabric of her leotards. After I softly felt and massaged this area, I put my tape around her abs and took the measurement, writing it down on my sheet.

"Now, your chest," I announced as I ran my hands back up my sister's sides to the soft place below her arm pit where her tits begin. My sister's leotard had a tank top, so her skin was visible at this point, and up a couple of inches on her breast when her arms were extended. Reaching out with my finger tips, I gently touched this soft area of my sister's flesh, and let my fingers glide along the open part of her tank top, tracing a semi circle around the sides of her breasts. Again, I noticed an outbreak of goose bumps on my sister's flesh which coincided with a spurt of growth in my erection as I felt this soft area of my sister's flesh. I let my fingers linger here as I slowly moved then in a small circular motion, letting them slide a little further toward the nipple, causing a rush of panic that maybe I had taken this a little too far, so I immediately brought my hands back to her sides, causing a rapid exhale from Tami, acknowledging that the rubbing was effecting her as me. 

I took out the tape and placed it around Tami's chest area, noticing that her nipples were now quite erect. I pulled the tape around to her back and took her measurement.

"What do you think?" she asked. 

"About what?" I answered.

"My breasts, stupid."

"I think they're beautiful," I said without thinking.

"I mean what do you think about their size?"

"Honestly, I'm more of an ass man. I always say that when it comes to breasts, more than a mouth full's wasted anyway." 

"Well, mine are hardly a mouth full, are they?"

"I haven't paid that much attention,"

"Well, you said that they're beautiful, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did, and through the leotard they look beautiful, Tami. I've always thought you're beautiful and that goes for your body as well."

"Really? You think I'm beautiful?"

"Yeah, I do, and lets get on with the measurements, we're almost finished."

"Ok, and then we talk."

"Only two more measurements, your neck and upper arms, then we're finished."

I placed my hands around Tami's neck, and gently rubbed from the base of her neck to the front, and down her chest to the beginning of her breast, again sliding my fingers along the soft flesh of her breasts toward her nipples, going about half way.

I pulled my fingers back, causing Tami to shiver.

"Christ, that feels good. Do you do that when you give a massage?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"I want one."

"We have to finish the measurements," I replied, taking the tape measure and placing it around her neck and recording the measurement.

"Only one more to go," I announced.

"Let your hands relax by your side as I measure your upper arm," I instructed.

I placed my hands on my sister's shoulders and massaged them for a few seconds before letting my hands glide down her arms to her finger tips, and then started moving my hands back up her arms, feeling her arms as I did so. I got to her upper arms and gave them a quick massage as I felt her flesh. As I felt her arms, my fingers also glazed across the sides of my sister's breasts, causing another stir in my groin, and by this time I was afraid that I might shoot my load in my pants. Taking my sister's measurements was a much more erotic experience than I thought it would be.

I took out the tape and measured both upper arms and recorded the measurements, and then let my hands slide down my sister's arms to her finger tips and back to her shoulders. I then let them slide down the inside of her arms while brushing against the side of her breasts on the way down and again on the way back up.

I stood behind my sister looking at her, and for the first time in my life began to have sexual feelings for her. I mean, I wanted to undress her right then. It was a very awkward moment as neither of us moved or said anything for about ten seconds, which is a long time. 

Tami slowly turned around, with her face so close to mine I could feel her warm breath, and our lips were almost touching.

In a soft and seductive voice, Tami asked, "What do you, umm, what do you suggest we do now?"

Reaching up and placing my hands on her hips, knowing that this could soon get well out of hand, I replied, "I suggest we go look at some work out clothes and then I take you home."

"Ok. Can you stay for dinner? Mom suggested that I ask. She would like to have you for dinner, Jace." 

Jace. My sister hadn't called me that in over a year, ever since I left home. She used that name when she wanted something, you know, when she was turning on her charms trying to get me to take her to the mall or something.

"I'd like that, too," she continued, not moving her face from mine. I was sure that she was going to kiss me, and I thought I was going to kiss her, but it didn't happen. Yet, anyway.

"Let's go look at some of those work out clothes you suggested. Maybe I can try on something and see how it looks."

We left my office and walked out to the gym. I let Tami go before me so I could make a few adjustments before I left my office, trying desperately to hide my erection. That might be difficult to explain, coming out of my office with my sister with me sporting an erection. 




Tami



We walked over to the workout gear section and looked through the women's clothing area. 

"Pick out something for me, Jace," Tami said. "You know, like a birthday present, and I'll wear them tomorrow."

I looked through the selection, and found the ones that I liked on the other girls who worked out here. I picked out a small, black sports bra that had several thin straps across the back rather than the one large one. I thought that would look good on her. I also picked out a pair of black Nike compression shorts and a pair of loose fitting shorts. 

"How about these?" I asked.

"They look great," Tami replied.

"Go ahead and pick out a couple more tops if you want, and anything else to go with it, all my birthday present to you."

Tami picked out another sports bra, one that was more skimpy than the one I picked out. 

"You may have to wear a T-shirt over that one," I said, laughing.

"I have one that's midriff; that would go well with it I think. Will they let me wear this top without the shirt?" she asked. 

"Oh yeah, we'll let you wear anything you buy here. Several of the girls wear them; you'll see that once your workouts begin."

I took her items over to the counter and asked the sales girl to put them on my account. I didn't have the funds for them now, but would tomorrow. I hadn't planned on these purchases, but wanted to get some things for Tami, and get her out of those damn leotards. Yeah, it was going to be fun training my sister. 

"Are you able to eat dinner with me and mom?" she asked.

"Sure, I don't have any clients tonight, so I'm free," I replied.

Tami called mom on her cell phone and told her that we'd be home shortly and that I was staying for dinner.

After the phone call, Tami insisted on trying on the sports bra and shorts I selected, and took them into the locker room. I wasn't sure if she would come back wearing them, but in a few minutes she returned wearing the sports bra and the compression shorts I picked out. 

"What do you think?" she asked. 

I couldn't tell her what I really thought, because she looked so fucking sexy in that outfit. God, she looked good. I had to keep reminding myself that this was my kid sister, but she didn't look like a kid anymore. 

"They, ah, they look fine," I replied.

"Only fine? I was hoping for something more."

"Well, to be honest, you look very sexy in that outfit, Tami."

"Thank you!" she said as she hugged me again, thanking me several times for all the attention I was giving her.

"I'll wear these tomorrow, if you think they'll be ok."

"Yeah, they'll be ok. Do they feel comfortable?"

"Yeah, but a little more revealing than I had anticipated." Tami looked around the room at the other women, and continued, "But not any more revealing that what the other girls are wearing."

"You'll see them dressed all ways around here, but I think you'll fit right in, if that's what you want," I replied. 

"Yeah, I think these will do," Tami replied as she turned to walk back into the locker room. 

As she walked away, I couldn't help but look at her round ass, which was her best asset. My eyes followed her all the way to the door. Yeah, this is going to be interesting. Tami, while needing to put on a little weight, really looked good.

A few minutes later she returned and we left for the house. All the way home she thanked me stating that she was really looking forward to getting back in shape. Then she looked over at me and said, "I think it's going to be nice, you know, spending all this time with you. I really enjoyed today. Thank you again, Jace."

We pulled into the drive way and walked into the house. 

Mom had dinner ready, and the three of us ate together, making small talk. Mom wanted to know about what we did at the gym and what our plans were, and we told her that Tami would work out at least four nights a week, for about an hour each night. Mom talked over her work schedule, noting that there were several afternoons that she would still be working and that I'd have to give Tami a ride, which I indicated wasn't a problem. She talked about the following week, noting that she had to work night shift, and asking if Tami could spend a couple nights at my place, with me driving her to school the following morning. This wasn't an unusual request, as Tami had spent several nights at my apartment, sleeping on the sofa, with me taking her to school the following morning. This was never a problem, although I wondered if things would be different after our experience in my office today, and with us spending so much time together. I was starting to get feelings toward my sister, feelings I'd never had before, and feelings I didn't quite understand. 

"Yeah, that'll be ok," I replied, "that is, if its ok with Tami."

"Sure, its always fun spending time at your place," Tami replied while giving me a sexy grin. I was beginning to wonder if maybe Tami was feeling the same way about me. "Maybe I could just stay with you all week."

"Would she be able to do that?" mom asked. "It sure would help me out."

"Yeah, that wont be a problem at all," I replied. 

After dinner, Tami and I did the dishes for mom, who went to the TV room to watch the news.

"This is really going to be great, Jace," Tami commented once mom left the room. "I'm really excited about this!" she said as she kissed me again on the cheek. "Today was really nice. Thank you for taking so much time with me, and making me feel comfortable."

"Yeah, I'm really looking forward to this, too," I replied. I thought to myself that I was really looking forward to being with my sister, much more than I had originally thought.

"I want to try on the other things, too. Will you tell me how they look?" She asked. 

"Sure," I replied, eager to see Tami in the other sports bra she got, as well as the other shorts.

"Let's go upstairs and I'll try them on," she said, taking my hand and leading me upstairs. The second floor consisted of two bedrooms and a bathroom, which Tami and I had shared our whole lives. Tami went into her room, and I went into my old room, which hadn't changed since I moved out. While she was gone, I looked around my room, noticing my wrestling trophies and the many team pictures mom had hung on the walls. It was only about five minutes when Tami came through the door wearing the more skimpy sports bra she picked out, along with the other shorts.

"What do you think of these?" she asked as she paraded herself around my room, showing off her new outfit.

"God, Tami, you look fantastic!" I replied. She did, too. Although her breasts were small, the skimpy sports bra held them nicely, exposing more flesh than I though she would be comfortable with. The shorts, while more baggy than the fitted ones, were a little short, showing off her long, sexy legs.

"Are you sure this bra isn't too revealing?"

"Not for me, it isn't. You really look great!"

"Thank you. Just think how good I'll look after three months of training!"

Tami strutted back to her room and changed into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt before returning. I was sitting on the side of the bed when she returned, and Tami came over and sat down beside me.

"Can I ask you something, Jace?" 

"Sure," I replied.

"Do you really not mind if I stay at your place next week, or did you just say that for mom's sake?"

"No, I really meant it. I think we'll have a good time next week."

"Can I ask you something else?"

"Sure."

"Do you think that one night you might, you know, give me a massage? It really felt good when you were, you know, measuring me today."

"Yeah, I can practice on you. I can't give massages at the gym until I get my certification, so we'd have to do it at my place."

"That would be fine," she replied, "it might even be better at your place."

I didn't ask what she meant by that, but inside, I agreed that it would be better at my place. 

Tami and I sat on the bed for a few minutes without saying anything; just looking into each other's eyes, which was causing me to get a bit tense for some reason.

"Well, I better get going," I insisted, fearful that I might try something I would later regret. What I wanted to do was to lay her back on the bed and make love to her, but I didn't want things to get carried away, especially with mom downstairs; and I wasn't sure how Tami felt about that, but something told me that she wanted the same thing. 

"Yeah, it might be good for you to go now," she said, with a hint of reluctance in her voice. "We'll be together all next week and all."

I stood up and Tami stood with me, put her arms around my waist and leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, but very close to my lips. I held her for a few seconds before saying, "Yeah, I better be going. I'll pick you up tomorrow at four." Tami released me and I made my way toward the door. 

Tami went out with me, and walked me to my car. 

"See you tomorrow for my first work out," she said as I got into my car and drove away.

All the way home I couldn't get my sister out of my mind. I kept thinking about the way she looked in her outfits, the way she hugged me, and especially that last kiss, which was nearly on the mouth. I let my hand drop to my crotch, and felt my rock hard cock pressing against my shorts. I couldn't wait go get home and find some release.

When I got to my apartment, I went to my bedroom, undressed, and fell back on my bed nude. With the image of my sister wearing her new outfit in my mind, I started jacking off. In my mind I was measuring her again, feeling her thighs, arms, legs, and breasts. I beat off faster, and soon shot my load all over my chest. It was the first time I had cum thinking of my sister, but it wouldn't be the last.

After I showered, I went back to bed. I turned on my television and watched some sitcom, but still couldn't get the image of my sister out of my mind, looking forward to seeing her again tomorrow afternoon.

I slept well all night, and when I woke up the next morning, I still had that image of Tami in my mind. I felt ecstatic and sick at the same time. Ecstatic because I was looking forward to seeing Tami again; sick, because I was looking forward to seeing Tami again. While I wanted her, I felt so fucking guilty about the thoughts I was having of her. I knew it wasn't right, but I also felt as though I had no control over it. None at all. I couldn't get my sister out of my mind, and I kept remembering how good it was to feel her body while I was taking her measurements. All kinds of thought were rushing through my mind. It was weird, knowing that my thoughts were wrong, so very wrong, yet at the same time, wanting her so fucking much. I decided that I was just going to see what developed. 

I got up early and checked my schedule for the day on my iPhone. Mike is not only the wrestling coach at the high school, he's also the tech specialist, and he wrote an app for the gym. Clients use it to keep track of their work outs, and employees use it to check schedules and receive messages and alerts. It opened to today's date, Tuesday, March 3. I noticed that I have a full schedule today, five clients during the day and two this evening, not counting Tami. I also had an alert that I take my final exam tomorrow for my massage therapy class. I also noticed a message from Mike. I clicked on it, and Mike said that he's arranged for me to do my practical work at the gym, which means that we'll be offering free massages for the next couple of weeks. I need to get twenty hours of practical experience before I receive my final certification, and Mike applied to have me do it at the gym. I can give massages with the provisional certification, but can't charge anything. Mike said that if his application was accepted he would offer free massages until I get the twenty hours and since he's a certified massage therapist, he can act as my supervisor. The clients don't have to pay for the massage, but they can give a tip if they want, and Mike thought I might be able to work up a client base, plus earn a little extra money at the same time. The gym has an upscale clientele, and he thought I would do well with the tips. 

I got my shower, and yes, I beat off again thinking of my sexy sister. I dressed, ate a bowl of muesli, and headed off to the gym. I completed the paperwork for Tami's membership and work out routine and looked it over. It called for a three days of stretching instruction and light workouts for her to get used to the equipment, with full workouts beginning next week. I noted a few exercises on her client sheet, and then worked the floor until my first client arrived. 

About mid morning I received a text from Tami saying that she was looking forward to the gym tonight and asking if I could pick her up at the house. I replied that I'd be there around 4:15, to get back by her 4:30 workout, which was good with her.

I went through two clients in the early morning. They were well into their routine, so I could do two, maybe three at a time. After my first two clients I did some paperwork, and then my third client, a newbie, arrived. She was in her mid twenties, and a good looker. I gave her the same tour I gave Tami, except for the women's locker room, which was full at the time. I had one of the assistants give her that tour. Then it was time for her measurements. 

The entire time I was taking her measurements I was lost in thought about my experience with Tami last night. While this client was extremely hot, and even asked what I was doing this evening hinting that she'd like to go out, it wasn't the same as taking my sister's measurements. One thing about being a trainer, I get hit on all the time, by guys and girls. If not for Tami, I'd be going out with this one for sure. 

I took her to the lounge and talked through her goals, gave some advice, and completed her worksheet, having her sign the contract. Then we walked through a basic routine. At the conclusion of her workout, I took her over to the workout apparel section and showed her some of the things we had. She bought several items, which was good because I receive a commission on all sales I make. She bought enough to almost pay for the items I had on my account from last night.

The day went by quickly. I finished with two other clients; but the last one was a no show. Sometimes they forget, sometimes they change their minds. The good thing was that they forfeit their payment if they're a no show, so I get paid just the same. If it turns out to be an emergency we let them make it up.

Soon it was 4:00 so I headed over to pick up Tami. She was waiting for me, and came running out of the house wearing the fitted shorts I gave her last night, with her midriff shirt covering the top, but exposing her abs, which looked very sexy. She was also wearing the same pink sweater she had on last night. Being early March, it was still a little cool out, even for the South.

She got in the car, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and asked, "What are we doing today, Jace?"

She used that name again, Jace. She really was enjoying our time together.

"I ran your information this morning, and we'll start out with some basic exercises and stretches. You need to get used to a new routine, so we'll take it easy the first week. Next week we'll begin on the machines."

"Sounds good to me," she replied. 

Looking her over as we drove to the gym, I realized again how sexy my sister was. God, she was beautiful.

Tami seemed to be a little tense at first, but soon warmed up to the place. Noticing the dress of the other female clients, Tami finally removed her shirt, revealing that she was wearing the smaller of the sports bras she bought, and she sure looked good in it. 

We did several stretching exercises, with me assisting a little more than necessary, but I couldn't keep my hands off of her. I stood behind her while instructing her in the proper routine for squats, keeping my hands on her waist, sliding my fingers along her sides as she went down and came back up. 

Then I had her lie down on the mat and instructed her in some resistance exercises for her legs, keeping my hands on her legs and thighs, offering some resistance. A few times my hands slid up her thighs. Tami smiled at me every time this happened. God, I was enjoying this.

After completing several more exercises, we had some time left, so I let her try out a piece of the equipment. I put her on the Pec Deck machine, telling her that it would build up her pec muscles, thus increasing the appearance of her breasts. She liked this. She sat down and placed her arms against the pads. Although it was a tight fit, I sat behind her, instructing her how to use the machine, and with little resistance, took her through a trial run. She got the hang of it quickly, so I had her do a set with slightly more resistance, still seated behind her. Before Tami started, she slid back a little on the seat, so that my crotch was tight against her ass. She had to notice the growing bulge in my shorts, because she squirmed a little against me, causing even further stimulation. 

"I could get used to this," she said as she finished.

"Yeah, it's top equipment," I replied. 

Tami looked back at me with a sexy grin and said, "I wasn't talking about the equipment."

"Let's try another machine," I suggested, avoiding her comment for the moment.

I put her on the Lat Pull Down machine to develop her upper arms, and showed her how to use it. Again, I used no resistance so she could get used to the motion. Even though there was no resistance, she could feel the effect of the workout.

When she finished, Tami commented that she was feeling it already and asked if I could see any difference in her.

"It doesn't work that fast, Tami, but soon you'll be able to feel and see a difference. There are several other machines we'll use, but not today, time's up."

"Already? It seems like we just got started!"

"Time does pass by quickly during a workout," I replied.

"Could you rub my shoulders a little?" she asked, adding, "it would make them feel a lot better."

"I can't do that out here, but next week, if I pass my exam tomorrow, I'll be able to give you a massage. How'd you like that?" I asked.

"That'll be great, but I hurt now. How about if we go into your office for a few minutes before we leave? I'm really sore and all."

"Ok," I replied, "but it'll have to be quick. I have a client at 6:30 and another at 7:30. Then I have to go home and study for my exam in the morning."

"Let's go then," she said as she got off the machine and started for my office.

Tami and I walked to my office, and after we entered, I closed the door behind us. The door had a frosted glass in it, so it offers a bit of privacy.

"Where do you hurt?" I asked.

"The shoulders and my arms; they don't hurt bad, but I can feel the effect of the machines."

Standing behind my sister, I started rubbing her shoulders and upper arms. My cock was growing as I felt my sister's skin. I hate to admit that I was overcome with passion for my sister, and continued to struggle with the thoughts that were going through my head. I rubbed her shoulders and upper arms, and the turned my attention to her neck, and started rubbing it along with her shoulders. As if they had a mind of their own, my fingers started inching their way down my sisters chest as I rubbed from the back of her neck to her chest area.

"God, you're good at this," Tami said as I continued.

When my hands went to the upper part of her chest, Tami leaned back with her head against my chest and softly moaned. I went down further, feeling the soft puffiness of her chest at the top of her breasts. My fingers slid under the top of her sports bra, inching their way over her breasts toward her protruding nipples. I continued slowly massaging my sister's chest, and finally felt the hardness of her nipples beneath the tips of my fingers, and slowly slid them around to the sides of her breasts, and then back to the top. I was now giving my sister a full breast massage, and I could feel the pre cum leaking from the head of my cock, but I couldn't stop as I increased the pressure of my fingers against her small breasts. 




