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Tiffany

By: lovescoldbeer



On a warm summer day out by the pool was a very sexy, and sensual young girl laying out in the summer heat. Her body was firm, and her skin glowed with the color of her bikini. Her tits were firm and her ass was tight as she walked across the platform. You could catch the glisten of sweat running down her inner thighs as she laid out with her legs slightly apart. Providing a sexy view of her crotch. I didn't swim much for fear of my hard-on showing through my swim trunks. I think part of the excitement was generated by her youthful spirit and looks. She was 5'8" with Brown hair that flowed down her back. Her breasts had to have been at least a Full C size. I loved the way her tits parted from the confines of her bikini top. 

My bulge would get bigger. My cock ached from the pulsating feeling I started to have. To tease her I would jump into the pool and stroke my cock and then get out of the pool with a hard on hoping that would get her attention. I once thought that I caught a slight smile from her but I could not be sure. I laid down on my towel. I am 6'1" with short dark hair and blue/green eyes. My cock is about 7 inches when fully erect. I had a definite pole in my tent. About 15 minutes later Tiffany began to leave. She stood up and put on her T-shirt. It was a half tee, which showed off her slim waistline. She then stepped into her jeans shorts and without bending her knees she reached down to pull her shorts up. She bent over in front of me, and I nearly lost my sense of well being. She picked up her bag and headed to the women’s shower room. Knowing that evening was upon I headed out the door myself a couple minutes after she left.

To my surprise, she was just exiting the ladies room right before me. She had changed into a outfit that was probably sexier than her bikini. She had dawned a white buttoned up the front shirt from which the material hung off her tits, and a very short green satin mini-skirt. She wore heals that made her ass stand out from under her skirt.

She winked at me as she passed by me. "What was this," I thought to myself. Do I detect an interest on her behalf? She had the deepest eyes. I couldn't tell if those were "Fuck me eyes, or fuck you eyes," that she glared at me. As she walked away from me she motioned for me to follow her. I quickly sprang into action. She walked me over to the house across the way. She said, Hi...My name is Tiffany! Come on in. I saw you watching me. Did you like what you saw?" I responded yes. She asked me if I wanted to see more. When she talked her full red lips re-woke my cock to a polite salute. Come on in. My parents are away.

Now, I am 22 and I usually don't have a problem with parents, but this was a different matter. She showed me to her room and asked me to sit down on the bed. She said with a smile, "I saw you looking at me and I appreciate you getting out of the water before me." I was still wearing my suit, which had dried by then with one exception. I had on a T-shirt too. She bent over in front of me like she did when she pulled up her shorts at the pool. My eyes widened when I noticed that she was wearing a pair of red satin thong panties under her satin green skirt. WOW! She stood up and asked me "Do you like my body?" I nodded a yes. I think. 

She gently started to unsnap her buttons from her white blouse. Her nipples began to pierce through her shirt. She knew she was being a naughty girl. To my surprise she was wearing a white lacey bra and her nipples were hard as nails. I reached over to run my hands up her thighs. They were soft to the touch. She shivered at my slightest touches. I slide my hand up her satin skirt and felt her wet mound through her panties. She was already very moist. Almost oozing from her pussy. I reached up with both hands and curled my fingers around her panty strings. I gently slide them down from her ass. As they pulled off of her the crotch of her panties snapped from their moist inner chambers. I could smell her inner juices flowing from her. "You are a Bad Boy," she said. I just smiled and returned the compliment with a grin.

My next instinct was to turn her around and push up her skirt up off her ass. Exposing her mound from behind. I began to lick her ass and slide my fingers to her well-shaved pussy lips. Her pubic hair was soft and a light brown color. She dropped her blouse to the floor and I reached up to unlatch her bra. I also unzipped her skirt as it fell to the floor. She stood there before me with her pussy bare. She held her bra on as the straps feel off her shoulders. 

She lowered her hands so her bra could fall from her breasts. My cock could not be restrained any longer. I stood up off the bed and she pulled down my swim trucks as I pulled off my shirt. I was naked and my cock stood there waiting to be invited in. She smiled and then began to lick down my chest. Slicing with her tongue down my body. She put her hands under my balls and put her full red lips over my shaft. She pulled off and licked the full length of the back of my ripe cock. She swallowed it again and this time she had her ruby red lips completely wrapped around my shaft. Ahhhh. She felt so good. She sucked until I was about to cum. She stopped and said, "not just yet." I knew right then, and there she was not new to this experience.

She laid down on her bed and began fingering her pussy. Slowing stroking her finger through her slit. Taking a little extra time at the top. Exposing her clit at times. The moisture pounded out from her juiced lips. I kneeled down in front of her and pushed her long legs apart. I lapped my tongue across her inner thigh as I headed to her creamy pussy. She let out a soft moan as I stroked her pussy with my tongue. The smell was inviting and I continued to eat her out as she flowed onto my tongue. She let out a soft moan. Her body began to quiver. My cock had to feel her from the inside. I pulled my cock into my hand and positioned it to her pussy lips. I slowly slid myself into her tight pussy. 

She let out a louder moan. I started to pump my cock into her slowly but began to fasten the pace. Her moans grew louder and her gasps for air became shorter. Her tits as firm as they were could not hold back as they bounced from my thrusts deep inside of her. My cock swelled to new extents, and she began to shift uncontrollably. Her moans grew loud that I knew she was about to cum hard. 

She said, "Fuck me harder so I can cum!" I began to fuck her as hard as I could, and sure enough her pussy began to pulsate around my cock. I began to feel a rush in my cock that I wanted to explode. I pulled out and shot my sweet hot juices onto her stomach and into her pussy. She began to massage my hot cum onto her tummy. Taking a taste of it into her ruby red lips. "Mmmmmm," you moaned as she sampled my hot cum. She reached for another sample. This time with her three fingers. She licked her fingers clean as my cum moistened her lips. The sun glistened in through the window making her lips shine with my cum. I laid down, spent, next to her. She whispered in a broken voice that we will have to do it again sometime. All I could manager was a sincere smile. :)

Tiffany



I know you all enjoyed my story about how I showed my nephew Chris how to fuck both guys and girls. So let me tell you how I came to add his sister Tiffany to my stable of sex partners.

Unlike Chris, Tiffany became sexually active at a very young age. She'd had an abortion at 15 (I know because I paid for it) and had taken a twenty-three year-old man to her senior prom. One look at her and any man with a pulse would push his grandmother over a cliff for a chance to get into her pants.

Her trouble started with an early puberty. At twelve, she wore a 34C bra and now, at 18, she sports 36DD tits with a beautiful ass and tiny waistline to match. She learned early the power she has over guys and isn't afraid nor disinclined to use it.

I was never as close to her as to her brother, but we enjoy each other's company. She had just graduated from high school and wanted to stay with me while attending junior college. Though she had had a troubled time in her teens, she was putting things together and trying to improve her life. I would do anything to help her.

She moved in at the end of August, just after I had fixed up a spare room in my house for her. We spent a day moving her stuff from my sister's house to mine and, after getting everything in I started to make dinner, just a salad and a couple of chicken breasts. After clearing the dishes we changed for a swim, I in a new pair of Speedos and her into a blue one-piece that seemed about two sizes too small from the way it gripped her curves.

We cooled off and then took to the chaise lounges on the deck. She rubbed suntan oil on me, and then lay on her back as I reciprocated. Gently I rubbed the oil over the exposed sections of her back and legs, kneading the flesh like fine bread dough. Her firm young body felt so good!

"That feels so good, Uncle Joe."

"Glad you like it. Do you know what a beautiful young woman you are?"

"Yes." She giggled. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, sweetie."

"Is it true you are fucking my brother and his girlfriend?"

Somehow, this took me by surprise. I looked into her eyes, which reflected her devilish grin.

"Well, Tiff, I am. Does that bother you?"

"No. What bothers me is why you've never tried to fuck me." With that racy comment she turned over and placed her hand on my crotch. "Chris says you've got a huge cock. Can I see it?"

Never one to disappoint a lady, I lifted my hips off the lounge and pulled down my Speedos, exposing my hardening penis and thick bush of pubic hair. Her eyes glued to it immediately.

"He wasn't lying." She took my cock in her hand and gently stroked it, making it grow to its full length. After getting me fully hard, she took me in her mouth and, with practiced expertise, proceeded to blow me. The suction was like a Hoover, and the stroking was as good as any man can do to himself. I started to picture all the boys she had practiced her technique on.

"You like this, Uncle Joe? Do you like getting sucked off by your naughty niece Tiffany?"

"Yes! Suck that cock, girl! Make me fill your mouth with my sperm."

"Sounds yummy!" With that she got back to work and, within two minutes, I was spurting my semen into her waiting mouth. She didn't miss a drop.

I lay back, exhausted, as my niece treated me to an erotic strip show. She pulled the straps of her suit down and lowered it, just enough to catch sight of the tops of her breasts. Slowly she lowered it a little more, and I could see the big pink nipples I had always imagined. She swayed back and forth, making her tits bounce. Then she took the rest of it off. Her pussy was covered in blonde curls, her thighs and stomach white and perfect.

"Come to Uncle Joe." I commanded. She sat next to me, her boobs pressed against me chest. I put my hand behind her head and guided it to mine. Our first kiss was strong and passionate, punctuated by the slight trace of my sperm left in her mouth. As we continued to kiss I brought my fingers to her pussy and rubbed her clit and lips. She squirmed a bit as I made contact, and her tongue darted into my mouth as I humped her with my hand.

I lifted her up a bit so that I could suck on those beautiful titties. I took one to my mouth and sucked it hard, bringing more little moans from Tiffany. "Yes! Make me come, Uncle Joe. Bring me over!"

With that I felt my fingers get very wet as her orgasm triggered a flood of cunt oil. She thrust herself down on me and rubbed her clit into the heel of my hand as she climaxed.

I lit a couple of cigarettes and handed her one. He smoked in each other's arms, enjoying the afterglow of our orgasms. When we were done, I got up and put her on her back. I spread her legs and lowered my mouth to her pussy, returning the oral favor. Her thighs pushed in on my head as I went to work, with two fingers in her pussy and my tongue on her clit. Once I got her nice and worked up, I rose and guided my hard, thick cock into her hole.

I showed no mercy and I plowed her hard and fast. She moved her legs up onto my shoulders and I took her ass into my hands, allowing me to go very deep into her tiny teenaged pussy. I hit bottom and could feel her cervix gripping the head of my nine-incher on every down stroke. Her hands clawed my back as I fucked her, my balls slapping her ass.

I felt the sperm boiling within me, so I slowed down and withdrew. I got on the lounge and she straddled me, guiding my pole back to where it belonged. Like a practiced equestrienne she rode me. The sight of my boner plunging into her sent me to the edge. My hands went back and forth between her ass and those swaying tits.

"Fuck me, Uncle Joe. Shove that fat cock into me! Drown me in your cum!"

I obliged, thrusting up as she rode me. But there was at least one more thing I wanted to try before I let loose with another load of sperm. I gently pushed her off of me and walked around behind her. Being the experienced slut that she was, she leaned over and propped herself up with her hands on the lounge. My cock, already drenched with her juices, slipped right back in as I took my niece doggie-style.

I loved the way her tits, now in the full power of gravity, hung down and bounced with each thrust. I reached around and took one in each hand as I fucked her, rolling them in my grip. I slowed down a bit, trying to prolong this, our first fuck.

"Uncle Joe, I'm on the pill, so don't worry about coming inside me. I want all that sperm swimming up me. Come for me!"

With that I grunted and shot a huge load of my sticky, white semen into her. I thought the head of my cock was going to fall off it felt so good. After I was finished, we both collapsed forward and lay motionless, recovering from our sexual bout.

Tiffany kissed me and thanked me for the great fuck. I suggested we move inside and wash off. In the shower we soaped each other's and played a bit, but that was the extent of it. After we were dried off we went to my bedroom and lay down.

Slowly and sensuously e just ran our hands over each other, our eyes locked. I loved this girl so much and knew she loved me, but our emotions went to a new level that day. We couldn't get enough of each other's bodies as we lay there.

"So Tiff, now that we've fucked I want to ask you some things."

"Sure."

"How long have you been fucking?"

"My first time was when I was thirteen. It was with the older brother of my best friend."

"Wow. How was it?"

"Not very good. But it got better!"

"I guess so. Who got you pregnant?"

She looked down, a little embarrassed. "Promise not to tell anyone?"

"Sure. It'll be our secret."

"Dad's brother, Uncle Jeff."

"That son-of-a-bitch!"

"Yeah. He got me drunk and screwed me in my parents' bed. I think he wanted to knock me up. You know how much he hates my father and mother."

"Yeah, pretty sad. You don't know how much it turns me on to be here with you."

She grabbed my cock, squeezing it hard. "I bet I do!"

I smiled, and guided her onto her back. I wanted one more fuck before dinner.

This time, I took it slow, easing my cock into and out of her very slowly. Again, as if by instinct, her legs went to my shoulders. I reached between us and rubbed her clit in rhythm with my thrusts. After my fingers were wet enough, I slowly inserted them in her ass as I fucked her.

"Ohhh!" she cried as I penetrated her back passage. "I love it when guy's play with my ass!"

"Me too," I said.

"Do you like guys or girls better, Uncle Joe?"

"Both. I just like to get it on, doesn't matter if it's a cock or a pussy I play with."

"Ummm. That feels so good! I would love to watch you fuck another guy sometime."

"I think we can arrange that. Do you ever have sex with other girls?"

"I have, but not very often."

I lowered her legs and went for her breasts. I squeezed them as I fucked, then pushed them together and licked her nipples. I built up speed, ready to flood her pussy for the second time that day.

"I'm gonna come, Tiff!"

"Oh yeah, Uncle Joe. Come inside me! Give me your sperm!"

Not as intense as the first time, but my orgasm felt great as I shot into her young pussy. Being a gentleman, I quickly withdrew and went down on her, eating my sperm out of her cunt and bringing her over again. She thrust her hips into my face as I lapped at her womanhood, clearly feeling as good as I did.

Again in each other's arms, we fell asleep, dreaming the dreams of the sexually satisfied. 



Tiffany



I had worked for Mr. Maxwell since leaving school, and though it mightn’t suit everyone, I’d enjoyed the last twenty years. I like living where I was born, and small-town Scotland still places commerce a rung above the more recently-invented professions. I was already as good as manager of Mr. Maxwell’s shop, with a smooth path to succeeding him on his retirement, and in most ways life was good. I fished and shot, sailed, studied local history and took pictures, but never joined the clubs. I composed the local newspaper crossword, too, although very few people knew that. I had nothing to go away on holiday for, and I had never known serious illness. What sort of shop? A jeweller’s, and that’s part of the story.

I wasn’t quite a virgin. There had been a couple of farm-girls I’d known from school – after we’d left, of course - with the ruddy-faced simplicity a man tires of, then a couple of ‘serious’ girlfriends, till I realised it was lifestyle and status they were serious about. One was religious, while the other threw out hints of delights to come, and used the word ‘reliable’ a lot. Was there ever such a depressing word as that? Well, I am the reliable type, or could be, but I decided they weren’t the type I wanted to be reliable for. Their relatives gossiped and Mr. Maxwell fretted, so as I’m obsessive about privacy, I decided I’d be like the fox who never touches the chickens close to home. They both have haggard-looking husbands by now, but I doubt if they’re haggard from the right thing, and it has become all too plain how artfully-maintained had been the girls’ grip upon good looks. They went for what they wanted, I suppose, and once it was security, but now it was food. I’ve come to understand how many a human female emulates the common cucumber, by being delicious in the virginal state, but bitter once pollinated. 

Then there were the prostitutes, around the Anderston bus station in Glasgow. But that was a glimpse into a bleak, unwashed world of social misfits and falseness, which couldn’t have held my interest long, even if my first sight of needle tracks hadn’t killed it on the spot. I can understand the compulsive philanderer, but there’s no more challenge in prostitution than in fishing for trained professional fish. I’d have been perfectly glad to exercise moderation in the matter of philandering, but by the age of 37 the problem was getting to exercise anything at all. The odd thing was, I thought I’d ended up detesting those girls until I knew I’d never use them again, but after that my heart went out to them, for their awful predicament. 

Not long ago, considering, I answered an ad in a photographic magazine:

LOCAL CONTACTS! Penfriends, models, romance, fun relationships in all areas. Hundreds of photographs. Send for approval copy of your local edition now.

I don’t know what I expected, exactly, but nothing like what I got. There were hundreds of photographs, all right, although small and badly printed, and mostly fit for ‘Amateur Gynaecologist’, if such a thing exists. I’ve never even been a top-shelf magazine person, much, and some of their pictures would be beautiful if they were anywhere else. 

What got to me, though, was the variety of the ads. A small minority, with ordinary snapshots, were from British and foreign teenagers seeking penpals, and others from ordinary women, obviously seeking Mr. Right. ‘Badly hurt in the past’ is another phrase I find ominous, and if they’d ever seen the magazine, they had chosen an unlikely way of doing better. I didn’t think it was right to let them in for the replies they must have been getting. Not surprisingly a lot were males, some with a strip of white tape blotting out strategic areas. Why some and not others? You could judge by the angle.

That left a lot that intrigued me. Attractive bored housewives, desperate for uncomplicated sex? Ah well, one hears of such things… But their numbers seemed improbable, especially when I had always assumed that like Rolls-Royce, they Do Not Advertise. What could they be? Masquerading homosexuals? People driven by some morbid compulsion? Burglars doing research? HIV victims who believe a trouble shared is a trouble halved? Anything seemed possible, and not much of it good. Then there were the couples, more than half of them looking for other couples, a lot for bisexual females, and a sprinkling for single men. They didn’t, I noticed, claim the bored housewives’ preponderance of DD cup bra sizes. I had always thought that to be a rarity, and I still think it.

It was cheap enough to try on an off-chance, so I paid for a six-month subscription, and the forwarding fee for letters to a wide selection of advertisers. Jewellers are cautious, so I used postal orders and my first Christian name, which I hadn’t used locally since deciding I preferred James to Matthew J.

To most I got no reply, unless you count a rash of junk mail for pornographic videos and sexual aids. What I found annoying, after paying £2 a time for forwarding, were the photocopied ‘personal’ letters from females, offering a set of photographs to advance our relationship, if I would just send £10 cash for help with printing and postage. Just one was handwritten and seemed perfect, until she started explaining how irrelevant it was that she’d been born a boy. The person who agreed might find her beyond price, I thought, but it was relevant to me.

Only from the couples I nearly always got polite apologies, saying they’d heard from more single men than they could ever meet. Looking at the magazine again, I had a better eye for deviousness, but I thought I saw an air of normality and decency about the couples, which most of the others didn’t have. 

The biggest shock came from an ad I never answered at all. Not many people would have recognised the procurator-fiscal and his wife, Scotland’s equivalent of a district attorney, who lived just fifteen miles away. I had known Gwendolyn at primary school, before I was frightened off by the beginnings of her legendary bosom. Phillip was a much older boy, of the sort who would have appealed to her family, around the time they put her into quarantine from those with nothing but mongrel vigour to offer. They were well-known for ‘county’ parties which I never attended, and others, thought to be professional reunions, which only strangers ever did. If they had not disguised their identities under Pip and Gwennie, their childhood nicknames, as well as the domino masks, I would never have recognised them.

This I wanted. I became absorbed by thoughts of once-unattainable portions of Gwendolyn, and I envisaged Phillip, who had worn less well than I had, becoming aware of certain comparisons. But there they were, with an ad which stated ‘no single males’. Part of a couple was obviously the thing to be. That, however, brought me back to square one.

I badly needed a girl you don’t take home to mother. I don’t think I’m immoral, or even amoral in the all-round sort of way, but in that situation, I believe, a young man’s fancy turns to duplicity. It came to me in a flash one evening, with what kind of girl a man was justified in being a predator. One who was an active predator herself, of course. The ideas flooded in on me, but it was typical, I suppose, that I started out in the area I knew best.

I had to travel up to Glasgow to make some purchases from Greenbergs the tool and fittings suppliers. After the firm’s goods, I bought two nine carat ring castings, one white and one yellow, and two synthetic cubic zirconias. The jewellery chainstores’ staff would need a thermal conductivity tester to tell those from exceptionally good 2½ carat diamonds, and while I can tell by the refraction, it would take good light. I paid for those personally, saying I had to copy an acquaintance’s ring for security purposes. They laughed at me for forgetting both the colour and my personal chequebook. But the idea was to pay cash. Nobody should ever check my bank statements over this plan, but if they did, they wouldn’t find any transaction with Greenbergs.

I made up those rings myself, and removed the castings manufacturer’s hallmark. I do a nice job, and you don’t often see claw-work that good on cubic zirconia. If you ever buy jewellery retail, you probably don’t want to know how little they cost. It’s funny that I never thought of using them the way randy jewellers traditionally do. We all have our standards, I suppose. As for what I planned, the prisons would be overflowing if that was a crime.

The next stop was Dumfries, and the loft where the local newspaper keep a century and a half of back issues. I’d consulted those before, and nobody knew I wasn’t looking for local history this time. I spent two evenings there, compiling a list of girls under twenty who had been convicted of minor offences in the last year. The age was not my preference, specially, but to increase the chances of their being single and childless. I excluded anything suggesting drugs, alcoholism, a man, motherhood or irrational aggression, and I checked the old school photographs for appearance. There wasn’t, unless I’d missed something, any prostitution in Dumfries. Back home again, I started searching the U.K.-Info Disk computer programme, which is a database of the complete U.K. electoral register. 

At last I had Tiffany Blair, Charlene Iredale and Melanie-Jayne McGrure, all convicted of petty theft, all with previous convictions and all on the phone. Tiffany, aged nineteen, seemed the best, for she lived alone, Charlene with two unrelated females, and Melanie-Jayne with a male and female McGrure, of whom the former was born in 1948. Tiffany, it was true, had struck a store detective while fourteen Wonderbras cascaded from her false pregnancy, but that hardly proved a violent disposition. The names grated a bit, since I can find no record of my family using anything but the four evangelists and a few Old Testament females. I hoped I wouldn’t end up with anybody named Melanie-Jayne.

I made the first call in Ayr, from a callbox outside the security camera zone. 

‘Hello. Is that Tiffany?’

‘Aye. Wha’s that?’ I almost panicked and hung up, but I knew all was lost if I let that show.

‘Oh, somebody you don’t know. But you’re the person I need for a job.’

‘What kind of job?’ She sounded suspicious but not afraid, which was about right.

‘The kind that makes a lot of money. But it’s safe – ’

‘No’ on the phone. I’ll meet you an’ talk, if you like. Baith alone, in the open.’

‘All right, how about the Whitesands in Dumfries?’ 

This was working out better than I thought.

Tiffany was taller than I had expected, at about 5’9”, and just a little short of frail in build, but the subtle swell of her turquoise tank-top suited my taste very well. Her hair, which was drawn together with a clasp, was a deep auburn, and she had a curiously long, slightly toothy face, which mightn’t sound pretty or delicate, but was both. They were exceptionally good teeth, and anthropologists would fight over that skull. Her skin wasn’t quite what it might be, but that would be diet. The skin-tight white satin knee-breeches, with a trace of what I later learned was called a pantie-line, suited her if they suited anybody. There might be a touch of vanity there, if she wore those to a meeting she should want to be inconspicuous, but I still thought she was better-looking than she knew. She moved well too, in long, swinging strides, which I’ve always liked. Little was said until we reached a quiet riverside walk, and sat a chaste distance apart on a bench.

‘So tell me what you’ve got in mind.’

‘Well, I’ve contacts in a jewellery business, up the Ayrshire coast. They know most of the local people with valuable jewellery. There’s a family we’ll call Hammond, whose jewellery they usually store in the safe. Most of the time Mrs. Hammond wears copies, very much like this.’

I handed her one of my zirconia rings. You learn a lot by seeing how a person reacts to jewellery, and Tiffany was exactly right – impressed, but not in a feeding frenzy. If she’d been a customer I’d have taken out my Moe gauge, and shown her how to estimate the carat size, which always impresses. But I didn’t want to shout ‘in the trade’ just yet. 

The story I told was a work of art. I needed a girl to help me get close to them, during one of the periods when they would have the real diamond. Tiffany was no fool, pointing out at once that age and accent made us an improbable couple. I passed her the contact magazine, and I watched a fascinating mixture of shock, calculation and humour crossing her face. But she turned a lot of pages. The down on the back of her neck was a gleaming halo in the sun, and her tank-top had been washed until the label faded. Thirty-four.

‘Oh, I get it,’ she said at last. ‘Swingers.’

‘You know about that?’

‘I’ve heard a bit.’

‘Well, I think they are. At least, some close friends of theirs are in there.’ 

Tiffany leant her chin on her clasped hands, stared across the river for quite a while, then looked at me.

‘Well, I bet we wouldnae be the oddest couple around, then. But see if you think I’m some sort o’ high-class prostitute? I told the girls in the nick, I did…’

It occurred to me that although her costume would have been unexceptional around that Glasgow bus-station, I had run into a distinction that mattered to her. 

‘We’d be partners. If it works, we make a lot of money nobody wants to give us, but if it doesn’t, we don’t. You’d Be on shares, not paid. I can’t see any prostitution there.’

‘Maybe not. Just what’ve we got to do?’

‘First we’ll need a photograph of us together, like these.’

‘One leg over here, an’ one leg over there? No way, it’s got to be a real elegant photo, like Page Three, or Greek statues. No’ like her in the bodice, even. The trick is to get it real tight around the ribs, then a wee bit looser higher up. Absolute ruin, if you want to make an impression, are squashed-flat - ’

‘Yes, yes, it’ll be a nice photo. That picture gets us into one or two small parties…’

‘Swinging parties? Well, nae false modesty, I can handle that, so I can. When I was younger, I did things that made me bloody relieved I was HIV negative, when I got tested in the nick. Girls are different since your young days, lots of ’em. Mind you, I got abused, see, incestuous, when I was thirteen, then later in the special school, an’ it’s mighty rare a girl turns oot normal after that. I did what’s the smart thing for a pilot after a plane crash, if I’d but known it - get back up there afore your nerve goes, and you’ll come right. So I come right, an’ I think I did bloody well to. That in the nick was only your situational homosexuality.’

‘Ah well… Putting up a good show there gets us introductions, and into the Hammonds’ big party. I don’t suppose I’ll be the only man with a partner he can’t trace later. Your name will make Mrs. Hammond think of jewellery… It’s the name of a famous jeweller’s, you see.’

‘What, Blair?’

‘No, Tiffany. She’ll undoubtedly remark on your ring –’

‘Eh? Have you gone bloody mental? She sees I’ve got a copy, then somebody sneaks intae their bedroom to make the substitution, an’ it sure as hell doesnae sound like that’ll be you - ’

‘Nobody sneaks anywhere. Mrs. Hammond will see your ring well into the evening, not at the beginning. She’ll be half-convinced, afterwards, that yours was white gold, and hers is yellow. If she asks to try it on, better and better, for it’ll go, but she’ll notice it’s tighter than her own. If she gets suspicious at the time, she’ll only make a quick trip for a look at her jewel-box, which lets you off the hook. But I hope she won’t. The idea is just to create doubt later.’

‘But if we dinnae get the ring…?’

‘We don’t have to.’

I handed her the yellow copy. Why should I feel ashamed because her understanding was so quick? Taking advantage of stupidity should be worse, if anything. Ashamed I was, though, just for a moment. She swallowed the big lie without having to be told it, but that seemed just the opposite of an excuse, when I imagined myself pleading it as such.

‘In the jeweller’s! You’ll switch the rings in the jeweller’s, an’ it’ll maybe be years till they find out.’

‘It’s a lot more than just one ring.’ 

‘They’ll never know if it was the jeweller, or at one of their parties ages before. Aye, and if it was there, they’ll no’ be sure whether it was a lass they or you cannae trace, wi’ a ring that might’ve been yellow or white, that they think was never alone in their bedroom.’

‘Even if they did trace you, you’d have your yellow ring, still.’ 