Tami



"That feels so good, Jace. Don't stop."

I now had both of her breasts in the palms of my hands, rubbing them softly underneath her top, lost in my lust for my sister. For the first time, I was felling my sister's full breasts, wanting to remove her top and shorts, throw her across my desk, and fuck the living hell out of her; but I didn't dare go any further. It wasn't right, although it felt so good. 

After massaging her breasts for several more minutes to the barely audible sound of her soft moans, I finally said, "I think I need to take you home, Tami," as I pulled my hands from her breasts, embarrassed by what I'd just done. 

Tami turned around, and I noticed that her face was flushed, indicating her state of arousal. Tami leaned into me, and I expected another kiss on the cheek, but she pressed her lips to mine and gave me a soft kiss, sliding her tongue along my lips. 

"That was awesome. Thank you."

Looking into my sister's eyes, I couldn't resist, so I brought my hands to the back of her head and pulled her in for another kiss, this time sliding my tongue into her mouth and kissing her passionately. After several seconds, Tami broke the kiss, pulled her face back and said in a soft voice, "Yeah, maybe we'd better go."

It was an awkward moment as we both realized that we'd crossed a line in our relationship, and that once we crossed that line, things would never be the same between us.

Neither of us said a word on our way home. I thought that I had gone too far with my sister and was overcome with guilt. When we got to the house, before she got out of the car, I said, "We need to talk about what happened, Tami."

"Yeah, we do, but not now, Jace. Not now." 

She leaned over and gave me a quick peck on the lips, and then got out of the car and walked to the house. I went back to the gym to compose myself before my next client arrived. I went straight to my office, closed my door, and sat at my desk, thinking about what had happened, and was overcome with a sense of guilt. 

I took my phone and sent my sister a text message that simply said, "I'm sorry."

Tami replied, "It wasn't your fault."

"Yes it was, Tami."

"No it wasn't. I wanted you as much as you wanted me. I'm the one that suggested we go to your office."

"But I took advantage of you."

"No, I took advantage of you."

"Do you hate me?" I asked, still feeling that I did something wrong with my sister.

"I could never hate you Jace. I love you."

I stared at the text for several minutes, until I heard a knock on my door.

"Yes," I yelled.

"Your client is here."

"I'll be right out," I replied as I got up and walked out to meet my client.

The next two hours flew by, and after finishing with my two evening clients, I drove home to do some last minute studying for my massage therapy final tomorrow. 

It was difficult studying with the thoughts of Tami rushing through my mind. I tried to rationalize my actions, but still felt a strong sense of guilt for what happened, along with some shame. I felt that I had betrayed my sister's trust in me, as I am three years older. I couldn't get her out of my mind.

I got back to my studies, reviewing my material. Much of it I learned in the course work to be a trainer, so it really was a review. I was deeply concentrating on my material when my iPhone indicated another text from Tami. I looked at the clock and noticed it was after 11:00.

The text message read, "Call me." That was it, just to call her. 

I was nervous as I called my sister, not knowing what to expect. When she answered, she seemed normal. 

"Can you pick me up tomorrow for my workout? Mom wont be home."

"Ah, sure, no problem. Is that all you wanted?"

"Yeah, that's all. I'll see you around four then. Love you," and she ended the call. 

She didn't sound upset or anything, so I was relieved. I studied for another hour or so, and then went to bed as it was going to be an early morning and I wanted to be fresh for my exam.

I got up early and headed out to the gym to do a few things before I had to leave to take my final. I felt confident as I entered the room for my final exam, and finished it in about forty-five minutes. I handed it to the instructor, who ran it trough a grading machine. With a wide grin, he said, "Congratulations, Jason! You're a massage therapist. Here's your provisional certificate. Once you finish your twenty hours under Mike's supervision, you'll be fully certified!"

I was really excited, and immediately sent Tami a text, although I didn't know if she would be able to read it during school. 

"I passed! I'm a massage therapist!" Almost instantly I received a reply.

"Awesome! Congrats! Does that mean I get a massage tonight?"

"Sure, I'll reserve a room for 5:30 if one's available!"

"Great. See you later!"

I then sent a group text to mom, Mike, a few friend and the staff at the gym announcing my good news, and began hearing back from them immediately.

I drove over to the gym to complete my day. As I walked past the massage rooms, I noticed that someone had already placed my name officially on one of the doors. I now had my own massage room. 

I went to the front desk, and noticed that the receptionist had already placed a notice and sign up sheet on the counter announcing that I would be scheduling free massages, with the notation that, 'tips are appreciated." 

"Any interest yet?" I asked.

"I just now put the sign up, but I'm sure there will be. Are these time slots correct?" she asked.

"Yeah, they look fine. Just remember to strike through a time slot if I schedule a client, that's all," I said as I scanned for the 5:30 time slot, which was open. I wrote Tami's name on the line.

"Your sister's going to be your first massage?" she asked.

"Yeah, unless someone signs up for something before her," I replied. "She wants to get one tonight, and it'll be good practice for me."

I met with a couple of clients that that morning and afternoon, and worked around the gym, setting up my massage room. The room was fairly large with a massage table in the center. There was a counter at the side with heated massage oil and aromatherapy candles, a rack of towels, heated, of course, and a changing room. Our policy is that the client can get comfortable. I was told that many will strip down to their underwear, but most will strip completely down and will be covered by only a towel. Should be interesting.

I looked at the clock and noticed it was almost time to leave to pick up Tami. I went to the front desk and noticed that three people had signed up for massages tomorrow, but none, other than Tami, for tonight. That was fine with me. I didn't have any clients this evening, so after I finished with Tami, I was done for the day.

I left to get Tami, and when I arrived at the house, just like yesterday, she came running out, looking eager to get started on another work out.

"I'm so pumped for this," she exclaimed as she got in the car. "I'm looking for a great work out followed by a relaxing massage, brother!"

"Well, I can provide both!"

"I'm so excited for you! Do you have anyone signed up for a massage yet, other than me?"

"Yeah, I have three for tomorrow already. I'm sure the schedule will fill up quickly. Like, who can pass up a free massage?"

"I know I can't! I'm looking forward to mine!"

"Good, but you have a workout to go through first, you know."

As we arrived at the gym, Tami jumped out of the car and headed for the front door.

"What's your rush?" I asked.

"The sooner we get started, the sooner I get my massage," she replied.

We went inside and I got Tami's workout sheet and we started in on the exercises just like yesterday. I helped her with some, but was not as hands on as I was yesterday, wanting my sister to have her space. After about twenty minutes of exercises, we moved on to the machines. I started her on the Pec Deck machines, stressing the proper technique, trying to be professional. I added a little more weight than yesterday, and had her do three sets of fifteen reps. It took her a while to complete them, and she was a bit worn out when she finished.

"What does this work on?" she asked.

"This machine develops your pectoral muscles or chest muscles," I replied.

"Oh, yeah, the breast enhancer machine!"

"Sure," I laughed, "if that's what you want to call it." 

We moved on to the Lat Pull Down machine, and I added a little weight, explained the routine again, and had her do three sets of fifteen reps, like the other machine. 

"This machine will help develop your upper arm muscles. It will firm them up."

Tami was a trooper, and did the three sets in no time. I had her relax a few minutes and get a drink of water before we went on to the final machine for the day.

"This is the abdominal crunch machine," I said as I sat on the machine to demonstrate. "You place your forearms on the pads, like this, and push forward and down with your chest, and then come slowly back up to the beginning position. You have negative resistance on the way down, and positive resistance on the way back up, but you have to come back up slowly to take advantage of the resistance. That way you work your abs and your lower back muscles."

I got out of the seat and offered it to Tami, who sat down. Taking her arms, I placed her forearms on the pads, and held my hand on her back as she pressed forward and down.

"Good job, now, come back up very slowly," I instructed, and she did.

"Coming back up is harder than going down," she replied.

"It is now, but it will get easier. I'm not adding any weight to this one tonight I want you to get used to the motion. Do three sets of fifteen reps with no resistance."

Tami did the machine perfectly, and was proud of herself.

"How many machines are there in all?" she asked.

"We have ten machines in the circuit, and you'll be using most of them eventually. Typically, you'll come in and do your stretches, and then do about three sets of fifteen reps on each of the machines until you complete all of them. That way you work all the parts of your body."

"Is that all there is to it?"

"No, there's much more to it than that. We also have the free weights, and I'll be working with you on them in a couple of weeks, after you've mastered the machines. We also have some specialty machines and some other routines I'll show you."

"It'll take three months just to figure everything out!"

"No, it wont. In another week you'll have the machines mastered. You already know how to do three of them. On your chart you will note the weight you use, and I'll advise you when to add weight. It's complicated at first, but you'll get the hang of it soon. How do you feel?"

"Sore. Is it time for my massage?"

"Yeah, we can do that now, if you want."

"I want!"

I gave Tami a towel to wipe off her face, as she was sweating a little from her workout, and we walked over to the massage room.

"Neat, brother, you already have your name on the door!"

"Yeah, I think Mike had something to do with that. It was like that when I got back from the exam."

I led Tami into the room, closing the door behind us.

"What' all this?" Tami asked, looking at the table with the massage oil, heaters, and the aromatherapy candles.

Those are mood candles and massage oil. You can read through the chart and pick the aroma that matches your mood. I light the candle while you're changing and the aroma fills the air, setting the mood for the massage. You can also buy the candles in the retail area if you want one. I can also dim the lights if needed.

Tami looked through the chart for a couple minutes, studying it closely, and then gave me a candle to light. As she turned to walk into the dressing room, she seductively said, "Dim the lights, Jace, and light the candle. I want this to be a good one."

I looked at the candle, noticing that it was Sandalwood. I looked at the chart, and read the description. Sandalwood: This sexy smell can reportedly make one shed their sexual inhibitions. So if you're looking to spice up the bedroom and get your partner to try something out of the box, this is the scent for you! 

"Oh. My. God," I said to myself. This should be interesting.

I lit the candle and dimmed the lights, and waited for my sister to come back into the room.

Wrapped in a towel, Tami came out of the dressing room. 

"I didn't now what to wear underneath, so I just took everything off. Is that all right?"

"Ah, yeah, you can wear anything you want, or nothing at all. It's up to you."

"Good," she replied. " I, ah, I didn't want to get oil all over my new workout clothes," she said with a sexy expression.

"That'll be fine."

"How do we do this?" she asked, "I've never had a professional massage before."

"Well," I said almost stuttering at the sight of my sister, with the thought of her naked body under the towel, "you lie down on the table, face down, and place your head over the hole at the top. That allows you to breathe easily while you have the massage. You then undo the towel and I make sure it covers your backside during the massage, you know, for modesty." 

Tami climbed onto the massage table, loosened her towel, and placed her head over the hole in the table. 

"Do your thing, brother."

Tami's towel was pulled up to just below her ass cheeks. I reached around the towel and garbed the edges and gently pulled it out from under her. I placed it over her body so that her ass was covered, but only her ass.

I got a bottle of the heated massage oil, and poured some of it on her upper arms, and began massaging them. 

"God, that candle smells good, don't you think?" Tami asked.

"Yeah, it smells really good," I replied.

"I thought I picked out an appropriate scent, don't you think?" she asked, continuing, "I think I'll buy a couple of them to take with me."

I continued rubbing the oil into her arms, working my way down to her hands and fingers, gently at first, but increasing pressure as I continued.

"God, this feels fucking great, Jace."

"I'm glad you like it, sis."

Each time I moved my hands down her arms, I gently ran my thumbs along her bare sides, touching the sides of her flattened breasts with each pass. I continued working her arms for several minutes, and then moved on to her shoulders and neck. To do this, I moved to the top of the table, reaching over her to get the best angle for this area of her body.

I spent several minutes on her neck and shoulders, giving her a good massage, to her soft moans indicating her pleasure. 

I then started massaging her back, as far down as I could reach from this position. After several minutes working this area, I moved to the side of the table to reach her lower back, working the area from her shoulders to her lower back, to the very top of her buttocks. Her soft moans continued to confirm that I was doing a good job on her. 

I continued massaging her lower back, all the way down to the point where her ass cheeks were visible. I massaged the top of her cheeks and around the sided of her ass to her legs.

"Jace, would you do something for me?"

"What, Tami?"

"I know this will sound freaky, and you don't have to if you don't want to, but would you rub my ass too?"

I didn't respond, but when I rubbed up my sisters thighs, I continued across her ass cheeks to the base of her back, and back down again.

"You can just remove the towel if you want; that is, if it's in the way or anything."

"You don't mind?" I asked.

"Not if you don't think its too weird or anything."

"Not at all," I replied as I picked up the towel and tossed it on the counter behind me.

As I massaged my sister's lower back and ass, I was amazed at how beautiful she looked nude. God, she looked good. She really had the perfect ass. I focused on her lower back and ass for the next several minutes, giving her ass a thorough massage. I poured a liberal amount of oil on her cheeks, watching it run down between them, soaking her entire anal area. As I massaged her cheeks, I let my thumbs slide between them, pulling them apart, exposing and touching her small pink pucker, causing her to moan louder.

"You like that?" I asked, although the answer was obvious. 

"Oh, yeah, that feels so good."

I could feel the pre cum oozing out of my inflated cock as I gave her an anal massage, applying pressure with my thumbs against her pucker, entering slightly. Every time I passed my thumbs over her anus, Tami lifted up, causing them to enter deeper into her. 

I continued working her buttocks and anus, and then moved down to her thighs. Her thighs were so sensitive and soft. I rubbed up the back of her thighs, and down the sides, repeating this multiple times before moving to her inner thighs, repeating the process. 

When I massaged up her inner thighs, Tami spread her legs a little allowing more room to roam. I massaged her inner thighs around the base of her ass, and then to her beautiful cheeks, repeating the process, while Tami moaned soft consent to all I was doing. 

I then focused my attention to her lower thighs, legs, and ankles, giving them a complete massage. Then I started at her feet and gently massaged my way back up her legs, thighs, ass, back, and to her shoulders and the back of her neck. Looking at the clock I noticed that thirty minutes had already passed, so I asked her if she wanted me to do the front.

"Oh, god, please," she replied as she started to turn over. I grabbed the towel and started to hold it up to provide some modesty, as instructed, but Tami said, "You really don't need that, Jace," so I tossed it back on the counter.

As Tami turned over, the first thing I noticed was that I was right when I measured her, her pussy was bald. Completely bald. There wasn't a pubic hair to be found on her body. Anywhere.

I started her frontal massage at her feet and slowly moved my way up her body. I massaged her toes, feet, ankles, legs, and then her thighs, my favorite part. God I loved massaging her thighs. I gave them a good working over, using every technique I knew to prolong it, and then made my way to her upper thighs and inner thighs, massaging them thoroughly, applying a generous amount of oil. When I got to the top of her inner thighs, Tami spread her legs a little, so I massaged all the way up to her pussy, letting my fingers glide along her beautiful outer lips. I massaged her hips and then her abdomen, pressing from her belly button down to her pussy, and then back up, repeating this several times, to her moans of pleasure. God, I wanted to crawl on top of her at this point.

I massaged her abdomen, her stomach, to her chest, and then gave her a full breast massage, similar to what I did last night in my office. Her breasts looked so inviting, I wanted to lean over and start licking them, but somehow I resisted. 

When I was rubbing my sister last night, I felt so guilty; but this time, it felt good. I don't know if it was because I was officially giving her a massage, or that I had her full consent, or what, but it was entirely different this time.

I continued rubbing my sister's breasts, massaging them well, and then moved to her upper chest and neck, finishing with her arms, fingers, and then working my way back to her face. 

I looked at the clock and it was 5:45 already. I stood there looking down at my sister, spread out before me in the nude, covered in oil. God, she looked incredible. 

"What are you looking at?" Tami asked.

"Your beautiful body, sis. Just your beautiful body."

"Is the massage over?" she asked. 

"Yeah, its over," I replied.

"Could you massage my breast for just a couple more minutes? Then maybe just a little lower, too?"

"Yeah, I can do that if you want me to."

"Oh fuck yes, I want you to."





Tami and Bo



The blond sleepily reached over to fondle the flaccid cock on the man sunbathing next to her. Her fingers traced a path up its length until it reached the velvety skin of the head and then she circled the end of it with one finger. The man murmured his approval and his cock started to inflate under her tender ministrations.

She was laying on a chaise lounge in the shade next to a pool under an umbrella while he was next to her but taking in the mid afternoon sun. They were next to a pool by a large mansion. Away from them were two other women laying face down in the sun, a rather lanky brunette and somewhat shorter blond. They were facedown, topless and seemingly oblivious to what was happening just 75 feet away.

The blond with the cock in her hand had a tiny yellow bikini top covering her breasts. Her arms and legs were those of a weight lifter and her skin had the healthy peaches and cream tone of someone in excellent health that did not subscribe to sunbathing. Her ample hips were encased in tight, black gym shorts that were meant for someone smaller. She had shoulder length blond hair and a beautiful full mouth. She licked her lips repeatedly as she rubbed the man's cock.

He was obviously use to her touch and once his cock started to grow in her hand it did not seem to want to stop. He was tall, well tanned and muscular. His body was hairless except for his pubic patch and his large balls were shaved as well. He lay there with his legs apart as the luscious blond next to him made him grow in her hand.

As he got bigger she helped by moving her hand up and down slowly on his shaft. The flaccid cock she started with doubled in size and then double again as she kept stroking it. Eventually it rose upwards on its on and she helped to hold it upright by gripping it around the base.

He turned towards her and said, "Now look what you have done."

"I like to finish what I start," was her only reply.

With that the man stood up next to her where she lay propped up in her chaise. From this position she was able to guide him to her waiting lips, which she did. Her little pink tongue darted from her mouth and flicked the end of his large cock. He groaned his approval and she opened up her sweet mouth to suckle just the end of his cock head. It was not obvious that she would be able to get very much more of him in.

Tami sucks him in

She bobbed her head up and down on the end of it and he helped by giving gentle thrusts into her lips. She slowly worked more and more of him into her while she watched his face for his approval. He reached down behind her neck and undid the tie that held her bikini bra up. Letting it fall exposed her peach-like breasts with hardening nipples centered directly on them. While her breasts were rather small, her muscular chest seemed to make them stick out proudly.

He reached down to fondle one of her firm titties and said, "I want to fuck you Tami."

She pulled him from her mouth and said, "Then shut up and do me, Bo." with a smile on her face.

Bo moved to the end of the chaise and knelt down at the end with his wet, rigid member swaying menacingly in the air. Tami scooted down to the end and raised up her hips so that he could move her shorts over her hips. When he did so he exposed her shaven pussy and it was quite a sight to see nestled between her muscular thighs. He removed her shorts from her legs never taking his eyes off of her fat shaved mound.

Once her shorts were off she spread her legs so that he could kneel between them. Doing so showed her fat outer pussy lips that were glistening with dampness. Bo only looked at this delightful sight for a moment before he grasped his throbbing cock in one hand and guided it to the damp opening.

While Tami was a large, strong woman, her pussy was not quite as big as it should have been to take on a tool such as the one Bo was packing. He pushed the tip of it into her and the tightness of her stopped his progress when about half of the head was in. Tami reached up above her head and grabbed the chaise lounge sides in order to brace herself for the upcoming onslaught.

Bo slowly pushed his hips up to her as she groaned. With short slow thrusts he started to make progress on getting his considerable length up her love tunnel. While his girth was straining her pussy lips and obviously causing her some discomfort it was also obvious that they both wanted this and had done it before. Her wetness helped ease the situation and Bo relentlessly worked his cock into her now steaming cunt. In seemed like it took forever to get to the point where his balls were resting on her firm round ass. When he reached this point Tami opened her eyes and smile up at him

"Fuck me Big Boy."

"Oh you will be well fucked before I am through with you young lady."