‘Aye, and if your man in the jewellers is smart, he’ll be the one discovers the switch, an’ he’ll say “It’s my fault, no’ warning you when I heard the stories folk tell…” That’s his polite way o’ saying “Report me, and you report the party.”’

‘Parties. And they’re people who can’t report that. They’ll also know that robbery under trust isn’t covered by their insurance, and quite possibly not by the jeweller’s, especially if they can’t prove where it happened. I dare say they’ll invent a different kind of robbery altogether, to claim for. Since they can’t do that without the jeweller suspecting, and he wants a chance of replacing it at insurance rates, they and he have equally good reasons to keep quiet.’

‘ Oh, you crafty bugger! I love a man that can make plans, like.’

I was glad of that. 

‘Mind you, if I’ve to do nothin’ illegal,’ she added, ‘you’ll maybe feel bad payin’ me my half.’

‘Not half,’ I said, trying to sound secretive. ‘Our man in the jeweller’s will cost money. You’ll get a third of what’s left after that. It could be nothing, if anything goes wrong. If he also gets to replace it, we’ll get a third of his profit, and split it the same way.’ 

My motives were only partly erotic, and not at all larcenous, although she would never believe me unless I bargained. I had decided I didn’t like the Hamilton-Hammond set, for you would be amazed how little protection the profession that had enriched them gives to shopkeepers. Even Tiffany, who was easily bright enough to be employable, had taken nothing but harm from the ease of sliding into crime. Well, she was the hawk I would fly at them. Not that I planned to hurt them, exactly. Let me mix metaphors a little. I once knew a naval reserve officer who had torpedoed H.M.S. Tiger. Oh, only on exercise, with a rating behind him to shout ‘whoosh’, but it was the principle of the thing. Well, they might never know they had been torpedoed amidships, a point on which I hadn’t yet made up my mind. But I would know.

‘A third, maybe of nothing. Done. Oh, and one ither thing. Are you and me an item, like?’

‘H’m, well… You’re very attractive, and it seems silly not to. I think we’d both have to do it with somebody, at the parties, but it wouldn’t necessarily have to be with each other. So if you feel we should keep this to a business relationship,’ (I offered up a sacrifice), ‘we could just pretend.’

‘Ha!’ exclaimed Tiffany, with a smile my respectable girlfriends could have killed for, if they’d known smiles mattered. I swear I saw her ears move. ‘You look like a spaniel that’s got your sausages unner the table, but kens you’ll hear him if he starts chewing. You’ve got a point though, I’d never work wi’ the young blokes I had it off wi’ before. Sometimes I’d swear they ejaculated brain-cells. Tell you what, we’ll compromise. Business relationship for now, but at the first party we’ll gie them a show that’ll make ’em crack their bridgework. You’ll no’ have a limp willie in public, will you?’

‘No… I don’t think so.’

‘I don’t either. Now, when do we do these photos?

‘Well, I’ll have to come back another day, with my camera… ’

‘Is an Instamatic any good? D’ye know, I felt bloody washed-up this time yesterday, but being on the hunt changes everything. Tell you another thing, Mr. Whatever-your-name-is. I like you.’




Tiffany



I wished she hadn’t said that. 

I phoned her a few days after I posted her set of prints, though I didn’t tell her just then that I’d used them to place an ad, and answer a few. They really were just as tasteful as she could have wished, taken by the soft, directional light at that window. It left most of that hideous little council flat out of the picture, too. I had a couple of prints in the phone-box, and I wondered if she guessed I was looking at her pink little nipples just grazing my chest, that curiously vertical scalplock of warm-coloured pubic hair, and her long, cool fingers, which encircled my swelling shaft. Actually it hadn’t swollen quite as quickly as I might have wished, but nothing to worry about. She had proven just as untouchable as she’d said, although I was afraid to do more than drop a hint or two. Patience is a virtue. 

She was clever enough to mind her words on the phone, and we talked vaguely for a while. She was better-spoken than before, I thought, her accent less strong. At last she said something that made my heart sink, and yet was a relief:

‘James, I’ve changed my mind.’

‘What? You mean it’s off? But…’

‘It’s on, an’ I’ll tell you what’s changed. You said you live alone, and the area code’s no secret. I like you a lot, and if we’re to be partners, you’ve got to trust me. You’ll tell me your full name and phone number, I’ll get on a bus and come to your place – your place, not a hotel – an’ you’ll give me a good night’s healthy exercise. Tonight. Are you in or out?’

The moment of truth. It would be a thin sort of blackmail at the worst, as there would be no crime. But reputation means a lot in the jewellery trade, and I could imagine the effect on Maxwells, if it got into the News of the World. I didn’t think she seemed the type - but then, did I seem the type for seduction by deception? I swore I would straighten all this out, if I could find a way to stay on speaking terms, even. But how could I do that?

‘Well, h’m, if you think – ’

‘Hey, I could’ve said worse,’ she said brightly, for all the world like a mischievous child. ‘I could’ve said shagging.’ 

I’ve never been convinced that the surest way a man can have his way with a woman is by making her laugh. The laughter part is something I never had much trouble with, but a lot of good it ever did me. It works the other way round, though.

‘Come and say it, then. I’m in. Have you got a pen?’

‘And a bus timetable.’ 

I’ve said we’re cautious in the trade, and although my flat is a comfortable one, above a building society, there is nothing in the street but a plain stainless steel door. I saw only her face on the security screen, and after I pressed the button for the inner door, I kept watching the foyer until I heard her knock. She swept in smartly, and it seemed natural to kiss her.

I was not ready for the change in her. The girl with the tank-top and satin was now smartly business-suited, and might have passed unnoticed an hour earlier, among the office girls going home from work. Her manner was more sedate, somehow, her speech more measured, and it came to me that she loved playing a role.

‘You’ve changed.’

‘Sort of. The suit cost a bit, but I’m working afternoons and Saturdays in a video shop now, and I never had anything real nice… really nice. I mean ladylike, see, ’cause I got plenty that goes for your hormones, as well you know. Besides, you don’t want us looking odd together, not here. Know why I wore that outfit the first time? You learn a lot about a man, when you see how he looks at your centre seam. Some girls tighten up that seam with a bit of elastic, or so I’ve heard.’

‘But I did look! I couldn’t help it.’

‘I should damned well hope not, but you nearly got a squint doing it tactful. Hey, have you got any food in the place? I’m starving. Only I don’t touch chips now. Got to make the best of myself.’

I’m a good cook, within a limited repertoire, and I had a bottle of Syrah which went well with the curry. It was a curiously normal evening, considering, but we ended up on the sofa together, most amazingly like anybody else. Tiffany’s kind of figure managed very well without a bra, and she actually seemed shy about the blouse buttons. Only when I brought my thigh up between her legs, her movements became rhythmic and her breath harder. I still wonder if I succumbed to telepathy in doing that, for I had chanced on something that would always serve her well. But I faltered when I saw an ugly bruise on her shoulder. 

‘Tiffany, what did that?’

‘You don’t know the way some people live, do you? I never said I was any angel. But don’t worry, it was nothing illegal, and nothing sexual. In fact, it was getting out of it. An ex-boyfriend from before the nick, but he won’t be back. Gave better than I got, didn’t I? God knows why everybody thinks girls are defenceless, when anybody with dangly bits has a worse liability. Achilles didn’t know when he was well off, in my opinion.’

‘A girl shouldn’t have to…’ I began, feeling oddly protective, for a man who might be doing worse.

‘I know, I know, but I’m mixing with a better sort of person now, aren’t I? Oh, just go on doing that! Now something’s starting to happen, but don’t worry, there’s going to be plenty more when it’s your turn. Oh yes, more like that! More! OH GOD!’

‘Should we use condoms?’ I asked in sudden panic. I had some, but they have expiry dates.

‘I’ve done nothing since I was tested,’ she said, still gasping for breath, ‘and I’m safe tonight.’

‘What about me, though?’

‘Didn’t you notice you were tested in Dumfries, sort of? Tested my way. We’ll use condoms with them, mind, but I’ll start on the pill for our business conferences.’

A jeweller is good with fastenings, and the rest of her clothes came away easily. Her wetness was perfect, and I slid between those neat little lips, which the scalplock did not quite reach. Then I came to a stop.

‘Oh bloody hell, I never expected trouble, after… Now please don’t push, ’cause I really will feel so much nicer if I’m not pushed at. Just rub gently up and down for a moment… Oh yes, there, but a little more up…’

It worked, and at the next pressure she took me in just as easily as any woman on earth. Something told me to keep my movements slow and long, but already Tiffany’s breath was shortening again.

I awoke to find her stark naked at the bedside, hair moist from the shower, with coffee and cereal. 

‘Wouldn’t you know it? The moment he opens his eyes, and he’s got ’em on my centre seam again. I can wear a low-cut bikini, ’case you’re wondering – by a whisker.’

‘Tiffany… Do you know how early it is?’

‘Got to get on the early bus, haven’t I? We don’t want half the town seeing me leave, and I don’t want to know where you go to work. I got the coffee-machine to work all right, but should there be milk on this muesli stuff?’

‘A lot of people think so. But last night… I mean, you must be used to younger men?”

‘Ooh, fishing!’

‘Well, I know I always take a long time to come, I don’t know why, and that can’t be altogether bad. But wouldn’t a younger man be more… vigorous?’

‘Eh? A human battering-ram’s a bloody show-off, an’ doesn’t do a girl a lot of good. An’ it’s real horrible being battering-rammed if you’re a bit slow being ready, like I am. But you… I tell you, I got so little sleep I’ll be scared of waking up in the Carlisle bus depot, and if I’d to ride a bicycle I’d probably die. ’Tisn’t just in the nick, you know, that girls talk about being happy-sore, but I never was till now. And would you believe I was terrified you’d mind me not having bigger boobs? Even if they aren’t ever liable to droop.’

‘That’s silly, They’re absolutely perfect.’

‘Okay, you convinced me. I feel like you unbuttoned me perfect, after I’d buttoned myself up a little girl that morning.’

‘And you just never stopped… coming. I didn’t know that was possible.’

‘Oh yes, eighth wonder of the bloody world I am, but it just leaves me all grumpy if the man isn’t up to it. My God, I’ve had men that think everybody in the world takes about thirty seconds, an’ it doesn’t help if getting inside me takes twenty-eight of ’em. But it served me right, ’cause I still let ’em after I knew that, just ’cause it’s what girls do. I swear if I wasn’t a trier, I could have given up on men by now. It came to me in the shower just now, we’re alike as two peas in one way, you and me, because we neither of us ever had anything but rotten sex before. A women can tell.’

‘And our plan isn’t rotten?’

‘Not if we’re in control. But look, Matthew James, these Hammonds... It’s mainly educated people have that sort of jewellery. They’re upper-class, like?’

‘Or think they are, which is even worse. He’s a high legal official.’

‘Bad as that, eh? Well you’re respectable yourself, an’ you’ve always been too nice to treat anyone as inferior. But I see the other side, and I tell you, you’re wrong to think they’d let you bring in some street girl. They wouldn’t sling us out – I bet you any money I’ll have the best thighs there - but they’d remember us forever, like people once thought murder victims had the murderer’s face engraved inside their eyeballs. I tell you, he could get a photofit done, while a dozen poor old ladies who’ve been burgled get a card with Victim Support’s number on it. Do you know why I wore that suit, and my going-to-hospital panties? To show you I’m ready to make a serious project of this. I’m going to start evening classes an’ read books, so I can talk better. And you’re going to teach me manners an’ that, ’cause yours are lovely.’

‘Well, that might do you some good when this is over. Not that there’s anything the matter – ’

‘You’re just saying that.’

‘Not at all. You know, I can’t help thinking that you’re turning out a lot more like the sort of girl who ought to be looking for a proper job. If you don’t commit any more crimes, your convictions will be spent when you’re in your mid-twenties, and you needn’t even tell an employer.’

She hesitated a while, just as she once had on that riverside bench, and I wondered what she wasn’t telling me. Even men don’t miss everything.

‘Tiffany, you don’t have another case coming up already?’

‘Just the opposite. I don’t have no - any convictions.’

‘None? But I read – ’

‘“ARE YOU TIFFANY MAIR, BORN ON THE 22nd FEBRUARY 1979?” they yelled in court, no clearer than a bloke selling papers. I know about that Tiffany, born in Dalbeattie and died of drugs in London just after I got out of the nick, I hear. Me, I’m a Blair, born on the 10th November 1978, and I’ll celebrate my birthday in 2078, you see if I don’t. I got a horrible fright when I heard the paper had got something right for once.’

‘And for all those months in prison – ’ 

‘I lived on my nerves, I’ll admit, but I was born a fighter, and how many people in the nick get to feel that every new day’s a victory? How many anywhere? Anyway, there was never any comeback. Tiffany-the-22nd never heard she’d an extra conviction to take where all the forgiveness is. I got more time ’cause she’d more previous than I had, which was a – which was annoying. But I lost most of it by getting extra remission, for kicking a drug habit I never had. God, it makes my blood boil, there’s dangerous maniacs get to see how dim the police are, every day, and it only encourages them.’

‘You said yes, when they shouted your name?’

‘I mumbled it, and later I pretended to be illiterate, which is common in the nick. They’d have a job pretending I knew, if they ever realise their mistake. But they never will unless you turn me in, and you won’t.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I know you. But here, can I tell you a secret?’

‘What, a bigger one than you’ve just done?’

‘In a way. I was christened Talia, God help me. Oh, don’t laugh, please! I trusted you not to laugh!’

‘I won’t laugh. When did people start calling you Tiffany?’

‘The first time I was taken into care, which is half my life ago. But on paper, only since I got out of the nick. I’m Tiffany Blair now on everything official, benefits and NHS and so on, and even if they made the connection, Talia’s stuff was all juvenile. So I’ve no convictions.’ 

‘All the more reason to go straight now. I’d gladly give up our business if it would help you.’ It was another sacrifice, which she tossed back at me:

‘No bloody fear. My end of this is straight, legally speaking, and anyway, I sort of fancy it. Not just the money, nor even the sex so much, ’cause we got last night’s sort now, but the game. Do you remember how, on that riverbank, I clasped my hands under my chin for a minute?’

‘Yes. What about it?’

‘I didn’t want you to see that my nipples had gone – oh, the way you know they go. It was my hormones putting their oar in, but mostly because no man ever got me into a big adventure before. Viagra could rot on the shelves if everybody had adventure.’ 

‘Oh, I see… I just wanted to be sure you you’re happy about it. But look, if you’re serious about learning, could you use a computer? I’ve still got the one I had before I bought my new Pentium.’

‘Gosh, thanks! You know, I really hate those weak bastards that never made me attend school properly, or noticed that I did really well when I was there, considering what I’d missed. They were too busy doing right by the little Hammonds of this world. And we could never get on the computers enough to learn anything. You really don’t use it?’

‘It’s just in my way. All this isn’t too much trouble for you?’

‘No trouble so far. An’ if ever it is, you can just relax me. Now drink up your coffee, and you can relax me one more time before I got to go.’ 

I found a marvellous pencil drawing of me in the living-room that evening. It was modelled on one of my photographs, but stopped chastely above the nipples. She had clearly heard somewhere how to smear the shadows with a rolled paper stump, and it hadn’t been done while I was asleep. Proper artists sneer at photographic accuracy, nowadays, but ordinary people know better. How long can you play a girl for a fool, who is no fool of any kind? I was scared of how it might end.

That was the beginning, though, of a strange and exhilarating late summer and autumn. We spent a lot of time together, my Wednesdays off in my flat and Sundays in Dumfries. I thought, at one point, she had come close to having cold feet, for during two Wednesdays and a Sunday she claimed to be busy in the video shop. But that passed, and the second Sunday set everything to rights. 

We talked far into the night, usually, about anything and everything, and Tiffany seemed to expand, as her thinking grew brighter and more logical. You will think I have forgotten to give her the accent she had when I first knew her, but that is not true. She always had a Scottish accent, informal but classless, and yet except when she was stirring me up, she lost nearly every trace of dialect you could put into print. She never shortened my name, for example, which I hate, because she felt just the same way about her own. There were vulgarities she loved to tease me with, but others torture couldn’t have dragged from her. I never could see the difference, but logic can take you only so far.

She read voraciously, and right from the start, I noticed, she could change gear instinctively, poring over an idea or skimming from page to page. She thought everybody did that, but lots don’t. Her handwriting, which had always been joined-up and clear, settled into a faster rhythm. She would even put off sex to watch T.V. documentaries – though she made it up later - and she never missed the news, but I doubt if she watched much else. She dressed with unassuming elegance, except when we were indoors, although I never again knew her to wear underwear that would seriously crowd a matchbox.

She insisted on cooking when we were in Dumfries, which was not, initially, her best side. But her cooking grew less menacing with every week that passed, and she never used any kind of processed food for which she could not name the ingredients. A jar of white sugar sat undisturbed on her shelf from week to week, unless she had guests. That had started because she was proud of her teeth, although her passion for chocolate seemed to do no harm to any part of her. She had, of course, spent time where chocolate was hard to get. She took to running on the riverbank most mornings, although she had never been unfit, and it was a pity the season advanced too quickly for us to have more than one or two mornings in my sailing dinghy, which she enjoyed hugely. Her skin became marvellously fine, and her hair grew longer and glossier. 

She didn’t have much money, but something turned up. She had been eager to see just how I had made up the cubic zirconia rings. So I taught her how to do setting work, and soon she was proving extremely competent at soldering. We had been sending our jewellery repairs to Glasgow at that time, and it was not long before the firm was employing Tiffany on a piecework basis. It still intrigues me that I never thought to doubt her honesty with our customers’ property. It had the useful result that when we met old Mr. Maxwell in the street, I was able to introduce Tiffany as our jewellery repairer from Dumfries. 

A few people knew I had a mysterious girlfriend, but when they find out that much about a notoriously private person, it never occurs to them that there could be more. She learned the use of the computer hand over fist, better than me in some ways, which might have been age. So by late autumn she was spending a couple of evenings a week on advertising artwork for a big store in Dumfries. I never liked to ask if it was the store of the Wonderbras incident, but I doubt if they would have recognised her.

She had always hated that dreadful flat, which she had inherited from her parents in some way she never talked about. So it was a relief when the council let her move into a tiny but comfortable studio flat, as they call attics nowadays, above some council offices in the commercial part of Dumfries. It was an odd little place, with sloping ceilings and a round, bull’s-eye window which looked down a steep, pedestrianised street to the river. That window had a stained-glass border, and the sun cast its image across the bed, on some of those bright Sunday afternoons in late autumn. 

Tiffany did a lot of decorating while I was away, and I often helped. She actually hated to accept presents of any value, in a manner very different from the meant-to-be-overcome protests which every jeweller knows. But she considered books an operating expense of the project. She did not have the heart to protest at the fax machine I gave her, and I at once had to put my own in the bedroom away from any casual visitors, when the fuller versions of her drawings started coming through. She could hardly make me uproot a water-heater and electronic shower, which I was able to fit as a fait accompli while she was out, but I had to replace my own washing-machine, as an excuse to give her the old one. She had never been a dirty person, but she seized upon cleanliness as something in which she could be the equal of anybody. I doubt if she realised just how much else there was, compared with the unending banalities of my two unlamented girlfriends. We became each other’s best friend, and second-best was nowhere.

The flat made it easier to break off contact with her local criminal acquaintances. But she twice gave a few days’ hospitality to released fellow-prisoners, which I gathered was some kind of debt of honour. I met those girls, whom I could never see as any less polite or pleasant than anyone else. No doubt they were untypical, since only trusted friends, in prison, would have known her true surname. Even so, Tiffany would never let them be seen with me in public, and avoided going outside with them herself, as much as was tactful. Reputation, clearly, was a valuable commodity.




Tiffany



Just once, while we were painting her windows, I mentioned that those girls seemed far better people than male criminals. She did not attack me, or anything like it, but I had seldom seen her fired with such zeal to make me understand something:

‘James, there are men and women, both, who are more vicious, selfish and beastly than you can ever imagine. They’re the people the old stories about ogres were written about. A lot of it’s done to their own kind, which nobody cares about, and the newspapers don’t print a quarter of it. It’s probably all in the criminology textbooks or whatever, which nobody reads unless he’s taking a salary to say crime’s under control, and isn’t the government wonderful? But it’s far rarer for women than men to be truly dangerous, especially fatally dangerous, and you get the same difference when you compare run-of-the-mill with run-of-the-mill, too. I don’t know why. Not economics, that’s for sure, ’cause there are any number of jobs it’s far easier for a woman to get than a man. Not to mention the jobs, some of them good ones, that you get with a little education and a lot of stocking-top. Besides, didn’t I tell you that girls suggested to me, in the nick, that we team up when we got out, and earn a good living in Glasgow instead of just sitting on our assets? A whole lot of girls get siphoned off into victimless crime that way, that would have been dangerous villains if they’d been men. On the street or taking shorthand slower than longhand, I can’t see the difference, myself.’

‘But you couldn’t do that?’

‘Go on the game? Well, it could have been safety. Girls like me know there’s a huge connection between prostitution, hard drugs and AIDS. Even just from the bonking, say a couple of hundred men a year instead of a dozen, you got to know, with your mathematical education, there’s monstrously more than a couple of hundred twelfths of the danger. There are always people trying to run prostitutes, too, even if it’s only bent policemen cutting out the middle man over fines. Yes, and girls get killed sometimes. But no, it wasn’t any of that. If it had been as safe and comfortable as anything could be, I just couldn’t have, and I don’t know why. Maybe there are prostitutes who feel just the same about stealing – though mind you, the evidence is against it, in my experience. Matthew James, I may seem to joke about serious things… ’

‘You’re not joking now, are you?’

‘I’ll say. You learn things in the nick, and I realised just how many girls like me end up as murder victims, drug victims, alcoholism victims, AIDS victims – every kind of victim there is, and combinations thereof. You’re saving me from all that.’ 

‘Flattery will get you nowhere.’

‘It will if you put down that paintbrush.’

Consider my predicament. This promiscuous, uneducated little teenage thief was revealing herself to be a young lady with whom I’d be proud to have anyone see me. I can’t even claim much credit, for people don’t really change, and it must have been there all the time, albeit obscured by circumstances. But the project stood between us and any normal or public relationship, for while there was no real reason why people shouldn’t know us as a couple, Tiffany thought there was. 

It wasn’t just the idea of attending orgies, for that fascinated both of us now, and I still believe that for people whose own relationship is sound, there’s no better way of keeping a seven-year itch at seven years’ distance. The problem was that dreadful, non-existent robbery, which I could neither explain away nor make happen. The Hamiltons did have that ring, and I wished I had thought to copy something non-existent. But they kept it either at home or in the bank, I didn’t know which, and anyway, I wouldn’t have dared turn my fiction into reality. For if putting both of us in jail was bad, putting Tiffany back into the Stone Age was worse. 

I thought of having the Hammonds die and leave everything to a nephew in New Zealand. But although I could talk convincingly enough about a real plan and slightly pseudonymous Hammonds, I felt she would see a new, out-and-out falsehood in my face now. I would cheerfully have turned the clock back and wooed her in the way my grandmother’s distorted memory said her generation did. But without the dreadful risk of telling Tiffany everything, that couldn’t be done.

Then the replies to my ad started to come in, first a trickle then dozens. I suppose it was quite a picture. We stood aghast at about half of them, which displayed either inadequacy or an obsession with dirtiness which made Tiffany’s previous boyfriends look like the New Man. We checked them all out with the U.K.-Info Disk, and about a third listed a male but no female at the stated addresses, which seemed too many to be newlyweds. A lot more were openly from optimistic single men, although I’d advertised for couples only, and one recounted an experience which is impossible with the female form as usually constituted. The ones we tore up instantly were those which suggested we meet the man’s wife before she knew what was intended, and help him persuade her. 

But some were interesting, and we narrowed them down by stages, to a few couples who seemed motivated by a wholesome sense of fun. Finally we chose Joanne and Martin Hall of Glasgow, in their early thirties, who mentioned a party rather than a foursome, and had both contributed part of the handwriting. I did not try to pass them off as the Hammonds’ friends, and I wondered, at times, that Tiffany never asked who were. We called our first attempt a training mission, to see how things might go.

‘They want us HIV certified,’ Tiffany said. ‘Well, it’s great if we’ll all be. I knew a girl in the nick who’d found out her boyfriend was swinging both ways, and she went to a clinic in Glasgow, and told ’em it was for a foreign visa. They want to meet in public first, so we might as well do the tests in Glasgow as anywhere. A nice lunch, I reckon, then you’ve just got to see the ship models in the Museum of Transport. I was there on a school trip, once, and they beat the hell out of paintings in my opinion, except maybe the Rembrandts.’

‘It says Joanne’s bisexual. Do you mind that?’

‘Not proper bisexual, no. You know I did that a lot in the nick, and would again if I was back, God forbid. But only with my friends, never on the outside, and we always knew men were what we were keeping it warm for. Yes, and when anybody was getting out, we’d say “Give ’em one from me.” I wouldn’t ever do it with a real lesbian, though they vary just as much as anybody else, and some have been good friends. For it would be too bloody serious then. Yes, and I once made one of the bull dykes’ noses bleed, fighting them off, and my friends were sure they’d get back at me, but they never. They aren’t monsters, any more than the men who believe the movies where John Wayne forcibly kisses Maureen O’Hara, and she sort of melts. The main thing is that Martin’s straight. Maybe it’s not fair, but I don’t believe men can do any bisexualising at all, an’ come out of it with their hormones right. But girls can, as you’ve surely noticed, and what we did was cleaner than clean. I tell you, I could just die if you - ’

‘Don’t worry, I won’t. I’m curious to see what other men do, that’s all.’

‘Do with me? I mean, if you mind…’

‘Well, as long as it’s less important than us. I mean, I’d be jealous if you ever started doing another man’s newspaper crossword.’

‘One of these days I’m going to finish it first, and win a case of wine from the sponsor.’

‘It’s funny we never think of cheating at that, isn’t it?’

‘Don’t be daft, Matthew James, that would be criminal. Now just sit still, ’cause unless you want to make a liar of me, you’ve got a present coming from my girlfriends in the nick. Oh, I am glad you reminded me.’

The present was demonstrating how she could come to orgasm by riding astride my thigh, and with that the meeting adjourned.

The clinic had been quicker than we expected, and lunch with the Halls had gone splendidly. We had got on well, and the meeting was set for the following weekend. Glasgow’s restaurants open later in the evening than they used to, so we had a little time on our hands after an afternoon in the museum. Tiffany agreed to walk across Kelvingrove Park to the University library, where I needed to look something up for my historical research. She was good about that sort of thing, and as I knew exactly what I wanted, it should not take long. 

Things went wrong, though, in what was to prove a most astonishing way. They had changed to a new smart card which I didn’t have, and as I had never been a member of the University, we were sent on a tour of corridors, in which we got hopelessly lost. I was apologising to Tiffany as we turned into a sort of foyer in which the last of a crowd, I thought, were disappearing through some double doors. Three middle-aged men in suits, clearly agitated, ran up to us.

‘Miss Blair?’

‘Yes?’ said Tiffany. Had she, I wondered, mentioned her name at the library desk?

‘It doesn’t matter about being late. Just compose yourself for a moment. I must say, I hadn’t expected you to be so young. No reason why you shouldn’t be, of course.’

‘So I’ve always thought,’ said Tiffany, with an edge to her voice they probably didn’t notice, for she was an extremely cool hand nowadays. She was well-dressed, and took a pride in looking more mature than her years.

‘Ah well, if you’ll just step this way. You don’t use notes?’

‘Why would I? James handles all that sort of thing.’

We went down a corridor, into a doorway and through some sort of store-room. Tiffany seemed to be the centre of attention, which seemed odd, unless academics were randier old goats than I’d imagined. And why academics? All I’d expected was a library administrator, and probably a rather bearish one at that.

‘If you’ll just stop here, please,’ one said, barring my way. ‘Don’t want to be on-stage, ha-ha?’