With that he withdrew until his cock head was the only thing left in her and in one slow relentless thrust he reentered her to the hilt. Tami let out a groan but her hips rose up to meet his assault. When he pulled out of her this time his glistening shaft was bulging and the veins were standing out on it. Her clit was showing in her naked lips and he reached down and massaged it gently with a dampened finger. If she was hot to have him fuck her before he started doing this, she was positively mad with desire now. He continued to drill his large cock up into her as he rubbed her wet little clitty.

Her small breasts rose and fell with her deep breathing and hips were raised in the air to help him get her off. Every time he slid his big cock out of her she whimpered as it made a wet sucking sound. Every time he drove into her she braced herself and groaned softly. 

He hadn't given her two dozen strokes like this before she went off like a skyrocket, bucking hard enough to make the chaise lounge move. When she came, all of the muscles in her body tensed under her smooth skin and her cunt gripped him so hard he could no longer fuck her but merely had to wait with his cock half in her until she calmed. She had spasm after spasm on the end of his cock and Bo just kept rubbing her clit with his finger to keep her coming as long as he could. After what seemed like a long time she quieted down and opened her eyes to look up at him.

"That was great, Bo."

"You want some more?" he asked.

"You know I do you big stud. Why do you even ask?"

"Because you are so tight I never know when I am hurting you," he replied.

"Let's just change positions."

Bo pulled his cock out of her tight hole and Tami got up from the chaise lounge. She folded a towel at the foot of it and kneeled on it with her ample backside towards Bo. Leaning forward onto the chaise lounge gave Bo a view of her beautiful cunt between her separated thighs. She grabbed on to the chaise as he guided his cock back to her opening. Her face and torso pushed into the padding on the chaise as he started to punish her little cunt with his cock. While she groaned with the pressure he was putting on her you could tell she was enjoying being assaulted from behind. Bo grabbed her hips on either side and slid his snake up into her.

He went into her easier this way but she was still deliciously tight on his shaft. As he drove into her, her tits raked across the cushion of the chaise lounge and her mound was forced onto the sharp edge at the foot, giving her clit an indirect stimulation. Bo slid into her until his balls were up against her firm ass. He then commenced to stroke her in the most workmanlike manner.

"Come in me, Bo," she begged as he fucked her relentlessly. She could sense that she was going to go off again soon with his big cock doing the things it was doing to her.

In answer Bo just drove his cock harder into her steamy slit. The pressure of his cock and the movement of her mound on the chaise lounge made her grip the chaise harder trying to delay her next orgasm. She was successful for only a couple of more strokes before the waves of ecstasy washed once again over her body. Her body tensed, her vagina tightened and she yelped with the pleasure he was giving her. Bo stopped his thrusting until her cunt released his grip on his straining cock.

When she quieted he asked," Had enough?"

"Not until you come in me," she said.

"He will never come in you like that." This came from the brunette who had been lying a short distance away but had now move closer to sit and watch Bo fuck Tami. "Want me to show you how it is done?"

Bo and Tami turned to look at the brunette, who was still topless, and obviously had been watching them intently for some time. Her elbows rested on her knees and her head was in her hands as her large brown breasts swung freely from her chest.

"Well maybe you should show her how," said Bob with a smile, looking at her tits. "But not here. Let's go inside to the hot tub. With that he withdrew from the freshly fucked Tami and helped her to her feet. He took the hand of the brunette and helped her up and then walked hand in hand with them to the big house.

To Be Continued...



Tami And Hannah



It was dark. Impossibly dark. Dark, that was, except for a single dim lamp that hung from the tall ceiling, swaying lazily in the light breeze that blew through the basement, creaking eerily as it did so. The large, spacious room was empty, devoid of all furniture except a large wooden bench set off to one side. The only sign that it wasn't completely abandoned was the presence of two figures, both female. However, gender was the only real similarity between the two – their personas were virtual polar opposites.

The first girl was chained, spread-eagled, to one of the bare, cold stone walls, her naked back pressed against the chill surface. Her hands were above her head, crossed over and bound tightly, leaving little room for her to struggle against her bonds. Her legs were forced open and also chained. She had been deprived of her clothing completely in an attempt to make her feel dirty and humiliated, her curvy hourglass figure, large breasts and wide hips on full display to her "captor". Her fluffy chestnut hair was dishevelled and fell around her face, concealing a lot of it from view. Her eyes, however, shone though. They were an unusual colour, a yellowish-hazel, and right now they showed an odd mixture of fear and anticipation that would have come as a surprise to most who knew her – especially considering her current predicament. Her mascara and eyeliner was smudged across her face, giving the indication that she had been crying, and her beautifully pale skin still bore red marks and bruises from sessions of previous evenings. She shivered, an effect of both the cold air on her skin and because she knew what awaited her without doubt. It had been the same now for days on end. Her posture was that of one who had come to finally accept her fate as nothing more than a vessel for the sexual depravity of the one responsible for her situation – and who actually enjoyed being nothing more than a plaything, a living doll to fulfil the needs of others. 

By contrast, the second girl was taller and stood unhindered in front of the first girl with her arms folded, straight, proud and domineering, the stance of one who knew exactly what it was that she wanted and didn't ask for it, but rather demanded it, sadistic in her need to order and manipulate others like toys. She viewed others as lower than herself, seeing them as barely human, there simply for her amusement, and nobody gave her more of a thrill than the one currently bound to her underground wall. 

She was dressed downright provocatively and despite not having as much of a sexualized shape as the first girl, her outfit clung to her so tightly that it almost appeared painted on. A tight-fitting leather corset, black, pushed her breasts up so much that they threatened to escape from the material. From the waist down, she had on a tiny, tight microskirt made from PVC, connected to the corset to form a dress of sorts, and under that lay a semi-transparent lacy red thong, flashes of which were visible as she walked around. Black silk stockings reached to her upper thighs, leaving only a slight gap displaying her lightly tanned flesh. From the knees down she wore long black leather boots, complete with high heels and numerous buckles, straps and zippers. Wavy brown hair tumbled around her shoulders. Her full lips, painted ruby red, were set in a permanent smirk, and her hazel eyes burned with an evil lust.

"Playtime, pet," she giggled softly and seductively, sauntering over to the bench, where lay her "toys", a selection of instruments designed specifically for both pleasure and pain. She was in her element here, so skilled in their use, able to draw out both soft moans and loud screams from her "pets" with equal ease. Firstly, she picked up a long handle tipped with a silky black feather.

"I think I'll tease you first...to get you wet for me..." she smiled darkly. "I love it when your pussy is dripping...means I'm clearly doing my job right...and you're such a slut that it never takes long..."

The chained girl was unable to prevent a sound of pleasure escaping her lips as the dominant female spoke to her in such a way. It was no secret to the few who knew this girl's sexual nature that, despite appearances, she actually got off on being talked down to and insulted, something that she had learned to love a long time ago. She readily volunteered to be tied to the basement wall each night, and had started to in fact look forward to it. She felt the area between her legs start to moisten and heat up already, and she blushed slightly. She really was a slut for the other girl – and indeed for anyone who showed her such treatment – an expression of her need to submit to others, to be controlled and used.

A second noise of enjoyment, louder this time, echoed around the basement as the girl in charge lightly stroked the feather down the other girl's form, tracing it from her cheek down her sensitive neck to her breasts, circling each nipple and then changing direction, running it up her legs and over her thighs, softly brushing the tip of the feather against the entrance to her pussy and over her clit.

"There's a good bitch..." the dominant girl purred, leaning up to softly run her tongue up the other girl's neck, making her gasp in ecstasy. She wanted that tongue all over her...wanted it inside her...

As if she had read the submissive girl's mind, the other winked at her, running her tongue slowly and deliberately across her bottom lip as she said "maybe if you're good for me, I'll show you what else I can do with my tongue...I'd bet you'd fucking like that wouldn't you, you dirty little whore?"

The bound girl, a blush reaching her cheeks, whimpered and nodded, struggling in her chains as she tried to thrust her hips in the other girl's direction, a silent plea to be pleasured by her mistress.

"Ooh...I'm going to have so much fun with you tonight, sweetie..." the dominant girl cooed.

Running the feather high up the other girl's thighs again, eliciting more moans that were like sweet music to her ears, she turned and replaced the tickler on the bench. She rested a hand on her hip.

"Hmmm...what should I do to you next? I wonder..." She sucked on her thumb softly as she regarded the variety of implements before her. "Any suggestions or preferences, bitch?"

The girl in chains moaned again. Her mistress rarely allowed her to choose the method by which she would be exploited next, but she loved it when she was allowed such a rare reward for her behaviour. She felt the wetness between her legs increase, and a little slid down her thigh. Her blush increased. Even by her standards, it wasn't too often that she would be dripping so much this early into their sessions. My God...I'm becoming such a whore for her...

"Wax..." she whispered softly. "Burn me..."

The other girl giggled, picking up a large red candle. "Beg for it!" she breathed, fire in her eyes.

"...Please, Tami..." the first girl murmured. "Please...burn me, baby...I beg you...ah...please..."

"Louder! Scream it for me!" the girl called Tami cried, reaching for a lighter with a smirk.

"Tami, please! Drip it over me! Make me feel it! I'm your little bitch, Tami! Please! I'll do anything! Burn me, Tami! Please!" Fuck...I can't believe how much I'm getting off on how demanding she is...

"Mmm...that's much better..." Tami slipped one hand up under her skirt, rubbing her fingers against her pussy through her thong. "Mmm, Hannah...you know I love it when you beg me...ah, yes..."

Hannah moaned again as she watched her mistress touching herself. I wish I could taste her...

Eventually, Tami removed her hand from between her legs and lifted her fingers up to Hannah's lips. With an exclamation of joy, Hannah eagerly took her fingers into her mouth, sucking and licking keenly, savouring the sweetness of Tami's flavour, her scent, everything about her – loving it.

"Do you like how I taste, honey?" Tami purred in Hannah's ear, biting and kissing at it.

"Ah...ah...ah...Tami...you're delicious...ah..."

"That's what I like to hear...hold still now..."

Tami lit the candle and, without warning, grabbed a handful of Hannah's hair and yanked her head sharply to one side, causing her to yelp half because it hurt and half because it got her even wetter. Once the candle had started to burn, Tami tilted it slowly so that it was at an angle, the melted wax all running to one side. Hannah was panting in readiness, and she laughed.

"Tell me how much you want it. Tell me how much you want me."

"Oh, Tami...I want you...please...give it to me...give me the pain that turns me on...pour it all over me...please, mistress...I'll be a good girl...I'll do whatever you say...please let me feel the wax..."

"Well...you are being such an obedient bitch for me tonight...how could I possibly say no?"

Tami tilted the candle a little further, the hot, freshly melted wax starting to drip over the edge. A single drop splashed onto Hannah's neck and she gasped, loving the sensation of the heat on her bare skin, finding the contrast with the cold basement an incredible turn-on. Her pussy ached now, almost unbearably, with longing for the other girl – the one who owned her, body and soul, fully and completely. The candle continued to tilt, the wax now running in rivulets down Hannah's neck and over her full breasts, continuing down over her stomach as Tami moved the candle down her body, pouring more wax over her thighs. Hannah writhed in her chains in delight, begging for more, moaning and sighing as the wax stung her skin before it eventually started to cool.  

"Ooh, Hannah, you kinky slut!" Tami said with a smile. "Wax really does it for you, huh!"

"Ah...you know it does, mistress..." Hannah replied softly, barely able to catch her breath.

"Maybe I should clean you up before I carry on...that wax is strawberry flavoured, after all..."

"It would be a shame to waste...AH!" Hannah's sentence was cut off abruptly as Tami immediately began the process of "cleaning her up", kissing her all over her naked form, her tongue darting over her skin, lapping the flavoured wax from the other girl like a cat, maintaining eye contact with her. Her hands moved up Hannah's legs, teasing her, avoiding where she wanted to be touched most, caressing and squeezing the soft skin of her arse, stroking up further over her lower back and then moving her hands around to her front to cup her huge breasts, flicking her tongue between them and running it over her sensitive nipples, now stiff with her excitement. Hannah, meanwhile, could barely think straight; Tami was driving her completely crazy and she could hardly stand it. She made no attempt to hold back from the other girl's actions, her moans growing louder and louder.

"Uh...Tami...you're making me...so...fucking...hot..." she somehow managed to pant between moans. "Oh my God...I'm so fucking lucky to belong to you...oooh...Tami, yes...YES!"

Tami straightened up, licking the last of the wax from around her mouth and pinching Hannah's nipples hard. "You're pretty fucking loud tonight, aren't you, sweetie?" she taunted playfully.

"Only for you...Tami..." The ache between Hannah's legs was now practically a full-on fire.

"I think I'm being a little too soft on you..." was the dominant girl's reply.

"Are you going to punish me for being so noisy, mistress?" Hannah asked, a little too hopefully.

"I may have to, I'm afraid..." Tami responded, undoing Hannah's chains and releasing her from the wall. Returning to the bench she picked up a pair of handcuffs. "Arms above your head. Now."

Without hesitation, Hannah did as she was ordered immediately, allowing Tami to reach up and cuff her wrists together, making sure that she wasn't able to escape or move her arms much. Satisfied, she smiled at Hannah sweetly. "On your knees, bitch. And make it quick. I don't like waiting."

Again, Hannah obeyed without question – she loved it when the older girl bossed her about; being commanded like an animal in such a way gave her a thrill like no other. More of her wetness slid down her thighs as she knelt in front of Tami, looking up at her almost shyly through her fringe.

"It's good that you know your place...maybe I'll make the punishment a little lenient tonight..."

"...You don't have to..." Hannah whispered, sounding slightly disappointed at this.

Tami smiled and, moving around behind Hannah, grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back sharply and kissing and sucking her neck in a manner that seemed almost violent. Hannah's screams of pure satisfaction cut through the air, sending shivers through Tami's entire being. Similarly to how Hannah thoroughly enjoyed being treated roughly, Tami got off equally as much on being the one in charge of such behaviour. Her own wetness drenched her underwear and she moved a hand back beneath her skirt, this time slipping it down the front of her thong and sliding two fingers into her pussy. Her other hand groped hard as Hannah's breasts, twisting and pulling her nipples while she vigorously fingered herself, screaming the name of her lesbian lover at the top of her lungs. Before she could come, however, she stopped, holding back her orgasm to build its intensity for later. She grabbed hold of Hannah's hair again and this time pushed her forwards. Hannah cried out as she fell to all fours, her bare curvy arse now pointed upwards towards Tami, unable to right herself owing to being cuffed and not capable of using her hands. Tami giggled her mischievous giggle. 

"Shake that arse of yours for me, you whore," she commanded. Hannah did so as Tami reached for the leather paddle that lay on the bench, her backside swaying sexily for the eyes of her partner. "Ooh yeah, that's it..." Tami encouraged, then without warning viciously lashed the paddle hard against Hannah's skin.

"Oh, FUCK!" Hannah yelled, much louder than she had been so far that night. The sudden, sharp, cutting pain was completely out of the blue, and she wouldn't have had it any other way. "HARDER!"

Tami was only too happy to oblige her slave's desires for her "punishment", bringing the paddle down over and over again against Hannah's pale arse with increasing zeal. The submissive girl's skin started to redden with each strike, her outbursts becoming more and more frenzied and vocal.

"Punish me, mistress! Spank my fucking arse! YES! I want you to hurt me! Punish me! FUCKING HARDER! Tami, I deserve it! I've been sooooo bad! I'm such a naughty little slut! Hurt me! Fucking HURT me, Tami! I deserve to be punished and spanked so fucking much! MORE! MORE! PLEASE!"

Hannah's almost primal screams nearly pushed Tami over the edge, and she had to make a conscious effort not to come through the effects of her words alone, clenching her legs tight together but still feeling her clit throbbing intensely despite this. No. No matter how frustrated she was getting, she wouldn't come yet. Not without this slut's tongue buried deep in my tight wet cunt.

Deciding to mix things up a little, Tami changed tactics slightly, kneeling down and alternating her hard, aggressive spanking with softer touches and kisses to Hannah's arse, contrasting her vicious attitude with a soothing one, each action heightened in feeling due to the sensitivity the paddle had caused. Once or twice she ran the tip of her tongue around the entrance to Hannah's arse, causing the other girl to back up against her insistently, and Tami responded with longer, slower licks while continuing with her use of the paddle, and now it was Hannah's turn to almost come on the spot. The two of them knew each other so well, always seeking to test each other's limits, neither of them wanting to give in and come before the other, caught up in the rapture of exploring each other's bodies to the fullest. After delivering a few more solid spanks, Tami set the paddle aside again and straightened up, stretching her arms above her head and relaxing before fetching a studded collar.

"Stay on your knees!" she scolded, seeing Hannah attempt to stand up. She promptly stopped trying.

Tami leant forwards and fastened the collar around Hannah's neck tightly, the diamond studs shining softly in the dim glow of the ceiling lamp. The younger girl made a purring noise in her throat as Tami stroked her hair and scratched her behind her ears and under her chin. After this Tami attached a long chain to a hook on the front of the collar, forming a sort of leash around Hannah's neck by which she could be further manipulated by her "owner". Hannah's purrs grew even louder. Tami stood in front of Hannah with her legs slightly apart and hitched up her tiny skirt so that it was around her waist, then slowly and teasingly slid her lacy red thong down her legs, stepping out of it and showing off her beautifully shaven pussy for the other girl's viewing, stroking her clit in small circles and moaning softly, then she yanked hard on the chain to pull Hannah up between her legs.

"Lick," she commanded. "Lick my pussy, bitch." 

Hannah didn't need telling twice and set about putting the use of her long tongue to Tami's benefit, kissing and licking up her thighs and at the entrance to her pussy, occasionally licking up higher to get at her clit, sucking on it gently while the older girl moaned like a whore, tugging at both the leash and Hannah's hair, wanting more and more of her tongue in her most intimate area, grinding and thrusting herself towards Hannah's mouth. Mmm...She's always been so fucking good at this...

"F...faster...lick my little cunt faster..." 

Hannah increased the pace of her licks, running her tongue up and down the length of Tami's pussy as her mistress pulled harder and harder on her leash. Burying her face in Tami's pussy, Hannah suddenly thrust her tongue up deep inside of her, causing her to cry out in joy.

"Yes, Hannah! Ah, ah, ah! Fuck me with your tongue! Mmm!"

Once again, Tami felt the heat of her orgasm building up between her legs, threatening to envelop her entire being in a wave of ecstasy. No...not yet...I'm having too much fun...

She let go of the leash and pushed Hannah backwards away from her, the other girl crying out as she fell onto her back on the floor. Smirking, Tami stood over her, then turned so she was facing away from Hannah's head, the she crouched down so her arse and pussy were above Hannah's face, and her own face was pointed towards Hannah's pussy so they could pleasure each other together.

"Lick my cunt again. Make me fucking come this time and maybe I'll get you off, too..."

Hannah moaned up into Tami's pussy, placing her still-cuffed hands on Tami's arse as she started to lap between her legs again, gasping and moaning loudly as she felt Tami doing the same to her, the other girl's soft warm tongue feeling so good between her thighs. This must be like Heaven...

In between her licking, Tami would sit up and grind her pussy against Hannah's face, rocking her hips back and forth in a perfectly paced rhythm for maximum contact with her girlfriend's mouth.

"Oh yes! Deeper!" She moaned, gripping Hannah's hair and pulling her closer against her pussy while continuing to grind and ride her face, bouncing up and down slightly. "I'm so fucking close!"

Tami leant back forwards to continue reciprocating the amazing oral sex that she was receiving from Hannah, the two girls in the centre of the room in the sixty-nine position, Tami on top with sounds of absolute bliss coming from both of them, caught up in each other completely, going at it as fast and frantically as they both could, each of them trying to hold back and both finding it extremely hard.

"Ooh, Hannah...I...I'm gonna..."

"T-Tami...me...too..."

With twin cries of passion the two girls came hard simultaneously, their pussies contracting uncontrollably, each girl's orgasm exploding around the other's mouth and tongue. Tami rolled off of Hannah to lie beside her on the basement floor, both of them shaking and panting breathlessly, short and shallow, with the exertion and intensity of the experience. 