Then it came to me, in horror. The leader was ushering Tiffany through the wings of a stage, towards a lectern which must have been in plain view of the audience.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he announced, ‘I must apologise for the brief delay, but it gives me great pleasure to announce, without more ado, the speaker you have been waiting for. Our subject for the McLaren Memorial Lecture is “The Motivation towards Adolescent Motherhood”, and the speaker is Dr. Marion Blair.’

I was stricken with horror, and for a moment, amid that brief rumble of applause, I saw Tiffany’s knees start to buckle. She reached the lectern, and its support seemed to steady her. In her truly awful place, I would have brought it down with me.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ she said, and her voice steadied too. Thank goodness the public address system was perfect, although a complete breakdown might have had its points. ‘May I say… No, may I admit that on every one of these occasions, I feel as if I am here for the very first time. It’s a feeling many of you will learn to know well. But when we are discussing the young, the inexperienced, the intimidated, I feel that is no very bad thing. I know very well that many of you, before coming here, have treated today’s subject as one for laughter. That is wrong. I can assure you, I sometimes feel as though very little, in age or education, separates me from the girls who form the subject of this lecture. If I succeed today, I hope many of you will feel the same.’

A low buzz ran around the hall, and a few people even tried to applaud. Suddenly I felt better, for once Tiffany got talking, she was seldom lost for words.

‘Motivation towards motherhood,’ Tiffany mused. ‘The curious thing about this subject is, everybody thinks they knew all about it. They think the reason why is as fixed, or should be, as the mechanics of the operation. But are these things ever simple? I sometimes imagine a little green man getting out of a flying saucer, and being told the mystifying facts about what mummies and daddies do, to reproduce our species here on earth. He’d probably believe us, after a while, for there must be other planets where something of the kind goes on. But I bet he’d think us tremendously public-spirited, to go to all that trouble.’

The hall exploded with mirth, and Tiffany shot a glance into the wings. Only I recognised the gesture which bore a trace of George Burns’s two puffs on a cigar, which buy a couple of priceless seconds for thought. She had landed on her feet, and running.

‘Now you think that’s funny,’ she said. ‘Well so it is. But when it comes to teenage motherhood, we have to do what that little green man failed to do. We have to see past the things we take as obvious, and ask ourselves whether there mightn’t be some other motivation we don’t know about… ’

The odd thing was that Tiffany knew a very great deal, some of it full of insight, about why teenage girls become mothers. The students listened, enraptured, to her spirited plea. For that is what it was. She outlined our tendency, on seeing anyone distinct from us by age, race or social background, to regard them as a type, whose attitude to life must necessarily be simpler than ours. Her plea was for all the members of the profession her students would embrace (and God knows what she thought that was), to remember that adolescent mothers varied just as much as anyone else, and weakened or strengthened just as much when pressed by events. She was not, though, against a much stricter line with unmarried pregnancy, preferably before it happened, if the decision-makers and media manipulators would first leave off selling sex and motherhood as the answer to all life’s problems. Finally, she reminded them, statistics said that three or four seats in that very hall were occupied by children of adolescent unmarried mothers. Later, when I told her she’d have had to know the number in the audience to calculate that, she admitted making it up.

‘I’m told,’ she said, ‘these lectures ought to be adjusted to exactly the right length of time. Now I haven’t done so, as you very well know.’ (If they knew whether she was over or under, it was more than she did, though I thought under.) ‘That’s because our subject, surely the most important of your future professional lives, is too serious to be measured out in doses of just the right amount. I’m very glad to have spoken here tonight. Thank you.’

The hall exploded again, and as Tiffany walked off, I saw her exchange a few words with the leader of the men who had brought her there. They had been augmented in number, I noted, by a rather ruffled-looking middle-aged woman, who turned abruptly away. We walked towards the main doorway of the building, and nobody tried to stop us.

‘Wheee!’ Tiffany said, out in the street, and slid her arm through mine. ‘Wheee!’

‘What… Are you all right?’

‘Oh, better than all right, now. I was scared for a minute – God, I felt like I was out there in my tank-top and skin-tight satin, with broad arrows on ’em – but then I got started, and it came right. By God, it’s like a drug in the vein! It must be a rotten job to do every day, though, ’cause it’d be a swindle if you did it on things that bore you stiff. Or if it was all about making those kids into social workers, who never did me any good. But wasn’t it fun! 

‘Fun! I just can’t believe you did that, completely unprepared.’

‘Depends what you meant by unprepared, d’you see? I’ve thought a bit about the situation, ever since I saw the chap in “The Thirty-Nine Steps”, although it’s nowhere near as good as the book, in my opinion. Then they obliged with a lucky subject, ’cause I’ve known a lot more pregnant teenagers than Dr. Butch, even if she does like ‘em young. Know who she is?’

‘Some sort of lecturer, I suppose?’

‘Chairperson of the Board of Prison Visitors. I’ve seen her from a distance, in the nick, and didn’t want visiting any closer, I can tell you.’

‘So what did you tell that man? I was sure we’d get arrested.’

‘Told him it was all his idea, not saying “Dr. Blair” if that was who he meant, and what the papers would make of it, if he missed his chance to hush it up. So he wasn’t as stupid as he looked. Now, I think we’d better clear off before any of the students appear, and start asking questions.’

‘I think we’d better give the library a miss.’

‘H’m, I’m sorry to spoil your plans, but I think you’re right. D’you think the restaurants will be open by now? I’m starving.’

It took me a while to recall just what had been the last time she had said she was starving. It was the first time she came to my flat. Nerves, of course, and some sort of ancient survival mechanism, I assumed. Trust Tiffany not to react like someone ordinary.

Tiffany put her hand on mine, a week later, as I locked the car in that suburban Glasgow street. She was wearing the zirconia ring on a costume-jewellery finger. The Halls were quite unconnected with the Hamiltons, so far as I knew, but it did no harm to be seen with it.

‘Matthew James, can we make an arrangement? Scratching the left ear means please stop what you’re doing. Right ear means time to leave.’

‘All right, just do that and we’ll be out in a minute.’

‘I didn’t mean me. I meant you. “Hope I’m not starting a headache” means we got to talk. A phoney cough and turning the ring around my finger, nervous-like, means this is getting dangerous, and we maybe don’t have a minute.’

‘You don’t think…?’

‘No, I think I trust these people, but that’s when things go wrong. There are millions of things where your opinion is far better than mine, I know. But on seriously dangerous hangups you’d better trust Dr. Blair, ’cause I’ve been there, I have, and seen the elephant. Ah look, there they are at the door.’

Joanne and Martin were a professional couple, Martin tall and muscular and Joanne on the voluptuous side, with long blonde hair. We still got along well, and were soon talking freely about our everyday lives. Well, up to a point, anyway. Tiffany was the centre of attention, for that long, clinging moss-green dress suited her to perfection, although she was a little less than a redhead. Her hair reached her shoulders by now. You would have sworn she wore some kind of magically inconspicuous bra, if her back had not been bare to the waist, and that dress would unfasten at the front with a single clasp, which seemed handy. A perfect back is even rarer, I think, than a perfect front, although the latter gets all the publicity. What is even more remarkable is that she carried off the occasion with perfect aplomb, accepting the attention but contriving not to overshadow Joanne.

The bell rang again, and Martin brought in Peter and Louise. Peter was a little older than any of us, very well-dressed, with a moustache and a strong smell of tobacco, and he was a shade abrupt in his manner, which could have been nerves. But Louise was the shock. She was English, north-country of some sort, and might have been Tiffany’s age, but Tiffany looked older now, and Louise painfully young, with sad, puffy eyes. Her hair was blonde with dark roots, and who am I to complain of tight leopardskin-print satin and a tube top? She spoke like a different species from Peter, and they looked like they had met earlier that evening. It occurred to me that perhaps they had. But no, the Halls had been quite insistent about the HIV certificates.

There was an excellent meal, but as it ended Tiffany wondered if she had a headache coming. We exchanged a few words as she came back from the bathroom, where Joanne had given her a Panadol.

‘Louise is mine, first off,’ she said.

‘Why?’ I faltered. A bisexual element was one thing, but strongly preferring one girl over another was unsettling.

‘To see if she’s got any needle marks, of course. Believe me, you wouldn’t believe the places you got to look. But unless you see my ring turning fast enough to give me friction burns, I’d really like you to have her next.’




Tiffany



The company I work for flew me to corporate for another course, something about sexual harassment, correcting my attitude and crap like that. Apparently, I had been over heard once again making some candid off colour remarks about some little skank running around the office in a short skirt that best could be described as a hot pussy in a belt. She would always be bending over a lot, flashing and flirting. Either wearing a t-back or nothing at all. All I basically said was "that little slut just looking to get punished fucked" or something like that. Anyway so here I am on this multi-day intensive anti-sexual harassment punishment course, blah, blah, blah....

I checked in at the hotel, went to my room and unpacked. Had nothing to do, so I went to the hotel bar which didn't look any more interesting. I knew a peeler bar near by so I ended up spending the evening there. A few drinks, a couple of very interesting lap dances, but nothing that eased any tension, if you know what I mean. I didn't dip my company pen in non-company ink; not that it wasn't offered. I'm so glad this is on expense account. It got late so I returned to the hotel, scoped out the hotel bar again, had a quick nightcap then decided just to go to sleep. 

The next morning, in the hotel lobby, I thought I recognized a face. I walked over to confirm who it was. It was Tiffany, Tiffany Tice. She works at the same office I do, but in a different department, finance I think. I work in Engineering. We started about the same time and there was always something there, but nothing seemed to develop. I'd see her around in the hall every once in a while and always stopped to chat with her. She'd smile and kind of flirt a lot with her eyes at me. Tiffany is about 5-4, with full shoulder length auburn hair, a nice body and legs to match. She always gave me a bone just to think of her. It took me a little while to realize she kind of reminded me of Daphne from Scooby-Doo. Daphne had a nice rack and so did Tiffany. I estimate 35 C's. 

Anyway it seemed she too was on course (albeit a different one than I) to review corporate financial policy on something or rather. I lost interest. I asked, "If you're alone, would you like to meet for drinks and dinner tonight?" I knew she was married. She responded, "Yes that would be great. I would like that and will meet you in the hotel bar."

The day dragged on, and I really wasn't listening to the instructor yak. I looked around the room and noticed neither were the ten other guys in this course. I even noted one or three in the room who were at the same strip bar I was at last night. One for sure who went back with one of the lap dancers for a private dance. Knowing that place, I know his tension was released in one of the dancer's well oiled holes.

The day couldn't end soon enough. Some of the guys wanted to meet for dinner and drinks later, but I declined. I got back to the hotel. Showered, shaved and changed into some business casual stuff. Went down to the bar around 6, looked around for Tiffany but didn't see her. The place was a little packed and the only room was near the end of the bar beside the wall. One stool left which I took. Ordered a single malt neat and waited. Next thing I felt was tapped on the shoulder. I turned around and saw Tiffany. "I was on the other side of the bar." She said. "I saw you come in, look around but you didn't see me wave."

"Yeah, it's a bit packed." I responded. "Take my seat.

I rose and offered her the seat, which she took. The Barkeep took her drink order, Vodka Martini. Then I noticed what she was wearing, a very nice business suit with a fitted skirt. Under the jacket instead of a blouse was a dark silk camisole with lace trim. As she sat, the skirt rose to about 8 inches above her knees. She wore dark stockings and 5 inch high strappy sandals to finish her ensemble. You know the hot looking executive outfit advertising the do-anything attitude to get ahead. Give head more likely.

With my back towards the wall, we sipped our drinks and talked about the day (I of course avoided telling her the real reason why I was on there and said I was at meetings). All the while, we were "eye flirting" with each other. Tiffany kept up her end of the conversation, smiled, flirted and every so often would place her hand on my arm or hand as if to accentuate something. All classic moves as part of the game. I began to notice she would cross and re-cross her legs more often. Each time, the hem of her skirt would inch up slightly exposing more and more leg. It finally inched up high enough to expose the fact she was wearing garters with her stocking. I thought "great stocking rather than the dreaded panty hose." The white suspenders contrasted the dark stockings and started to make my groin stir slightly. 

I looked up to say something to Tiff again but she had caught me staring at her exposure and gave me a sly smile. This was a good sign. "Nice view?" she said. 

"Huh? Sorry what did you say?" I stuttered out.

"Your room, does it have a nice view?"

"Not as nice as the one here." I said looking at her legs.

Tiff averted her eyes, smiled and continued to re-cross her legs driving the seam even higher. High enough to let me view her matching white silk with lace panties. 

I leaned towards her feinting to whisper something into her ear, slipped my left hand under her jacket and moved it towards her right breast. As I cupped her tit, I thumbed her nipple and I whispered how hot she looked. Definitely different than the normal attire I saw her in at home office. As I nibbled on her ear, I could hear her moan slightly.

As I continued to discretely play with her nipple, Tiffany snuck a hand down to my crotch to find me sporting an erection. Tiff gave it a few strokes through my Dockers checking out the length and girth. I moved my hand from under her jacket to her legs then moved it up slowly under her skirt towards her vee. She uncrossed and spread her legs a bit to allow me easier access. She made an almost inaudible moan as I reached her pussy and stroked her lips through her panties. I started to feel a little wetness soaking through the silk material. 

Crap. A couple of the guys from my class noticed me at the bar and were coming over. We quickly removed our hands as not to be caught. I brought my finger to my nose and inhaled her fragrance, then licked my finger to savour her liquid. Tiffany smiled as she pulled her hem down just enough to hide her suspender clips. 

"Tiff, these are some of the guys from the same meeting I'm attending." I made sure to accentuate "meeting" hoping the guys would catch on. I introduced, "This is Tom, Bill and Scott. This is Tiffany. We work out of the same office." Tiff smile her beautiful smile and shook their hands. She looked directly into their eyes gave them that teasing look. Then she looked at me and gave me that "I'm only yours" look.

We all continued to make small talk as we had a couple of more drinks. I managed to steer the conversation away from any course material and the guys seemed to catch on and kept quiet. All the while, Tiffany would cross her legs and flash me, showing me her wet spot which had grown substantially. 

"If you gentlemen will excuse me I need to go to the Ladies." Tiff suddenly announced. 

Scott commented after she left, "Fuck she's hot. No wonder you didn't want to join us for dinner." 

Tom agreed, "Yeah you bastard, where did you find her?" 

Bill noted "Nice legs. I like the way she keeps flashing you. Better not say anything in tomorrow's class, not unless you want to get suspended or canned."

After what seemed like a long while, Tiffany returned and took her seat again. Crossed her legs to flash me she had removed her panties. In that brief glimpse, I could make every detail of her lips and clit. They were puffy, wet and slick. Her eyes told me it was because of me. My hardening cock told me I've got to fuck this girl.

"Did you gentlemen talk about me while I was gone?" she questioned. We looked at each other not really knowing what to say. "Well," she continued, "since I suspect you guys are probably cads and not gentlemen, I know you talked about me."

The guys recognized I wanted to get into Tiffany's panties (they didn't know she had already removed them). "Well" said Bill, "we need to go and prep for tomorrow so we'll leave you two alone." 

"What the hell kind of made up sort of excuse was that?" I thought. "Er thanks. I said as they got up and left. They also left me with the bill, those bastards.

After they were gone, Tiffany opened her little purse and pulled out something. "I've got a gift for you." She placed it in my hand. It was soaking wet. I looked and realized they were her panties, thongs actually. I brought them to my nose and confirmed they were soaked with pussy juice, her pussy juice. She whispered to me "When I went to the bathroom, I was so horny that I had to masturbate in the ladies. I just pulled up my skirt and fingered myself through my panties. They got so wet when I came, I had to remove them.""

I commented "I not really hungry...for food." She agreed "Let's go to my room for 'room service'." I paid the bill, and left Tiff's wet thong on the bar with the cash. I was sporting a raging hard on so I had Tiffany lead the way to help hide my massive tenting. We entered the elevator and pushed the floor button. Before the doors even closed, I started sucking on Tiffany's face. I grabbed the hem of her skirt and pulled it up around her hips to get access to her pussy. She spread her legs a bit as I fingered her cunt lips and clit. She was soaked. "Fuck I'm sooo horny. I can hardly wait to feel your cock inside me." Her hands slipped down desperately trying to find my zipper. She managed to pull down my fly and pull out my cock. I thought "Well no misunderstanding her intensions anyway."

As we reached her floor, she didn't fix her skirt, leaving her pussy and ass exposed. I continued to manipulate her clit as she begged me not to stop. Walking was a bit difficult and slow. The chance of being seen was immense making it even a hotter scenario.

We reached her door and carded in. We sucked face against the open door. She kneeled until her mouth was even with my raging hard on, then in one go, engulfed the entire length. I could feel her nose pressing against my pubic hair as her tongue licked my balls. She bobbed her head back and forth, pulling my ass with her hands trying to force more cock in her mouth. I could feel the head of my cock go down her throat.

Only then did I notice two male Japanese tourists in the hallway taking pictures of us. I nudged Tiffany into the room still sucking away. I closed the door as our observers gave me the thumbs up sign. 

The feeling of her mouth was incredible. And while I wanted it to last a long time, I knew I wouldn't. I had to push Tiffany off my cock. She fell to the floor, looking up at me with a mock hurt feeling look, then smiled seductively.

"I'll get us a couple of drinks." I took a seat on the chesterfield as she got up and went to the bar fridge and got us a couple of mini bottles of vodka. With one bottle in each hand, she walked over to me, shimmied up her skirt which had slipped down a bit and mounted me. She closed her eyes as she bit her lower lip and squirmed around back and forth until my knob was in just the right position to enter her. Her opening was so wet; my dick just slid into her cunt up to the hilt without any effort. She opened her mouth "Aah!" she moaned as she grounded her hips down. 

Tiff handed me a bottle, we cheered, shot the bottles and threw them across the room. Fortunately plastic doesn't shatter. She continued to ride me as if it was her only priority. It didn't take her too long before she came, and came hard. I could feel my cock being soaked by her juice. I swear there was a small pool of female cum juice on the couch as we both got up to move to the bed. 

I finished stripping off but made her remained dressed. It's often hotter fucking a pussy sexy clothed than a totally naked. She knelt on all fours on the bed, her pussy dripping and waiting. Standing behind, I drove my steel rod into her, pumping it in and out. As wet as she was, Tiff was incredibly tight. I'm not sure the last time her husband fucked her, but it couldn't have been for a while. She was so fucking horny it took only a few minutes of hard fucking before she came again. And while I was close, I still hadn't come yet. 

I sat on the edge of the bed as she mounted my again. "I loved having your cock up my cunt." I started removing her suit, only leaving her in her stocking, garters and CFM's. 

I asked her "When was the last time your husband fucked you?" She just said "I'm always so fucking horny. I need a fat cock like yours to satisfy me. He just can't do it." With that, she started thrusting her hips up and down, moaning and groaning. "Keep fucking me harder and deeper you bastard!" She grunted. "I want to come again!"

Without leaving the tightness of her cunt, I lifted her up and flipped her onto the bed, then continued to fuck her in earnest. I needed to come. I realized I wasn't wearing a cap, and I really didn't care whether she was fertile or not I was going to shoot my load into her. I screamed "I going to cum!!" She screamed back "Fuck me! Come on! Pump me hard! Fill me with your seed!!"

I hadn't come this hard in a long time. "I'm cumming!!!!" I must have shot 5 or 6 huge wads deep inside her. All of a sudden, the huge surge of wet female cum squirted between us.

As I withdrew, I noted how soaked with pussy cum I was. Tiff was exhausted, moaning, laying on the bed, legs spread with cum starting to leak out of her cunt and dribbling down to her ass crack.

I could now hear a shuffling noise coming from the closet which I now notice was open. I ordered whoever was in there to come out. It was some wienie naked guy, head down and unable to look me in the eye. Tiff begged me :Don't hurt him. It's Jeff, my husband."

I looked between Jeff's legs and noted this thing that looked like a cigarette. No longer than 2 ½ inches long, no thicker than a carpenter's pencil....stiff. He snuck a stare between Tiff's legs and watched my jizz still dripping out of her cunt. His "dick" started jumping up and down on its own then he suddenly shuddered and this white stuff (I assume his cum), barely a couple of drops appeared and dripped on his leg. He then looked down at his feet again.

I told Jeff to just stand there and not move, before I turned to Tiff. "What the fuck is gong on?"

She began to tell me "Jeff and I were both virgins when they were married. When we tired to consummate our marriage, he could even break her hymen let alone get me to come. When we tried to fuck, I could barely feel anything." 

She continued, "I was so tired of unfulfillment, I started using dildos and vibrators, they took my cherry. His only sexual satisfaction was to watch me masturbate, but I wouldn't let him masturbate while he watched me so he learned to cum without touching himself. I got so disgusted, I wouldn't even suck him off or allow him try and enter me.

Tiff continued to explain over the few years they were married and as she played and explored herself, she learned she was a squirter. "I also realized I needed a real cock. A big cock. Certainly bigger than tiny wiennie there. So when you asked me for drinks and dinner, I decided tonight was the night. I never said I was alone, only agreed to meet with you. When I grabbed your cock in the bar, I knew how big it was and I wanted it. I told Jeff what I was planning to do and that he could either find some place to wait or hide in the closet. I didn't give a shit. I guess he chose the closet.

I stood there for a minute, trying to digest what I just did and heard. Looked at Tiff, then at Jeff, then back at Tiff. She looked towards the floor, so ashamed to have to admit her tale. She looked upwards into my eyes with that "begging for forgiveness" look.

Finally I spoke. "We will continue to have sex whenever, wherever and whatever I want it. Even if it is at the office. No complaints. No arguments. Otherwise I report you to HR and your ass is grass."

Tiff broke a smile and nodded with agreement. Jeff started to say something "I'm not so sure I..." 

"Shut up small dick!" I cut him off. "This has nothing to do with you. You will continue to support Tifffany until she no longer has any other use for you. If you complain, I'll let everyone at your office know what a dickless shit you are. Do you understand!" It was a command more than a question.

Jeff just stood there, eyes downward, only able to nod his head in agreement.

I moved in front of Tiff. "Suck me hard, I want to fuck you again." Without one word of argument, Tiff opened her mouth and started to suck me again. I looked at Jeff. He had already started to get hard again. "Turn around. Face the other way." I ordered him. "Just stand there and listen how your wife enjoys real cock." as Tiffany continued to moan and suck me as if it were her god. I fucked her a number of times that night all the while making Jeff stand there.

Back at the office, I instructed her to only wear skirts, nylons with garter or stayups. Panties were optional seeing I was planning to rip them off anyway. I'd fuck her in the guy's can, the file room, or wherever I could think of. I had her suck me off in my office or in my car in the parking lot. Sometimes I would just bend her over the hood and fuck her in the open. I would make her play with herself at her desk or in my office where I could watch.

At her home or when we went out, she was to only wear slut cloths if any at all. Wherever we went, I make Jeff follow and watch. I also made him pay Tiff and my "date" bills since I considered fucking his wife work. I made him stand and listen whenever Tiff and I had sex, but never let him watch. 

Not once did either complain or argue about this arrangement, but I was starting to get tire of this relationship. What could I do next?



Tiffany



There she was: Tiffany Cartwright. The brown-haired girl I had fallen for at first site. We had pretty much been in the same class since elementary school, so she knew who I was, but I doubt that she cared.

Every day after school I would sit under a tree and pretend to study while I watched Tiffany and the other cheerleaders practice their drills, and cheers. I had done so for almost the last 4 years, with our senior year coming to an end in a few months. During that time I continually attempted to muster the courage to ask her out, or just to say more than hello or goodbye, but never did. I really wasn't expecting her to come over and talk to ME; but she did.

Practice was over, and I waited a few minutes as I usually did, before packing up my books to head home. Just as I slung my bag over my shoulder I heard somebody call my name, "Bradley, wait!" I took a few steps, figuring it had to be some other Bradley, because there was no way the person whose voice that belonged to was calling after me. She called again, "Hey Brad!" This time she was closer. I turned around and froze at what I saw. Tiffany Cartwright was jogging in my direction, calling MY name! I looked around once more before she reached me, just to make sure there weren't any other, more popular, better-looking Bradleys around. 

She walked the last few steps to where I was standing. "Hey," she said and gave me a leg-melting smile. My jaw lay slack for a moment before I got my cool.

"Uh… hey, T-Tiffany," I said as smoothly as possible. "What's up?"

"Not a lot, I was just wondering if I could ask you a favor?" If she had asked me to rob a bank or assassinate the President, I would have without hesitation. But after a quick nod from me, she just said, "I've got this big Math mid-term coming up, and I'm a little embarrassed to say, but I really need some help if I'm going to get a good grade. I've noticed you always studying so hard and I thought you might be able to help me."

She didn't know the studying I did was just a cover to check her out, but as luck would have it, I was a wiz at math. If it had been English, or history, it might have led to embarrassment later. Either way, my answer still would have been, "Y-yes, of course. I'd be helpy to hap you. I mean happy to help you."

She smiled at me and bounced on her toes a little. I couldn't help but notice how her Breasts bounced inside that cute cheerleader top she had on. She wasn't top-heavy or anything, but definitely larger for her size.

"So, when do we start professor?" she asked and looked me straight in the eye. I lost myself for a moment in her hazel eyes, before I noticed her pink lips repeating the question, "Uh, when do we start, sir?"

"Oh, uh, Bradley is fine. And we can start whenever you have some time."

"Ok, well if you're free tonight, I'm just going to run in and shower. Then we can go study at my place." Her place!? Immediately my eighteen year old mind began conjuring up some steamy fantasies. I was brought quickly back to reality when I noticed she was still waiting for my response.

"That'd be great. I don't have plans tonight," or any night for that matter, "shall I wait here and give you a ride, or meet you at you place later."

"I'll need a ride. Be right back!" And with that she turned and ran back into the school. Thoughts of what she was about to do, plus a little imaginative embellishment, began to arouse me almost the moment she disappeared into the school. I high-tailed it to my car, to avoid any embarrassment and/or public humiliation I might receive had anybody noticed my newly pitched tent.

It didn't take her long to shower and come back to the car. She had, of course, changed out of her cheerleading clothes and into something at least, if not more, appealing to the eye. She was now wearing a black pair of fleece pants with the word "angel" printed across her round backside and the matching hoodie-style top that ended at her bare midriff (which was trim and tanned, but still soft-looking.) I averted my eyes just in time to avoid getting caught staring.

The trip to her house was quick and uneventful, as was the majority of the rest of the evening. There were several times I thought she was flirting with me, but I dismissed the thoughts as wishful thinking. At the end of the study session we decided to get together four times a week for the next three weeks until her test was over.

Over those three weeks I became very relaxed around her, and hoped she had warmed up to me enough to be able to spend time together after she had taken the math test. On our last day, she said with a pouty look on her face, "Oh, I can't believe the test is tomorrow and we won't have an excuse to see each other anymore."

At first, I interpreted that was a nice way of saying, "I'm done with you, back to the nerdery with the other geeks until I have need of you again!" But my disappointment was short lived when I noticed her face suddenly light up with an idea.

"Hey, why don't we get together tomorrow night and celebrate the A plus I know I'm going to get on that test! Yeah, my parents are leaving for the weekend, so we could order pizza and stay up late watching movies and stuff," she sounded genuinely excited.

"Well, I'd never turn down a night of pizza and movies with a beautiful girl like you," I said in a fit of daring. To my surprise she blushed slightly before leaping across the table and giving me a swift kiss on the lips.

I had no time to react or to remain in shock, for quickly after that she jumped up and guided me toward the door saying, "Now you better get out and let me get my rest, I'll need it if I'm going to be sure to get that A plus tomorrow!"

I don't know for sure what happened after that, but I assume I drove myself, got ready for bed, and went to sleep, because the next morning I awoke in my bed, with my pajamas on backwards, and a feeling of pure elation (and a wedgie.) Taking extra time with my hygiene, I got ready for school and drove quickly so I wouldn't be late for my first class. Not that I learned anything mind you. The day went painfully slow and I never thought it would be over. One time, during my history class, I actually thought I saw the clock ticking backwards.

Finally, at three o'clock, the bell rang. I went to our usual meeting place under my tree and waited for her to arrive. There was no practice for her today, because the basketball team was on an away game, and our school didn't have the dough to cart the cheerleaders around with the team. I saw her and my heart sank. She was wearing a heart-breaking expression and walked with a down-trodden shuffle. I almost burst in to tears just looking at her.

"I didn't get my A plus," she said and the pieces of my heart broke into smaller ones. All was well when I saw her mesmerizing smile break through and she exclaimed, "But I did get an A, one hundred percent!" She kissed me on the cheek and did a little dance that involved a lot of bouncing (oh yes), and a few pelvic thrusts (oh god yes!) "How's 'bout me and you start that celebration?" she didn't have to ask and didn't wait for my answer before jumping in my car.

We made a few stops on the way to her place for our celebration goods: The video store, for our movie marathon, the grocery store, for tons of cheap candy, and the Pizza place, for way more pizza than the two of us could ever eat in one night. "Hopefully," I thought to myself with plenty of doubt, "I'll be there to eat cold pizza for breakfast."

Once we made it to her place, she told me all the details about the test she took and how she expertly answered each question. We ate our pizza and settled on the couch to watch the three movies we'd rented. At first, we started out on near opposite ends of the couch, but by the end of the third movie, she had her laid her head comfortably on my lap. I had to concentrate very hard on the movie to avoid poking her in the side of the head. When the last movie was over she sprang up and said, "Man, I'm not even tired! Wanna watch another one?"

"I'm game," I'd never leave if she didn't make me. We went through a list of movies she had in her living room, which she shot down one by one for one reason another. I was beginning to fear the night was over, when she had another idea light up her face.

"Hey, do you like cheesy old westerns?" she asked and smiled.

"Um, I don't know," I replied truthfully. "I think I've only seen part of a John Wayne movie once."

"Well, my dad has a box up in his room with a bunch of stuff he recorded off of TV; mostly old westerns and stuff. Wanna see what he's got?" and she was away and back with the box before I could nod my head. We rummaged through the box and looked at the tapes, all of which had hand-written titles on the outside like, Great Black and White movies, or, Famous actresses. She grabbed the one titled, Classic Westerns and said, "Well, we might as well start with the classics." I nodded and she popped in the tape, spun around and jumped next to me on the couch. She wasn't close enough for me to put my arm around her, but I put my arm on the back of the couch, hoping she'd see my invitation and take it.

The movie started like any old western. The sky was blue, the sun was blaring down on some cowboys in the middle of a gunfight. "Oh, this is exciting," Tiffany was getting really into it already. Suddenly, the tape went blank and blurry for a moment before a new picture showed up. This one looked like it had been filmed much more recently and was set in a hotel room. A brawny man stood at the edge of the hotel bed wearing only a towel and speaking on a cell phone. There was a knock on his door and a voice from the other side yelled, "Housekeeping!" The man went and looked through the peephole to reveal a smoking hot, fair-skinned, black haired girl wearing a tiny French maid's uniform. 

"I wonder what the heck this is," Tiffany wondered aloud. I already knew, but was too embarrassed to say. I'd just let her find out on her own. The man in the movie let her in and locked the door behind her. She bent over sexily, while dusting his furniture to reveal she wasn't wearing any panties. I looked over at Tiffany to see her reaction. She still hadn't figured it out yet. The thought of her being so innocent made her all the more attractive to me. 

The camera changed and showed the man again. He had hung up the phone and was staring intently at the maid, or more specifically, up the maid's skirt. The camera panned down a little and showed a huge bulge in the man's towel. The maid turned around, and obviously pretended not to notice. She glanced over again and bit her lip while one of her hands caressed her breast.

All at once Tiffany realized what it was, "Oh my gosh… it's a porno!" Her eyes went wide and she looked at me. I put on my best surprised face and stared back at her. To my surprise she didn't jump up and turn it off, instead she watched intently for a few moments, her face going pink. By now the man and the maid were both completely nude and groping each other fiercely. I watched for a moment out of the corner of my eye, than looked back at Tiffany.

"We don't have to watch this, if you don't want to," she said looking slightly embarrassed now.

"Its up to you," I said, "you can change it if you want to." In truth, I was getting pretty turned on just watching her watch it.

"I'm fine if you're fine," she said quietly, then slowly turned her head back to the screen. I didn't resume watching the movie though. For now, I was intent on looking at her sitting Indian style next to me on the couch. She wore some tight, black, cotton shorts and a little white t-shirt that puckered up in the front just enough to show some skin. If I looked closely I could see the line of her panties under her shorts, and the outline of a white sports bra under her shirt. She had on her feet, a pair of multi-colored toe socks that were just as cute as she was. 

I turned my attention back to the movie. The maid, who the man now referred to as either, "dirty little slut," or "whore" was laid backwards on his face and sucking vigorously on his manhood. The camera swung around to show the man using his tongue on her; flicking it quickly back and forth before burying his face. I heard Tiffany make a little gasp and was surprised when I turned and looked at her. She was very flexible, thanks to the cheerleading drills, which explained how she was able to what she was doing; with one leg dangling off the couch now, she was grinding her other heal in between her legs with hand moving it slightly up and down. She didn't notice I was looking. I don't even think she knew realized she was doing it. 

We watched the couple have sex in almost every position. The whole time Tiffany's eyes were wide and focused on the action on the screen. Toward the end of the scene, the maid finished the man off with more oral and moaned as he came in her mouth and on her face. Instead of spitting it out and letting it run down her cheek like I've usually seen, she swallowed everything in her mouth and licked up what wasn't. That was nearly enough to make me go off, but I held it together. As the maid finished licking off her fingers, I say Tiffany stick the end of her finger in her mouth for just a moment, and watched her surprise when there was nothing on it. 

That was it for me. I jerked a little on the couch and came a little into my pants. Nothing big, but it was enough for a wet spot to appear on my pants. It was then that Tiffany realized both my wet spot, and her own, which was harder to see because of her black shorts. She turned a slightly darker shade of red, but looked back expectantly at the TV. The scene had changed to a pool with two topless women sun-bathing on their towels. All at once the screen went fuzzy and blank, and then a picture reappeared of a cowboy and Indian riding their horses off into the sunset, followed by a giant, "The End" filling the screen and fading out.

"That was some western," Tiffany said laughing, breaking our awkward silence. We began laughing quite hard and she fell over and placed her head on my lap. This time, I wasn't relaxed as before, and she landed right on something hard.

She stared up at me for a moment, not embarrassed at all. Her lips relaxed out of her smile into an intense look. She grabbed my shirt and slowly pulled me down while lifting her head to meet mine. The kiss was passionate, deep and long. I felt like I was soaring through the air. After kissing for a while in that position, I could feel her start to tremble and become weak, so I lowered her back down to my lap. She stared back up at my and smiled. Then bit her lip and avoiding my gaze asked, "Have you ever, you know… done it before?"

After a moment I answered truthfully, but sheepishly, "No. Have you?"

"No. I always thought I'd wait for somebody I could fall in love with before I took that step," she said quietly. This somewhat deflated my hopes, but I wouldn't let lack of sex ruin this perfect night. That kiss I knew I would remember for the rest of my life. I was somewhat surprised by what she said next, "I think I love you. No, I know I do. Do you love me?"

I can't believe she had to ask. I told her the words I'd been wanting to tell her my entire life, "Tiffany Cartwright, I've loved you since the first time I saw you. I always have, and always will. I never thought in my wildest dreams you'd say the same to me." 

She sat got up and moved her way onto my lap. Facing me, she wrapped her legs around me and we kissed again as deeply and passionately as the first. We kiss for what seemed like forever, before she broke away from my lips and began kissing my neck. I knew she could feel how hard I was, but I wasn't trying to hide it anymore. I returned her attention by kissing down her neck and added my own touch by reaching up and massaging her breast. She jumped when I touched her, then relaxed and flung back her head in enjoyment. I used both hands to rub her as best I could through her shirt and sports bra. She stopped me after a minute or two and removed her shirt and bra. Her breasts were more gorgeous than I'd ever imagined, and believe me I'd spent some time imagining them. The nipples were hard and I experimented a little, grabbing them with my thumb and forefinger and turning them just a little. She gave a little squeal, but she must have liked it because she started grinding up against me a little.

I pulled her closer to me and took her breasts each in turn, into my mouth. I flicked my tongue on her nipples, before sucking lightly on each one. My hands remained massaging and caressing her breasts and body as I did so. Her grinding became increasingly hard, and on one extra passionate thrust, I cried out in pain. I was still inside my jeans after all and had a zipper to deal with.

She jumped, realizing the reason of my outcry immediately, and hopped off my lap. While standing in front of me, she did her little joy dance, this time with a little less bouncing, a lot more gyrations, and some added body caressing. In mid dance, she stopped and grabbed one breast in her hand and pushed it up towards her face. She stuck out her tongue and licked the nipple like she saw the maid in the movie do. 

"Oh… my… god that's hot!" I couldn't help but tell her. She seemed to have been waiting for some praise, for after I said that she took two steps toward me and began undoing my pants. As she pulled down my pants, my hardness sprang out and, I think, surprised her. She jumped back up and pulled me up off the couch and started kissing me again. It was my turn now. I kissed down her neck and chest and down her stomach until I was kneeling in front of her. A sweet and distinct smell came from beneath her wet shorts. Being eager to explore, I swiftly pulled down her shorts and panties to reveal her little mound. There was some hair, but it was neatly trimmed and cared for, which I guess was because of all the public showers she had to take with the squad. I spun her around and set her on the couch, using the opportunity to remove the shorts from around her ankles. With my right hand, I grabbed one leg and spread it apart from the other. She moved the other one by herself, giving me open access to what I wanted. My lips kiss down her thigh towards the center, but I stopped short of the goal.

"I don't want the other leg to feel left out," I said, somewhat teasingly. After covering both legs with soft, tender kisses, I moved to her beautiful cooch. I kissed it deeply, before I began repeating what I had seen in the movie; flicking my tongue on her, before burying my face and deeply licking, kissing, and sucking on her. Tiffany started moaning softly and pushing her hips into my face.

"Don't stop, that feels sooo good," Tiffany begged. I redoubled my efforts, feeling confident in my ability now. My right hand that I had only been using to steady myself, I now brought into the action. I used two fingers to rub and tickle in addition to my mouth. Tiffany gave three short gasps; then a loud moan as her hips began bucking erratically. I did my best to keep going without getting a fat lip before she cried, "Ok stop! That's too much." She was giggling uncontrollably now. I stood up, my hard rod knocking up against her leg. 

She lay there only for a moment before she jumped up to trade places with me. "I hope you enjoy this as much as I did," she said slyly. I knew I would. Her hand grabbed a hold like it was a joystick and she tested it out a little; moving it gently side to side and up and down. She slid her hand down to the base to hold it steady while her other hand caressed the length of the shaft with her finger tips. The tip was very moist already and a drop of liquid ran down the shaft. She looked in awe for a moment before taking the tip into her mouth. For a few moments, she just held it there, slightly sucking. Then, her tongue began exploring the head, swirling around it and tracing its outline. 




Tiffany



Sitting on the steel table in tight black leather pants, I attached a collar that read "Slut." Tiffany had given it to me and instructed I put it on.

From across the room she yelled, "Just lay back slut, I am going to have some fun with you." A smirk appeared on her face.

The table was a bit cold on my bare back. Tried to ignore it, didn't take much when I could see what she was wearing. My cock hardened. Tiffany was wearing shoulder length gloves, a corset with straps, a pair of panties and stockings that glistened in the light. All latex. My favorite.

"It appears someone is already getting excited," she whispered towards my ear. 

She rubbed my dick through the leather pants. I wasn't wearing anything underneath, so the feeling was astounding. Grabbing and slapping at my leather covered crotch. I'd jump each time. It both surprised and excited me. 

Her tongue started at my balls and moved up to my bare stomache. She moaned a bit as she squeezed. My cock was straining against the leather until she finally let it out.

"Mm, so big. Did I cause that?" she laughed as she reached over to her cigarettes. The smell of menthol filled the room as she lit up. Blowing smoke over my balls then deeply inhaling before putting them in her mouth.

"You love that, don't you slut?"

I shook my head.

Tiffany walked towards me, cigarette hanging from her blood red lips. Leaning forward she put her large d cup breast in my face, "Since I gave you a bit of pleasure, I'm going to get some of my own."

Climbing on the table, I saw the latex panties move closer until they were pressed firmly against my face. The smell of latex, smoke and her cunt filled my nostrils. Licking wildly at the tight panties that covered her, she pushed her pussy against me harder. Tiff puffed away at her cigarette, inhaling more as I started pushing the smooth material inside of her with my tongue.

"Mmmm, yes, lick my cunt. Breathe in my scent you fucking worthless whore. Yeah... you fucking love it."

She couldn't be more right.

Suddenly, I felt her rise up. Took one last hit off her cig and tossed it aside.

Looking over at her I became confused. She was putting a condom on my prick. We never used condoms but I ignored it.

Tiffany got up onto the table and slowly brought her body down. Moving the latex aside, she sat on my dick. Starting off at a slow pace to drive me wild.

She moaned before saying, "Hope you don't mind if I have a smoke while I let you fuck me."

The cigarette hung from her mouth before she inhaled and took it out. Holding tightly between her latex fingers. Her breast bounced up and down as she rode me harder. The smoke floated through the air.

My cock was throbbing and it was hard to take all of this. I started thrusting with her body. Pushing every inch of me inside of her wet slit. Pounding her opening as she moaned loudly. Occasionally trying to quiet herself with a long drag on her cigarette.

"Ohhh fuck," I exclaimed, knowing it was too late to prevent.

My semen spurted several times, filling up the condom. Lying back, I closed my eyes.

She stared me down, "I Guess I won't be getting off. You fucking useless piss rag. Get over here!"

I really didn't want to but I listened anyway. She pulled the condom off and tossed me to my knees.

"You are going to drink every last drop of your milky cum here"

I shook my head but changed my mind quickly when she about ripped my hair out. She pulled and gritted her teeth, yelling at me. So I agreed.

"Open up my little cum slut."

Closing my eyes, I slowly opened my mouth all of the way. I knew I had filled that condom up and wasn't looking forward to it.

Then it hit my tongue. It just kept dribbling out into my mouth. It felt like it was never going to end. I gagged but forced myself to swallow it all.

"All gone?" she asked me.

I shook my head as she pulled my mouth open with her latex gloved fingers and fucked my throat with them before smearing it across my face.

An alarm went off. I smacked it, disoriented. Damn. It was all a dream. Perhaps, Tiffany would be willing to make that a reality...one could hope!



Tiffany



I flirt with the ladies. It is just something that I did. I did it without even thinking about it; it just came natural. None of them were ever going to take me up on anything I said and I knew it. Christ, I was fifty-two years old and the girls I flirted with were all in their twenties and were married or had boyfriends. Besides, they all knew my wife and thought that we were happily married.

We weren't. Weren't happily married I mean, and hadn't been since the day two years ago when I found her in bed with another man. Harry Wiggins had cut his hand on the job and the boss had me drive him to the emergency room at the hospital. It was close to lunchtime so while Harry waited for them to do whatever it was that they were going to do I thought I'd run home for lunch.

That was something that I had never done before because I only got half an hour for lunch break and the house was twenty minutes from work. There was a car that I didn't recognize in the driveway and I figured that Lois had some girlfriend over. I knew that wasn't so as soon as the front door closed behind me.

The loud, "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," coming from the bedroom upstairs told me what was going on. I walked up the stairs and down the hall to a chorus of "Oh yes, oh yes, harder baby, harder, don't stop, I'm almost there, don't stop now."

The bedroom door was open and I stood in the doorway and watched some man I'd never seen before fuck Lois from behind while she cried, "Oh yes baby, fuck me, fuck me hard. Jesus, I can never get enough of your cock baby, I love your cock. Give it to me baby, give it to me."

Her head was on a pillow and she was on her knees and from where I stood in the doorway I couldn't tell whether he was in her ass or pussy, but then it didn't really matter -- it was still infidelity. They hadn't noticed me and I stood there debating on whether to wade in swinging or just yell out, "Honey, I'm home" and watch them scramble, but in the end I did nothing. I turned and left the house and went back to the hospital to wait for Harry.

+++++++++++

I never did tell Lois that she had been busted. I just accepted the fact that she was an unfaithful whore and let it go. I had no idea how long it had been going on and no idea why. I had thought that we had a good marriage and I know, or at least I thought I did, that there was nothing wrong with our sex life. We made love three and sometimes four times a week, sometimes twice in a night and I was willing to do anything that she wanted. What was important however, is that the marriage was dead -- not over, just dead. 

Why not over? Because I didn't have the energy for it. I'd been married once before and my first divorce had ruined me financially and had made me into an emotional basket case for years. If I was thirty-five or forty I might have done it, but not at fifty. Why start over? Lois kept a clean house, was a good cook, and did the laundry and all the other things that a wife does to make life move smoothly. We didn't argue or fight so I just decided to settle for a comfortable existence. So I said nothing about what I saw and life went on. 

The only change was that I stopped having sex with Lois. When she asked why I told her that I was having some problems and was seeing a doctor. After two months I told her that I had acute erectile dysfunction and that I couldn't get a hard on. Another two months went by and then I told her that I had tried everything that the doctor had suggested, but that nothing worked and she would just have to get used to the fact that the sexual part of our marriage was over. She wasn't really happy about it, but I really didn't give a shit about how she felt about it.

I didn't give up sex though. There was a woman I went to high school with and she had lost her husband in the First Gulf War and she supplemented her income by servicing a few select customers and I paid her a visit twice a week.

++++++++++++++++

Lois and I were in the habit of going out for breakfast every Saturday and Sunday and we always ate at the same restaurant. The place was just around the corner from where I worked and I had lunch in there two or three times during the week. There was a waitress working there named Tiffany and she was a lot of fun to be around. A tall girl, almost six feet, and with a hard, tight body to die for. She had the goods and she knew how to dress to show them off. Low hip huggers and tops that emphasized her high breasts and flat stomach. She had a wild side to her and she had several tattoos and a piercing or two that she also loved to show off.

I got in the habit of flirting with her at lunchtime and after a couple of months we had developed a rapport. The flirting progressed from the simple to the borderline raunchy and Tiff gave as good as she got. She had a stud through her tongue and one day I said, "One of these days you are going to have to explain or better yet, show me what the purpose of that thing is."

She stuck her tongue out at me and said, "First you will have to show me that your health insurance is up to date. When I put you in the hospital I want to know that you'll be taken care of."

One day when I came in after not stopping in for a week she came up to my table and lifted her top to show me that she'd had her navel pierced and was sporting what looked like a diamond stick pin. 

"You know Tiff, I have a barely controllable urge to kiss your belly." 

"I'd let you, but then you'd want to see the one farther down and if I let you see that one I'm afraid you would have a heart attack. I can't afford to lose any of my good tippers."

This kind of banter went on for months and then one day I came in to find that Tiff wasn't her usual cheery self.

"Got a problem Tiff?"

She slid into the booth across from me. "My asshole boyfriend just told me to move out. He said he was moving to Durango and was going to sell the house. Then he told me that when he got set up there he'd let me know and that I could join him. No talking about it at all. Just get out and I'll give you a call when I'm ready for you again."

"You going to be all right?"

"Yeah, I guess. I can stay with my girl friend for a while until I can find a place."

Then she got up and went back to work.

++++++++++++++

From then on every time I'd see her I'd ask how it was going and I'd get an update. One Saturday while at breakfast with Lois I asked how she was doing and she said, "Okay, but my girlfriend aren't getting along all that well and I'm looking for another place to stay."

"I'd offer you the use of our spare bedroom, but I don't think Lois here would be too happy about it. It would piss her off to know I'd be chasing you around the house every chance I got."

I know what Lois was thinking when I said that. "Yeah, and when you caught her you could sit down and play checkers or something."

Lois might have been an unfaithful whore, but she did have a lot of good qualities and she found Tiffany a place to stay, at least for a little while. She had a friend who was going abroad for a month and who was looking for a reliable house sitter for while she was gone. Lois got Tiffany the deal. In retrospect I guess you could say that what finally happened Lois brought on herself because I doubt that it would have happened had Tiff not gotten the house sitting gig.

+++++++++++++++

Once Tiff started house sitting things began to happen. Her car started having problems and I offered to stop by after work and take a look at it. It had a hundred things wrong with it and every night I would stop by and do a little work on it. Tiff would ask me in for coffee when I was done for the evening and since she was rather casual in the way she dressed around the house I had ample opportunity to see her flat stomach, the long supple legs, and a hint of tit every once in a while. In short, she pretty much kept my dick hard.

In addition to her various piercings Tiffany also had several tattoos, two of which I could never see all of. One was down so low on her belly that I could only see the top third of it when she wore very low cut hip huggers. The other was on the inside of her left tit and I could only see about an inch of it sticking up above her bra or bikini top. I started joking with her about what I would have to do to see the entire tattoo. She would laugh and say, "Only my lover gets to see all."

Then the month was over, Lois's friend came back, I had Tiffany's car running and it was back to just seeing her at the restaurant.

++++++++++++++++++++

We kidded and flirted like crazy and some of the other regulars began to think that we had something going. One day one of them asked me how an old fart like me was managing to keep up with a young fox like Tiffany. It was only then that I realized that I wished I actually could.

Two days later Tiff slid into the booth across from me and told me that she had given two weeks notice.

"Dave called last night and said he was ready for me."

"Are you sure that you really want to do this? He screwed over you once; do you really want to move yourself three hundred miles so he can do it again? At least when he did it here you had some people you could fall back on."

She didn't say anything, just got up and went back to work. I saw her three more times before she was due to leave, but the kidding around and flirting were gone. I didn't realize what a hole her going was going to leave in me. On what was supposed to be her last day I stopped in to say goodbye, but she wasn't there. I'd brought a card wishing her good luck and I left it with one of the other waitresses in case she came in. It was still sitting next to the cash register two days later. I asked Becky if Tiff had not come in and she told me that Tiff would be back to work the following Monday.

"What happened?"

"You'll have to ask her."

++++++++++++++++

I changed my schedule the following Monday. I left the house two hours earlier so I could stop and have breakfast on my way to work. Tiff was there and when she came to take my order she handed me back my card.

"Thanks, it was sweet of you, but I can't use it."

"What happened?"

"I listened to you. When I got to Durango the first thing Dave said to me was, "It's about damned time you got here." His attitude sucked and then I remembered what you said about how he had screwed over me once and how could I be sure that he wouldn't do it again. It took me three minutes to tell him I'd only made the trip so I could tell him goodbye in person and now here I am."

"What are you going to do now?"

"I'm staying with my Uncle Ralph until I can find a place."

"If I can help let me know."

She reached down and touched my cheek with her hand and said, "You're sweet Mike. Thank you; I'll keep it in mind."

It was two days before I saw her again and asked her how her search for a place was going.

"Not good, but I need to find something quick."

"Things not going well at your uncle's?"

"I'm not comfortable there. I don't know why, but I feel that I have to lock the bedroom door when I'm there."

+++++++++++++

That night when I got off work I went to see a friend of mine who managed some apartments. I found out that he had a couple of vacancies and I told him that I wanted one of them. I had to work hard to convince him that I wasn't setting up a little love nest and I don't think I managed to do it because all he said was, "Okay Mike, whatever you say."

"I'm serious Dave. She's just a good kid that I've taken a liking to and I'm just trying to help her out. She can afford the rent, but there isn't any way that she could put down the last month's rent and security deposit. I'll put those up. When I send her over here just rent her the place and don't tell her about that, okay?"

"Sure Mike, whatever you say" he said with a grin that fairly screamed out, "You old stud."

"I'm serious Dave. Don't tell her what I've done; that will only complicate things."

Same grin, "Sure Mike, whatever you say. My lips are sealed."

+++++++++++++++

The next morning I left for work early and I stopped by the restaurant for breakfast. When Tiffany waited on me I told her that I had found her an apartment and I gave her the address and told her to ask for Dave. The next day Tiffany caught me coming in the door and she threw her arms around me and gave me a big hug.

"Thank you Mike. Thank you, thank you, thank you" and then she kissed me on the cheek. I was just a little embarrassed by it especially since the place was full of customers, but what really bothered me was the rock hard erection I got when she pressed her soft body into mine. I just hoped that she hadn't felt it.

The next day was Saturday and when Tiff came to wait on Lois and me I asked her if she'd found a new boyfriend yet.

"Not yet. There aren't that many guys out there willing to date a girl as tall as I am. I think it makes them feel insecure when they have to look up at me or when I look down at them."

Lois said, "You know Mike, I think Robbie would be perfect for her."

"Who is Robbie?" Tiff asked.

"Robbie is our son" Lois said. Actually he was my son from my first marriage, but he had been calling Lois mom since the day I married her.

"How old is he?"

"He's thirty-one dear, and he is six feet four so I don't think your height is going to bother him."

"He sounds perfect, but what's the catch?"

"Catch?"

"Yeah. Thirty-one and not married?"

"I don't know dear. He just tells us that he hasn't found the right one yet."

+++++++++++++

Monday at lunch Tiff slid into the booth across from me.

"Mike, can I get personal for a second?"

I shrugged and said for her to go ahead.

"You worked on my car and didn't ask for anything. You found me an apartment and now you are trying to fix me up with your son? What gives?"

I jokingly said, "What the hell Tiff, if I can't have you at least I can try to keep you in the family."

Her face changed and I couldn't read her expression. She reached over and touched my hand and in a low voice she said, "But you can have me Mike. I thought that you knew that" and she got up and left me sitting there stunned. I had never expected anything like that to happen. All I had done was be nice to a girl that I had taken a liking to. Sure, I had flirted with her and yes, it had gotten a little raunchy at times with some sexual overtones, but that was just a dirty old man having some fun and we all knew that, right?

I was numb when I went back to work. Numb, confused, and not just a little bit excited. I remembered how she had felt when she had hugged me and the erection I had gotten from holding her close. I remembered the thoughts I'd had when I saw her pierced navel and I remembered how I had reacted the day Fred asked me how and old fart like me was managing to keep a girl like Tiff happy.

For all of twenty seconds I thought about how wonderful it would be to be with Tiffany and then reality set in. Age alone was enough to drive a stake through that thought. She was a baby for Christ's sake. She was eight years younger than my son -- the son that Lois wanted to set Tiffany up with. It was impossible, it could never happen, but the thoughts had me so horny that I almost -- only almost -- went after Lois for sexual satisfaction.

+++++++++++

The next two days at lunch I was a little on the subdued side. No flirting, no how are you doing questions, just smiled and gave my order. On the third day Tiff slid into the booth across from me and handed me a piece of paper.

"What is it."

"Open it and read it."

I opened it and saw that it was blank except for the number 201 written in the middle of the paper.

"That is what you can consider as an engraved invitation to get your ass over to our apartment."

"Our apartment?"

"Mike, I'm young, but I am not a dumb bimbo. I know two other people who live in that apartment complex and I know all about first and last months rent and security deposits and since I didn't have to put them up that means that you did. That makes it our apartment. It is seven minutes from your parking place at work to a parking place at the apartments. You get off at four-thirty and if you are not at the door to our apartment by four forty-five don't bother to come in here to eat anymore because if you do I'll make your life miserable -- up to and including spitting in your food."

She got up and left. When she came back with my order she smiled and set it down in front of me and said, "Four forty-five" and then she went and waited on other customers.

++++++++++++++

Believe it or not I wrestled with the idea all afternoon. I wanted to go, but I knew that no good could come of it. In the end I decided that I should go, thank Tiff for thinking so highly of me and then explain why I needed to be heading on home. Surely I could make her understand that the almost thirty year age difference would doom us right from the start. I would do "The Right Thing" and then find some place else to have breakfast and lunch.