Tami And Hannah



"Same time tomorrow," Tami eventually managed to say. It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, mistress..." came Hannah's reply, obedient as always.



Tami & The Bikers



My little adventure began on a suggested road trip with my husband. My husband wanted to take a long scenic drive along the east coast. We started off early in the morning heading north. Once we got a few miles from our town my husband started to insist that I get more comfortable. Comfortable to my husband is me being naked. 

Looking around and realizing nobody was close by I finally agreed. I was wearing a sundress and a pair of panties. I removed the sundress and laid it on the floor by my feet, then slowly I teased my husband pulling down my panties. Once they were removed I also laid them at my feet. 

My husband insisted I lay back and enjoy the ride. I took his advice and enjoyed the sun bathing my body. My husband persistently pulled my legs apart and finally I gave up the fight and laid there with my legs wide open.

I suppose I had fallen asleep. I was startled by the loud noise of motorcycles approaching. I jumped up and could see about 10 motorcycles approaching our car. I reached down to grab my sundress to cover my body but it was gone. I looked at my husband and asked what happened to my dress. He said he threw it and my panties in the back for safekeeping. 

I didn’t know what to do, I figured it would be quite obvious if I climbed over the seats to get my clothes. My husband said, just relax they are going to pass us in a minute and are probably enjoying the road and not concerned about other people. I sat nervously in the seat as they continued to approach. I tried to cover myself with my hands. One hand between my legs and the other across my chest.

When they finally reached us, they slowed down as they were passing. I was so embarrassed. There were ten of them and three had ladies on the back of their motorcycles. They rode next to us for a few minutes, taking turns glancing in, I just looked the other way. Finally my husband said look dear they are riding off, as I turned to look the last biker waved and gave us a nod. They continued down the road until they were out of site.

My husband turned to me and said see, was there anything to be alarmed about? I said I guess not, I was scared before, but extremely excited during and after the show. My husband said look how excited it made me, I turned and looked and he had such a bulge in his pants. He asked if I could take care of it for him. I instinctively unzipped his shorts and pulled his penis out of his underwear. As I started sucking him, he instructed me to get on my knees. I knew this would give anyone that passed on the right a good view of my exposed ass and pussy, but I was so horny at this point I didn’t care.

As I was sucking my husband I could feel my wetness dripping down the inside of my thighs, and I kept thinking, damn I am excited. After a few minutes, my husband announced that he was going to cum. I began to suck him harder and take him deeper in my mouth. He finally exploded and it seemed like he came a gallon. When I sat up I noticed the ten motorcyclist just ahead. They had pulled off the side of the road to rest I guess. As we rode past they all whistled and waved. I guess to show appreciation for the display.

We continued down the road for another hour or so, and I was really enjoying the feel of the wind and sun caressing my naked body. I wish I had done this more often. Suddenly my husband began to swear. He said damn we are just about out of gas and I haven’t seen a gas station for miles. We were way out on the back roads and really hadn’t seen anything but trees and an occasional cow pasture. Hoping to find one my husband pressed on, until the car started to sputter as it ran out of gas and onto the fumes.

When we finally came to a rest on the side of the road, my husband was pretty upset with himself. He went to the back and handed me my clothes. I dressed in my panties and sundress, throwing on a pair of sandals. We sat their pondering what to do next. 

A few minutes later we heard the roar of the motorcycles approaching again. Not sure if this was good news or bad news. As the motorcycles approached they slowed down stopping on the side of the road by us. They shut the motorcycles off and asked if they could help. My husband stated that we had run out of gas, and didn’t know where a gas station was located. One of the bikers stated there was a gas station about 10 miles up a head. My husband said great, I guess we should start walking.

The bikers said this wasn’t the nicest stretch of road to be stuck on and he recommended that my husband stay with the vehicle to ensure nobody came by and stripped it of all its parts and they would run me up to the station get some gas and head back. My husband was pretty reluctant with the idea, and the bikers said well you have the offer you can take it or leave it. Then said remember once they strip the car, they might come looking for you and if you have cash and valuables they may take those as well. 

My husband said well I can take care of myself but it was up to me if I wanted to go get the gas. The bikers started their motorcycles and said it is now or never. One by one they started to leave. I finally agreed because I didn’t want to get stuck on the side of the road, and I knew my husband could take care of himself. I hopped onto the last motorcycle and wrapped my hands around the guys waist and we took off. I have never been on a motorcycle before and the vibration between my legs was driving me crazy. 

Once we were out of the site of my husband we suddenly pulled over. Once we stopped I asked what we were doing? He said lady we saw you in the car and you looked really good, but when you hopped onto the motorcycle it was plain to see you put some panties on. If you want the full effect of the ride take them off and give them to me. I was shocked by what he said. He said listen lady you can take them off or you can walk whichever way you want from here. 

Not knowing which way to go from here I pulled them off. Once I had them in my hand he told me to put them on his handlebars and get back on so we can go. I did as he asked and away we went. The motorcycle was vibrating too much, it had my mind racing and I felt a small orgasm begin. I wrapped my hands tightly around his waist and held on as tight as I could until it finally subsided. Just as I gained control I noticed a gas station in the distance.. We finally reached the gas station as we got there the other bikers were waiting. One biker was strapping a five gallon gas tank onto the back of his motorcycle. He said okay we got the gas is everyone ready to head back? I screamed yes, then one of the other girls said look Jimmy got a souvenir, pointing at my panties around his handlebars. Without hesitation he reached backed and lifted my dress revealing my naked pussy and said now how did those get from there to up here, and began chuckling. Then he said come on lets go.

We started back and I was relieved that we would be back to my husband soon. But that damn vibration was just too much, I came no less then four times on the ride back, and the wind was blowing my dress wildly around, it was no wonder we took the lead. Finally we approached my husband and the car. He was standing in front of the car and was delighted to see our return.

We stopped the motorcycle and as I got off and started to walk away, Jimmy grabbed me by my arm and stopped me. I turned and looked at him, and he said listen here lady this bike is my baby and you are not leaving it a mess. I turned and looked and saw a puddle of my juices on his seat. I was so embarrassed. I apologized and said I would clean it up. He said you are damn right you are going to clean it up. I went to grab my panties from his handlebars and he said lady, anything on my bike belongs to me, so leave those there. I told him I would use them to clean his seat and that he could keep them. He said like hell you will. He said that is fine leather and it will be treated as such. He told me I better respect his stuff and if I truly respected it I would begin cleaning it with my tongue. 

I looked at him then at my husband with total disbelief. My husband said, honey they did us a huge favor the least you can do is to respect his stuff clean it and let them be on their way. Finally understanding that my husband was probably right I bent over and started to lick the seat. I felt a hard slap on my ass and was shocked by what happened. I bolted upright, and this guy looked angry. The other bikers were just laughing. He said, I told you that is fine leather. You are licking across the grain and you are going to ruin my seat. I asked him how I was suppose to do it. He said get behind the bike and lick toward the front, and I better hurry before it dries. I moved to the back and just as I was about to begin, I asked if this would be good. He said if I were you I would keep both hands on the foot pedals to make sure the bike didn’t fall. He said if that bike falls I would suddenly know what trouble was. 

I reached down and grabbed the foot pedals and began to lick, it was then that I noticed a cool breeze on my ass and realized I was totally exposed to everyone. He kept saying you better lick that good, that pussy juice will stain my seat. I was licking as deep as I could. Finally I heard my husband speak, he said he appreciated the assistance and sure could use one of those cold beers while we waited. I heard a sure, then a can pop open. I began to get up and the guy said don’t move until I inspect it. As he walked up he placed his hand on my ass and gently rubbed my bare ass with his hand, with his other hand he said, look you missed a spot here, so keep going, as I began to lick I felt his fingers wander down to my pussy and push a finger into my wet pussy. I don’t know if my husband could see or not, but this guy kept going with his finger while pointing out more spots on his seat. Finally he pulled his finger out of me and said okay the seat looks good. 

As I stood up, the guy with the gas can began walking over to my husband. Just as he reached him my husband said, how much do I owe you? The guy said, oh there isn’t enough money in the world for this can of gas, but I think we can work out another arrangement and he turned and looked at me. I started shaking my head no. The guy said look for the ride to the gas station I just want your wife to take off her dress and give it to Robert over there. My husband turned and looked at me, he said honey they already saw you naked, come on and lets go. 

My husband was right, and I wanted to go. It was almost dusk and I didn’t want to be stuck out here at night especially. I removed my dress and tossed it to the guy, Robert. I stood there naked in front of these 10 men and 3 ladies and asked, okay can we have the gas and go now please? The guy said, oh the dress was just for the ride, I could feel my heart dropping.. He said now for this can of gas you are going to have to lay over top of my motorcycle, with that beautiful ass and pussy exposed for everyone’s viewing pleasure. 

My husband again, said honey they have seen all of you lets do this and go. I was hesitant but knew he was right. I slowly walked to the motorcycle and laid across the seat. When I was there, the guy said well reach down and spread those lips so we can truly see you as a woman. I reached down and spread my lips and realized how wet I really was. As I laid there I asked okay is this good, can I get up and we can go? He said, well maybe except your husband drank our last beer and then means more to us then this gas. Immediately I began to rise and before I could get up someone grabbed my wrist. I felt my legs being spread and before I knew what was happening I felt a penis begin to penetrate my pussy.

I heard my husband say guys she loves the attention and I do appreciate the beer. One after another they fucked me. I came so many times I lost count. Finally after the tenth guy finished, I felt a warm mouth on my pussy. One of the bikers said good job Sarah, clean her up nice. She made me cum one more time. When she was done I began to stand, I was so sore I could barely move. As I started to walk toward my husband I could feel the cum dripping out of my pussy and down my legs. I finally reached my husband who gave me a big hug and he said good girl I hope you are okay about this. I looked up saw the lust in his eyes and realized how good it felt, and how glad I was he enjoyed it. I heard the motorcycles start up and then the roared out of site. It was now just about dark and I was ready to go.

My husband grabbed the gas can and headed to the back of the car to put it in, when he opened it he began to swear again. He said damn it, there is nothing but water in here…and then I realized that they left with my clothes...



Tami at the Park



Tami sat on the park bench, bored. It was two in the morning, and she couldn't sleep. It was a cool spring night, and the park was completely deserted. Tami had wore a white sleeveless collared shirt with a black and white checkered tie, and baggy black shorts. Her 32C cup breasts were bare beneath the thin fabric of her shirt, her nipples tingling whenever she moved. Tami had went to the park, thinking it'll take her mind off of things. 

She had just started college, and it was tough for her to balance her part-time job and schoolwork in the few hours of the day. Her manager, Darrell, kept her up many nights during their steamy sessions, fucking her in exchange for things Tami wanted, like a raise or something. Thinking of Darrell made Tami excited. She closed her eyes and leaned back on the bench, her hands reaching under her shirt and massaging her firm, round breasts. She imagined that it was Darrell's smooth hand rubbing her flesh, his fingers pinching and rolling her nipples. Tami moaned softly into the night, her arousal growing stronger. Her other hand unbuttoned her shorts and reached under her white panties, touching her shaved pussy. Her forefinger found her clit and rubbed it in slow, circular motions. Her middle finger traced up and down folds of her labia, which were slippery with her juices. Still massaging her clit, Tami inserted her middle finger into her pussy, slowly pumping in and out. She moaned, picturing Darrell kneeling before her, his tongue slurping at her pussy. She inserted another finger and pumped faster, humping her hips on her hand. 

Meanwhile, two men drove by the park, on their way home from their girlfriend's party. They were slightly drunk and still horny as they passed by Tami's bench. The driver's partner, James, nudged his friend, pointing at Tami. 

"Yo William, take a look at that!" James smirked, his cock twitching in excitement. William looked, and braked suddenly. They two young men were both jerked forward, but they paid no attention. They were both rubbing their cocks to the masturbating girl in the middle of the park. 

Tami still had her eyes closed, and was unaware when the two men showed up. Her pants were dropped to her ankles, and her underwear stretched around her knees. Her bum was lifted from the bench, and she had three fingers pumping in and out of her pussy. Tami was close to a climax, when a voice called out to her.

"Ooh baby, you are such a sexy whore," James laughed, reaching a hand out to touch her exposed clit. Tami gasped and opened her eyes, her fingers flying out of her hole. She saw two tall men towering over her, an undeniable bulge in their pants. The one who spoke had dark skin and multiple piercings in his ears. He wore a tight dark t-shirt that showed off his muscles and the tribal tattoo on his left forearm. His friend had lighter skin than him, and had the same built. He wore a loose white shirt and baggy jeans. They both stared down at her with dark, lustful eyes. 

Tami felt shame burn her cheeks. What was she thinking, masturbating in public?! And now she was caught by two horny men, who no doubt wanted to fuck her. She quickly tried to pull her pants back up, but the tattooed man stopped her, pulling her arms up roughly, jerking her into a standing position. 

"Hey! Stop that!" she cried, squirming under his grasp, but he was too strong. "Hey, no!" the other man began to remove her pants completely, lifting her legs and pulling the shorts from her. 

After he removed her shorts and panties, William stood up and pulled on the girl's tie, smirking widely. He untied it and pulled it from her neck, handling it like a whip. "You know what we do with whores like you?" he asked, nodding at James. James spun her around and pushed her against the bench, forcing her to kneel on the seat as he pulled her arms back. 

"We tie them up and punish them," he finished, bounding Tami's wrists together with her tie, pulling tightly. Tami winced and cried out, her arms aching. 

"No please," she begged, "please don't do this." She knelt on the hard wooden bench, twisting her head back to look at the two men. They were both pulling their pants down, freeing their raging cocks. Tami gasped at the size of their sex, and started pleading again. 

James walked over to Tami's mouth and pulled his dick up to her face, poking her lips. Tami clamped her lips together and shook her head to the side, but James smacked her on the face so hard she almost toppled sideways. William steadied her from behind, his large hands gripping her hips tightly, His prick rubbed along the length of her dry pussy. Tami's fear had taken away her arousal, which William found to be unpleasant.

"This little whore ain't wet anymore," William complained, rubbing his dick while still keeping it pointed at her opening. James had managed to force his cock into her mouth after he slapped her, and groaned in response. William sighed and shrugged, and rammed in anyway. 

The sudden intrusion on her dry pussy make Tami scream, her sound muffled by Jame's thick cock. Tears spilled over her eyes and down her cheeks as William pounded her roughly, tearing in and out of her pussy. William pushed her shirt up, and reached over to free her breasts. He fondled them as he fucked her, pulling on them like reins. Soon, Tami could feel herself turned on again, and the pain in her cunt disappeared, replaced by pleasure. 

James pulled his cock out for a second, letting Tami take a breath, then forced it in her mouth again. "Hey little whore, lick my cock on your own," he panted, holding it inches from her mouth. Tami stretched her neck and tongue out, struggling to lick it as James kept pulling away, teasing her. Tami groaned in frustration. If only her hands weren't bound...She finally got her tongue on his shaft, and she slurped over it frantically. 

William rammed into her hard, enjoying the squishing sounds as her juices surrounded his cock. He pulled out and quickly found her anus, the tight puckered hole. Without warning, he pushed in, Tami's pussy juices his only lubricant. Tami screamed, but James muffled her by ramming his cock down her throat, making Tami gag. More tears rolled down her cheeks as William's thick cock pumped in and out of her tight asshole, stretching the canal as far as it could go. 

James pulled on Tami's brown hair, pushing her face down to his balls, making Tami jerk as she tried not to gag. "Oh yes baby, suck that cock. Yes, little slut, suck it. Shove it down your throat and swallow it, oh yeah baby..." he moaned, humping Tami's face. 

William started to alternate between fucking her ass and pussy, thrusting into each hole for a few seconds, then switching to another. This made Tami even more aroused as she felt herself close to a climax. She started to shake, and felt as if an envelope of heat as surrounded her. Her vision blurred and stars burst before her eyes. Her cunt muscles contracted, and her cum squirted from her pussy. William had been fucking her ass, but when he saw that she was coming, he quickly rammed into her pussy, thrusting quickly for a few times and releasing his load into her. 

James had been holding back for a few minutes, and now he shot spurt after spurt of cum into Tami's open mouth, splattering it on her whole face. Tami coughed up the cum and it spilled down her chin, dribbling down to the dirt. William finished coming and pulled his cock out, sighing contently. Tami collapsed, sitting on her feet, her stick face pressed against the back of the bench. The two men wiped their cocks clean on her back, and pulled their pants back up. Before they left, James untied the tie and wrapped it around her neck. He gave her ass a kiss and followed his friend out of the park, laughing and slapping his back. 

Tami stayed on the bench for another hour, resting her tired arms. Slowly, she pushed herself from the bench, pulled on her shorts, fixed her shirt, and walked home slowly. As she walked home, Tami sobbed silently, her tears mixing with the cum on her face. Secretly though, she hoped she would see those two men again. Maybe teach them a lesson for messing with her. Her hand went down her pants and swished her fingers in the stranger's cum.



Tami Beethoven



Part 1

"Here's some burnt connective tissue," she said, wiping a small grease splatter off her nipple and forking three strips of bacon onto Rod's plate. Before turning back to the stove she snapped off a piece for herself. Burnt connective tissue tasted so good sometimes, especially on a late winter morning like this.

Her comment was playing to her vegetarian guests, Jen and Leisha, married three years ago under the laws of the State of Vermont, who were taking in Tami's famous soy flour pancakes. Dressed in flannel shirts, jeans, and sneakers with nice thick wool socks, they also took in the trim butt cheeks as Tami worked the stove, cheeks that were always bare like the rest of her and were a prime display of her trademark tan. It was well observed in the Campbell-Frank College community that Tami's summer skin was copper, but her winter skin was a light brown, a change like the summer and winter colors of certain birds. But at any time of year, her permanently nude body was one of the glories of the local countryside.

She turned to slide another pancake onto Jen's plate. "Nice, what is that, burgundy, Tam?" Jen said. Tami stood back, playfully tossing her shoulder-length hair like in a shampoo commercial, then looking down to her full length nudity. Her hair, her fingernails, her pubic hair ("lower hair", she called it), and her toenails were all the same reddish color, a shade lighter than her natural hair color. "No, more magenta-ish. The box calls it 'Plum'," she said. "Goes well." "Thanks. I might stick with this for a while." "I still like the all-black look on you."

As Jen said this she brushed aside a few of the beer bottle caps that had some time ago spilled over the top of the big round oatmeal carton that graced the end of the table. Most of the caps reflected Tami's favorite brand. The carton had been there a year but, still, that was a whole lot of caps. Behind the mountain of caps, on the wall, a bulletin board with various pictures and notices, many way out of date. And a little framed note that said, in Tami's neat hand,

 "Would you spend your life With a naked wife?"

Next to that, a Pawtucket Red Sox hat, push-pinned into the board.

Rod, about ten minutes from having to leave for work, ready for the outside world in his gray button-down shirt, dark pants and engineer's boots, looked up from reading this morning's news on his laptop. He reflected on how Tami's appearance had changed over the past three years. Her face, for one thing. Longer, a bit more angular, more like a mature woman. Looking back at those old photos now, like from the Black Formal he had taken Tami to during her first semester, her face seemed more babyish, almost chubby. Now it was more "beautiful", as if to catch up with those bright green eyes.

Her body, too, was a bit more angular, the muscles slightly better defined, especially around the midriff and that tight little butt typical of white girls. Her breasts seemed a bit larger. Remarkably they did not sag, being without the benefit of a bra all this time. Maybe not so remarkable. When she was a sophomore Tami had dug up a study showing that bras, for all their other purposes, do not really prevent sagging. Sounded wrong, but in Tami's case the theory was correct.