My resolve to do the right thing disappeared when Tiff answered my knock. She was wearing a cut off T-shirt that let me see the lower half of her breasts and the tightest pair of cut off Levi's shorts that I had ever seen. She stepped aside and let me in and as she closed the door behind me I turned to her and opened my mouth to speak, but she put a finger up to my lips.

"Shush up Mike. I know what you are going to say and I have no intention of listening to it. I don't care about the age difference and I don't care that you are married. I want you and I'm pretty sure that you want me. That's all we need for right now. You don't have to say a word and in fact, I would just as soon you didn't. You once told me that you wanted to kiss my belly and I think that would be a great place for you to start. Where you go from there is up to you." 

It was an evening that most men can only dream about. If it could be done between a man and a woman Tiffany and I did it. Some of her youth must have been transferred into me because she was able to take me longer and farther than I had gone in years. When I reached the point where I knew that I just couldn't go on Tiff would give me a wicked little smile, work some magic and we would be off running again.

But finally even Tiffany's magic wouldn't work any more. She was still trying, but to no avail. While trying she asked me what time I had to be home.

"When I get there."

"Won't Lois wonder if you stay out late?"

"She probably will, but I'm not going to worry about it."

"I'm not trying to break up your marriage Mike."

"You can't hurt it Tiff. It doesn't exist except maybe in Lois's mind."

"I don't understand?"

So I explained to Tiffany what had happened and how I had decided to handle it."

"I'd never have believed that looking at the two of you. She loves you; that much is obvious. I can tell from the way that she looks at you."

"I don't know. Maybe she does in her own way, but my definition of love doesn't include a strange man in my bed."

"Well, she does love you. Women can tell about things like that. Why she did what she did I don't know, but trust me on this Mike, she does love you."

"It really doesn't matter to me any more Tiff. Right now the only thing that is important is that you know that nothing that you and I do can hurt my marriage. But that does bring us to just what it is that you expected out of this."

"As much as I can get lover, and for as long as I can get it. I'm not stupid. I know that the age difference is a killer. We won't like the same music, read the same books or like the same TV shows. All my friends will think I'm crazy for wasting my time with an old geek like you and all of your friends will laugh at you for trying to go back and regain your youth by banging a young bimbo. We just have to take what we can get when we can get it. If we can make it last for years and years good for us. If we can't, well, at least we had a good time and no regrets. Will that work for you?"




Tiffany



"Since it is the best offer on the table I guess I'll just have to take it won't I?"

"There is one more thing baby; will it bother you that I'm married?"

The confusion on my face must have been evident because she went on, "Dave is really my husband. I don't wear my rings and I called him my boyfriend because I got better tips as long as the guys thought that they might have a chance. I'm not going back to him, but I'm not going to waste money on a divorce lawyer either. If there is a divorce Dave can pay for it."

I had to smile at that. "Well Tiffany, if you can put up with my being married, I guess that I can accept the fact that you are."

++++++++++++

I had learned some harsh lessons from my first divorce and while I had no intention of wasting money on lawyers to get a divorce from Lois I had no idea of what she might do when I moved out and went to live with Tiffany. For the next two weeks I spent my evenings after work with Tiff and then went home to Lois, but during the day I quietly closed out CDs and withdrew money from savings. My 401k at work had a provision that allowed me to borrow against it up to fifty percent and so I did. When I felt that I had protected myself financially as best I could I went home and dropped the bomb on Lois.

"You are what?"

"I'm moving out."

"That's it? You just walk in the door and tell me that you are moving out?"

"That pretty much sums it up."

"After all these years and I don't even get an explanation?"

"I've found someone else Lois, someone I'd rather be with than you."

"You would rather be with than me? For God's sake Mike, why? How can you take our marriage and just toss it away? I thought you loved me?"

"At one time I did Lois. At one time you were my life, but then you stopped loving me and that killed something inside me and now I'm moving on."

"What are you saying? I've never stopped loving you Mike. I love you as much now, if not more, as I did the day I married you."

"Then you must not have loved me all that much on that day Lois, or you would never have done what you did to me."

"Mike, you're being stupid. I don't know what it is that you think I've done to you, but I've never stopped loving you. I don't care who it is that you think is so special, but she can never love you the way I do."

"She already has Lois."

"Come on Mike, think it through. You think that you have something with this woman, but how long can it last when she finds out that you can't perform sexually. It doesn't matter to me because I love you for who you are, not for what you can do."

"I perform for her quite well Lois, sometimes as many as three or four times a night."

"I don't understand. You haven't been able to make love to me in over two years."

"I've been able Lois, I just didn't want to."

"What are you saying Mike? You love me, I know you do."

"No I don't Lois. I did. I did right up to the day I came home from work at lunchtime and found you in our bed with another man. Your cries of, "Oh baby I can never get enough of your cock, give it to me, give it to me" drove a stake through the love I had for you. There was never anything wrong with my dick Lois; I just didn't want to touch you after that."

Lois turned pale when I said that. "You weren't supposed to know; you weren't ever supposed to know" she said in a low, weak voice. "It didn't mean a thing Mike. He means nothing to me. It was just sex baby, that's all it was. I just needed more than I was getting baby. Honest to God Mike, he means nothing to me. I love you honey, only you."

"Well, look on the bright side Lois. I'm out of here so you can move him in and fuck for twenty-four hours a day. That way you can get as much as you need."

The last thing I heard as I walked out the door was, "Don't do this to me Mike, I love you. Don't leave me Mike, honest to God I love you."

+++++++++++

I guess that maybe she did. She never filed for divorce and I get calls from her at work every week. She sent me a card on my birthday and signed it, "Waiting, love, Lois." I got one from her on Valentine's Day that was signed, "Yours forever. I love you and I'll wait for you for as long as it takes."

It didn't take long for her to find out about Tiffany and she stops at the restaurant every Saturday and Sunday and tells Tiff that she intends to get me back. If it is a slow day Tiff will sit down with her and they talk. Lois says she is going to get me back and Tiff tells her that she should never have let me get away and Lois says, "Hey, I made a big mistake, but I still love him."

+++++++++++++++

Despite the age difference Tiff and I seem to be making it work, but the relationship is still in its infancy so only time will tell, but for the moment I'm living every dirty old man's dream. I have a young, beautiful, and sexy nympho on my hands and I'm holding on for dear life.



Tiffany



The sound of the key turning in the lock interrupted her studying. Tiffany Banks looked up to see that she had been reading for 3 hours and stood and stretched her back. She heard the front door open and someone enter the house. "Hello, anybody home?" The voice of her landlord called up the stairs. The housing office had boarded her with this couple while in college. Joanna was 5 years older than Tiffany, and her husband Frank was only 7 years older. They had insisted that Tiffany call them by their first names on the first day. Mr. and Mrs. McFadden made them feel old, they said.

"Right here Frank." Tiffany called downstairs as she walked out of her room. She paused at the top of stairs and saw him standing alone at the bottom. "Where's Joanna?"

"She had to stay in the city." Frank replied. "Something came up at the plant and I have a meeting in the morning. So it looks like it is just you and me for a couple of days." 

"Neat." Tiffany replied sarcastically. She really did not really know this man and had not had a lot to do with him since she had moved in; "I've got to finish my homework." Tiffany turned to leave.

"Are you feeling all right? You're never parked in front of the books for more than 5 minutes at a time, and I've never heard the term homework from you. What gives?"

"Nothing, I just feel like putting in some time studying. Now if you'll excuse me." Tiffany walked away before he could respond. Tiffany closed her door and lay down on the bed and picked up where she left off.

An hour later, Tiffany had had enough. She had studied for four hours and was exhausted. She stood up and peeled off her tee shirt and shorts. Standing in front of the full-length mirror on the back of the bedroom door she carefully examined her reflection. Clad only in her thong panties, she stood on her toes and checked all sides of herself. She was pleased at the results. 

She stood 5' 2" and weighed only 111 lbs. Her red hair hung down to between her shoulder blades and shown and in the bedroom light, her eyes were emerald green. She could find no fault in her body, at a 32 B cup her breasts were perfect for her size, an 18" waist and 30" hips, every bikini she bought fit her like a second skin, and she made a point to buy the smallest and skimpiest suits available. She loved watching men drool over her at pools and the beach. Living near a beach was perfect for her, it gave her an enviable tan all year round, and the high fenced backyard with the above ground pool at home allowed her to sunbathe nude to prevent tan lines. Tiffany was about to turn out the light and go to bed when there was a knock on her door and Frank stuck his head in.

"I'm locking up, you need anything..." Frank stumbled to a halt seeing her mostly naked, on her toes and hands cupping her breasts.

"FRANK, GET OUT." Tiffany shrieked at him. Hastily pulling her nightshirt off the bed and holding it in front of her.

"Oh, ah, sorry, I thought you would be in bed already, it's after eleven." Frank coloured and looked at the floor, trying to get the image of her body out of his mind.

"Don't you know you are supposed to wait for an invitation before entering a lady's bedroom?"

"Sorry, I'm sorry all right. Good night." Frank closed the door and went directly to the en-suite bath for the master bedroom. The erection pounding in his shorts had to be relieved, or he would never sleep. The sight of her body had set him instantly on fire. Not even his wife did that to him.

Tiffany seethed at Frank's intrusion, but could not believe the feeling his seeing her nearly naked had caused in her. She had seen the lust in his eyes. Maybe she could put into practice some of the tricks she had learned from her abnormal psych course. The thought intrigued her. She went to bed and drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face and erotic visions of him whimpering at her feet while she whipped him.

Tiffany's alarm exploded on her bedside at seven the next morning. She silenced the noise and stretched before sitting up in bed. She had a class at ten that morning and nothing else for the day. 'I understand why people love Friday's', she thought with a giggle. She pulled on her running shorts, tee shirt and running shoes and went downstairs. The kitchen was spotless, except for a note on the counter.

"Tiff: Sorry about last night. You're right; I should have waited for your permission before coming into your room. Let's not mention this to Joanna, she would not understand. And it was just a simple mistake anyway. See you around five tonight, Joanna will be back on Sunday night or Monday morning. Frank."

Tiffany laughed out loud at the note, and decided to seduce Frank that night and blackmail him into being her slave. She thought the note would be good to use as evidence against him in the event he was reluctant. Tiffany stashed the note in her bedside table and went out for her morning run.

Five miles and thirty minutes later she was back and feeling flushed and exhilarated. Running was the best way to start her day, she thought while soaping herself in the shower. She paid close attention to her breasts and pussy. She noticed some small hairs were starting to grow back in around her snatch. She made a mental note to pick up more depilatory cream at the pharmacy today before she started on Frank. Class was the usual bore and Tiffany found her mind wandering. She immediately sat up and started to pay attention. She would have to keep her marks up if she were to keep getting her allowance. After class Tiffany sailed off campus on her bike and went to the hardware store in town. There she bought a few things she felt would be useful that night with Frank. She also stopped at the pharmacy to pick up her cosmetics and creams.

Tiffany hurried home and fixed a light dinner for both her and Frank before showering and dressing for the night ahead. She chose a tight fitting black dress with a deep V in the neck and slit up both sides and no underwear. Her black leather shoes with the five-inch heels were barely visible at the hem of her dress. She brushed her red hair until it shone and put on a slight touch of makeup. She was just finishing making cocktails when she heard Frank's car pull into the driveway.

She walked to the door and opened it before he could reach the handle. "Hi handsome," she cooed, "Hard day at the office?" Tiffany pulled him into the house and closed and locked the door before he could respond. Frank stood in the hall and stared at her.

"What's happening around here? You never have a civil word for me and now you are sweet and nice. What gives?"

"Nothing, Joanna's away and I thought you would appreciate a welcome home just as if she were here." Tiffany replied before leaning up to give him a peck on the cheek. "Come and have a drink before dinner. It will only take another few minutes before it is ready." Tiffany led him into the living room and handed him his drink. The fire was roaring in the gas fireplace, but Tiffany had turned the air conditioning up so the room was still comfortable.

Frank was at a loss; he did not know what was happening. Yesterday she would not even look at him and today she was draped all over him. "I don't believe you. You must have something in mind."

"I just want to make you feel at home."

"And...." Frank stood waiting.

"And ... I guess I wanted to apologize for last night. I think I overreacted. I mean, it's not like you planned it, is it?" Tiffany asked with a straight face.

"No it was just an accident. Let's just forget it." Frank said with a smile and a sigh of relief.

"I don't know if I will be able to forget the look on your face." Tiffany replied with a giggle. "I think you were more embarrassed than I was."

"I guess you're right." Frank answered with a chuckle, having a sip of his drink.

"Come on and eat." Tiffany pulled at his hand and led him into the dining room. The table was set for two, with candles and good china. She sat Frank at the head of the table and fetched dinner. It was a light meal of chicken salad. They made small talk while they ate. Both were conscious of the sexual undertone in the room. Tiffany was certain she would have her way with Frank. The lingering looks that he gave her through dinner and the way he looked down her dress when she bent over the table to serve were all too obvious. The drape of her dress told him that she was naked beneath it, and he could hear her heels click when she walked. 

Tiffany cleared the table after dinner and put on the dishwasher. When she was loading the dishwasher, she glanced over her shoulder and caught Frank devouring the sight of her. Her dress was pulled tight over her ass, and the slit showed her legs and the curve of her butt. 

Tiffany pulled Frank away from the table and led him back into the living room when she was finished. Tiffany dimmed the lights; the fireplace gave the room a soft romantic glow. She sat him down on the couch, freshened up his drink and sat down on the floor at his feet. "Feel better?"

"Yeah, but this is all a little overwhelming. I am not used to being waited on hand and foot."

"Do you like it?" Tiffany asked.

"Yes, who wouldn't?" Frank replied as he stared down her top. The curve of her breasts and the nearness of her body were driving him wild.

Tiffany followed his gaze and saw that he was looking down her dress and she smiled up at him slowly and seductively. She reached up and squeezed his hard on through his pants and said, "Like what you see?"

Frank reacted as though she had touched him with a live wire. "I don't think you should be doing that."

"Doing what?" She asked innocently as she rubbed his cock. Without letting go she twisted around to kneel between his open legs so that she could bring both hands in play.

"What you are doing with your hands." Frank stammered.

"And what's that?" Tiffany teased, as she pulled down his zipper and fished inside his shorts.

Frank was in shock as the girl kneeling before him released his throbbing rod. Her hands stroked his hard on, both hands developing a rhythm, squeezing at the top of the stroke and pulling his balls at the bottom. "Do you like that Frank?" Tiffany teased.

"Yesssss," he hissed Frank had his head back and his eyes closed. "But we can't do this."

"Do what?" Tiffany asked as she paused in her motions to slip the straps of her dress off her shoulders.

Tiffany grabbed his cock and squeezed to see what his reaction would be. Frank jerked but made no other move. Tiffany was encouraged by his response and began to tighten her grip even more at the top and bottom of each stroke. Frank ground his ass into the couch and let her do what she wanted. "What happens when Joanna finds out about this?"

"Who is going to tell her Frank? I won't say anything, provided you do what I say." Tiffany replied as she ovaled her lips and kissed the head of his cock.

"What do you mean, 'do what you say'?" Frank asked in a quiet voice.

"Just what I said," Tiffany said as she nipped the head of his cock with her teeth and tickled his balls with her bright red sharp nails. Tiffany could feel the pressure build up in his balls, crying for release. If she could make him come, she could control him. She rose up higher on her knees and put his cock between her breasts, sliding it up and down, licking the head each time it appeared between her tits. Frank was rocking his head side to side, his eyes squeezed tight and his breathing erratic. 

"Will you do what I say?" Tiffany questioned as she squeezed his balls again.

"Yes, anything, anything at all if you let me come." Frank answered.

He started pushing up and down between her breasts. She held her head steady and opened her mouth to let him fuck it, her saliva slid down his cock and made the passage between her breasts easier. His bucking got faster and his breathing more erratic, suddenly, his come shot out of the head of his cock in a long stream. Tiffany covered the pulsing knob and swallowed the load of cum given to her. Frank jerked and bounced on the couch as Tiffany took his cock deep in her throat. She suctioned her cheeks in as she swallowed his load and Frank grabbed the back of her head and forced all of his cock into her throat. Tiffany relaxed and took his cock deep as it spasmed and shot its load. Four more times his dick pulsed and rewarded her with his cream. Some of his sperm drooled out of her mouth and down her chin, landing between her breasts and running on to her dress. Tiffany pulled back and licked the head of his cock as he finished spurting. Frank lay back breathing heavily as he tried to regain his composure. Tiffany's licking kept him hard and her hand squeezing his nuts could feel a new load of cum being created. 

"I'm glad we could come to an understanding." Tiffany said after she swallowed his load. "Now stand up and strip." Tiffany told him quietly but forcefully.

"I think we should call it a night Tiffany." Frank responded.

"You said you would do whatever I said. I don't want to have to tell Joanna, and this stain on my dress will certainly help her see that we have been doing things we shouldn't." Tiffany pulled up the bodice of her dress to show a mark that could only be his cum and they both knew it. "Now stand up and strip." Tiffany told him with still more force as she squeezed his balls sharply. Frank winced in pain and drew a breath but stood obeyed.

He undressed quickly and soon stood naked and magnificent before her, his hard-on thrusting up tight to his rock hard belly. To Tiffany he looked a little frightened and more than a little submissive and she knew that she had him. 

Regally she raised a hand; Frank grasped it gently and helped her to her feet. "You may undress me now." Tiffany told him.

Frank reached out and started to pull her dress down over her hips when Tiffany stopped him. "If you do it that way it won't fit. You have to gather the hem and take it off over my head." Frank kneeled down with a sigh and started to gather the hem of her dress. He took so long about it that Tiffany lost her patience. "Can't you do anything right? You just stay put and I'll do it myself." Frank leaned back out of the way and Tiffany bent at the waist and quickly pulled the dress up and off. She threw it on the couch with his clothes and stood naked but for her heels before the man on his knees. 

'This is how it should be.' Tiffany thought, 'Naked and glorious with a man kneeling before me.' She leaned down to cup his chin and stroked his face with her palm. "Now while you're down there, you may begin to worship me. You can start with licking my shoes clean. If you do a good job, I might let you do other things to me, but you have to earn it." 

"Now wait just..." Frank started to reply.

"You just do as I say Frank," Tiffany interrupted, "or Joanna will find out how you seduced me the first chance you got. I think they still send people to jail for rape, don't they?" 

Frank paled at her statement and said, "You wouldn't." Then he saw the look in her eyes and he knew differently. Tiffany let go of his chin and smiled an evil smile at him. Frank leaned down and started to lick the toecap of her shoes. 

Tiffany flushed at how easily he gave in. She had no intention of telling Joanna anything, yet, but Frank did not need to know that. The more she could make him do now, the deeper he got himself into her trap, the more she could get away with later. Tiffany looked down on the smooth back of the man licking her shoes and smiled at the thought of beating him. The image of him whimpering at her feet as she whipped him was enough to send a current to her cunt and almost make her come. The scent of her juices filled the room as it trickled down her thighs.

Frank was really getting into what he was doing, she could hear him slobbering over her feet and see his erection dripping onto the carpet. Tiffany lifted her foot, put the toe of her shoe under his chin and lifted; his eyes came up to meet hers. "You do that very well, Slave. Now come over here and let's see how well you fulfill the rest of your duties." Tiffany turned and walked to the coffee table and sat down. Frank started to get up but a warning look from Tiffany sent him back to his knees. He crawled forward and was soon at her feet again. She spread her legs and he could see her bald little centre as well as smell the fragrance it was sending out. She was just as turned on as he was. He had never told anyone about his dream of being abused by a beautiful woman, but now it was happening to him anyway. 

Tiffany slid farther back on the coffee table and left a wet trail glistening in the firelight. She looked at Frank expectantly and he leaned forward to lick it up. The taste was exquisite and Frank licked hard to ensure that he got it all. Tiffany kept moving back until Frank's waist hit the edge of the coffee table. He groaned as his cock brushed against the unfinished underside of the table. He was reaching forward to grab her hips and pull her to his waiting mouth when the riding crop struck his back. Frank froze and looked up questioningly at her.

'Did I say you could touch me?" Tiffany demanded. "Obviously you need a lesson in how to maintain control of yourself." With that Tiffany dropped the crop and pulled out a set of handcuffs from nowhere and locked them on his wrists so quickly that Frank had no time to move. The cuffs had a thin rope attached to them that went to the coffee table legs at the other end. The line was slack, but Tiffany slipped out from under the line and quickly tightened it.

Frank struggled against the line but could not get free. "Tiffany what do you think you are doing? Let me go right now damn it." He demanded. 

"Such language," Tiffany said with mock innocence. "I see that we will have to silence you as well." Tiffany went over to the couch and pulled out a pair of her panties from between the cushions. "I wore these while jogging this morning, enjoy." Frank started to say something when she shoved them into his mouth, effectively silencing him. Tiffany then took more of the thin rope and tied his legs to the legs of the table. Finally she took some cord and tied it around the base of his cock and balls to keep him from coming. She tickled his scrotum and stood to look down on him, all trussed up, completely helpless at her rather questionable mercy.

"You see slave; I've had all day to prepare for this. The panties in the sofa, the handcuffs, rope and riding crop taped to the underside of the coffee table. It is amazing what hardware stores carry these days. The riding crop was a gift from my father when I took riding lessons. My horse always worked better after a few stings, and I think you will do the same."

Frank groaned through his panty gag and sucked her juices out of it. This was even more than he had dreamed of, but now that it was actually happening, it seemed a little overwhelming. The crop whistled through the air and struck his butt cheeks. She only tapped him on the ass, but Frank groaned and tried to move, but it was no good, the girl knew her knots too well. The crop continued to sting his ass as he struggled, but every time he moved, his cock rubbed against the rough underside of the table, increasing his agony. His ass cheeks grew flaming red as the whipping continued and she increased the force she struck him with, causing his cock got harder and dripped continually. She worked her way up and down his back, reddening every part of him that was available to her.

Tiffany stopped beating him and sat on his warm back. Her pussy, flooded with her juices, squished as she made contact. Frank could feel the wetness on her thighs as she rubbed back and forth for a second before leaning over and squeezing his balls and shaft sharply. "Now don't you dare come until I tell you too." Tiffany sat up and then leaned back till she was laying on him. She took the riding crop and worked the handle into her dripping snatch. Driving it in and out, she came sharply and coated the handle with her juices. Pulling it out she sat up, licked two fingers and started to wet his anus, before pushing them inside. Frank jerked and almost threw her to the floor before her open palm came down sharply on his ass. "Hold still." She barked and Frank's movements paused for a moment, just long enough for her to drive the handle of the riding crop, still wet with her come, up his ass. Frank's head came up and he howled in pain. Tiffany drove it in and out for a few thrusts and then left it sticking out of his ass like a flagpole.




Tiffany



"Do you like that up your ass slave?" Tiffany questioned. Frank shook his head no as he groaned through the gag. Tiffany stood and walked down to his ass and flicked the riding crop causing it to move in his butt and Frank groaned again. Tiffany got down on her knees behind him and said, "I did not know that you would enjoy this that much Frank. I can tell by the puddle your cock is leaving on the carpet." Tiffany grasped his balls and squeezed sharply as she grabbed the riding crop and worked it in and out of his ass in time with her squeezing his cock. She pulled the crop out of his ass slowly and stood up. "If I untie you will you behave yourself?"

Frank's head nodded in submission. Tiffany untied the cords holding his legs and then walked to the head of the table and untied the cord securing the handcuffs. Frank remained motionless on the table waiting for her command. "I see you have learned well. You may rise now, slave" Tiffany told him in an imperious voice.

Frank rose slowly and stood before her, head hanging and hands still cuffed in front of him. The end of the rope attached to his scrotum hung down giving Tiffany a leash to lead him around by. Tiffany bent and grabbed it and stood, pulling him up short and smiling as Frank winced into his gag. "This is to show you who is in charge. You will follow my every command. Do you understand?" Tiffany demanded as she pulled the gag from his mouth.

"Yes." He replied humbly.

The riding crop flashed as it came down on his hard cock, and he screamed in agony, Tiffany smiled as it bobbed up and down. "That is 'Yes Mistress' to you slave."

"Yes Mistress."

"Better, from now on you will only address me as Mistress, is that clear?"

"Yes Mistress."

"That is a good little slave, now lock up down here, and be quick about it; I still have several duties for you to perform tonight." Tiffany said. Frank hurried off to turn off the lights and set the alarm. When he finished he returned to the living room, picked up his clothes and her dress and stood before her with his head bowed. Tiffany nodded approvingly and grabbed his cock leash and pulled him to the stairs. She had left just enough line to pull it over her shoulder and have him walk almost normally. Every so often, she would give it a sharp tug to hear him groan. The riding crop dangled from her other hand as she climbed the stairs, her hips swaying seductively right before his eyes. 



Tiffany...



Tiffany was a good girl 21. F cup tits. Still a virgin. And wasn't that smart. She didn't no what to wear that much. So she went to work in pink bra's and panties. And guys stared at her. She sleeps naked. Loves to sleep. And loves to walk during midnight. One night she was looking for her friend in a ally. She was wearing a silk bra, and silk panties. It was cold and her nipples got hard. In the ally she could barely see. And she heard a noise coming from deeper in the ally. She walked closer in, and heard a noise coming from deeper in, she went in and couldn't see anymore. She couldn't see where she came from. There was a slither behind her, but she was to distracted looking around. Then she felt something slimy rubbing her panties. She started to turn and sees nothing. She looks down and sees purple pulsing tentacles looking at her, she backed and then they grabbed her arms and legs and pulled her in the air. 

She was scared to look. but she felt one pop off her bra and felt two slimy tentacles squeeze her tits, they rubbed her nipples, and then two more came and started sucking them. Two squeezes. And two sucked. Tiffany moaned, and felt something take her panties off. Tiffany tried to pull her legs to each-other and the more the tentacles sucked the weaker she got. Her legs got weak and the tentacles could of pulled her legs away easily enough but they wanted to show her she was pathetic and weak. One tentacle choked her, and then she felt something rub her pussy.

Tiffany screamed "No not there please stop let me go"

One small tentacle sucked her clitoris, making her pussy a bit wet. Then one tentacle pounded deep her her virgin pussy. She screamed and made the tentacles grow stronger. She started crying of the pain cause she was barely wet. The more she cried the harder they fucked her. 

Tiffany started thinking to herself " I thought these things were fake, I thought they weren't real" She's never seen tentacle porn. But they were real.

One went in her ass and Tiffany felt her pussy bleeding. And she wanted to die cause of how hard they raped her, they came inside her virgin pussy. And they dropped her to the ground.

She thought to her self "Its over"...

But it wasn't. They made noises.. And then a portal opened up. Showing the hugest tentacle shes seen. It was 10 times bigger "Fatter" it looked straight at her pussy and started digging in, blood stared coming out again, and she cried and screamed until one went in her mouth. Then it started fucking her tearing her apart. It fucked her for a few minutes. Then it came inside her killing her. 

She wakes up in a strange place. laying on the ground feeling weak. Then she felt her tits throbbing, and felt them grow 2X bigger. She got up looked at her self and saw she was wearing a red shirt ripped up all to the point to where some of her breast was hanging out, and she looked down more and saw a ripped up red skirt ripped up to the point to where some of her pussy was showing. She looked and saw she had her perfect body back too. 

She looked and saw a few signs saying: Welcome to Fuck Hell. Another sign said: Obliviously you've been fucked by a boss tentacle and came in you and you died. Another sign said: You have a hole new virginity back. To the point to where you were never raped and fucked by anything in your life. You can get out of here but it will take along time. Another sign said: Here are some of the creatures that will try to rape you: Blue tentacles, Red tentacles, Green tentacles, blue half see through blobs, ghosts, dogs, gas, strong ghosts, ogres. And some new ones. In small letters she didn't see was "If they get you they'll never stop so you'll have to struggle to get free" Another sign said there are portals at the end of the hall ways, Go through them and you'll appear in a twice as long hall way. There are 4 in total.

I WILL MAKE A SEQUEL SOON!



Tiffany, A Story of Life



Tiffany looked at herself in the mirror, her brown eyes looking back at her said "You are hopeless." She giggled, and combed her long light brown hair; it was down to just below her shoulders. Just the way she liked it. She turned sideways and looked at her profile, frowning at her a-cup breasts that had never filled out enough to suit her. She would have been happier with something bigger. She sighed; at least Dallas said he liked them just the way they were. 

Tiffany paused to think about her boyfriend. She considered herself pretty tall at five foot nine, but when he looked down at her from his six foot two inches, with his deep blue eyes and his blonde hair swept to once side, she had to almost look straight up to see him. 

Tiffany knew Dallas was coming to pick her up any minute, so she finished straightening her red t-shirt and smoothed her black mini skirt. She always loved the way the boys looked at her legs, when she wore it. Today she was feeling liberal and was not wearing any panties. It was something that, later on would make this day even more memorable.

"Tiffany, Tiffany." She heard called up from the ground floor. She was sharing a house with some other girls, from the college. 

Susan came hopping up the stairs and said "Hey, Wow! Tiff, you look great. Dallas is here."

"Tell him I will be down in five minutes." Tiffany told her.

"Ok, but don't take too long, I will take that dream boat off your hands." Susan teased.

"Like you would have a chance, you little tramp." Tiffany said "Now scoot, I need to powder my nose."

With that, Susan went back downstairs and Tiffany went into the bathroom to take care of her bladder, "No need to be dribbling anything, when I don't have any panties on." She told herself.

Dallas and Tiffany were dining that evening, in the finest restaurant in town. They heard the murmur of the people sitting at the tables around them. There was the clink of silverware and laughing here and there. Waiters were moving from table to table, checking to see if anyone needed anything, taking orders and bringing trays of food and beverages. Each table had a red candle in the center, and there was a pianist in one corner, playing popular songs.

The view from the window was west over a harbor, and they looked out and saw ships and boats sailing. The sun was setting red, and the glow of it enhanced the flickering of the candles casting shadows over the room.

Dallas got out of his seat, took Tiffany's hands in his own hands, and knelt on the carpet in front of her, looking straight into her eyes. The glow of the sun reflecting off her face made her look like an angel. Dallas' breath caught in his throat.

After a moment Dallas said "Tiffany, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

Tiffany, who had feeling Dallas was going to propose to her, smiled and said "Yes, yes I will."

Dallas stood up, pulled Tiffany into his arms, kissed her deeply and ran one hand down her back.

There were people at the nearest tables who had heard the exchange. Some clapped their hands, and some held up their drinks in salute to the young couple. 

"Baby," Dallas said pulling back, "I forgot one thing."

"What is that?" She asked.

In answer, Dallas reached in his pocket and pulled out a small box. He opened it, to reveal a beautiful diamond ring.

Tiffany exclaimed "Oh! Dallas, it's the one we saw in the jewelry store last week. Quick, put it on me."

Dallas gently put the ring in Tiffany's finger, and Tiffany kissed him again.

Dallas saw their waiter bring some drinks to the next table and said to him "We are ready to pay our bill."

The waiter walked over, Dallas paid for their meal, and gave a generous tip.

Dallas and Tiffany left the restaurant, and walked to his car. It was a four door 1977 Caprice Classic. The car was light green with a white vinyl top, and a light green interior. 

Dallas had bought the car in his senior year of high school, and it was showing its age of seventeen years. 

There was a small dent on the front of the left fender, where the former owner had hit the side of a garage door. And, there was a rip on the driver's side of the front seat. When Dallas first got the car the passenger door lock was froze, so he had bought some new locks and changed them. And the only grill it had was the two pieces in the front bumper. The main part of the grill had been knocked out, when Dallas had gone in the ditch one winter.

He had been on a road that was covered in ice. Being careful, Dallas was driving twenty-five miles per hour. He decided to move the car to the center of the road, after going around a curve. The road was straight ahead, and he could see there was nothing coming. But, just when he turned the steering wheel to the left, there was a dip in the road. The car started fishtailing, and there was nothing he could do. The car ended up going nose first into the ditch.

Dallas unlocked the front passenger door, and opened it for Tiffany. She got in, and he closed the door behind her. As Dallas was walking around the front of the car, Tiffany slid over to the middle of the seat, to unlock the other front door for Dallas.

Dallas got in, put the key in the ignition, turned to Tiffany and she leaned in his arms, content. Dallas pulled his seatbelt on over his shoulder, and Tiffany pulled her's on over her lap. Tiffany leaned on Dallas. He started the car, put it in gear, wrapped his right arm around Tiffany and drove to the apartment; he shared with his twin brother Dale. 

Dallas parked on the street in front of the building. It was an upstairs apartment and the outside door opened onto the sidewalk. Inside that door there was a light switch on the right. Dallas flipped it on and they walked up the stairs, Tiffany first.

That was when Dallas saw up Tiffany's mini skirt, and his eyes took in the beauty of her naked pussy for the first time. As Tiffany reached the top of the stairs, Dallas reached past her and unlocked the door.

Dallas walked past Tiffany, as he opened the door. As they walked into the living room, Dallas looked around, to make see if Dale was there. Dallas had asked Dale not to be there that night. If Dallas had his way, Tiffany would never meet Dale. Dale was a user of women. It didn't matter if Tiffany was Dallas' girl or not, Dale would have hit on her as soon as he had a chance. Dale was nowhere to be seen. 

Dallas hugged Tiffany and said "You can sit on the couch if you want, I need to check something. I will be right back."

Tiffany said "Ok, but don't take too long." And, she smacked him on the butt as he walked away.

Dallas wanted to check the rest of the apartment; just to be sure Dale really wasn't there. Dallas turned right and walked west across the twenty by twenty five foot room, to the bathroom. Dale was not in the bathroom. Dallas turned to the south and looked into the kitchen. The kitchen was completely open to the living room, and looked more like an after thought. The kitchen was very small, and Dallas could see, Dale was not in there.

Dallas started walking towards the kitchen, stopped about halfway to it, at the door to Dale's room. The door was open. Dallas looked in, and saw Dale was not there.

Dallas turned back and walked east to the door of his room, which was across from the front door. He opened the door, went in and turned on some music. Dallas took off his shoes and went back to Tiffany.

Tiffany looked at him, cocked her head to one side and asked "Did you lose something?"

Dallas said "No, Baby, just making sure we are alone." Dallas pulled Tiffany into his arms. He moved his right hand up her back and held the back of her head, as they kissed.

Tiffany had her left hand on his chest and her right on his shoulder. As she pressed her body against him, raising her right leg up his left leg, she felt his hardening cock.

Dallas slid his left hand down to Tiffany's butt, pulling up her mini skirt and squeezed her naked ass. Tiffany rubbed her body up and down a little, feeling his cock push out more in his tight jeans. 

Dallas pulled away from their kiss and said "I want you."

Tiffany responded "I am yours. Take me."

Dallas picked up all 125 pounds of Tiffany with ease, and carried her into his bedroom. He laid her gently on his bed. Dallas removed his shirt and lay down next to her. With his hand sliding up her thigh, brushing her skin, Dallas proceeded to consummate their relationship. Being from a religious background, Dallas had wanted to wait until they were married. He justified it in his mind, by telling himself that they were going to be married, so there was nothing wrong with it. They had both lost their virginity before that night. Even though Dallas wanted to be true to his religion, he was, after all, only human. Tiffany was more sexually experienced than Dallas, but she had not told him of the girls she had played with. Tiffany knew he would not have approved of her being bi-sexual.

Dallas had only been with one girl before. In fact he had asked her to marry him. But, Dale had seduced the girl. It was too much for Dallas, and he had broken up with her. Dallas had not told Dale about Tiffany, he was not going to let his brother soil her.

The music was flowing over them, fueling their desire. It was a slow love song, from a band that was big in the seventies.

Dallas slid his hand up Tiffany's shirt exposing her soft breasts. He took his time, taking each of her breasts into his mouth and licked her tiny nipples with his tongue. Tiffany moved her chest up as he sucked, trying to get him to take more into his mouth. She slid her fingers through his hair, stroking his head and pulling it into her chest, rubbing her nipples on his face.

Dallas responded by biting her nipples gently, taking them in his teeth, and pulling them, before licking the slight wounds. Tiffany moaned, and Dallas sucked harder. He slid his hand down her body, and pulled her left leg to the side. She raised her hips, rubbing against him. 

Tiffany said "I want to suck you."

Dallas rolled onto his back, and Tiffany moved her hand down to unleash the cock that would be hers for many years. She stroked the head of his nine inch cock, feeling his pre cum and sliding it down his shaft. She stroked his cock.

Dallas groaned. And, Tiffany sucked harder, pulling his cock to the back of her throat. Dallas sat up, pulled her shirt off, and she slid her hands around his hips, as she bobbed her head up and down his shaft.

Tiffany pulled her head up and slid her hands down Dallas' legs, pulling his pants, shorts and socks off.

When her man was naked Tiffany moved back to his cock and sucked it deep again. She stroked his cock with her right hand, moved her head up and flicked the tip of it with her tongue, bringing a moan from his lips. She teased his balls with her other hand, and squeezed them slightly. She took his cock deep in her mouth, and slid her hand up and down it. She could feel his cock throbbing, and she moved faster, bringing him close to orgasm. She closed both hands on his shaft, as she moved her head.

Dallas could not have held it back if he had wanted to. His cum hit the back of Tiffany's throat, she swallowed, and another stream of cum shot out, oozing past his cock dripping down her chin. Tiffany opened her throat to swallow; as Dallas shot his last stream. His cum slid down her throat, into her stomach. 

Tiffany pulled her mouth off of Dallas' cock, held her right hand to her chin and slid his cum into her mouth. She swallowed again, and Dallas pulled her up in his arms, and kissed her deeply. As they kissed, he laid her on the bed and moved his 200 pound body over her. 

Dallas rubbed his cock on her legs till it was hard again, took it in his right hand, and rubbed the head of it up and down her pussy lips, spreading them with the head of it. He spread her wet pussy lips as he pushed into her. 

Tiffany raised her hips to meet his thrusts. She took his cock into her pussy, again and again. Dallas felt the walls of her pussy tightening on his cock, as the head of it pressed against her cervix, bringing a moan from her lips.

As Dallas pulled back, he felt the suction of her pussy on his cock. He pulled back until the head of his cock was just inside her pussy lips, and thrust into her again. He pulled back and they started moving together. 

Their sweat mingled between them, as Tiffany's breasts rubbed on Dallas' chest. He thrust faster and harder, as her pussy took his cock in and out. They kissed.

Dallas sucked Tiffany's neck as they made love, and Tiffany slipped her fingers through his hair. As his shaft went into her, it pulled her pussy lips in with it, pulling her clit down a little, just enough for her to feel his shaft on her clit. She bucked under him as she came, her pussy juices flowing over his cock. He fucked her faster, building up to his own orgasm. 

Tiffany wrapped her legs around Dallas and pulled him into her harder. Dallas groaned and shot his cum into her pussy, filling her until his cum flowed out around his cock with her juices. 

Dallas shot another stream of cum into Tiffany, and she pulled him tight into her arms.

Dallas pulled his cock out, and lay beside Tiffany, holding her. 

Dallas said "I love you."

Tiffany said "I love you too."

They kissed and drifted off to sleep together.

They were married the next spring, and a year after that they had the cutest baby girl you ever did see. They named her Tina.

It had been a hard pregnancy for Tiffany and because of the complications; she would never have another child. They loved their daughter, but there was something missing. Tiffany felt like she was not good enough for Dallas, because of her inability to have another child. She knew he wanted a son, but she could not give him one.

Tiffany would ask him over and over again "Are you happy with me?"

Dallas always would tell her "Baby, you are the only girl for me."

But, Tiffany was not satisfied. There were times Dallas would stay out late after work. It caused Tiffany to have suspicions; she just knew that he was out fucking another woman. She didn't know what to do. She didn't want to lose her marriage, but if that rat fuck was going to be out fucking other women, she would have to leave him. And, he better damn well, not even hope to see Tina.

One day Dallas came home late, and all hell broke loose.

Dallas walked in the front door of their house.

"Just, where the hell have you been?" Tiffany stormed.

"I was out..." Dallas started.

"No Shit! You were out! You lousy Bastard!"

"What is her name? What is the Cunt's name?" Tiffany demanded.

"Baby." Dallas said gently.

"Don't you, Baby, me! Tiffany shot back.

"I want to know who you have been fucking, before I throw your cheating ass out of here." Tiffany seethed.

Dallas pulled some papers out and handed them to Tiffany.

"What are these?" She asked.

"Read them." He said.

"Petition to adopt..." Tiffany stopped.

Dallas walked forward, pulled Tiffany into his arms, held her close and said "All you have to do is sign these."

He continued "I have been meeting with the adoption service after work all this time. I wanted it to be a surprise, but I didn't know what it was doing to you." 

Tiffany pulled out of his arms and ran into the bathroom, crying.

Tina came walking out of another room, looked at her daddy and asked "Mommy mad?"

Dallas picked up his little girl and told her "Mommy, just sad, but I will make it better."

Tina hugged her daddy.

That night after Tina was sleeping, Dallas went Tiffany. She was in the living room, sitting on the couch, looking at the adoption papers. He could see how red her eyes were from crying.

Dallas asked "Baby, can I sit with you?"

Tiffany looked at him and said "Yes." 

Dallas sat down on her left and took her hand in his. He pulled it gently to his lips and kissed her palm. He said "I am very sorry for making you think I was with another woman."

Tiffany said "I am sorry for doubting you."

Dallas pulled her into his arms and held her close. He gently pulled her chin up and kissed her. Tiffany gave herself to him.

When they parted their kiss, Tiffany said "Make love to me."

Dallas picked her up and carried her into their bedroom. He sat her on the bed, walked to the door and locked it. He walked to the dresser, lit a candle on top of it and turned off the light. He lit candles on each of the two night stands.

When Dallas was done with the lighting, he stood in front of his wife and took his clothes off slowly.

Tiffany was watching her husband move around the room. When he started stripping in front of her, she licked her lips and let her hands fall between her legs. She watched him unbutton his shirt and let it fall to the floor. He unfastened his pants, slid them off of his butt and pulled them off one leg at a time. He took off his shorts and socks, and stood before her with his cock hanging down.

Dallas took Tiffany's hands in his and pulled her to her feet. He slowly ran his hands up her arms, held his open hands to her neck and kissed her sweetly. He pulled back from the kiss, and unbuttoned her shirt. He took it off of her slowly, letting his hands brush her skin. He put it on a chair in the corner and turned back to her,

Dallas unhooked Tiffany's bra in the front and let out her breasts. He slid the straps down her arms and brushed her hands as he let her bra fall to the floor. He kneeled in front of her and kissed her stomach as he unfastened her pants. He slid them down off of her butt with her panties, and had her sit on the bed. He pulled the cuff of one pant leg over her heel and pulled it off of her, as she pulled her leg up. He repeated the same with the other one. He took her pants and laid them on the chair.

Dallas pulled Tiffany's panties off and held them to his nose. Dallas inhaled, and let her panties fall to the floor. He picked up a bottle of massage oil and had her lay down on her stomach.

Dallas put some oil on his hands and started rubbing it into her skin on her right arm. He started at her wrist and worked his way up her arm to her shoulder. He then moved to her left arm and did the same.

Dallas put more oil on his hands and started rubbing down her sides. He kissed her stomach and moved his hands to her right leg. He started with her thigh and worked his way down her leg to her ankle massaging her.

He put more oil on his hands and started working up her left leg, from her ankle to her thigh. He turned her over on her stomach and massaged the back of her legs, working out the tension in her. When he got to her butt he squeezed a cheek in each hand.

Dallas put some oil on her back and massaged it from her waist to her shoulders and neck. He nibbled her left ear. Tiffany moaned.

Dallas turned Tiffany onto her back and laid himself down on top of her. He squeezed her left breast in his right hand and kissed her deeply. Tiffany responded by kissing him passionately. He slid his right hand down her and found the mound of her pussy.

He gently pressed his hand onto it and slipped his middle finger between her pussy lips. Tiffany moaned into Dallas' mouth and raised her hips, as he fingered her.

Dallas started sliding his cock on Tiffany's slick legs, getting it hard.

Tiffany pulled back from their kissing, and said "You are the best. I want you inside me." 

Dallas got up on his knees, moved his hands to Tiffany's knees and parted her legs. He put his right hand above her pussy, and slid his thumb down on her clit. He took his cock in his left hand, and guided the head of it to her pussy lips. He moved the head of his cock up her wet slit, and started pushing it into her. Tiffany raised her hips sliding onto his cock into her pussy.




Tiffany and Dexter



Dear Readership,

This is the first time I have ever, as far as I can recall, prefaced a story of mine with lengthy pre-comments or explanatories. I offer this because of a couple of thoughtful comments posted by folks after one of my recent submissions. They, the correspondents, offered that I was one author who seemed bent on sticking my chin out there were the anonymatii could take a whack at it. Well...

I don't actually seek to be insulted and threatened and bullied. Who in the world would for goodness sakes? That said, I will nevertheless not ever allow myself to be intimidated or alter my style or proclivities simply because someone else doesn't like me or what I write. I like to think that I am stronger than that—hell, I am stronger than that.

It would be wonderful if everyone did like what I write, but I know that that isn't realistic even in the best of scenarios. And, for the record, I do not claim, or by any means believe, that I am a great writer, but I do know "how" to write. I am one of the few people that I know of who actually reads grammars for fun. 

Another "commenteer" recently stated that my stories had, shall I say, a certain sameness to them. Okay, I'll own to that. However, I have in the works, at various stages of completion exactly thirty-eight stories one of which is slated to be a 500 page novel and another a shorter novella. Too, several of the thirty-eight are of singularly different genre' than my "Loving Wives" stuff. At any rate...

None of us that write here get paid. None of us are likely to ever be famous—though hope springs eternal. In any event, I wish to say, that I hope that sooner or later, that those who spew hatred and malevolence in the comments section here on Literotica will come to realize that maybe they should be reading in other theaters, or at least modify to some small degree their language. Nevertheless, I love you all. And, happy reading to everyone.

Oh, and I hope you like this one, but well, some probably won't. And that's okay; I find it amusing that some will actually read stuff they claim to hate. I lift my glass (martini) in salute to such courageous longsuffering critics.

Matt

******

My name is Dexter Lannin. My wife is Tiffany. Tiffany is five-nine, two inches taller than me, a bit overweight, but voluptuous rather than fat; and she is cute. She's a brunette and wears her tresses a trifle longer than shoulder length. 

Me? As I indicated, I'm five-seven, one-fifty, brown-haired; but losing it I'm afraid. Well, whaddya gonna do. I'm a bouncer at a local country-western bar and dance hall. I was a fighter in my youth, golden gloves. Joined the Army when I turned eighteen, fought welterweight while in, got a halfway decent education out of it too (Sizemore Community College). After mustering out, I went looking for a job.

Problem was I had trouble finding a job. I had gotten my A.A. in Liberal Studies, Which as it happened, turned out to be not exactly a degree that was in great demand, but hell I was cultured. I had been working part time as a bouncer in order to get by while in school. Now, I had to try and make it full time. My boxing days were behind me, but I guess I still qualified as a pretty decent ass kicker. The pay was okay too, and the work not overly strenuous. 

Roy Jenkins is the owner and chief bartender of Stacks. Stacks serves up good whiskey, decent burgers, and pretty good country music, disco style, seven nights a week. Roy had always appreciated the fact that I was always on time and didn't look for trouble like some of the more macho bouncers did. He'd just shrugged and said sure when I asked if I could go full time.

It was at Stacks that I met and saved Tiffany Gilchrist from a fate worse than death: Darrel Brothers wanted to fuck her—without her permission. I put him down, kicked him out, and my thank you from Tiffany was a night in the sack with her! We were married six months later, in the bar!

Tif and I have now been married for nine years. For the record we're both thirty-four years old. She works for a hot shot car dealership owner now. She's his office manager and private secretary. But, and you knew this was coming, I've discovered she's also been moonlighting as his sex toy. I know because right now, I am standing in the doorway of his office watching him bang her from behind. 

Dwight Williams, her boss, is black, six-two, more or less, and an ex-jock who played for State a decade past—offensive guard, I think. Well, he's still offensive but not the football kind.

Stunned, angry, hurt, fearful of losing my woman, and undecided what to do; I continued to watch the tableau play out. I knew my marriage was probably in the shitter, and the thought devastated me. 

Finished, the asshole pulled out of her and started to pull up his pants. He finally saw me. 

"Oh Jesus!" he said.

Tiffany turned to see as she buttoned up her skirt. "Oh my, Dex. Oh my. I am so sorry, Dexter," she said. I just stared at her. I really was in a state of shock. She came to me. She nodded at her boss to get lost; he did.

She sat me down in a chair and knelt in front of me. The concern in her eyes real, and not for her; but for me! "Dexter, my God, you were never meant to see that. I feel so bad for you, my husband. Are you okay?"

She was tending to me as though I were a little kid who had just fallen of my bicycle. I wasn't okay. And, I was beginning to get back some level of self-control. 

"Tiffany, we're through!" I said. The tears were coming, my tears. I couldn't stop them. She suddenly looked stunned.

"Oh my, no," she said. "I love you not him. He's just a plaything. A sex toy, that's all. Can you understand that, Dexter? Just a sex toy, nothing more."

She was combing my hair back with her hand. "Let's go home, my husband. I need to make you feel all better," she said. 

"No dammit!" I said. "Seein' you—him—it's..." She started to cry too. I wanted to reach for her, do my duty to comfort my wife. But, she wasn't my wife anymore. She was somebody else, some stranger. I had to get out of there.

Somehow I found my car and began driving. I just drove. I had just broken up with my wife! I wasn't able to think. I needed a drink. The sauce would do me good. Damn straight it would, I thought.

I was sitting in a booth at Momma's, my other favorite bar, when who should show up but my erstwhile wife. It looked like I couldn't escape. I feared her. With her I was a complete wimp. I will take on a busload of shitfaced cowboys and do no worse than a tie, but with Tiffany? I have no hope.

"Let's go home, Dexter. I have some very serious fence mending to do," she said. I did as she instructed; well, I said I was a wimp when it came to her.

In our room, she stripped first herself then me. I was an automaton. I was hopeless. I knew that soon the chickens were going to be coming home to roost and something bad was likely going to happen. But, not today.

She knelt in front of my naked body and played with my penis. I was hard in short order and she sucked on it like it was a matter of life and death; well, it was, at least as far as my marriage was concerned.

She fucked me cowgirl style and collapsed on top of me drained. Well, I guess her previous bed partner that day had pretty well drained her energy supply. There was no encore. We lay there not speaking each lost in our own thoughts.

At some point we fell asleep. I remember her saying that everything was going to be all right; I was doubtful. How could it be? But, she'd said it; maybe it was true.

We awakened at the same time. We both stunk. We needed showers and we needed them bad. She rolled out of bed; she was still naked. Her matted pubis testimony to the serious fucking she'd had the day before. I knew she was still full of his spunk too; I could smell it in the mix.

She took my hand and led me into the bathroom. "Come on husband; we're going to shower together. Then, we'll get dressed, go downstairs, eat, and talk." She wasn't asking me; she was directing me. I wasn't sure I liked what she was saying, and I knew I wasn't going to like what I was going to be hearing; but we did need to do all of the things that she had listed.

I nodded. "Okay," I said, finally.

The shower was sensuous. My cock rose to the occasion and she actually giggled. "I'll take care of that little matter for you right now," she said. She went to her knees, right there in the shower and engulfed my hardon in her mouth. Every once in a while, I could feel her naked breast slap against my thigh. Off and on, her lips would let my staff slip out so she could lick the full length of it and my balls, and then she would engulf me once again and suck for all she was worth. It was clear to me that she was trying to make up for the pain she'd caused me the day before. I stiffened; she took it all. It was a mercy suck, I knew, but whaddya gonna do. 

As my cock shrank, she gave my balls a final squeeze and looked up at me. "Are we okay?" she said. All I could do was spread my hands in an I-don't-know gesture.

We dressed and went down. She scrambled some eggs and fried some slices of russets. I set the table and made the coffee. We sat down to eat. Strangely, I was as hungry as I'd ever been. But, I was still shaken by the events of the preceding afternoon. I did not want to lose my wife, but I was afraid I already had; that, in spite of her efforts the night before and in the shower this morning. It was the moment of truth.

"Dexter, if you would like, why don't you ask me about it; or, if you want, tell me what you want to tell me. I promise to be as truthful and candid as I can," she said.

"How long?" I said.

She smiled. "Long enough. Almost since I started working there. Always at the office, never anywhere else. We thought it was safer that way. His wife—you—we didn't want either of you to know, either of you to be hurt. For us it was just the sex." She stopped and looked at me.

"But why? I thought we had a good sex life," I said.

"Dexter, we do. That is, what there is of it," she said.

"Huh?"

"Dexter, how often do we have sex together?" she said.

"I guess, two or three times a week. I think you always cum too," I said. 

"And those few times you don't come with my dick in you, my mouth finishes you off," I said, defending my prowess.

"You are exactly right in everything you say," she said. "But, could you do it every day?"

"Well I..."

"Dexter, no you couldn't. Neither can Dwight. Men are limited in their abilities in that regard. In spite of the silly bravado you men all put out there. Oh, you could do it for a while probably, but soon you'd be drained both of spunk and desire. It's nature, Dexter," she said.

"Dwight and I do it about twice a week. That coupled with your three times takes care of me.

"Dexter, Dwight is just the second string. He comes in to lead the team when you need a rest. He's a good guy, and he is sensitive to my needs and your honor, believe it or not," she said.

"But he's made me his cuckold!" I said. "You too. You've made me a wimpy laughingstock between you."

"My God no!!" she said. "We have never laughed at you, and no one else knows but you, me, and Dwight of course. And, that's the way it's going to stay. But, yes, you are my cuckold, I suppose, and Dwight's too. But that's just a definition, not anything meaningful in itself."

It was time, I had to ask the next question and I feared the answer. I slumped back in my chair. "Are you going to stop it? I mean now that I know."

She gave me a decidedly undecided look. "Let me ask you a question as a means of answering you, Dexter. Do I have to?"

"What!"

"Dexter, I have never denied you anything in bed. I have cooked for you, washed for you, loved you, treated you like the heman you are. I have never had a date with Dwight or any other man. I just use him like a live dildo. He uses me like a live blowup doll. So I ask you again, do I have to give my toy up?"

I stared at her. "If I say to give him up, will you?" I said. "I mean really. No more sneaking around."

She stood and paced the kitchen floor several times before answering. She stopped and looked at me. "I'd try," she said.

I had been thinking the while she had been pacing back and forth. She'd betrayed me in fact if not in her heart. He'd betrayed his wife. And now I could go any of several ways, and none of them looked real good to me. The question was, how did I really feel about it all? Hurt? Betrayed? Ambivalent? Excited by the dirtiness of it? What?

"I don't know what to say, Tif. I just don't know what to say, and you are actually suggesting that..."

"Dexter, while I was cooking a little bit ago, I had a thought. It was—it was—it was kinda out of the blue. What if—what if there was a way to include you. I mean with Dwight and me. I mean if you were to participate in some way—I mean it sounds crazy, but..."

"You just said that you knew I couldn't handle more than I'm doing now, and you're probably right. So how do I participate, even if I wanted to do something as crazy as that, and I don't? I mean you already said that you know I can't do it that often?" I said.

"I don't know, but we could figure out something," she said.

I looked at her like she was nuts! "I have to think," I said. "I have to think. I'm going out. I'll be back later, and we'll talk some more. Okay?" She nodded but said nothing. 

I picked up my keys and headed for the door. I was half way out the driveway when I remembered I was still hungry; I hadn't eaten any of the stuff she'd cooked. Well, I'd just have to make do. I just had to get my head straight. Participate?

******

I sat in the last booth at the local Denny's. My seventy-third cup of coffee in front of me. I made up my mind. It was Wednesday. It was 10AM. I didn't have to be at Stacks till noon. I rang a number I knew by heart. I must have called it a hundred times, a thousand times, over the years.