Looking at her matching hair and nails, Rod was glad that her personal fashion sense, or what fashion choices life had permitted her in light of her allergy, had calmed down. That sophomore year, at least the second half, was a wild ride. Blazing colors, half-buzz cuts, shaving into a "T" for Tami, Bride of Frankenstein shocks -- Tami's crotch was like a dazzling billboard bopping around the campus and town, making it even more the center of attention that it already was wherever she went. Her upper hair was no less flamboyant, one month almost a Mohawk, the next green dreadlocks, and usually different color nail polish on each finger and toe. It was a trial to be seen with her, though he never admitted it. Just when he was hoping people would get used to this naked girl walking around, she calls attention to herself.

Then that summer internship in Germany, working with a famous math professor on six-dimensional polymers or whatever it was -- he never could quite understand her attempts to explain it, even though he was about to complete an engineering degree with two years of calculus. When she came back in August she was so enthusiastic. "Germany is such a totally nude friendly country. It's where nudism began. They go out naked to the parks. I'd walk out and, it was like, I'm not the only one for once. It was so nice not being stared at. Everyone was so polite and grown-up about it. One day they had an exhibit at an art museum; it was a really hot day, so if you went naked you got in free. I was just one of the crowd. I wished all the time you could be there and we'd be naked together. Of course" they were on the bed at the time, late at night, "I wouldn't be able to control myself, looking at this! Roarrr!" Whereupon she grabbed his dick, swung it around from the base like a floppy baseball bat, then took it into her throat.

When she came back from that summer she was full of German phrases. He had learned a little bit from his father, who had been stationed there during his Army days, and had thought it a military and harsh language. But then he heard Tami speak it in a gentle, musical way and it was enchanting. "I love the way you wrap your lips around those umlauts," was his favorite phrase for a while.

She had also, really for the first time, embraced what she called "the theory of nudism" -- the beneficial effect of the elements on bare skin. She was determined to live in as natural a state as possible and it was almost as hard to take as The Year of the Dazzling Pubic Hair. She let her legs and armpits go unshaved, let her hair grow wild and long, till it was almost to her butt. And she would take long hikes at night in the woods behind the house. He had quite a shock the first time he woke up in the middle of the night to see a wild naked white woman, autumn leaves in her hair, perched in the opened bedroom window, dirt-covered toes curling over the sill, green eyes glowing in the dark, then pouncing across the room onto him, pulling the covers off, commandeering his dick, and jumping on it to ride him through her many orgasms, his crotch scratched by crumpling leaves that had gotten caught in her lower hair. She did this a number of times until the novelty wore off.

Maybe he was too buttoned-down. Maybe there was a wildness inside him that she was trying to tap, without saying so. Certainly when they were alone she was wild enough for both of them. But it was good to see her calm down and settle on "Plum".

He returned to reading his laptop. Tami kissed the shaved smoothness of his ebony scalp and scooted in across from him, beside her old roommate Jen. While shoveling in her third helping of potatoes she turned a bit, drew her leg up toward the microwave with her gymnast's flexibility, and with her dexterous toes tapped in ninety seconds for the eggs. A flick of her pinky toe and it turned on.

"Ooo ooo ooo," Leisha said in a raspy voice. Tami smiled. Her friends sometimes made chimp sounds when she used her feet like hands. For her it had been a natural progression, going around in bare feet for three years with toes always out there and available. It also made the wedding band more noticeable, on the third toe of her left foot, matching the larger one which Rod wore in the conventional place.

"Going to Killington today?" Rod asked. (The biggest ski center in Vermont.)

"Not sure. Might be too warm," Jen said, leaning against Leisha. They were more or less bumming around the region until Leisha's next anthropology conference in Montreal. Jen, daughter of wealth, was conducting a very low-key job search, hoping to land an assistant professorship next fall.

Rod tapped a few keys. "Says it'll be cloudy today, possible rain, up to 40."

Tami stretched and thrust out her breasts. "No, that's wrong."

Jen smiled. "Accu-tits weather."

The naked 22-year-old got up and stretched again, giving Jen and Leisha a mouth-watering view of her breasts riding up on her perfectly formed body. She tapped on her dark brown, permanently erect nipples with her index fingers and then flicked them up and down, making her breasts jiggle, giggling as her guests swooned. "Let me go out and check. I forgot the mail yesterday anyway."

After she had gone, Rod, checking sports scores, said, "See Tam's latest rescue?"

Jen and Leisha looked at each other with a flash of realization. "So that wasn't a dream."

"No, another girl from Teaser's." Rod exhaled. "Luci, the manager, called around midnight. I keep telling Tam it's not her place to put herself out so, but you know how she is. At least this one was just weepy and drunk. We put her on the couch in the sun room."

"I think Herr Remmler would have approved," Jen said, referring to the deceased professor emeritus at Chalfont who had willed this little house to Tami and her husband for as long as she was associated with the college. Rod shrugged helplessly. Providing emergency shelter for wayward strippers was one of many things he had to resign himself to, as husband of Queen Tami the Nude.

Tami returned sorting mail in her hands, tapping last night's fluffy snow off her toes, having padded silently down the driveway to the mailbox and no doubt waved at the ever-present Mrs. McBreer across the street. Having sampled the outside air, her nipples could give a more accurate forecast. "It's about 25 now, going up only to 35. Clear all day."

Leisha said, "Clear tomorrow too?"

"Vielleicht," Tami said, parking her butt down where it was before. One of the German words she still occasionally used -- they knew by now that "vielleicht" means "probably".

Another huge scoop of potatoes into her mouth, to the amusement of Jen and Leisha. It was often remarked that during the cold months, Tami ate like a hog.

They breakfasted silently for a moment, Rod reading his laptop, the two African-American women wiping up the last of the syrup as they leaned against each other, about as true as true love can get.

Rod could sense it before it actually happened. Beneath the table, Tami's snow-encrusted toes now caressed the crotch of his pants. "How about a quick go-round?"

Part 2

"Babe, you're going to kill me," he said for about the ten thousandth time.

"You're the one who attacked me, last night," the naked girl countered.

"It was more like you attacking me," he said.

"That was only the second time."

"And the third."

After a quick wink to Leisha, Jen quietly slid under the table. A quick inhale from Tami ensued.

"Thanks, Jen," Rod said. The experiments that Tami had been coerced into undergoing at Chalfont during that awful freshman year had created within her an insatiable sex drive which had not diminished after all this time. Rod knew that Tami's dedication to him was total, but also knew that he just did not have the time or the energy, or maybe the staying power, to keep her from climbing the walls all by himself.

It got worse after that bra and panties that had been so diabolically designed for her at Chalfont, with the bristles and dildos inside, got too uncomfortable for her to wear. It was a shame. It was the only thing she could wear after her allergy set in. They would be happily hanging out on the porch on a fall evening, him in his sweats and her in that bikini, conversation interrupted only by her quivering now and then as she worked the remote in her hand. Afterward she would be sated and happy for hours. But then, not far into her sophomore year, she felt confined with those straps around her back and her hips. According to Dr. Kantor, the behavioral therapist at Chalfont who had been assigned to cure her clothes aversion, it was simply another manifestation of the allergy.

Now the bristle bra and dildo panties hung, unused, in the closet. Add to this the odd fact that Tami just could not reach orgasm by her own hands. The help of others was just necessary. Rod had adjusted to that fact a long time ago. So he appreciated Jen's help. Besides, Jen had a kind of seniority.

Under the table, Jen's tongue worked her magic. It never took long with Tami. She swallowed, then lay her head back, eyes half-closed. Then soft, breathy moans escaped between her deepening breaths. Tami's orgasms had a wonderful diversity, every one was different, but the general signs of her ascent were well known. One foot came up to brace against the wall next to the microwave, as if she was about to defy gravity and walk up sideways. Leisha cradled the other foot in her lap. Toes spread and the naked young woman swallowed quickly, then held her breath as she waited for the onslaught. Rod lifted his coffee off the table.

"Zhh!! Zhh!! Zhh!!" Eyes exploded open. Her knees jerked up with each jolt, banging up against the table and causing plates to clatter (but not coffee to spill). Rod disengaged himself from today's news and looked at his beautiful wife. One could only smile. He never tired of seeing her face registering the greatest physical pleasure a person can know. This was a really violent one, her body showed incredible strength -- he almost believed she could lift a car with her upward jerks. He admired Jen's virtuosity. He had gotten better at oral sex over the past few years, but maybe it takes a woman to really know what works best on another woman.

In fact he was convinced of it. Tami and her female "fans" (as he thought of them) seemed to occupy a world different from his. A totally female world. The last time Jen and Leisha visited was memorable. It was one of those Saturdays he'd had to work. He left after lunch, Tami sitting like she often did, cross-legged on top of the living room table, with her two seated friends holding her hands. Jen had brought some white wine and bread and cheese; Jen liked to bring in some elegant props and it was unspoken that they were getting ready for one of their little "events".

He got to the project -- restoring an old dam near the Canadian border -- and it was hard for him to concentrate. His mind wandered so much that the jeep he was driving almost drifted off the service road at one point. He kept wondering, what are they doing to her now? His mind relaxed after about three o'clock, realizing they must be finished and sitting around, maybe while Tami took one of her frequent afternoon naps.

The job took longer than he thought. At six he called home but there was no answer. He left a message on the machine promising to be back at nine sharp. When that time finally rolled around, bleary-eyed and exhausted, he rolled into the driveway and stumbled into the living room.

He was stunned. They were still at it. Tami was on the table, on all fours, covered in sweat, her hair dripping around her face. Behind her, Jen was slowly working a big ribbed dildo in and out of her rectum, while licking her pussy, drawing out the lips, poking at the clit with the tip of her tongue. Leisha, sitting on the other end, had drawn the end of Tami's stretched breast into her mouth, vigorously sucking on the nipple while reaching over to rub the other nipple between her thumb and forefinger. Tami's whole body was tight as a drum, her toes twitching, suspended right on the brink.

Had they been going all this time? Jen and Leisha were still fully dressed, not a button undone. Had Tami been pleasured for nine hours straight? Had they given her a breather? How many times had she come? Were there any limits at all to the sexual capacity of his naked wife? Questions flooded his suddenly awake mind. The wine had almost all been drunk, some crumbs of bread still on the plate. It was as if Tami was the main course.

He had sometimes resented it -- he sometimes imagined they were seeing how many orgasms they could get out of her, playing her like a pinball machine. Yet that was not it. It was something more like communion -- maybe Tami, raised Catholic, got some kind of fulfillment out of it, Catholicism had always been something alien to him -- or maybe more like worship.

It turned out, unexpectedly, to be romantic. The three women did not appear to notice his approach. But then as he got near the table Jen and Leisha accelerated their ministrations, and as he circled Tami's shaking body and came around to her sweaty face, he caught a look in her half-opened, feverish eyes that could only be called pure love. He then knew what to do -- he bent over and kissed her, a full-throated kiss, and as he did she lurched forward, moaned loudly into his mouth, and her whole body spasmed, and spasmed again.

More followed. It was a powerful orgasm even for Tami. Her whole body quaked and quaked, as Jen and Leisha hung on for dear life and he kept his lips on hers, grasping the damp hair behind her head, and she held her lips to his to the extent she could. The whole event, the whole nine hours, had been a preparation, waiting for him to join her as she scaled and reached what must have been the pinnacle of ecstasy.

Rod thought of that time as, now at the breakfast table, he saw the post-orgasmic catching of breath, the slight sheen of sweat, the hands that went under the table to caress Jen's hair, which nowadays was set in short cornrows. Tami was descending to the plateau now, from whence she could rise and then rise again -- "going up", she called it. Leisha watched intently too.

Inconsequentially, the microwave beeped and the eggs were ready.

Now the ascent to the second orgasm.

"Rrringg!!"

Rod was about to get up when Tami reached up with a sharp motion and got the phone. Maybe it was her good-girl, straight-A sense of duty, her Catholic upbringing, but she would not let her orgasms interfere with anything. She pushed down the crest with a visible effort. "H - hello."

"Oh hi Wanda," she said with a smile and she relaxed and went back to riding Jen's tongue. She looked and fondled the cornrows. "Wow. C - congratulationsssss!!" She seemed happily surprised and glad for her old friend. To Rod and Leisha she said, "W - Wanda's b - been hired by th - the B - Boston D.A. off -- off -- office -- Ohhhh!"

Her eyes opened to the ceiling and lost focus as they always did just as an orgasm began. She was listening to what Wanda was saying, or at least trying to. How did she do that? He had asked her once -- "I just play back in my mind what I just heard." It probably took practice, but of course, she had had plenty of that.

Spasms and little grunts followed. She was holding back her vocalizations so she could hear better. Then she looked down at Jen. "W - wanda says hi." She hadn't needed to mention Jen's name.

"Ohh!" Her pelvis jerked. Jen had apparently delivered a little rough suction to Tami's clit. This was Jen's way of saying, "Hi, Wanda."

Jen and Wanda continued to converse through Tami's body for a little while, sentences, pauses, commas, an occasional exclamation point. Then: "T - tomorrow night then -- ohhhh!. . . OK . . ." After replacing the receiver with great effort Tami exhaled and caressed Jen's hair, lurched one final time, then came down from the plateau at last. "Mmmmm . . . " After a few moments Jen came up to lay her head against Tami's breasts, like a contented baby with a tummy full of mother's milk.

Rod felt his dick, recently given up for dead, stirring. It was Tami's musk, which filled the room and made it hot and humid. He might or might not be able to get fully erect again but it was a moot point; it was time to go to work. He put the laptop on "hibernate" and went to get his briefcase. When he returned a couple of minutes later he said, "Your guest is up. I found her in the hall."

Tami, by then back in this world with her orange juice and eggs, said, "Tell her to come in. She must be hungry."




Tami Beethoven



"She's too shy. She'd rather stay in her room. . . Well, good-bye Babe." Off to his new engineer job in Burlington, his first real job after the year with the Army Corps of Engineers which had been a condition of his scholarship to Campbell-Frank.

Tami stood her naked self in front of him, her breasts jiggling as she straightened his tie.

"Thanks Mom," he said.

"'Clothes make the man,'" she said as she looked him up and down admiringly.

Which was greeted with a snort. He put his finger behind his tie. "Akk. If the world is ruled by men, how come we have to wear ties?"

"Because it's not ruled by SMART men."

"What's on today, Babe?"

"Aside from the usual, I have the presentation in Fashion Design with Gretchen. I think she'll be all right. Also they want to see me about something. Then Kantor."

Rod exhaled in exasperation. "It just goes on and on. Why doesn't Kantor or Abu Jamal talk to you? I think they're holding back on something."

"Oh I KNOW they're holding back," Tami said. "They'll tell me when they're ready." Once again, the odd fact: Rod wanted one of the many therapies they had tried to finally work, while Tami seemed to take it one day at a time.

A slow kiss on the lips, bare arms around his coat, tan midriff against his belt buckle, toes wrapping around his gumshoe boots, and Rod was gone.

Part 3

She woke groggily but then with a sudden sense of alarm. She was in a strange bed. The strap of her camisole had pulled off her shoulder and she straightened it. Her black vinyl pants were bunched up too. She poked her head up from the covers like a ground hog. What had she gotten herself into? Had somebody dragged her half-naked drunk body into bed and humped her? She had heard of that happening --

Fortunately her private parts did not hurt. She felt more or less in one piece, except for the hangover. And this sun room she was in did not seem sleazy, in fact it seemed respectable and neat.

Taking care not to move too fast -- with her hangover she could easily get dizzy -- she got up and saw that her shoes were placed neatly on the floor. She clumsily slipped her bare feet into the glass-bottomed, four-inch-high platform sandals and, straightening out her long black hair behind her, took stock of where she was.

A nice little house. As she lurched into the next room, a living room, she tried to dismiss the weird dream from last night. Practically being thrown into the cold night air, a cold ride in a pickup truck with someone who spoke gibberish, then a naked super-woman picking her up like she weighed nothing and carrying her inside. It was obviously a dream, at least the last part.

Pierre, Pierre . . . I know he won't forgive me for this . . .

She heard voices far away somewhere. Trying to trace their source she found herself in what must be a master bedroom. A queen-size bed, recently slept in. An open closet with lots of clothes -- just men's clothes. She looked around for women's clothes and shoes and found none. Just a guy must live here. She also noticed that the covers were thrown back on only one side of the bed. Single. And a gentleman, not to have screwed her last night.

There was a big window showing the back yard, and a computer table with books and papers, a monitor and keyboard. The mouse and its pad were on the floor, under the chair. Weird.

Her eyes were arrested by the pictures on the dresser. Naked girls. No, they were all the same girl. That super-woman? The big photo, in the middle, with her standing on a riser in front of a cheering crowd, flowers in her hair, next to a young black man in a white formal type coat. It could be a wedding picture, but for the missing bridal gown. A young lady in a minister outfit is next to them, and a straggly-looking bearded guy in a blazer and jeans. The naked girl looks so out of place, with everyone else fully clothed.

Another picture, the same naked girl, sitting on a throne wearing a tiara, with an exaggerated haughty expression. Below her, on some steps with a red carpet, three girls in matching red and black, bowing to her. One was white, one was thin and black, another was Hispanic-looking with giant tits almost spilling out of her low-cut dress. Another picture, of the naked girl in the tiara, this time with her arm around another girl, thin and white and kind of no-nonsense looking, in a kind of business suit.

Some smaller pictures of the naked girl with what must be a brother and her parents, cropped at her bare shoulders. Now the same brother it looked like, in uniform next to an American flag. There she is with her shoulders again, next to the black guy, this time he's in a black graduation gown, with what must be his parents. The father is bent over and supports himself with a cane. Quite a contrast in that photo, with her bare white skin.

On the other wall a large painting caught her eye. Somehow she hadn't noticed it before. It was the same girl, in a chair in what looked like the stacks of a library, pausing from reading a book as if pleasantly surprised to see the viewer. The book is half-open in her hands over her flat tummy. Totally naked, her pubic hair and breasts on full view, yet not showing them off either. Her attitude was strange -- not at all like a stripper, just the opposite. As if she didn't even know she was naked. Both her face and her body are beautiful, as if the artist was in love with her.

Now on another little table, set apart, a frame with photos of a tall, friendly-looking guy with black curly hair, wearing a long black coat, and a girl in red lipstick in a black dress with a real long string of pearls, leaning against a lamp post, her hips playfully swayed and her head tilted, like a hooker. This is the white girl from the throne photo. Between them, a photo of the World Trade Center.

She looked at the doorway, thinking she heard a movement. I shouldn't be in here. So she scampered back into the hall, realizing how loud these ridiculous stripper shoes were on the hardwood floor. Still a bit hung over and disoriented, she made a wrong turn and found herself facing a bathroom. Too late to turn back. So she went in, her shoes stomping on the little tiles, and closed the door.

No sound. She found that she did have to pee and sat down. The bathroom was tiny. As she exhaled and let it flow she looked at the bathtub and shower right next to her and realized that there wasn't just a guy living here. Three bottles of shampoo, one of conditioner, then some hair coloring. They couldn't be for the guy because his head was shaved. On the sink were a brush with reddish hair in it, and a long comb. Also a very short little comb, like guys might use on a moustache. Odd, the guy in the pics didn't have a moustache. What's the little comb for?

Reaching over for the toilet paper she was startled to see a big blue rubber bag on the floor with a narrow tube coming out of it. Where had she seen that before? Oh right -- that dancer Lita had one, who kept talking the virtues of anal sex. Ewww, an enema bag. Well, now I know more about this girl living here than I really want to.

And now she detected the faint odor of vomit. She thought: great. She's bulimic too.

Back to the bed in that little sun room. She waited and there was no motion. She got up again.

"Oh," she said, startled in the hall by a tall black man about 25 years old, with a shaved head and wire-rimmed glasses, in a suit and big brown boots. This was the guy from the photos.

"Hello, are you feeling O.K.?" he said, with concern.

"Oui . . . Merci . . . yes. . ." She was babbling.

"You were quite a mess last night. You probably need some food in you."

That would ease the hangover, at least. She smelled eggs and pancakes cooking from somewhere. A telephone rang and there were female voices. Uh - oh . . . a woman gasping as if she were crying. Some kind of scene was going on.