The man answered. He would be there in ten minutes. Good, he was nervous too.

I saw him park and stride toward the entrance as I waited with my seventy-fourth cup of coffee in front of me. He saw me, came over, and slid into the booth opposite me.

"Before you say anything, Dexter, let me," said Dwight. I nodded. When I'd played ball in high school, I remembered that our coach always elected to defend rather than to receive if we won the toss. I thought that was good strategy then, and I thought so now; I was more than happy to let the man who had cuckolded me go first and reveal himself. That would allow me to react more effectively. I could kill him any time. He was a big guy, but there was no doubt in my mind that I could rip him a new one if it came to blows.

"Yeah, that's okay by me," I said.

"Thank you. Before we get to the gritty stuff, let me say how sorry I am for putting you through this. I imagine you've already talked to your wife. Please, please, I beg of you; do not divorce her. She is a good woman and she is your woman. Yes, we play. Yes we've done it a lot. And, now that it's over...." He paused and changed the subject. I knew this was a selfish man, but at least he wasn't rubbing it in.

"Are you going to inform my wife? If you do, I will understand. But, I would beg you, and I am begging you, to please not do it. We have four kids, all under age. And, Letitia, while I don't think she'd divorce me—well, she would make life for all of us a living hell. That I deserve it, notwithstanding, I would hope you will have mercy on me, on us. There, that's all I have. But I will hear you out too. And thank you for this chance."

"Why?" was my first question.

He smiled I didn't. "Because I'm a horny assed toad and your wife is pretty. But, also because my sex life at home is—well, it's not all that great. Partly my fault, I guess, but Letitia just doesn't like it as much as she used to while Tiffany..."

I interrupted him. "If I lay off telling your wife, what assurance would I have that you wouldn't continue what you've been doing with mine?" I said. I was acting cold, but not aggressively so toward the man. I was conflicted. I had thought over all of the things that Tiffany and I had said to each other. But, now I was in a dilemma. 

I knew I could get the both of them to swear off each other. But, would that stop the desire they had for each other. Would that guarantee that they wouldn't just be more careful? I could make her quit her job, get her away from him. But if she worked somewhere else, would it be less or more likely that she would cuckold me again with someone new. The issue of trust was becoming the biggee. And, she'd already informed me that her desires were almost too much for her to control.

And, what about her idea of including me? It had made my penis tingle and harden when she'd suggested it. But, threesomes? I was not at all sure I wanted any part of that regardless of how stimulating the idea might be in the abstract. And, even if I did go along with it, what would my role be? 

I had to admit, but only to myself, that I had had fantasies. But, they were just that. I had never seriously considered implementing any of them. And, now here he was in front of me, the big, black, athlete of a man who I would conceivably be playing with, whose cuckold I was. What I said and did now would pretty much be irrevocable.

He'd been looking at me, no doubt thinking of how to answer me. Now he spoke again. 

"I can only say that I swear on the heads of my children that I will not do anything sexual ever again with your wife. I won't anyway, Dexter, no matter what you decide. But, I still hope you'll not let Letitia know of my behavior. Again, I deserve anything you do to me, but telling her won't change anything and it will hurt her—and my children," he said.

I had to admit, he was saying all the right things, and more; his tone of voice was winning me over. "Okay, then," I said, "I will not let your wife in on this; but I expect you to keep your promise to me. There's a lot more I have to say to you, Mr. Williams, but right now, I need to get home and speak some more to my wife."

I pulled into the drive some six hours after having left. Tiffany was in the kitchen scrubbing out a couple of cupboards. I sat down at the table and watched her. I could see her glance my way every minute or so. She was waiting for me to start.

"I've been thinking," I said. She stopped and put down the soapy rag she'd been working with.

"Okay?" she said.

"I don't want a divorce. But, I can't live with you sneaking around either."

I could see tears beginning to form in her eyes. "I've been considering your idea?" I said.

"My idea?"

"Yes, of including me in the mix," I let it sink in but it apparently wasn't sinking in very quickly. She looked at me strangely.

"You mean with me and Dwight? You mean in our sex—acts?" she said.

"Yes. Your little 'ole cucky here is willing to listen to your ideas on the subject. But, at this point to just listen."

Now, she began bawling and bawling loudly! She came and threw her arms around me. She didn't, or more accurately couldn't, say anything, not at first. Damn women!

"I'll be your willing cuckold, I guess," I said.

"And no cuckold will ever have been treated better than I am going to treat mine," she screamed out in happiness. Damn women.

It was a good hour before she could calm down enough to set the groundwork for how it was going to work, the new scene.

"Yes, my darling. You have made me very happy. I want you to know I was more than ready to not do anything—well, what it was that I was doing, I mean. But, this decision of yours has caught me by surprise," she said.

"Me too," I said, sheepishly. "I'm not exactly sure what it will mean. I need you to know that we have to go a little bit easy, at least at first. To tell you the truth, I'm a little bit scared. I ain't scared of anything, Tif, but I'm scared of this."




Tiffany and Dexter



"I promise you that I will take care of you. You'll have my back, but I will be watching out for your front, no pun intended," she laughed.

******

I heard her on the phone talking to him. It was clear that he was more than a little skittish, but hell, so was I.

She turned around and saw me. "Hi," she said. "I didn't hear you come in." She said goodbye to whoever it was, and she hung up.

"I just now got back," I said. "Things were slow. I didn't need to be there, so I decided to come home early." I motioned toward the phone. "Was that him?"

"Yes. It's on for Saturday night. Here," she said. I nodded. I was suddenly nervous. Having a date to look forward to, and that only two days hence, made things more real somehow. She saw I had paled a little.

"It's all about fun and games, Dex, just fun and games. For me that's the sex part. For you it's the teasing, and maybe a little mental and sexual humiliation, the fun kind, the cuckold kind. Are we okay?" she said.

"Yeah, we're okay. We're fine. I'm just a little nervous."

"That's understandable," she said. 

"So how will it play out?" I said.

"Well, I've been thinking about that," she said. "I think it would be best if the two of you do not talk to each other. Maybe some other time, but not this first time. Anyway...

"He'll come over, and I will have both of us prepared. You'll get to watch the whole thing; unless, you decide not to at the last minute. He'll undress me, and play with me a little then he'll fuck me. When he's had me once, I will suck him back to life, and then he'll take me again. Finally, we'll cuddle a little, and then he'll go home.

"That's when you will be required to do your duty," she said.

I knew what that meant, but I wanted her to tell me anyway. "What will my duties be exactly?" I said.

"Well, you will have to clean me orally, suck out all of his sperm. Then you will get to fuck me too: sloppy seconds for you." She was giggling almost uncontrollably.

I could feel my face flush. "That ought to be humiliating enough," I said, trying to induce a small laugh.

"That's a sure bet, my little cucky," she said. She continued to giggle. "I can hardly wait see you squirming in your chair trying to get some relief."

"Huh?"

"Well, dear, I will have to make sure you are safe and—well—secure. Do you understand?" she said.

"Uh—no," I said. "Secure?"

"Well, if it's all right, I had planned to strap you into a chair to watch us. Do you think that that is too much? If you do, we can do something else. I'm just afraid you might get too—well jealous, Dex. You are awfully tough; we both know that. My lover is going to be nervous enough even if you are strapped down good and tight," she said. "He's going to be thinking the whole time that sooner or later you're not going to be strapped down. And you'll be out and around, and maybe he'll think you'll be coming after him.

"He's a big guy, Dex, but not big enough to defend himself against you. He knows it; I know it, and you sure as heck know it."

I nodded. "If it will make you feel better, it's okay, I guess. I wouldn't do anything after I agreed to go through with it, but if it will make him and you feel more—secure. I will accept you strapping me into the chair."

"Thank you dear. I think it might add a little bit of spice to the action too, dontcha think? I mean you, as a willing cuckold, allowing yourself to be strapped down and denied for a little while? The thought of you being there, strapped down like that, unable to get relief; well, it's so hot."

"Yeah, I guess so," I said. She placed her hand gently on my arm. Jesus this woman was sexual.

"We won't laugh at you, Dexter. Tease you a little? Yes. But, we won't laugh at you. I promise you that," she said.

******

I was up early; there had been no possibility of sleep for me anyway. This was the day: the day I would become a "willing" cuckold. Before, I had been just the victim of a cheating wife. But no more, in a few hours that would all change. I wasn't nervous; I was terrified.

I heard Tiffany in the downstairs bathroom. I knew she was getting some things ready for the evening. She didn't want to be fooling with them later. I was busy with the coffee pot.

"Hi buster," she said, smiling the smile of one who was in control, which she was. "Excited about tonight?"

I swallowed. I swallowed hard. She noticed.

"Dex, you have to be loose about this. Kinda looking forward to it, or I don't want it to happen. I am doing this partly for me; yes, it will be hot and fun and all kinds of interesting. But if you're not into it neither am I. Okay?" she said.

"Yes. Yes. I'm fine. I won't pretend I'm not nervous, but I'm fine. It's kind of a turn on. I know I'll be better once we get started. 

"Hey, I'm allowed to have some jitters, aren't I," I said

"Yes, of course you are. I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I'm a little nervous too. 

"You know what," she said. "I'll bet you a million bucks that Dwight is twice as nervous as either of us." She laughed and this time it was infectious; I laughed too.

"Yeah, you might be right," I said.

I watched the clock closely all day. She caught me doing it a number of times and just smirked. I stuck my tongue out at her once.

"Oh ho!" she said. "Is my little cuckold getting to be a smarty pants. You're going to pay for that one, just you wait," she said, kidding me—well, I hoped she was kidding me.

At 6:30 she was almost ready. She came downstairs dressed to kill. God my wife was beautiful. "You like?" she said. 

"Isn't my tongue hanging out," I said.

She laughed at me. "Well, only a mile," she said.

"Good, I was afraid it was obvious," I said.

She was wearing a strapless black sheath, with four-inch come fuck me pumps. Her hair billowed out from her face and in the wildest curls I had ever seen on her. Her lips were ruby red and nails matched. And, she smelled wonderful.

"All this for your lover?' I said.

"Hell no," she said. "I never dressed like this for him. Just work clothes. This is for you. It's designed to drive you nuts, not him. "He'll get his jollies, make no mistake. But this night is really for you and me. Okay?"

She came to me and kissed me lightly on the lips. "Are you ready?" she said. "We don't have much time. I told him not to come early, but he will be on time; I'm certain of that."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm ready," I said. I tried to sound convincing, for me and for her. She took my hand and led me upstairs. She was in charge now.

I watched her butt sway from side to side as we made our way slowly up and to the bedroom. God she was beautiful, I thought. It was going to be a tough few hours for me to get through. Real tough.

The chair was set several feet from the queen-size bed we had shared for so long. It had not been there earlier, and it was new, heavy, and oaken. "Dex, would you like to leave your pants on or...?"

"I'll leave it up to you, I guess," I said. She smiled and nodded. 

"Drop your pants, honey. Your undies too," she said.

"My shirt?"

"No, leave it on," she said. I stood in front of her naked from the waist down. She indicated that I should sit in the chair. She watched me as I got comfortable. My penis was harder than the chair I would be sitting on.

She went to the dresser and pulled out several lengths of rope. One strand was already looped into a simple noose, like a hangman's noose. She slipped it over my head and around my neck, slipping the noose snug, but not too tight. She pulled me gently back and tied it off behind me to the back of the chair. Next, she took a longer strand and held it up for me to see. "Put your hands behind your around the back of the chair, Dex," she said. I did as she commanded.

She bound my wrists very tightly behind me. "I hope that's not too tight, honey, but your bonds have to be secure," she said. I nodded.

"Their okay," I said.

She took one more long piece of rope and wrapped it around my chest. Next were my ankles. She looped strands of rope around each and secured them to the legs of the chair. I was spread wide and completely vulnerable to anything she or he would wish to do to me. I was totally at her mercy. She stood back and gazed into my eyes. I saw love there. She kissed me once more on the lips. "I love you," she said. She had one more thing to do to me.

"This is necessary, I'm afraid, Dex. I don't want you crying or threatening Dwight or being vocally jealous. Well, you know." She went behind me and fitted the ball gag into my mouth and pulled on it firmly and tightened behind my head. Now, I was not only immobile, I was also unable to object to anything as well. 

Coming around to my front, she said, "Okay, my husband, now we wait for my lover." She turned and headed downstairs. It was six minutes to seven on the wall clock across from me.

Tiffany had been wrong. Her lover was four minutes early.

I could hear them out in the hall. I couldn't make out the words, but I could hear them. The tone was—tentative. It was clear to me that they were as nervous as I was. She was probably explaining to him what he was going to find when they came inside. Also, it was likely that he was getting instructions in how to behave. Whatever, the talking soon stopped and she led him by his hand inside. They were a dozen feet from me.

Dwight looked at me and smiled, but it was a friendly I-hope-this-is-okay-with-you-buddy smile. The noose around my neck made it difficult for me, and I didn't want to strangle myself by too much movement, but I nodded slightly acknowledging his greeting. He turned his attention back to the mistress of the evening. She looped her arms around his neck and they kissed, lightly, then more passionately. 

My emotions were running amok. Seeing my wife lend serious affection to her lover hurt, a little; I couldn't deny it. His hands slipped down to her butt. I could see her smile at him. She turned toward me; her brow was wrinkled; I knew she was concerned about the effect their actions were having on me. I nodded my tiny okay to her. She smiled me her thank you.

Soon they were feeling each over up. They were still standing there a dozen feet from me, but it was clear that they weren't going to keep doing what they were doing for long. 

He stepped back from her, touched her cheek and then turned her around. She was facing me as he slid the zipper on the back of her dress down. She hunched forward a little and the dress fell to the floor and pooled at her feet. She was in front of him, her back to him and I watched as he ground his hardness into her buttocks. His hands slid around to her front and cupped her breasts. She leaned back against him with her eyes closed in lust.

He got down on his knees behind her and undid her bra. It too now fell to the floor. His final act was to slowly very slowly pull down her panties and expose here completely bald mons and pussy lips. She still stood there, her eyes still closed. I could only see his face partially as she was still in front of him. It was obvious that he was licking her crack and her anus and loving it. God! how I wished it was me licking sucking her little brown place. I made a promise to myself that I would before the night was out. Well if she untied me at any rate.

His hand had snaked around to the front of her and had insinuated itself into the folds of her labia. She was jerking a little. I think she was having the first of a series of little orgasms as he played with her body.

Her eyes opened. She stared directly into my eyes and mouthed me a kiss. I started to cry, and she smiled at it. I was crying out of jealousy and desire and she knew it.

She turned around and her butt was for me to see as he licked her pussy with a ferocious intensity that I could well understand. He stripped in record time and his cock danced in front of her; she slapped at it playfully.

He stood and whispered something to her. She nodded. They came to me. She leaned forward placing her hands on the arms of the chair where I sat helpless, wordless, and bound. Her face was but inches from mine. She stuck her ass back and spread her legs wide for him. He looked at me thoughtfully and then began poking at her pussy from behind. 

"Oh my, Dexter, he is so big. Bigger than you, honey; but not better, just bigger. It hurts a little. Ooooohhh," she mewed, as he pushed all of the way inside of her. He rubbed her back a little and then began drilling her. Soon he was screwing her fiercely. She choked back spittle from time to time as he mastered her and rudely handled her as though a conquest, one that she had to endure. Suddenly she began to jerk and shake and blubber something; the orgasm shook her to the core. She sagged a little as he emptied himself into her. She opened her eyes which had closed again during her cum. She mouthed me another kiss but did not touch me in any way.

He pulled her back to the bed and they sixty-nined each other. She was on top as his pole once again attained its hardness. He flipped her roughly over and took her in the missionary position. She stiffened and arched her back trying to drive as much of him as she could into herself. She screamed as her third orgasm tore through her.

He collapsed onto her, and after a moment rolled off. They cuddled and kissed and made romantic love. The tears in my eyes were many and seemingly endless during these moments. She was loving him, not just fucking him.

After a while, she rose and looked over at me. She brought him to me and knelt in front of him. They were sidelong to me. She began to stroke his cock. She stroked it for some time before he began jerking and spasming in the throes of his own orgasm. She aimed his cock at me and he spewed his cum all over my face and chest. She smiled. "My willing little cuckold," she said, smiling benevolently at me.

They returned to the bed, and cuddled a while. It was nine-twenty-two. He'd been with her—us— for almost two and a half hours. She said something to him and he got up, dressed, nodded to me, and left.

My wife came to me, touched my cheek and took the ball gag from my mouth. "It's time to reward my little cucky," she said.

I was silent. Well, I was silent until she engulfed my cock in her mouth and sucked me off with a passion I couldn't believe that she had left in her. She swallowed it all. She untied me, stripped me of my shirt, and took me to bed.

She looked at me seriously before she lay down beside me. "Did you enjoy it honey. I tried to make it as good as I could for you?" she said.

I was trying to form my first words since being released. Did I trust myself? "Yes, it was very good," I said. "But, I was so jealous..."

"That's what it's about, my little cuckold. You need to be jealous—and horny. It's what it's all about."

"I know," I said. 

"It's time for you to do your duty," she said. And, I did.

We cuddled, and in the morning she fucked me once cowgirl style, and once with me taking her from behind. It was beautiful.

Finished and sated, I lay gasping. "Was it good for you, dear," said Tiffany, my wife.

"Yes, and I have to say, about last night, that your lover played his role very well. He cuckolded me well. I was jealous of him, but I did not hate him or want to hurt him," I said.

She smiled her thanks to me and kissed me gently. "Dexter, you know that as we get further into your cuckolding, it will be a little bit harder on you. You know that right?" she said.

I looked her askance. "I guess," I said tentatively, not really knowing what she meant. Her words left me a bit uneasy, but things had gone so well that I pushed any negative thoughts to the back of my mind. We'd see.

******

And things did go well, and remained fairly static for the next few months. Dexter would come over a couple of times a month, usually on a Friday night, and we'd repeat our experience of the first time. I had to assume they were also still doing it at the office, but I didn't have the balls to ask. While he was at the house though, he'd play with her, he'd fuck her two or three times while I was strapped down, and then it would be my turn. Finally, the last time we did it with Dwight—wait, I'll explain that in a moment; I'm getting ahead of myself—anyway, Tiffany put a couple of wrinkles in our game now.

"Honey, I'm not going to tie you up or gag you tonight," she said, "I mean not at first, just later."

"Thank God," I said. "It is really tiring for my jaw to be wedged open like that for so long a time."

"Weeell," that's a benefit to you, I guess; but that's not the main reason," she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"I want you to be with me at the beginning and help get him ready for me," she said.

"What do you mean," I said.

"I need you to undress him, and well, be on your knees..." she paused in mid sentence waiting for me to understand. It finally dawned on me.

"You want me to suck him?" I said, turning red as a beet, I could feel it. She just watched me, saying nothing. But it was clear that it is something that she had been thinking about.

I nodded. "I'll try, but no guarantees," I said. "This is what you meant about things getting more—something—as time went along, right?"

"Partly, dear, But only if you agree. You are his cuckold after all as well as mine. You need to show it. You know? I mean on your knees?" she said. But--no demands only requests and the trying as you say," she said.

That next time with Dwight was slow and interesting. He evidently knew what to expect because he showed no surprise to find me untied, naked from the waist down, and on my knees when he arrived. 

We did the scene and I got through it: me pulling his pants down and sucking him to steel hardness and then undressing the rest of him before my wife again strapped me into the chair. After which, of course, he fucked her silly.

We did our after cuckolding thing as usual when he left, and that set the tone for the next couple of months. Things seemed to be progressing. I began to worry a little that I was becoming too docile, and that made me even more jealous than I had been; but neither Tiffany nor Dwight did anything in particular to make me feel insecure or to be concerned about. It was then that everything changed.

As they lay there cuddling and me even more jealous and humiliated than usual he laid it on me.

"Dex, Tiffany, and I have something we have to say to you. Okay?" he said. Tiffany looked startled.

"Dwight, now is not the time. I mean it," she said. I was still bound tightly and gagged. I was unable to react except to look at the two of them and wonder what was about to be said.

"Tif, he needs to know, and you need to let me tell him. It's time," he said.

"No!" she said.

"Yes," he said.

Tif came to me and undid my ball gag, and began top release me. He came to her and stopped her.

"Please," he said, holding her wrist. "Before you let him loose, let me have my say." Tiffany looked daggers at him. She yanked her hand away realizing that the cat, whatever it was, was out of the bag. Something bad for me was about to be said.

He sat on the bed across from me. "Dex—Tif—Tif and I are in love."

I could feel the color drain from my face. "We've just been waiting for a good time to tell you. There is no good time. Tif will be seeking a divorce from you this week. Please, we did not mean for this to happen. It just did. I'm sorry," he said.

I looked over at Tiffany; she was crying. "Tiffany, please untie me. I won't hurt him—or you. I just have to get out of here. I need to be alone. Please untie me." My tone was urgent. She came to me tentatively. For his part he was dressing very fast. By the time I was loose and rubbing my wrists, he was gone.

"Dexter, I'm so sorry," she said. "It just happened." I nodded. I went to the closet and got my bags. I started throwing stuff into them. I was packed in less than thirty minutes.




Tiffany and Dexter



"Tell him not to come around me. It isn't safe for him. You either," I said. She started at my last words. 

"I'll sign the divorce papers, I said "But, no alimony or hitting my retirement account. You can have everything else. I don't want anything that will remind me of you." I turned and left.

"Dexter, I'm sorry, really!" she half screamed at me as I backed out of the driveway. My heart was dead. The bitterness was building to a crescendo. I needed to get out of there. If I did not, I knew I might actually hurt the one I had loved most in the whole world and in my whole life.

*******

I got the papers a week later. She gave me what I asked for: no alimony and no touching my retirement. She also had a check delivered to me for my half of the savings we had shared. She kept the checking account; well, she would be making the house payments. I was satisfied as much as I could be having lost my wife.

I fell into the usual routine of the emotionally destroyed spouse. Work, eat, drink, sleep. Social life? Zero. Interest in having one, also zero. I was numb. I was bitter. And I was alone and lonely.

Working at the bar kind of kept me on center.

An old friend of mine from school days, high school days, came by on a Thursday afternoon. It had been two months since I had signed the divorce papers. My feelings were still fragile, and my ability to concentrate on anything but the disaster to my home life for any length of time was almost nil.

"Bob, Bob Morrison," I said, in a very surprised voice. "I haven't seen you since Jesus was young."

"Dex, it's good to see you. Whatcha been doing," he said.

"Uh—well, working, getting divorced, and crying about it a lot," I said.

"Really?" he said. "Should I change the subject?" 

"No, it doesn't matter. What is, is, I guess," I said.

"So what are you doing here?" I said. 

"I'm in town for a few days. Got an APA convention to attend."

"APA?"

"American Psychological Association. I'm a member—very low ranking member," he said.

"Hah! I coulda used your services these past weeks," I said.

"Well, I'm here for you if you want to unload," he said, but it'll cost you several drinks.

"Sounds like I might be able to afford you," I said.

"Lay it on," he said. And, for the next two hours, except for interruptions by the occasional customer needing service, I did.

He nodded gravely. "It's evident that you still love her. That's why the hurt, mainly anyway. The humiliation you could maybe get by, but the psychological investment is a lot. I'm not going to kid you; it's going to take you a while."

"Yeah, I guess," I said.

"What you need, is a replacement woman. Got anyone in mind?" he said.

"No, I haven't given it any thought. I'm too messed up," I said. "But, if you have any candidates you'd like to turn me on to?" I was only half kidding.

"I might. You busy Saturday afternoon?" he said.

"Have to work," I said. "But—wait." I headed for the back room. He was sleeping on the cot.

"Jimbo, wake up," I said.

"Huh? What the fuck, Dexter! I'm trying to get a little shuteye. I'm gonna be closin' tonight," he said.

"Jimbo, I need a favor," I said.

"Huh? What?" he said. 

"I need you to work a double on Saturday. I gotta have it off," I said. "I'll work your shift tonight and tomorrow. How about it?"

"Oh, okay, I guess," he said. "What, you finally got yourself a woman? Hell, I'd pay the broad if she's a whore just so you stop mopin' around."

"Great," I said.

Returning to the front, Bob saw the smile I was sporting. "I can make it," I said.

"Excellent," he said. "The woman's name is Dixie. She's recently divorced herself, and a little on the ragged side emotionally. You two might be made for each other at least in the short run."

"Really. You her shrink?" I said.

"No, no. The APA frowns on dual relationships and she's someone I know real well, same as you. I can't be your official shrink either. If you'd like to see one, I mean officially, I'll recommend a good one. But, I can't be your clinician and be your friend too," he said. "Hope you understand."

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "Dixie, you say. Pretty name."

"Yeah, and she is kinda pretty," he said. "She's not really just a friend, Dex; she's my sister."

"Your sister? But you only had one sister. Mae, I think her name was. Been a long while. I met her once maybe," I said.

"Her name's Dixie Mae. Actually, Ellie May Crawford nee Morrison," he said. I nodded my understanding. 

"Okay," I said. "Hope she doesn't expect too much; I've been pretty much a basket case here these past few months. But, I promise to treat her right. My ex humbled me pretty good, though, so I hope she won't expect someone who's a hundred percent together." I was rambling but I was excited too. I needed a woman to talk too, a real flesh and blood female human woman. I was needy, but I promised myself not to lay my excess baggage on her if I could help it. 

******

The party was in full swing when I arrived. Bob met me at the front door, handed me a Lite, and led me out to the patio. There had to be fifty people in the back yard. He gave me the ten cent tour, and at the end of it I found myself looking at the back of a woman with a short, boyish, hairdo and a petite, almost fragile looking body.

Bob tapped her on the shoulder. She turned and we were greeted with what had to be the most tentative smile I had ever been in the presence of.

"Dixie Crawford, this is Dexter Lannin," he said.

"Pleased, thrilled actually," I said.

"Thank you," she said. "Nice to meet you." Her words seemed a little forced, but I figured she'd been clued that I would be there, so I took the plunge. 

"Bob said he had a pretty sister. He didn't lie," I said. "She smiled, and again it seemed forced. I began to wonder if this had been such a good idea on my bud's part. So I asked her.

"Uh—Dixie, is there something wrong? I mean—I mean did Bob mention me to you?" I said. I was feeling and acting like a complete asshole. Well, in my defense it had been a million years since I had done anything like courting a female. And, regardless of what others might believe, it ain't like riding a bicycle.

"Uh—yes—he did Dexter. I just—I'm, well, kind of a basket case," she said. "I think he wants us to get together, Dexter, and I don't know if..."

"It's okay, Dixie. I completely understand. I've been kind of a basket case too. I'll just mosey around and maybe meet some of the other guests, see if I know anybody from the old days. Please don't feel pressured. You don't need it and neither do I," I said. I started to move off, and she came after me and grabbed my arm.

"No, no," she said, "I'm sorry, I'm just well a little skittish. There really isn't any reason you and I can't talk. Just—it's just that—well, I can't make a commitment of any sort right now. I'd like the company, but at the moment it is all I am looking for today. Okay?"

"Absolutely," I said. "I more than completely understand. Actually, I think we are both in about the same boat."

We talked for the next half hour. I learned about some of her betrayal by her hubby, and she learned of my similar experience with Tiffany. I think it was cathartic for the both of us; then, a torpedo sank my ship. Standing near the gate and being introduced to Bob, was Tiffany Lannin and Dwight Williams. My face paled, I could feel it. Dixie noticed.

"Dexter?" she said.

I nodded in the direction of the new arrivals. "My ex and her lover," I said. "I have to be going. I hope that your brother didn't invite them, because if he did we are no longer friends. Harummph! I wonder what Mr. Williams' wife is doing this afternoon. It was a rhetorical question." 

I headed toward the house. I was hoping to get out of there before she saw me. I was seething. Just as I got to the sliding glass doors that would admit me to the house and then the front door exit I was seeking, she saw me. And, as it happened, I took that unfortunate moment to glance back in her direction. Her mouth fell open and she mouthed my name. I stared at her for the briefest of moments and then was out through the doors and moving to the front yard and street and my car.