"I still am need to sleep," she said. She couldn't concentrate to speak good English right now.

"O.K. I have to go. My wife's name is Tami. You can't miss her," he added with a smile. "She'll take you to the help center. Good luck getting back on your feet."

She watched him go. She wanted him to stay. Anything to keep from the clutches of this Tami girl. She was getting a very bad feeling about her. Into anal sex, bulimic, takes naked pictures, even with her family -- and now she's breaking down in the kitchen. How did this O.K. seeming guy get involved with her? And why was he leaving her to cry in the kitchen? It made her own situation seem positively normal.

She tumbled back onto the refuge of the bed, wearing her shoes in bed even though it was impolite.

She couldn't stay there forever. It was about fifteen minutes later that she got her courage up to traverse the narrow little hallway, the walls studded with ornately framed black-and-white photos of old men and old women like from a hundred years ago. Then she turned the corner and --

"Hi, Yvette!"

The cheerful girl was next to the stove with a spatula in her hand, facing her as if glad to see her. And without a stitch of clothing. The naked super-woman, in the (bare) flesh! And with no sign of having cried.

Yvette, her mouth open, took in the bare breasts and pubic hair and bare legs. The only thing this girl was wearing was a little golden ring on one toe. Yvette shielded her eyes. "So sorry -- "

"No, it's O.K." she said with a laugh. "I'm Tami. Excuse my appearance. I'm allergic to clothes."

"That's right, she is," said Jen with a mouth full of pancakes. Leisha, also eating but a bit more refined, nodded in agreement.

Yvette slowly unshielded her eyes and accepted the invitation to sit down. There was a table setting in front of her. She nodded to the black women. Do they live here too? What kind of kinkiness was going on? Does the fact that this Tami is the only white person in the house have something to do with her showing her skin all the time?

She watched Tami's backside as she worked the stove. Yvette was a stripper and had seen plenty of naked women walking around, but only on stage or in the dressing room. At home, strippers tended to cover up. This was decidedly weird.

Yvette quickly blinked and realized: and what a body. Thin, firm, narrow waist, nice tits. And a pretty face with striking green eyes. She'd never seen a girl on the circuit so good-looking.

"Eggs, pancakes, bacon, cereal, oatmeal?" Tami said. "Tami's diner, at your service."

Yvette had taken in the ordinary, good-natured atmosphere in the room and decided it was impolite to act freaked out by Tami's nudity. After all, she should be grateful, a safe night's sleep in a clean bed. "Oatmeal, s'il vous plait."

Her mettle was tested again as Tami crouched and then leapt three feet up onto the counter. Her naked host opened the cupboard and stood up there and reached into a shelf near the ceiling. In the meantime she resumed a conversation she had been having with Jen.

"So what kind of job is that?"

Jen described a position that had opened up at Middlebury College that she was interested in. Tami said periodic "mm - hmm's" as she pushed aside boxes of cereal to get at the oatmeal. Meanwhile her toes reached over to the sink and turned on a faucet. Having found the oatmeal she searched further in for the honey. Two quick passes of her toes under the spigot to test if the water was getting hot, then the foot stretched over to the back burner for the kettle. "Mm -- hmm. . . Sounds kind of boring . . . Aren't you overqualified for that?" Clasping toes placed the kettle under the spigot. Tami hopped down with the oatmeal and honey, so gracefully that the only sound was the soft click of the toe ring as it hit the wood floor.

Yvette thought: this girl is like a monkey.

The oatmeal was very good, if a bit rough going down. Tami had simply poured the oats into a bowl and added hot water. "Better fiber that way," she said.

"Well . . . " Jen said.

Tami laughed. "Actually if I try to make it the real way, it's awful."

Jen and Leisha had to leave. Their bags were already packed in the hallway. They each hugged Tami's bare bod, but casually. They would be passing by again in a few weeks.

"If you don't mind, next time we come, let's make a day of it," Leisha said.

Tami paused and said, "I'd love that. The pleasure would be mine."

"You KNOW that's not true," Jen smiled.

And now Yvette found herself alone in the kitchen with this naked Tami girl.

She almost choked on the coffee. "Sorry, I don't realize how strong I make it," Tami said. Yvette had to load it with milk and sugar to make it drinkable.

"This is a 'safe home'," Tami said. "I'm supposed to take you to the help center here, part of the Campbell County Social Services department. I'm in no hurry, I don't have anywhere to go till ten." She paused as if for effect. "You don't have to talk to me, but I am here to listen if you do. I'll keep it a secret if you say so." Another pause. Tami began to stretch, her breasts jutting out, then seemed to check herself. She stretched out one leg and rested the bare heel on the far corner of the table. "You were quite a mess last night. I heard you threw up on stage."

"I almost threw up on you too, when you picked me off the ground."

"Actually you did."

"Oh -- I'm so sorry."

Tami smiled. "It's O.K. It's happened to me before."

Yvette sipped and thought. "I miss my boyfriend."

"What's his name?"

"Pierre. He got me this job and then we had a fight."

"Where is he now?"

"Ste. Catherine. He biked there yesterday."

"Quebec."

Yvette ventured a smile. "Oui."

"Sorry, my French is poor. That's 'ja', right?"

"No, I think it's 'si'." Yvette hadn't used this knowledge since high school. She suddenly remembered her mother saying, "You're smarter than you think you are."

"Funny, I thought it was 'da'."

The two young women giggled. Yvette's first giggle in a long time.

After a quiet moment Tami said, "You like that job? At Teaser's?"

"There's nothing wrong with being a dancer. The pay is good and it's safe," Yvette said defensively.

Tami looked as if she'd heard that a thousand times before. Then she took a deep breath. "I didn't mean to sound, like, judgmental. A lot of girls from there seem weirded out. Others are O.K. Or so I've heard. I've never actually been there."

Yvette looked at the bareness of Tami's breasts and did not know what to think. "Do you want to talk more about it?"

At the risk of being impolite to her host, Yvette said, "No. Sorry. No." She wondered about calling Pierre. No, it would be long distance from this phone. Also impolite.

"Well then let's get going." Tami got the keys that were hanging from the doorway. Yvette got up and followed her, with another twinge of disbelief. Surely she wasn't going outside in the winter -- like that?? There were no coats or boots in the doorway.

Tami opened the door and a gust of cold air hit Yvette. She shivered in her camisole.

Tami turned and put her hands on Yvette's shoulders. Yvette looked down at the tanned perfect body. Tami looked at the camisole, the vinyl pants, the sockless feet in platform sandals.

"The first thing to do," the naked girl said, "is to get you into some decent clothes."

Part 4

In the driveway, next to the tracks in the snow left by Rod's jeep, was an old, old yellow Volkswagen Beetle. Yvette, freezing in the doorway, watched in astonishment as Tami, holding up the key chain with one hand to separate out the correct key, walked over to it slowly and casually, bare feet slopping through the slushy snow covered with two inches of fluffy powder from last night. As she got to the driver's side she called back. "C'mon, Yvette. You'll be O.K. It's all in the mind. Besides, it's a real short ride."

It was a bright morning. The new snow was almost blinding. Yvette looked both ways, wondering if anyone saw this crazy naked girl, then rushed into the car.

She watched silently as Tami pumped the gas, bare toes curling over the padless metal that must feel colder than ice. Her breasts jiggled as she pulled the manual choke -- this was a really old model, like her grandfather used to have in Abitibi. Then Tami got out to the rear, opened the hood, and threw some kind of switch that got the motor to reluctantly kick over.

"Six volt system," she explained as bare buns settled back onto the ripped vinyl of the driver's seat. "The juice doesn't carry in the cold, so I had to put in a bypass on the fan shroud."

Yvette nodded like she knew what Tami was talking about. And then the old car lurched into action.

"Whoaa!" Yvette cried out as it swerved along the driveway, steadily propelled from behind but with the destination of the front end more uncertain. Tami swung the steering wheel back and forth like it was a bumper car in an amusement park. Yvette didn't feel in danger. This was fun. Tami laughed. "VW's are great in the snow. That's why I got this one."

Yvette was hoping for some heat, but then remembered that her grandfather's car was always cold. As they came to a stop sign she looked at the blank knobs on the dashboard. "Is there heat?"

"Theoretical heat, but not real. This has a stale air system. It's O.K., you don't really need heat in a car, unless you're on a long ride." Yvette did not ask what this naked girl did for long rides.

Now they turned onto what looked like the main street. Yvette had never been in the center of this town; Teaser's was on the outskirts. She looked around to see if anyone was noticing Tami's bareness. The tops of her breasts, at least, would be showing. But now a professor-looking type on the sidewalk waved at her. And a young couple carrying bookbags. Now, an old lady toting a cart with groceries. Tami waved back cheerfully to each.

Yvette smiled. "Everyone seems to know you."

"I've been here almost the whole four years." Then she turned closer to Yvette's face. "Also, I'm easy to recognize."

They pulled up to a church. Good God! Is she going to walk naked into --

When they got out it turned out they were actually going into a small clapboard house next to the church. A knock on the door and . . .

It was Rev. Josiah Stipend, a tall and strong-looking man in a rumpled minister's suit with gray hair almost covering his collar. "Welcome, Miss Tami," he said, not in a Southern accent, but in that lilt that Baptist preachers sometimes have.

"Good morning Reverend," Tami said respectfully but amiably. "This young woman stayed with me last night. Her name is Yvette. She could use some clothes."

The reverend nodded at Tami for a long second, then without looking below either woman's face, led them in a gentlemanly manner through a hallway, down some stairs, and into what looked like it might have originally been the house's garage. Aisles of donated clothes and shoes beckoned, so narrow that there was hardly room to get through.

A middle-aged woman, a kerchief holding back her hair, sat nearby sorting clothes on a low table. Behind her was a washer and dryer. "Hi Tami."

"Hi Mrs. Stipend."

Tami led her guest into the aisles, obviously knowing how the place was organized. "First you'll need some real pants . . ."

The Stipends looked at each other and then at the nakedness among the clothes. Rev. Stipend could not help reflecting on his past experience with Tami. He used to be a real firebrand, one of the hellfire members of the college Scholarship Committee. He could not forget the committee's visit to the Dixon Mill to see Tami at her grounds crew assignment, her sweating nakedness on display as her bare feet trod the blades of that awful double treadmill. How he had berated her sinfulness then, and also later when she was summoned to appear before the committee in those special bra and panties which contained protrusions invading her inner cavities, bringing her to climax after climax while being forced to answer their questions.




Tami Beethoven



It was only later that he found out that she was a modest girl who did not want to be naked, and who had been forced into that escalating series of humiliations by Dean Jorgon and Henry Ross who were trying to get her to renounce her scholarship. And that, after Jorgon had resigned and Ross had disappeared and the whole injustice came to light, she discovered she had developed an allergy to clothes and shoes of any type.

What remarkable iron within those young features! He wrote her a letter of apology but knew that was not enough. He prayed for several nights trying to find forgiveness. Finally he met with her in the faculty lounge and asked her forgiveness in person. For a person of his pride it was not easy. She said nothing for a long moment, and then to his surprise she embraced him tearfully.

That experience profoundly changed him. Also, events in the outside world over the past couple of years had convinced him that fundamentalism was perhaps not the way to go. Fortunately most of his congregation followed him as he edged leftward. The lengthening hair was but a trivial sign of it. He peppered his sermons less and less with condemnation and more and more with social justice and compassion. It turned out not to be that hard. Support in scripture was certainly easy to find.

The idea that came to him to set up a clothing closet had such an obvious and questionable origin that he resisted it for a while, but it was simply the right thing to do. In this often cold climate there were many poor people, not so much in town but in the surrounding area, that would benefit. He was aware why he got the idea, through his partial embrace of Freud. Herr Remmler's mentor had made some penetrating observations. Rev. Stipend wanted most of all to give Tami Smithers clothes. Setting up the closet was a sublimation of that desire. Sublimation, he now knew, sometimes had its uses.

Tami and Yvette emerged from the aisles, Yvette carrying jeans, a coat, a flannel shirt, and tall leather boots. Tami carried a furry, Russian-style hat.

"You can take more," he said, then realized he was actually talking to Tami. What a cross she had to bear. Yet she carried it almost joyfully.

Tami seemed about to turn back, then said, "No, this will do. Thank you."

"Any time, my dear -- Tami."

Going back to the car, Yvette remarked, "For a cleric he is a nice man." Tami laughed.

Another quick jaunt in Tami's cold little metal crate and they were back at the house. Tami sent Yvette into the shower.

Yvette came out wrapped in a towel, with another around her hair. "Come over here." She followed the voice to the master bedroom where Tami had her "new" clothes laid out on the now completely made-up bed. Tami was rummaging through a drawer. As she bent over with a total lack of bashfulness, the brown asterisk of her butthole was almost in Yvette's face. Yvette tried not to look.

"You probably want some socks under those boots," Tami said. "Rod has some extras. Sorry I don't have any women's underwear."

"No?"

"No. I don't own any clothes of course. . . I'll be in the kitchen, calling the help center."

Yvette took her time with dressing. She couldn't help but smile as she presented herself to Tami in the kitchen. Though second-hand, the shirt, jeans, the coat, even the Russian hat, looked very good on her. This Tami had excellent fashion sense.

She felt like a little girl getting ready for a party as Tami fussed over the blouse and the coat. Absently looking at the jiggling bare nipples, she said, "Tami, your body is most fine. You could make a million dollars dancing on the circuit."

At this her clothesless host just smiled.

A few minutes later, the old VW, back in town, parked on the main street. They were about to get out and Yvette, sensing their time together was about to end, could not resist asking. "Tami. How can you stand being without clothes in this weather so cold?"

"It's mostly in the mind," Tami replied, as if having been asked this question many times and having rehearsed and refined the answer. "To some extent my body has gotten used to it. In the cold weather I eat like a pig and my metabolism is higher. Of course I can't stay out for, like, hours or anything like that. Or if it's super-cold. Keeping moving is important."

"How long have you been like this?"

"This is my fourth winter. The first one was rough. The second one, I kept testing my limits, seeing what was possible. By the third winter, I knew how to handle the cold so automatically, that I hardly thought about it."

They were getting out of the car now. A tall woman in stylishly bohemian clothes and stiletto heel boots stopped by. Next to her was a much older woman with a cane, in a big fake-fur coat and a green flowery hat.

"Hi, Tami," Assistant Dean Vanessa Congi said.

"Hello dear," the lady in the green hat, Professor Emeritus Mildred George, said in her scratchy old voice.

"This is my friend Yvette," Tami said graciously as she shuffled around the back of the Beetle to turn off the bypass switch. Yvette shook hands with each, a little ladylike clasp. As the naked girl came around to where they were, Professor Congi said, "That's a beautiful shade of hair, Tami."

"Oh thanks." Tami looked down at her pubic patch. This made Yvette half cover her eyes.

"I see your nails all match your hair color," Mrs. George said admiringly.

"I did them myself."

"It looks professional."

"Gee thanks," Tami said, blushing over and above the usual flush from the cold. As they looked down she lifted a foot and spread her toes. The plum-colored toenails, graced with crystals of fresh snow, sparkled in the bright morning sun, a strange and beautiful sight.

Professor Congi looked a bit further up. "Did you also color your clitoris?" She remembered what Tami had been like as a sophomore.

"No," Tami laughed, looking down there with the rest of them. She spread her labia with her thumbs. "That's just my lips. See, on cold days she stays inside." The little pink clitoris, lighter in color than the lips or the hair, poked out wetly and tentatively in the cold brightness as the two older women, bundled in their winter clothes and boots, looked appreciatively, Mrs. George leaning on her cane.

"Hi!" Professor said playfully with a little wave.

"Hi hi," Tami said in a high-pitched singsong, with little jerks of her internal muscles making the clit jump up and down twice. The older women got quite a kick out of that.

Yvette, feeling faint, stood up and looked at the blue sky and took a deep breath. After some minor chit-chat the two grown-ups left.

As they were getting Yvette's bag out of the car, her mind returned to the main subject of her curiosity. "And this fourth winter?"

"What?"

"You said how you dealt with going through the first three winters. This is your fourth. How is it?"

"Well," Tami said, standing next to her. "Now -- it's -- fun!!"

She kicked snow up with her toes, pressed it down on the other foot, then all in the same motion with a soccer player's skill kicked the little snowball right into Yvette's face just as she said "fun"!

"Eeeek!" Yvette brushed it away but it was followed by another. She ran behind the car, laughing, and decided retaliation was necessary. When she emerged a big sloppy snowball hit Tami right on her tanned concave tummy. This elicited a left-handed curveball that hit the shoulder of her coat.

The two young women ran around and around the Beetle, Yvette clumping around in her boots, bits of snow flying back from Tami's toes. It was not a fair fight, of course. Tami seemed to be a natural pitcher, and could produce an "eeek!" whenever she hit Yvette's face or neck. Landing snowballs on Tami's naked skin, already used to the cold, did not have the same effect.

The Quebecois girl was flushed and disheveled when Tami brought her into the help center, but was cheerful and smiling which would make her easier for the case manager to work with. "Thank you, thank you, merci," was all Yvette could say as she said goodbye to her naked new friend, hugging her tightly, enjoying the soft feel of the breasts crushed against her coat, and even betraying a sniffle or two, only partly from having been out in the cold.

Part 5

"I have come into your life to redeem your image of bio majors," said Gretchen, a tall, blonde, blue-eyed, somewhat chunky girl Tami's age. "We are not all dweebs. We are not all virgins. We do not all spend our time trying to make Tami Smithers miserable with fourth-grader antics. In fact, MOST of us are not any of that."

Gretchen had made this declaration to Tami three years ago during their freshman year, sharing a salad in the dining hall after a particularly odious episode of abuse from Gretchen's classmate Lorinda and her friends. On that occasion Tami, having been outfitted for the day with the bristle bra and dildo panties ostensibly for scientific purposes, defended Gretchen against chatter that was too loud not to be overheard, spreading their opinion to half the world that Gretchen had faked a sprained ankle to avoid a big exam. Standing in the middle of the circle of dweeby girls outside the bio building on a gray spring day, the 18-year-old Tami labored to articulate her protest amidst the internal frictionings and vibrations activated by the remote controls that had somehow made their way into their hands.

Gretchen, hobbling unnoticed toward them on crutches, would never forget the scene. "She's -- ohhh! -- more dedicated than you -- ohhh -- will ever -- beeeee!!!!!" The girls squealed with delight as the last word stretched out under the influence of the vibrations and bristlings as Tami crested. "Woo hoo! Another one! Up to fifteen!" said Betsy, reading the LCD display on the tiny pubic covering. "Come again, baby!!" Lorinda joined in, immediately renewing the assault. Tami's body bounced up and down like a marionette, her feet slapping crazily on the cold concrete, as they coordinated their attack, sliding the rheostats up and down in unison and enjoying Tami's words cadencing up and down accordingly. "You are acting so -- imm -- mm -- mature . . . If she d - didn't have to g - go to the same class she wouldn't -- OHH!" (she arched her back here) "have anything to do with youu . . . Kchkk . . .Eeeeeee!" Her eyes bugged open as the rear dildo vibrations were shot up to maximum.

They saw Gretchen and fled. At the risk of letting her crutch drop the lame girl put her arm around Tami's bare shoulders as her quaking gradually ceased. When Tami was breathing more or less normally and it seemed none of the dozens of remotes at large were in range, they went to the dining hall, Tami walking stiffly under the influence of the dildos and bristles that still rubbed on her and within her with every step.

Since then Gretchen, who had been hanging out with Tami but had not gotten close, became a good friend, and after the graduation of Jen and Rebecca and Marisol, probably her best friend on campus. Tami, without any effort, inspired deep devotion in anyone who got to know her, and Gretchen was no exception. From a different but equally conservative background as Tami -- Gretchen was from a straight-laced dairy farm family in upstate New York with a fiancé in the Army -- she and Tami put their work ethics and majors together and developed a joint term project, developing a biodegradable polymer from which fabric could hopefully be made that both insulated against cold and breathed in the heat.

So it was that they could be found together, at 10:30 a.m., in the biochem lab in Rockley Hall. Gretchen, in goggles and an apron, had poured the contents of a test tube onto the aluminum substrate. Tami, holding her goggles up to her eyes because her allergy did not allow her to put the straps around her head, watched from behind, glancing downward to make sure her feet were not touching anything on the floor that looked like a chemical stain.

The solution partially dried on the aluminum amid a slight cloud of smoke.

"We're getting there," Gretchen said.

"Do you think my nucleotide formula was correct?"

"I assume so. Your calculus is a lot better than mine."

"Maybe we need less alkyne," Tami said.

The solution was supposed to dry almost immediately, then be rolled into a thread for weaving. This was the third try and they were getting close. Their professors had already given them an A for the project but both had further ambitions for it.

Tami looked at the clock and smiled. "It's almost showtime."

Gretchen smiled behind the goggles. "You're really making me go through with this, right?"

After cleanup they were on their way to Thayer Hall, where the "Department of Fashion Technology" classes were held. Professor Wanamaker, looking quite the denizen of the fashion world with his ascot and paisley shirt, sat in the back of one of the basement classrooms while his Reinventing Fashion class did their midterm in-class reports.

There were three scheduled today. Tami, who was only minoring in Fashion but, being Tami, was headed for an A, was first up.

Bracing her hands behind her on the front table where her papers lay, Tami stood bolt upright in front of the class, giving them an unembarrassed full frontal view of her statuesque nakedness. Her topic: measuring bra size.

"My, uh, project is on a very basic topic, but I think one that maybe could be done better." Tami had little trouble with public speaking, having been Vice President of the student government in her sophomore year. "I think you girls, anyway, could identify. I remember --" she looked up at the ceiling, maybe a bit uneasily, her big toe twisting onto the dusty tile floor, "buying a bra that I was sure was the right size, only to get home and it was, like, too tight, or else I was swimming around in it. Or maybe, did you ever," she said, looking at a couple of the female students toward the front, "maybe you hadn't eaten all day, and your, uh, breasts" (one could tell that in this classroom setting she had stopped herself from saying "boobs") "were far apart, like this" -- she looked down and, cupping her breasts, separated them -- "and the bra didn't bring them together, or if you ate a lot of pizza or something, they were bigger and more mooshed together" -- the ideal model for what she was talking about, Tami compressed her breasts so that they met -- "and the bra pulled them apart?"

Some sounds of agreement and nodding from the female students. There were three male students, and being gay they were less interested, but polite. Tami was popular with them too.

Wanamaker said, "So what is your solution, Tami?" Tami didn't need it but, after years of seeing students freeze up while giving oral reports, he automatically interjected to help things along.

Turning around to pick up the papers, giving the class a view of her beautifully formed butt, Tami turned back to say, "The problem arises from the, uh, conventional method of measuring bust size. Look at page 137 of the Basics of Design text."

They could all see a slight sheen of sweat on Tami's face and her concave tummy, but this was not due to nervousness. It was well known that in the winter Tami, with her increased metabolism, often felt hot after spending some time indoors. Also this basement room was stuffy. Tami looked at Claire in the back row. "Claire, could you read the first step in that list, on the left?"

Claire, a very thin Asian girl in a silk puff-sleeve blouse, white jeans and high-heel black boots, found the page and said, "You mean where it says measure rib cage, then across nippples?"

"No, before that. The first step."

"O.K. 'Step One. Stand upright in a bra that fits correctly.'"

She looked up at Tami who had a little smile on her face. It sank in quickly. Wanamaker laughed and so did some others. With a big smile Tami said, "Now how it tells you how to measure the rib cage and across the nipples, but first you have to wear a bra that fits." She was a little animated now, moving her hands, her breasts jiggling. "It's like the joke about the germ killer that says, 'use only in well-ventilated area'. But if it was well ventilated, there wouldn't be germs in the first place.

"My solution involves some calculus," she said, turning to the blackboard, making some of the students groan. Wanamaker good-naturedly said, "O.K., people." As she wrote Tami held the papers in her right hand, her butt jiggling ever so slightly, quarter-phase glimpses of her bouncing breasts sometimes being seen. She was drawing a section of a cone, some curves, an integral... "Make it understandable, Tami. I don't want to clip your wings but we've never had a math major in this class before."

Tami got into the explanation of it and most of the class could partly understand, or thought they did. "My model is that of a parabola. Almost all women have breasts that can be fitted into parabolic cups. I made some computer models."

The room went dark and the big screen to the side lit up. A purple torso with two blue parabolic solids jutting out with some equations on the bottom in a neutral font. "Ooooo," someone said teasingly. "Finally, someone uses our new flat-screen," Wanamaker said.

"This is the paraboloid of a C cup. And now, D, and double D, or E in the British system. Here's B and A." A few more images and Tami darted to her right and turned the lights back on. "You can see that, with the breasts free and not wearing a bra, the cross-nipple measurement is plugged into the parabolic formula, and you translate that into cup size."

"How do you know this would be comfortable for all women?" Wanamaker said.

"Breasts are more pliable than even a lot women think, at least I believe so. I'll show you." Tami walked forward so that she was between the two students in the front row. "This would be a spherical model," she said, grasping her breasts from the front with her palms almost flat against the nipples. "From there you can go to the paraboloid, then the hyperboloid." She cupped her hands around her breasts, then squeezed a slight bit and then a bit more. "Finally there is the cone shape." She squeezed now so that her nipples were sticking out. "This was the 'bullet bra' from the 1950's." She stood in profile, both hands on one breast now, squeezing toward the base with one while the other pulled out on the nipple, extending out from her body quite a ways.

"And those were very uncomfortable, I hear," Wanamaker said.

"But that's because of the materials used, which were specifically designed to extend the shape. If the softer fabrics are used, and of course, if the bra size was measured correctly to begin with..."

"It sure looks like you're squeezing your tits out," another girl said, then looked back at the professor. "Sorry about the language, but it looks painful."

"I ask everyone to try it, all you women, next time you're in the shower," their naked classmate said. "It's not as bad as you think."

Wanamaker thought of saying, "All I can think of is B & D pornography, where women get their breasts tied up and clipped," but of course he didn't. As a heterosexual male, he had a fascination with breasts that practically no one else in his field shared.

"Anyway," Tami said, "we're not talking about conical projections, like that bra Madonna wore in the '90's. They would not be a good idea anyway just before you're period when you naturally have lumps, especially around here," she said, lifting her arm and tracing the side of the mound under her shaved armpit. "My model is with paraboloids. And now, my real life model," Tami said.

Gretchen, leaving her coat on the chair, got up from her place near the door. Protectively draped in her white sweater, she bashfully folded her arms in front of her as she stood next to Tami, a tall girl slouching, looking down at her uneasy suede boots next to Tami's confident bare feet.




Tami Beethoven



"Gretchen is a bio major who graciously, uh, I mean was cajoled, into serving as my guinea pig. Now up here on the screen, these are CG fill-ins -- NOT photos, I'll have you know -- of her breasts. Note the measurements, plugged into the formula, and it shows she's a 38C. Now here is an actual photo of her wearing the cotton turtleneck she's got on now. . . Of course, now she has a sweater over it. Note the bulging on top in the photo. Though she measured herself in the standard fashion, it came out to 38B and the bra did not fit."

The lights were on again and Tami and Gretchen looked at each other. "I can tell you're nervous," Tami said, glancing down slightly at her own erect brown nipples that had sensitivities well beyond being able to predict the weather.

As Gretchen bit her lip and took off her sweater, Tami said, "Here she is wearing a paraboloid bra I cobbled together in the dress lab, 38C. Come on, stick 'em out," she teased.

Gretchen took a deep breath and stood up straight, all five feet eleven inches of her, and turned this way and that. Her breasts stood out proud and paraboloid. No bulges or straps were visible.

"It looks excellent," Wanamaker said. "Very nice lines."

"Great set of guns, wouldn't you say?" Tami said.

The class laughed, and for a second Gretchen swayed this way and that, like a runway model. Then her upbringing kicked back in and she turned to snatch her sweater and slip it back on.

"That concludes my presentation," Tami said, gathering her papers. Gretchen scurried back to her seat.

"Thanks, Tami," Wanamaker said, but before Tami could sit down he added, "Let me say, that's beautiful hair color you've picked."

"Oh thanks." She looked down modestly, separating her legs slightly, pushing her pubic patch forward and placing her hands on both sides of it as if to frame it. "It's called 'Plum'."

Wanamaker was at a momentary loss. He had been referring to the hair on her head. But it was the same color so he let it go. Besides, come to think of it it looked good down there too.

After Tami sat down the professor, sitting in the back, used a few seconds of silence as most good professors know how to do. "Thanks, Gretchen, for helping out, and good to meet you... Tami Smithers: A, as usual. Good project, very inventive." A few people clapped. "Now the next, Claire, you're up..."

Part 6

Scholar's, the bar the Campbell-Frank students went to, or at least those who were of drinking age, was hopping tonight. It was packed despite the trouble one had negotiating the frozen slush that made the sidewalk an obstacle course. The people having a smoke outside stood perfectly still so as not to lose their balance and slip as they chatted with each other. Bill Patton and Howie, his old high school buddy who was visiting from Dartmouth, waited patiently to present their proof of age and get the backs of their hands stamped.

"Are you sure she's here?"

"Pretty sure. 70 percent sure. Friday nights all the regulars are here," Bill said.

Inside it was very loud. Oldies night. Nirvana tunes blasting away, and everybody talking loud to be heard over the tunes. It was hard to see more than two feet in front, with all the people. "Hey Bob," Bill said, suddenly colliding with a friend from the dorm. He introduced Howie and they got to chatting, or rather yelling.

"So is Tami here?" Bill didn't know her personally but everyone called her "Tami", except those close to her that might have more endearing names. It used to be "Naked Tami", but with her popularity, it got shortened.

"Saw her a minute ago," Bob said, pointing thataway with the top of his longneck Budweiser. "You have to keep a sharp eye."

Bill knew that well. The eyes of half the guys in the bar were glancing here and there, looking for that glimpse of bare skin that was so conspicuous in this crowd of parkas and overcoats. Others looked downward, looking for the flash of bare feet darting through the thick forest of boots and sneakers. Tami, being unburdened by any of these, could slip quickly through the crowd with ease, and slip across the entire bar within seconds, making her all that more elusive.

These Tami-watchers, dedicated as bird-watchers trying to sight a rare jaybird, suddenly found their efforts unnecessary as Tami hopped up onto the bar. Standing upright, longneck in her hand, she naturally attracted everyone's attention. The whole bar cheered, because she was Tami, the guys also cheering because, well, she was a naked girl.

She stretched her lips over her teeth and whistled loudly. Then took a sip of beer as Justin, the bartender, cut the music as planned.

"Attention everyone," she said. "I will now sit on this bottle. Just kidding!!" A loud chorus of, "Awwwww!!" from the guys. "No really, we have an alumna, or alumnae, or -- some kind of alumnimunim," another sip, "who just got a job as prosecutor in the Boston D.A. office and I want to dedicate a song to her. It's... it's..."

"Who -- is -- it?" a number of people shouted in unison.

"Wandabitch!!" Tami shouted, breasts bobbing, then she pointed her bottle down at Wanda Percival, looking not quite like a prosecutor in her sweatshirt, parka and jeans, hefting a bottle of cola. Tami bent down, in the process shaking her butt at some guys on the side who reflexively whistled, and pulled Wanda up onto the bar. Wanda clumped up onto it in her hiking boots.

The naked girl and the new prosecutor faced the crowd. Tami grabbed Wanda by the shoulder of the parka, and said, "You remember Wandabitch. Let's hear it!"

Indeed they did, or at least the juniors and seniors. The chant was spontaneous. "Wanda-bitch! Wanda-bitch! Wanda-bitch!"

When it died down a bit Tami said, "The meanest, most vicious, rottenest R.A. in Campbell-Frank history" -- she looked at Wanda as she said this and then put her arm around her -- "is now the meanest, most vicious, rottenest D.A. in New England. Don't mess with Wanda!!"

"Booooo!!" The boos were good-natured (mostly).

"There's only one song for you. I dedicate this to Wandabitch. We love you!! BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT HERE ANYMORE!!"

She had to shout over the first notes of "Bad to the Bone" that now blasted out. As the song went on and everyone went back to talking, the two young women hugged, Wanda wrapping the arm of her fur-lined parka around the small of Tami's bare back. Both were a little bit teary-eyed.

Bill, Howie and Bob, having had a nice view of Tami to hold them for awhile, circulated around the bar. A few minutes later Bob saw a flash of skin and happened upon Wanda and Tami speaking to a couple of others.

"Where are you going to live?" Bob shouted to Wanda. He glanced at Tami who was casually lifting her foot and turning the sole inward to check it. Must really be disgusting, walking barefoot on this sticky, beery floor. Sure enough, Tami's sole was black except under the arch. She put her foot down again, not seeming to mind. Probably she's used to it, just like she's used to the snow and the cold.

Wanda shouted, "Back Bay, probably. Or maybe Comm Ave just near BU."

Bob, not having known Wanda well, was not really interested in this conversation; he just wanted to look at Tami. But out-and-out gawking at Tami was simply not done. Any Campbell-Frank guy would find that out pretty quickly. After a few more words he said goodbye and went to find Howie and Bill.

Talk, shout, drink. About ten minutes later Bob finally found them, near the benches, watching what was a frequent sight at Scholar's. Tami, leaning back on a bench, was facing some girl who was sitting opposite with her long-lace boots planted in front of her. Tami was doing that trick of undoing and tying shoes with her toes. Arms draped behind her on the bench, one hand still grasping the longneck, Tami leaned back with her thighs wide open and her knees bent, skillfully lacing and looping the girl's boots from the bottom up. She paused to take another sip and then resumed. It looked like she was using all her toes.

Some, mostly guys, chose to stand behind the shod girl, facing Tami and studying the ripples of her abs as she worked, the wiggling of her breasts, the pussy that was slightly open between the wide-spread legs.

"Man, how does she do that??" Howie said.

"Practice, she can do anything with her feet," Bill said.

Bob took a thoughtful sip and said, "Being barefoot for four years, she probably just learned to use them. You could probably do it too with practice."

Bill said, "Howie? I think I'll pass on seeing that."

They laughed.

Now the first girl's boots were all tied and people clapped. Another girl, this one with sneakers, took her place. Tami's big toes, anchored by her pinky toes, undid the big loops and she got to work. Tami could do this on almost any kind of footwear, even after three beers.

The last glimpse Bob, Bill and Howie had of Tami that night was after they had left the bar and were walking back to campus. They only made it about a hundred feet from the bar when Bill suddenly felt the pressure of a full bladder. Drinking a lot of beer and then going out into subfreezing air will do that. Bob and Howie stood around in the middle of the snow-covered town commons as Bill hunted through the tall shrubs for an inconspicuous spot.

As they waited they saw Tami with Wanda and another girl standing some distance away, near the convenience store. The three were apparently waiting for someone to come out. The other girl was smoking. Tami, arms at her sides, listened to the smoking girl, now and then rubbing her feet on the snow and lifting her soles inward to check them, tilting them just so to take advantage of the nearby streetlight.

It was the kind of still winter night when sound carries. So as not to be overheard, Bob and Howie spoke in quiet voices much unlike the yelling of a few minutes ago. "How does she do that?" Howie said. "She's standing there naked like it's not even cold." He blew on his hands. "Just my hands are freezing already!"

"She must have got used to it. For a few minutes, anyway."

"She's married?"

"Yup. And totally faithful. Don't even think about it. She'd kick your ass if you tried anything. I hear she's real strong."

"When she said she was going to sit on that beer bottle, for a second I believed her," Howie laughed.

"Oh man," Bob said, looking at the sky. "I hear with her friends she does that kind of thing on a dare, especially if she's had a few. I heard one time at an outdoor party, I think a birthday for one of her friends; she upended some beer into her pussy, then sat up, spread her legs, and squirted it out clear across the lawn."

"Holy christ. Think of the muscles in there! Her husband must be the luckiest guy in the world!"

"I'll say. Or maybe not. I'd be worried about her squeezing my dick off!"

Howie laughed. "So what's the story with her being naked again? She's allergic to clothes or something?"

"She said nudism was her religion when she was a freshman. She must have been a crazy kid then. Later she volunteered for some experiments, then at the end she found out she was allergic to clothes. They've been doing therapy to cure it ever since."

Howie was speechless for a moment. "Man, I should hope so. She should sue the hell out of them for that."

"That's the big mystery. Why she never sued. I suppose she wants to leave it in the past."

The girl with the cigarette dropped it in the snow and stamped it out. A guy came out of the convenience store. Tami, walking slowly and casually over the crusty, refrozen snow, followed them into his car.

Bill, sighing deeply, came back from the shrubs. He caught the last glimpse of Tami's bare soles disappearing into the back seat of the blue Chevy.

"Damn, missed her," Bill said, adjusting his fly.

"She might want to leave it in the past," Howie said, "but she's a senior now. What's she going to do when she graduates? Is she going to stay here forever?"

"It would be rough, going into the outside world as a naked girl," Bob said, his voice fading into the cold winter night as the three of them started on back toward campus.

Part 7

Tami looked so beautiful, her eyes half-closed in that combination of love and ecstasy, the look she always had when she was atop him. Rod gently rubbed her forearms up and down as her breath shortened and she began another ascent -- "going up" to that mountaintop of euphoria that she visited so often.

She knew he was a little tired tonight. So preoccupied with work. He was grateful to get home, and they did the usual thing, him tonguing her while she lay back on the kitchen table. It didn't take much tongue work, fortunately. He brought her to four orgasms in fifteen minutes, about the usual to hold her through supper. He declined her offer to suck him, fearing that after he came he would fall asleep when he had so much work to do. Then they cooked up a quick macaroni and cheese. Tami further fortified herself with a tuna sandwich. And a bowl of soup.

They spent the next two hours working, he in bed going over the plans for the next phase of the project that he was supposed to supervise, she on the computer finishing an English Literature paper. English was not her favorite subject; she was sometimes afraid of the unthinkable, getting a B, but of course that possibility was remote. Looking up at her at the computer table, he couldn't help but fall in love all over again despite his weariness. Such a lovely, intelligent face, such a beautiful, golden body... He did not mind that so many others admired it, it made him proud. He especially liked her response to the many well-intentioned suggestions that she get a tattoo. "Absolutely not. A tattoo would be on display all the time. It would be a message to everyone who saw me." Why ruin such perfection?

She still had the basic modesty that she always had, but had gotten comfortable with her nudity. Of course -- she had no choice, did she? She expressed it once to him during one of their post-sex chats. They were lying on their backs, looking up at the ceiling, holding hands. "I had a dream once where I was a serving maid for a king in a palace and I was naked all the time. All the other maids were fully clothed. For some reason I had to earn my clothes back. The king and his rich friends kept visiting me in the kitchen, or walking by when I was mopping the palace floor or something, saying, 'All you have to do is this floor, or be a good server at the next feast, and you'll get your clothes and shoes back.' And I was ever so industrious, saying to the other maids, 'All I got to do is this job,' and when it got done the king would say, 'Just one more thing and you'll get clothes', and give me another task, while the other maids just rolled their eyes at my stupidity. All those men really wanted to do was look at my body, stringing me along. Well, f**k that. I'm not going to be that stupid."

That was only the second time he ever heard her use the "f" word. "So how did the dream end?"

"I'm not sure. I think I just escaped. Hopped out the window and into the meadow. Naked and free and smart. I wasn't going to bargain with God any more. That was what that dream was about."

Still basically modest, but not above flaunting her body when he was around. He remembered the graduation party for his class. It was at a swanky estate the college owned not far away -- formerly lived in by that creep Henry Ross. Rod was out there on the lakefront patio with the full bar and the buffet table, sipping a soda and trying to stay interested in what his Architectural Design professor was saying. He glanced around the crowd of students and professors and administrators, wondering where the hell was Tami?

He looked out to the pond and saw, far away near the marine dock on the other side, a fish or goose or something splashing in the water. Looking at it more he saw it was not a fish. It was someone swimming toward them. As he sipped and looked a smile started across his face and grew and grew. By the time Tami was a hundred feet away everyone's attention was drawn.

Like it was nothing, she got to where her feet could touch bottom, then walked up to the transfixed and silent crowd, water coursing off her hair and chin and now her nipples and now her knees, her copper sleek wetness the most beautiful sight of his life. Casually she hopped her naked dripping self up onto the patio, greeted a couple of people she knew, accepted the offer of a big cloth napkin to quickly dab herself dry, then went up to Rod and gave him a full-body hug and a kiss on the lips. And then ordered a martini and took her place among the suits and dresses, blending in with the party as the general buzz of conversation gradually returned. What an entrance!

Water was definitely her element. Another vivid memory was last May when he came to meet her when she got off work. She was on that grounds crew job, the replacement for her gymnastics scholarship. She probably could have sloughed it off, but being Tami, felt obligated to continue. So she had always put in her twenty hours a week. The day had been brutally hot. Sweating buckets in his suit, he found her hefting uprooted shrubs into a chopper while the chopper driver, union labor no doubt, sat up in his cab. She grunted with every heave of the heavy shrubs, her body stained with dirt and sweat and leaves. As always, she had an audience, people stopping for a moment before going on with their business. When Tami saw Rod and knew her time was up, she said, "Hit me Jose!" Another worker, walking by past a water pipe, picked up the hose and trained it on her. She danced and spun around as the water pelted her all over, with her trademark "Woo - hoo!" as Jose laughed. One could feel, with some envy, her delicious sense of relief at being clean and cool. As she put it later, "Only I get to experience that!"

She was now proud of being naked, though the fact her condition had been forced on her was never mentioned when she was around. By now it was an open secret around campus that as a freshman she had declared nudity her religion and been cajoled into various research that left her with an allergy to clothes and a greatly increased sex drive. And that she had spent her first summer making it back from California without clothes or money or outdoor gear, just her bare body. But not all the details were known, certainly not the more unpleasant ones. The original reason for her nudity -- that she had been caught streaking on a sorority dare her first week, then to avoid expulsion frantically gave the excuse that nudity was her religion, which turned out to make the college afraid to expel her on First Amendment grounds, causing Dean Jorgon and Henry Ross, the campus attorney, to coerce her into an escalating series of humiliations to get her to admit that the religion claim was a hoax -- had never gotten out.

As to her family back in Providence, information was tightly controlled. She was absolutely clear that they should know nothing except for her decision to go naked and her allergy which was being cured. It would greatly concern her if they found out she had been so mistreated and been through so much shame and abuse. Even as to that horrible summer, the cover story she had fed her parents during her calls, that she was doing a project for one of her math professors -- they had never learned anything to the contrary. Fortunately there was little danger her parents would find out anything. Except for Tami and Rod, they didn't know anyone up here, and on the rare occasions that they spoke to one of her teachers, she would take the teacher aside first to make sure no hints of anything but a happy life leaked out.

Her current life really was happy though. One time a half-drunk guy at a party told her, "Too bad you can't wear clothes." Rod felt about to slug him when Tami, draining her beer, said, "Too bad you can't be naked."




Tami Beethoven



Professor Congi, always well-meaning if a bit dense, once asked her, on a hot sunny day outside the Student Union, "There are probably some advantages to being naked." Tami, basking in the sun, said, "Too many to list. Es gemutlich." Which he then explained, trying to translate as Tami looked on in amusement, meant "Naked is warm and fuzzy." They laughed at that. Another awkward Congi comment that they performed a judo move on to make it turn out well.

Tonight Rod's mind had been filled with these thoughts as he watched Tami zip through her assignment. There was nobody faster on a computer; her high school had been little more than a vo-tech school, with everyone taking typing and data entry. As with any fast typist, using a mouse slowed her down, but she inventively solved that problem by placing the mouse on the floor. Blazing away at the keyboard while working the click buttons with her toes, she flew through anything she was doing.

By and by Rod had gotten tired with his work and at a certain point he had lain back in his pajamas and closed his eyes, the blueprint falling to the floor. A few minutes later he felt gentle hands pulling down his bottoms, the warm engulfing mouth, and he smiled...

Now, with Tami on top of him, he watched as she crested and jerked through a series of spasms. What's that now -- number ten? Rod chided himself. Tami hated being kept score of. She came down slightly from the last orgasm, but only slightly. He knew what she wanted to feel and kept his hips thrust up. He held her hands down on the bed. In this way she could rub her clit against his pubic bone and stay on the brink. She liked doing this usually around the middle of their lovemaking. Eyes half-closed, breathing in short gasps, he could swear he felt her heartbeat on his dick as she lay suspended on the brink of orgasm, now and then giving into it, then coming down a bit, only to go up again when she chose. All during which he felt the end of his dick flicking back and forth against her cervix.

She could stay suspended like this for half an hour or more. It was difficult sometimes for him to hold his ejaculation, the pulsing of her inner muscles felt so good massaging his dick, the cervix relentlessly flicking his sensitive penis head, but being so tired tonight, he did not feel himself approaching the danger zone. Not that it was always "danger" -- "Rod, you can go again!" Tami often said after he came, milking his softening dick with the supple internal muscles of her pussy, or her mouth, until he had another erection. Tonight, though, he felt like after one load he would be soon fast asleep.

His mind wandered to his work difficulties as he looked up at her surfing along the edge from crest to crest. He liked working with building materials but as a newly minted engineer he was learning that dealing with people was just as important...

She knew his mind was elsewhere. She gave a little glance down and said, "it's -- uhh -- going to be all right -- lover -- ohhh... Fill me up, Baby."

She shifted her feet and pivoted on his dick so that she was facing away from him. He moved up and started on her doggy style. He could penetrate very deeply in this position, and had to be careful not to go sideways and poke an ovary, something which he'd heard was as painful as getting a poke in the balls. Now he began to get a rhythm and emit the low groans that always turned her on. With a short, sharp breath, she launched into what she often saved as her last orgasm, the longest and most powerful one. "Ohh! Ohh! Ohh!" He counted six spasms and then he let himself go, filling her up with his semen that seemed like the last of his energy and power draining from him, leaving him spent.

They lay there, waiting for sleep. As always she lay on top of the covers while he went underneath. For a long time now, being under a blanket had been too suffocating for her.

But he was actually too tired to get to sleep. Wordlessly they both got up, he getting into his pajamas again, and padded to the kitchen for some decaf tea.

As she often did, she sat cross-legged on top of the kitchen table. She had become quite the table sitter over the past couple of years. He sipped, and played idly with the pubic hair in front of him. Finally she spoke.

"You're worried about work, aren't you? What's going on, Baby?" She stroked his smooth shaved scalp.

He looked up and put it the best way he could manage. "My boss is hard to get along with. Very, well, bossy."

"Why is he like that?"

"Well Babe, he's what you might call an 'alpha male'. Head of the herd."

"Alpha male?"

"Right."

She sipped. "Or as we women call it, an insecure jerk."

Rod laughed and kept laughing. He had never heard that female viewpoint and it was refreshing and liberating. "Yes. That's exactly what he must be."

"Rough to deal with that kind of person, I bet."

Rod recognized this as a counseling move Tami probably picked up from Marisol, who had been with the campus crisis intervention service. Still, it was effective in getting him to open up. "Yes. Sometimes I think he already knows he will answer 'no' before I even talk to him."

"Is he like this with everyone?"

"In a way. But with me, the impression I get is, he thinks I'm unqualified."

"How can that be? You have a degree and one year of Corps of Engineers service."

Rod exhaled. "He thinks I got the job just because I'm African-American. I just know it."

"Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Did you get the job because you're black?"

One could never lie to Tami. Rod searched his mind.

"Yes, I think I did," he said finally. "They have an affirmative action obligation, and the other guys who applied, I saw them during the interviews, they seemed older and more experienced. And white. And they hire me, a black kid almost right out of school."

Tami scratched a nipple and stirred her tea.

"So what do I do now?" Rod said, looking up at her. Then he looked a little lower and couldn't help himself. He stetched up and kissed one sun-darkened nipple and then the other.

She cleared her throat and said, "What you do is be the best damn engineer that insecure alpha jerk ever had."

Rod nodded to himself. "Yes."

"It's a gift that history has given you. Think of your ancestors. 'I am the dream of the slave'..."

Rod smiled to this reference to the famous Maya Angelou poem. "Indeed."

Continuing the quotation, Tami said, "'I rise; I rise!'"

The smile on him was now ear-to-ear and he was almost in tears. "I rise!"

They looked at each other and sipped one last sip. A moment passed.

"Speaking of which," she said, lying back and wrapping her nimble feet behind his ears, "can you take me up again Baby?"

"Of course, Babe," he said, putting his tea down and gently moving in with his tongue...

Part 8

Up on the fourth, top floor of Thayer Hall, in the office of Department of Fashion Technology Chair Albert Girardo, that person sat with Professor Shel Wanamaker as they absently gazed out the big bay window that overlooked the bright snow-covered campus. 

Then Girardo, an old guy in a turtleneck sweater, black pants and moccasins, looked down again to leaf through the portfolio, as if he were looking at photos of persons with two heads. "There's only one word for these: weird."

"Also inventive, ingenious, possibly groundbreaking if you ask me," Wanamaker said. "Come on, admit it. If you didn't know it was Tami Smithers --"

"I just can't get my mind past it. Clothes designed by someone who can never wear any. There's no denying there's some kind of genius here, but it's a genius from another dimension. How long has she been 'au natural'?"

"Three and a half years. Not one stitch, not so much as a pair of flip-flops on her feet either."

"Is this a pant or a very long boot?" Girardo said, turning the portfolio sideways and then upside down. "I hate to say it, but she's probably forgotten what clothes feel like. Maybe she doesn't really know what she's doing any more."

A moment went by. "We've got to send SOMEONE to the International. We haven't sent anyone in five years."

"That's because we haven't had anyone good enough in five years," Girardo countered. "And even that last time, it was a close call."

"You know the problem as well as I do. If we keep on not sending anyone, they'll drop us from their panel."

"Where is it this year?"

"Montreal."

"Oh Christ! I forgot. Right in our goddamn back yard."

"So this is something we might have to do."

"She's not a major," Girardo said lamely.

"And... We've sent submissions from students minoring in fashion before."

Girardo put the portfolio down. "What if she makes the cut? We can't send a goddamn naked girl to a goddamn fashion award show. And what if she wins!! What if she wins!! The most prestigious fashion industry fellowship in North America, and it goes to a naked woman! They'll get publicity like never before, but not the kind they want -- a naked woman who will be bopping around the campus of --"

"They would never give the fellowship to a naked woman."

"Then aren't we setting her up to fail? And besides, there's no way she's going to win. Even if she was clothed. They'll give it to one of those inbred French kids like they always do. The odds are a thousand to one."

"We could make that clear to her when we tell her. She could handle that. Fashion isn't the center of her life. Her being a minor is actually an advantage as to that." Wanamaker continued, "Time is short. You know how I feel. We should tell her we want to submit her as our candidate. The deadline is in three weeks, and we have to give her a chance to put together her submission portfolio before that. She won't win, but at least we'll stay on their panel."

"Here she comes," Girardo said, looking out the bay window.

"Where? Oh." On the main concourse, in the middle of dozens of students going here and there for the next class, the naked girl, easy to pick out of course, was happily chatting on her cell phone, bookbag flung over one shoulder, hanging down to where it bounced against her bare buns as she walked with the swiftness of someone who was used to a tight schedule.

"Seems like she's in a good mood," Girardo said.

"She usually is. Everyone loves her too. And she's got a statue named after her."

"What?"

"Ever see that girl sticking her arms out like she's about to fly? Near the Union?"

"I hardly ever go there."

"It's called 'Tami Takes Flight'. Latimer did it."

"When was that?"

"The year you were on sabbatical."

"Oh... Well that's certainly interesting, though not relevant... Look at her," Girardo said as Tami broke into a little skip, going off the path to take a short cut toward them, kicking up snow with her toes. "She's traipsing through that snow like it's summer and it's sand on a beach."

"A nude beach, it would have to be."

"Right. My point is, how is a person like that supposed to know what anyone wants as far as clothes go? The International is not a bunch of dilettantes who design monstrosities for the Oscars red carpet. They affect real mass-production decisions, like what the chain stores will carry. The first thing a person wants clothes for is warmth. And there she is," he said, motioning toward the approaching Tami, "skipping barefoot and naked through the snow... What's her needs status? They take that into account these days, or least they're supposed to."

"She's married, to a recent engineering graduate, who's working for base pay on his first real job. She's from Providence -- that's another thing in her favor. Her family is working class, she has a younger brother in Iraq, no other source of income aside from her father's Navy pension and his hardware store, which according to our search is not doing too well."

"Think she knows that?"

"Probably not. I hear the father is proud of her but is a real stubborn, Irish beer drinking kind of guy."

"Not your typical designer background."

"I'll say. She also had a couple of close friends who died in 9/11."

"What, that plaque in the admin building? What's their names again --?"

"Mandy Rabinowitz and Jeffrey Dillon."

"Oh right. The kid who had the show on the 68th floor. Man. What a horrible loss."

They both sat in silence. Before they were ready for it, they heard the door to the stairwell close shut and the approaching slap of bare feet.

Though their door was open, they saw a bare arm reach around and knock. "Come on in, Tami," Wanamaker said.

She moved into the doorway slowly and politely. "Hi Professor, hi Mr. Girardo," she said with a little nod. "How did you know it was me?"

Wanamaker said with a smile, "We heard the stairwell door close. Everyone else takes the elevator... I told Mr. Girardo about your presentation on bra measurement. It was excellent as always."

A blushing "Thanks."

Putting on sociability, Girardo looked up and said, "That's a wonderful new hair color you've selected, Ms. Smithers."

To his surprise Tami looked down at her crotch and opened her legs slightly. "Thanks. It's called 'plum'."

Girardo gave a quick and pointed look to his colleague.

Sitting right next to where Tami was standing, Wanamaker tried very hard not to notice the dark red curls right near his face. Or the interesting fact that her pubic lips, jutting out slightly, were the same color as the surrounding curls. He cleared his throat, looked up at her face, and said, "We've been enjoying your... portfolio."

"Oh that," Tami said. Then perhaps thinking she shouldn't have been so dismissive, she said, "I hope it's O.K."

"It's more than O.K, Tami, it's very... inventive," Girardo said, paging through the computer graphics and freehand drawings, accompanied by more explanatory text than usual and, very unusual indeed, mathematical equations of some sort.

"Thanks."

"This uh, tank top or whatever it is," Girardo said, resisting the urge to turn the damn album upside down, "design 17A. How did you get the neckline so high with so little material?"

"Well it's in the equations there," Tami said. She dropped her backpack and turned toward it, apparently not aware that her butt was sticking in their direction. She fished a kind of ruler out. "Let me show you."

Girardo had some kind of vague memory from his 1950's high school days of this sticklike thing Tami now waved in front of him. "The neckline is a catenary, which you get by calculating the hyperbolic sine -- "

"The hyperbolic -- what? What is this thing?"

"It's a slide rule. I got it off the internet. These are really great, in fact they're beautiful. This one's a Hemmi. You see the SH scale here, you read it along with the C scale for radians -- "

As Tami went on and on in what seemed to Girardo like a foreign language, his mouth slowly opened in utter incomprehension. Halfway through he realized Tami's left breast was almost slapping him on the side of the face as she leaned alongside him so they could both see these sticks she was sliding back and forth. Wanamaker looked on in amusement.

When she was done, Girardo said, "I'm afraid it's been a while since --" Actually, he had never, ever been able to --

Tami stood up and started over. "The slide rule is based on logarithms rather than linear relations." Her fingers danced along the scales as she explained. "See how the distance from 1 to 2 is the same as from 2 to 4? It's because that distance is a factor of 2. From 4 to 8 is also the same. Now let me set it to show 6 divided by 3 is 2. See? Without moving the scales you see at the same time that 12 divided by 3 is 4, 38.4 divided by 3 is, 12.8, and so on. The whole operation of division unfolds before you in one panoramic sweep!"

Tami was trying to light a bulb over Girardo's head with this picturesque phrase but there wasn't even a bulb there to turn on. "Oh," he said weakly.

By way of nudging Girardo in the right direction, Wanamaker said, "Tami, I wonder if you have any ambitions for your designing talent."

Tami thought for a second, then said, "I've designed dresses and clothes for my friends. It seems whenever there's a wedding or a formal dance I get called. It's just my minor, though. My major is math, and my project is math with biochemistry. My friend Gretchen and I are working on a biodegradable, toxin-proof fabric that holds heat in the cold and breathes in the heat."

"That would be quite an accomplishment."

"I heard about that project from Professor Ling," Wanamaker said. "That's Gretchen Spaulding, right?"

"Yes, Gretchen and me. What we want is to develop something that can be used by our troops in Iraq. My brother tells me it gets both very hot and very cold there, at least where he is. Gretchen's fiance is there too."

"I hear they need equipment there," Wanamaker said. Then, perhaps tactlessly, "I hope they're safe."

"Joe is in a part of the country where not much happens, and Roger, that's Gretchen's fiance, he's training helicopter pilots."

"I see," Girardo said. "Well, good for you. And good for Gretchen too."

"Thanks."

There was an uneasy silence, at least uneasy for the two professors.

"Well, Ms. Smithers," Girardo said, "we just wanted to say that we're very impressed with your work, not only on your biochem project, but also in our classes. I hope you stay interested in this field of endeavor. See you around."

"Thanks again." She picked up her backpack and started to leave. From out in the hall she said, "What happened to that cartoon thing?"

"The what?"

"You know, that old magazine thing?"

She was referring to an old National Lampoon item entitled, "What high fashion would look like if designers were heterosexual." It had a picture of a so-called designer in a sweatshirt and jeans, pointing to his new "design", an invisible dress on a naked woman. "And if she gets cold, she can always wear a car," he was saying. Girardo, who was gay, had put the item up some years ago as a joke on himself. But he took it down recently out of sensitivity to Tami's plight.

"Um, it was time to change the board a bit," Girardo said.

"Oh. Too bad, it was pretty funny. Well, bye."

They heard the bare footsteps receding and then the stairwell door close. Soft descending footfalls faded into silence.

Wanamaker said, "I knew you'd chicken out. You won't get many more chances."

Girardo sighed and said, "Shel, you know I'm always swayed by you. I have to admit, strange as it is, this girl's work is exceptional. She probably really does deserve to be our candidate. But a naked fashion designer... This is the weirdest situation I've ever been in."

"I think you're being hyperbolic."

"Oh shut up."

Tami Beethoven by Donny Laja

Part 9

The second, mezzanine level of the college library was quiet on this dark afternoon. The sound of the heavy rain outside was all that could be heard, a rain that was quickly turning the snow into slush. A slush that this time, according to the forecast, would not freeze overnight. It was taking a while, but the deep freeze this north country was famous for had broken and it was warming up, if ever so slowly.

Tami Smithers was parked at her usual table in her usual position. One leg curled up, the other heel up on the table, her foot facing in, markers of various colors slotted between her toes. With her left hand she was grading papers from the remedial math class she tutored, selecting the appropriate marker according to her own system. Red = incorrect, Black = correct but incomplete work, Blue = correct, Green = helpful comments.

Next to these papers were a couple of textbooks. Her backpack was on the chair next to her. She worked quietly in the quiet library.

Another creature lurked nearby.

At first it was just a shadow in the stacks behind her. Watching, waiting...

It was Rosaria, tall and athletic with cropped hair, travel pouch around her waist. In wool jacket, leotard top, tights and long wool socks over her duck boots, looking like the Latina lesbian she was. She silently circled in front of the table and, when Tami looked up, she leaned across the table and kissed the big toe.