Chagrinned, I saw that my car was trapped, I couldn't get it out without returning to get the guests, who'd blocked me, to move their cars. I started walking, walking fast. I'd come back later, or tomorrow, to retrieve it. 

I'd almost gotten to the corner, a long block away, when a car pulled up beside me and Dixie hailed me to get in. I looked back down the block. I didn't see Tiffany, but I did see Dwight fussing near his car. He looked like he was going to get in it. I assumed he was going to try and chase me down though I couldn't think of any good reason for him to do so. 

I got in Dixie's car, and asked her to drive—fast! I didn't know if Dwight had tried to follow us or not, but if he had; we'd lost him in traffic.

"Okay, buster, how come you ran away?" said Dixie.

"I can't deal with her," I said. "The wounds are too deep and too recent." She nodded.

"I understand," she said. "You got anywhere to go, or can you and I make an afternoon of it?" she said. I looked over at her. 

"You'd do that for me?" I said.

"You, yes, and for me," she said. "I feel the same way about my cheating ex. He hurt me real bad." Boy, could I empathize with this woman.

"A day of it, it is, I said. "And maybe a night of it too if you're up for it."

"We'll see how it goes," she said.

*******

"I didn't know, Dwight. By God I didn't know. Whaddya think we should do? It seems like I can't do anything right. All I do is hurt the guy," said Tiffany.

"It's not your fault or mine. What are the odds that we'd bump into each other in a private home like this," he said.

"I—we've—gotta find him and straighten this out," she said. "I just know he thinks we came here to humiliate him!"

"Tiff, I doubt he thinks that. Anyway, his car is still here. He has to get it some time," he said. 

"I don't know, Dwight, but I'm staying till he comes to pick it up," she said. He nodded his support.

"Okay. We'll both stay. But, he won't be back for a while, Let's do what we came for and socialize with the Stahoskis. They invited us to come along and we are obligated to stick to our promise," he said. She nodded her assent.

******

"Dixie, thanks a million for a great day—and evening. You are one heckuva dancer," I said smiling my broadest as we returned to the house.

"You are entirely welcome. You made me feel half way human again," she said. "I was beginning to think that that was not going to be possible for me." She leaned in and put her arms around my neck and pulled me to her. We kissed long and softly.

"I needed that," she whispered.

"Me too," I said. "Can I call you?"

"Oh yeah," she said. "And, don't be long in the doing." I smiled. She pulled back and I got out of the car and headed for my own. It was no longer blocked. I didn't notice the figure coming up on my right and somewhat behind me as I keyed my door.

"Dexter, could I have a word with you please," said the voice. The voice of Tiffany, my soon to be ex-wife.

I'm sure that I jumped six inches straight up. "Jesus, Tiffany, you startled me. What the hell are you doing here. We're getting divorced—your idea as I recall. And, it's after midnight," I said. I wasn't being nice.

"Uh—I—we've—been waiting for you. I can't tell you how shocked I was, Dex, when I saw you here today." She nodded toward the house. "We didn't come to embarrass you, Dex, or anything like that, really. It was pure coincidence."

Over my initial reaction, I looked her up and down; she looked good. I looked around. "You said 'we' where is the asshole," I said.

"Dex, he's not a bad man. He just—we—just fell in love," she said. "It wasn't anything we planned."

"What the fuck ever," I said. "You still haven't answered me. Where..."

"He's back with the car," she said. She nodded back down the street. I could barely see their car in the shadows.

I sneered, but only to myself. "Good, have him stay there. I don't want to see his fucking ass," I said. "I'm telling you this as a warning. I hate the bastard, and I do not want to spend the rest of my life in jail for killing him. Got it, Tiffany?

"But, I'm confused. Why are you here? I think I already asked you that," I said.

"Dexter, in spite of everything, I still love you. It's just that—well—Dwight and I—we're—we're meant for each other in a very special way. I had to choose, Dexter, and it was the hardest thing I have ever done. Anyway, I wanted you to know that I didn't come here today to embarrass you. I really didn't. It was a pure coincidence. Honest to God," she said.

I looked at her with some interest. I believed her. But, I still had one question. "Tiffany, I have just one thing to ask you. Are you friends with Bob Morrison? I mean after today. You gonna be around him, his circle of friends. Be his friend?" I said.

"Huh? I guess we're friends. He invited me and Dwight to dinner next week, with the Stahoskis," she said. "Why?"

I just stared at her. "I gotta go. Have fun at your dinner next week," I said.

"Dex..."

I was already sliding into my car and keying the ignition. I pulled out and into the street. I headed home.

******

I fell back into my now well worn routine: wake up, eat, work, eat, drink, sleep and repeat the list six days a week. Sunday's, my regular day off, I slept most of the day. At night, I'd watch a little TV and get ready for the next set of six stinkin' days.

Two full months later, I had a visitor. It was early Sunday morning. I was not a happy camper being awakened by my nuclear powered doorbell before the sun had even had a chance to get serious. 

"Well, asshole, said the visitor, why haven't you called!" said Dixie.

"Huh?" I said, still rubbing sleep out of my eyes.

"You heard me, Dexter Lannin. You promised to call, and You haven't. This the way you treat all of your dates?" she said.

I left the door open and she followed me inside and closed the door behind her. I was still groggy.

"Your boxers are nice," she said, "but you might at least wanna put a robe on."

I looked down, then up, and darted down the hall for my pants and t-shirt. For sure I had to have had my head up my ass to answer the door dressed like that, I thought to myself.

Emerging from the hallway once more, I didn't see her, but I heard her. She was in the kitchen.

"I thought I'd put some coffee on while you figured out what lie you were going to tell me as to why you've utterly neglected me," she said.

"Yeah, right," I said. 

The coffee maker under way, she came to the table where I had found my usual perch and took a seat across from me.

"Well," she said. "Why no callzee-wallzee?"

I wished I'd had my cup already. I needed a cup bad. How could I tell any credible version of a lie without having had my coffee first. The woman wasn't cutting me any slack. I fell back on an old strategy that I normally would never have thought of employing in a situation like this one—I told the truth.

"It's complicated," I said.

"Risk it," she said. I looked down for a moment, then up.

"My ex and your brother have become friends. I will not deal with anyone who has as common friends me my wife and of course her asshole. 

"Your Bob's sister. Since I can't ask you to shine on your brother for life. I just decided to disappear.

"For the record, Dixie, that afternoon and evening that we were together I had begun to think that maybe—

"Well, anyway, it's a non happening, so why belabor the issue," I said.

"Huh? Are you serious? You're dumping me, almost before we get to know each other because my brother is friends with your ex? Did I get that right?" she said.

"That's about the size of it," I said.

"Young man, my brother does not dictate my social life. His friends have nothing to do with us. I don't get you," she said.

"It's simple really," I said. "Any friends of Tiffany and asshole's are not friends of mine—period, no negotiation. The humiliation I endured at their hands will never go away, not completely at any rate. I actually hate the two of them. 

"I know it's not rational. Anyway, as you can see you're better off without a nutcase like me," I said. She was slowly shaking her head.

"First off, why would you think that he has made friends with the dynamic duo?" she said. "I know you haven't talked with him. He asked me if I'd seen you, and I told him not since the day of the barbecue. He said to tell you, if I saw you, to drop by. I can tell you he doesn't know any of this."

"Maybe not, but can you see me issuing an ultimatum to him to either cut the pair off or he and I are no longer friends?" I said. "I can't. He has a right to choose his friends, and so do I. 

"Any relationship I could possibly have with anyone else would become immediately toxic if my enemies were involved," I said.

"I see. Still, you owe it to Bob to at least tell him. Leaving him in the dark for what may be the rest of your two lives is irrational and unfair, and I think you know it," she said.

"I know it is. I just can't face facing him. And, I will not budge on this issue. I will not share anything including friends in common with her or her asshole," I said. She nodded.

"You know," said Dixie, "You've told me how much she's hurt you and that you hate her—and him. But, maybe because we haven't spent much time together, you haven't said anything about your marriage before the blow up. Wanna share now?"

We heard the coffeemaker sputtering; the black elixir was ready.

******

"And that's the short and the short of it," I said. Having given her the short version; the long would wait for another day.

"You did the cuckold scene then?" she said. "Jesus, that sounds so hot, and so—dirty!" I just smirked.

"Yeah it was all of that," I said. "But, it ruined my marriage, I guess. I should have expected it. I didn't."

"But, you say your married life was good until, well, until that last night. I mean except for her screwing around with him before you found out about it. I mean you thought she and you—I mean the two of you were happy and in love until then," she said.

"Yes. I know it sounds confusing the way you are trying to say it—badly—but yes," I said. She slowly shook her head.

"I'm no psychologist like my brother, Dexter, but I think you miss her. I mean I know she's gone forever, and you have to get on with things, but it's going to be hard for you. I know because I'm in the same boat," she said.

"Well, okay, I've been a dickhead acting like I have toward you, Dix. Maybe, the two of us can be each other's anchor, you know at least for a while," I said. "I shoulda called you. You did nothing wrong, and you aren't her friend or his. I'll do better if you let me, okay?"

"Okay," she said, smiling. She came around to me and gave me a hug.

"Why don't you pour the coffee woman," I said, feigning the role of dictator.

We sipped our coffees and talked some more about our respective spouses and how they dumped us; then, she made me a proposition.

"Dexter, I want you to talk to my brother. You never know," she said.

"Okay," I said, capitulating. "I owe 'you' that at the very least.

"You know, Dixie, you are going to have to give me a longer version of your breakup, one of these days," I said. "Up to now it's only been me talkin'."

"I will," she said, but not this morning.

******

Lunch was at first cautious, then kinda noisy, then satisfactory.

"She never mentioned your name, Dex. I swear," said Bob.

"That is strange as hell because she saw me at the barbecue. She knew I was embarrassed. She knew I was hurt to see her there with him. And, I figured you were going to remain friends with them; hence, no call from me, Bob. 




Tiffany and Dexter



"I mean since I figured you had to know after the dinner if not before that we were quits forever," I said.

"I didn't know, Dex. I didn't. But..." he grew quiet.

"What," I said. "Wait, you intend to remain friends with them don't you?"

He interwove his fingers and tented them in front of him, elbows on the table. "In a word, yes, Dexter. I do. The two of them haven't done or said anything bad about you, nor have they done anything to offend me. People get divorced, Dex. They just do. It's part of life. You need to get by it. I know it's hard, but —well, I will try and help you if I can. And there is something else," he said.

"Save it, Bob, you are entitled to your friends; and I'm entitled to mine. So, thanks a million for the great dinner and the fine wine. I guess I'll be going now," I said. I stood. I glanced at Dixie. She spoke.

"Sit down, stud," she said. "Let my genius brother finish, at least."

"Dixie—I..."

"Shut up, lover, I mean it. And sit down. We're not through here," she said. I glared at her, but I did as she said. I was beginning to realize just what a big ass wimp I really was.

"As I was about to say, Dexter, that woman, your ex, still loves you. I know it like I know that the sun will rise in the east tomorrow," he said. "It's the little things a shrink looks for in a client that tells the tale. I didn't have a context until now. But, now it all makes perfect sense. The looks between them, the tone of voice in answer to intimate questions or otherwise offhand comments. Oh yeah, she is in the initial stages of buyer's remorse, Dex. No question about it," said Bob.

"You're full of it, Bob. Oh, she feels guilty, I guess. I could grant that—I suppose. But, really love me! No fucking way," I said. 

"Way," he said, smiling broadly.

We talked for some minutes and agreed to disagree, but on the upside a friendship had been saved—by Dixie. Also on the plus side my friendship with Dixie had been saved as well, not that it had been in any real danger, but had Bob and I not come to an understanding things might not have worked out over the long haul with me and her.

******

The fact that Dixie and I were kind of quasi-lovers and very good friends worked for me over the next weeks. We talked to each other daily. And, since I was the one with the rawest wounds it was mostly about me. I knew at some point I would be listening to her tell me about the break up with her asshole, just as she was now listening to me. I made myself a promise that when that time came that I would definitely be there for her. At any rate, for now, she was my rock, and I needed her. 

"You look to be in better spirits today, cowboy," said Dixie.

"I guess, I am," I said. "And, it's all your fault."

"Okay, I guess I'll have to do my penance," she said. "Would five Our Fathers and five Hail Marys suffice?" I laughed. 

"You are good for me," I said. Becoming serious, I said, "You know, Dixie, you've helped me enormously. But—I should be helping you too. I know you're hurting every bit as much as I am."

"You help me," she said. "Just being there for me is a huge help."

"And, I am there for you, Dix, I really am. Just say the word and I'm there." She smiled and nodded.

"I know. 

"I have some news," she said.

"Oh?" I said.

"You remember the barbecue, right?" she said.

"How could I forget it?" I said.

"Yes, well, silly question. Anyway, I asked around. You know, people where your ex and asshole work talk when they drink. A couple of them are regulars at Momma's. I engaged a couple of them in a little gossip and stuff. Dwight's divorce will be final almost the same time as yours and Tiffany's: in three more weeks," she said.

"And, his wife, Letitia, is stunned by his betrayal of her. I know because I went and asked her?" she said.

"You went to her and asked her that?" I said, surprised. "To her house?"

"Oh yeah," she said. "She's really stuck it to him too. She may own his—their—business before long. She's suing him for it, I mean all of it. I guess it was her dad's money that financed it. Asshole won't have a pot to piss in very soon if the cards fall right."

"Couldn't happen to a nicer asshole," I said.

The sex that night was cathartic. Dixie did know how to make a man forget, at least for a little while.

******

The divorce was final three and a half weeks later. I showed up for it and so did Tiffany. Neither Dixie nor Dwight the asshole was there. I knew Dixie couldn't make it because she actually had something to do with her brother. I of course had no knowledge of what kept asshole away. Tiffany gave me a little wave as she entered the courtroom. I raised my hand in acknowledgement, but I didn't smile, she did; that surprised me.

The proceedings were brief. The judge sounded the gavel, and I was single again, so was she. How long that remained the case was anyone's guess at that moment. I figured Tiffany and her soon to be husband wouldn't wait long, but who knew for sure.

As I was exiting the courtroom with my lawyer she came up to me. "Can we talk?" she said. I looked askance at her.

"Doesn't today's proceedings put an end to that," I said. "I mean you dumped me, now you want to talk. I don't see the point."

"Dexter, please, I won't take up much of your time. I know we haven't talked in these last months, and I think we should have," she said. "I have some things I'd like top say, and if you do—well—it might be our last chance for a long time." I nodded, reluctantly, but I nodded my okay.

"There's a coffee shop across the street; I could use a cup," I said. "Let's go over there."

We found a small table for two near the front entrance. It was trafficky, but nobody was paying attention to us.

We sipped our coffee and I waited to hear what she wanted to talk about.

"Dex, I guess you know his divorce will be final in two more weeks?" She watched to see if I actually did know. 

"No, I didn't. I guess I knew it would be soon, but not exactly when," I said.

"Dex, I have been sick at heart at how you and I came to an end. I just had to see you and talk about it. If you need to leave, I mean if this is too much, if this is just me trying to make me feel better, and I hope it's not, just tell me," she said.

"Tiff, I'm sick about it too. I don't know why you came to the point where you couldn't keep our original agreement to let nothing come between us. I knew from the git-go that this fantasy stuff might be a problem, and I think I said so, as I recall. But, you swore it wouldn't. But it did, didn't it," I said. She nodded.

"I never saw it coming, Dex. I fell in love with him; and, I was still in love with you as well. I wanted to ease you into it, I mean the breakup. You know see if you wanted—what you wanted—really. I didn't get the chance. As you saw; he short shanked me. And, now it's too late," she said. She was beginning to tear-up. I reached across the table and took her hand. 

"Tif, I hated you for a while there for what I saw as you selling me out for a bigger cock. But, Dwight is smooth. He had me convinced too. I never saw it coming either. He was such a nice guy, that is, until he stabbed me in the back. And, the way I see it you did too. You may be in love with him, but Tif, you do not belong with him. Maybe not with me either, but not him," I said. She was crying now and people were beginning to notice.

"Dex, I still want to be friends," she said. I want to see you around. You know, be able to talk to you without hate or anger or jealousy coming between us. I need to have you in my corner still, and I don't care how ridiculous that sounds," she said.

"Tiffany, I don't think I can bend that much. I don't hate you anymore, I guess, but that's about all I can promise, at least for now. We meant everything to each other once, and then you betrayed me; that was and is just too overwhelming for me," I said. "Asshole is your man now; he isn't going to be wanting you talking or being anything to me; he owns you; I can see it."

"Dwight? Hell, no he doesn't own me! I can assure you of that. This is about you and me not him anyway. I will treat him right, and we will marry. I do love him. But, I will not let him cut you off from me or me from you. Can you believe that at least?" she said. 

"No," I said. "I can't see it." I was beginning to cry myself. Talk about maudlin moments. She shook her head and muttered something I didn't catch; I didn't ask her to repeat it.

We talked a little longer about the future. Dixie came up in the conversation once or twice and Tiffany wished me happiness if I went that way; and then we parted. The future was to still to be played out, and it was about to take some strange turns along the way. What was strangest of all was the sense that we still had very strong feelings for each other that would not be denied even with her being in love with asshole.

******

After my meeting with Tiffany, I was melancholy for days. I began to realize that I had to start getting on with my life and to close the chapter with Tiffany once and for all—easier said than done. Dixie was my rock. She held me and consoled me and fucked me to a state of serious groinal pain.

It was maybe three months later that she, Dixie, had had enough. 

"Will, it's time you listened to me, now," she said. "And, it is time for you to get a grip and wake up to the future. Okay?" she said. At that moment I had an epiphany, I realized that I had been totally selfish, that this wonderful woman that had been holding my hand for so long needed exactly the same thing that I had been needing. I would give that to her and anything else she required. It was on me now.

"Dix, I'm sorry. I have been a complete nunutchka! But no more, tell me," I said.

"We were in love Latimer Crawford and I. We were married. Married for nine years. No children. He cheated. He cheated with our housekeeper. He came home one night and told me that he needed to ask me for a divorce. He was actually crying. I think it was because he was hurting me. He was hurting me, and he couldn't help himself. I actually felt sorry for him. We divorced. He married her: some twenty-something teenie bopper. That was two years ago. I haven't seen nor heard from him since then. I think that was her wish, I mean that he not see me ever again," she said. "The pain has never gone away, has never left me."

"Jesus," I said. "Well, I definitely know how you feel. I've been there. But, in my case it was the lover that delivered the crusher, not my wife. Oh, she was in on it, but she wanted to break it to me gently; he on the other hand wanted it over and done with. He stole her from me, just as your husband's lover stole him from you," I said. "We're sure a pair aren't we?"

We were sitting together in my living room. I dimmed the lights. "Let's go to bed, Dix. I need to hold you. I need to protect you as you have protected me. Honest to God I don't know how I would have survived without you, and I can imagine that you need the same kind of support. I'm here for you Dix, I am," I said.

******

Bob Morrison was not going to sit idly by and watch a friendship go by the boards or develop a possible rift with his sister either. Not being the village idiot, he decided he had to do something to change the situation if he could, and he was confident that he could. Being a psychologist was a big advantage for him. He couldn't actually read minds, but he could predict with some degree of accuracy how others were likely to react to certain pressures and stimuli. He was about to bring all of his biggest guns to bear on the situation.

The situation, or, more accurately, the situations? His sister still loved her ex-husband. His best friend still loved his ex-wife. Dex and Dix had, he knew, helped each other to adjust to the loss of their significant others; but they were not meant to be together over the long haul. Reconciliations with their respective ex's? Maybe. He was about to dare the undareable.

The lady was the first to arrive. She was tentative. "Uh—Mr. Morrison? I don't know about this. My divorce is barely in the history books," said Letitia Williams.

"Letitia, you and I have talked about this for the past several days. The man I intend for you to meet knows your situation, he knows you're a black lady—he's seen your picture , and it's all systems go. Just play it by ear. He needs a woman, you need a friend; he's very much suited to you, at least on paper. Whether there is actually chemistry between you, well, I'll have to let the two of you decide as to that; but I think you both have reason to at least see if the fit is a good one," said Bob. She nodded. 

"Okay," she said.

"Do you think the others will come," said Letitia. "Do the two D's know what's in store for them?" He laughed.

"There'll be fifty people here within the hour. But, as to your meaning, all I can say is I hope so," he said, knitting his brow. "And no, they don't have a clue. The only ones in the know are you and I."

******

I hadn't heard from Dixie for a couple of days. Not a biggee. There had been other times over the past months that I hadn't seen her for a day or two. I knew I likely would at the barbecue that Bob had planned for today. The last one hadn't gone so well for me, but I had hopes that Dixie would make this one a better one for the both of us.

"Hi, Bob," I said, as I came through the gate. "Looks like you're all set up. Can I help with anything?"

"Hey Dex, glad you could make it. You can man the grill, if you want," said Bob. "You'll be rotated out after a short time. 

"Here, I think you know Letitia," said Bob, he was smiling. 

"Sure bet," I said. "Hello, Letitia, this is a surprise. I didn't know you knew Bob."

"I didn't," she said. "He contacted me? He has someone for me to meet." I looked her askance, but didn't pursue it; I would later, with Bob.

"Dixie gonna be here? I haven't seen her for a couple of days, and she didn't answer her phone this morning," I said.

"Yeah, she'll be here. She had to go to our mom's the day before yesterday to help her with stuff. She said she tried to call you. You must've been out," said Bob.

"Yeah. I guess. I have been out some. Well, no biggee. If she's gonna be here, we'll figure it out then," I said.

"Talking about me?" said Dixie, sashaying in through the gate I'd just come through. I went to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek; she returned it.

Bob, you look a little somber," I said. "Hope nothing's wrong," I said.

"No, no. Nothing's wrong. We're just waiting for the other guests to arrive," he said. 

As if on cue, The guests did start arriving, and that in large numbers.

I had taken over the grill, but at some point, a fellow named Melvin had rotated me outta there.

Couple after couple had come through the gate. Soon the large backyard and the game room adjacent to the pool were teeming with people. I knew some of them, but most not. Dixie had my arm as we meandered among the guests. As it turned out, she did know most of them.

I was returning with drinks for us when I saw Dixie, across the yard, go gray in the face and virtually freeze. I followed her gaze to a man just coming into the yard. He stood frozen there as well.

"Hello, Dixie," said the stranger now to her. I knew immediately it had to be her ex. I knew she still loved him. I was no fool. She was my friend, even my bed partner, but this had been the love of her life. I went up to them.

Dixie was flustered. "Uh—Latimer—this is—is-..."

"Dexter," I said. "Dixie and I are friends. I don't even have to ask. You're Mr. Latimer Crawford unless I miss my guess."

"I am, yes," he said. I handed each one of the drinks that I had intended for Dixie and me.

"I'll just mosey around while you two get—uh—reacquainted," I said.

I watched, unobtrusively from a distance, as Dixie and her ex talked. They were looking serious. She nodded and said something to him. She turned and walked over toward me. "He wants to take me somewhere and talk to me," she said.

"Dixie, go for it. But, be sure before you commit to anything," I said. "You and I have talked long and hard about this possibility. Right?"

"You won't feel bad my abandoning you?" she said.

"Absolutely not. I want to see you happy. But—I do want you to be careful. I mean..." I said.

She kissed me on the lips. "Thank you, Dex, you're the best," she said. I headed over to Bob who was being held in thrall by two women.

"Well, Bob, it looks like I've lost my anchor, at least for today" I said. "Got any more like her to keep me company?"

"You never know," he said. I looked at him and knitted my brow? He shrugged. I remembered that I'd wanted a drink, but had given mine to Latimer. I headed back over to the mini-bar. I was talking to the man mixing the drinks when I heard my name called.

I turned around, "Tiffany!" I said. I was startled. I looked around, but I didn't see him."

"He's not here, Dex," she said. I narrowed my eyes.

"Where is he?" I said. 

"He's not coming, Dex. We broke up. It was a mistake. The marriage never happened. He, as it turns out, has a couple of other—lovers—on the side that he neglected to tell me about. I'm just glad I didn't make the mistake of marrying him," she said.

"Why are you here, Tif? I mean really," I said.

"Well, Bob invited me, but I almost didn't come. He said there was somebody he wanted me to meet. Somebody who'd been recently divorced and was hurting. Somebody, I hurt," she said, looking down.

I think my mouth was hanging open. "Me?" I said, pointing to myself. "Bob did that!"

She smiled sheepishly. "Yes sir," she said, "he did. 

"I was a fool, Dex. I think I knew it even then. Anyway, if you feel uncomfortable with any of this..."

"I feel uncomfortable as hell, Tif, and I'm not kidding," I said. Her smile faded.

"Oh," she said, "I'm sorry, I'll just go. I didn't mean to—" My turn to smile.

"No, no, Tif. It's just that my hardon is in the wrong position in my pants. If you'd just move a little to the left there and cover me so I can fix it," I said.

She broke out into the biggest smile I think she ever had. "The heck with that, buster. Suffer," she said. She put her arms around me and kissed me deeply. Bob had suddenly come over; I hadn't seen him.

"You two need to get a room. There's one down the hallway on the right," he said. "There's a lock on the door too." He meandered away.

Without so much as a word between us, I took her hand and led her into the house.

******

"Howard Miller, this is Letitia Williams. Letitia, Howard," said Bob.

"Nice day," said Howard. Letitia broke out in an out of control horse laugh.

"Is that your best line?" she managed, while trying to catch her breath.

Howard looked down. "Uh—I guess," he said.

"Well then, I guess that we may get along fine," she said. She did not try to hide her laughter.

******

I shut the door behind me. "Well," I said, "and what do we do now?" I was smiling big and wide.

"I can think of a couple of things. I mean if you're into them," she said.

"Like?" I said. 

"Well, we could make out and talk and stuff?" she said.

"Make out? You mean like teenagers?" I said.

"Kinda. Maybe a little more advanced," she said. "Hmm, actually, maybe way more advanced."

"I can do that," I said. Just then the door slammed open.

"Dwight!" screamed Tiffany. His timing could not have been worse, but on the other hand I had to admit seeing him at that moment, his purpose clear, was more exciting for me than sex would have been with Tiffany—well almost.

"So this is the meeting you had today," said Dwight.

"Dwight—you know we are quits," she said. "We talked about this."

"No you talked about it. We aren't quits. Certainly not on wimpy's account," he said.





Tiffany and Dexter



"What did you say, Dwightee baby," I said. He glowered at me.

"Yeah, I know all about your history as a bouncer, wimpy," he said. "But, you know as well as I do that a good big man will always trump a good little man in any kind of serious argument, and I'm a real good big man. So, shut the fuck up while I talk to my woman."

"Your woman has dumped you, 'real good big man'," I said.

"No-no-no," he said. "She's just a little confused; you know, feeling sorry for her ex-little man," he said. "You know—you!" I smiled. Mentally, I was promising the gods of war human sacrifice for this opportunity.

I took the two steps, that I needed to take to interpose myself between Tiffany and an obviously soon to be real upset ex-lover. "I'm sorry, but you're leaving," I said.

Now it was Dwight's turn to smile. "I don't think so, wimpy," he said. He closed on me. He sent a haymaker my way via snail mail. I stepped into him and my short quick uppercut stunned him for a full two or three seconds; it was enough. I followed that with a left hook to the lower ribcage and followed that with right hook to the lower jawline. She staggered. Setting himself, his face was a mask of hate.

I was calm and patient. He threw a couple of air-jabs my way and I didn't even move. He rushed me. I met him with a half dozen alternating right-lefts to the pan of the face. Bleeding from the eyebrows, nose, and lip his face was covered with blood. He swore.

"Not bad for a little man," he said, finally

. "But not good enough." He came at me again. I side-stepped him and fired a kick at the side of his knee; it buckled and he went down.

"When you gonna land something, good big man," I said.

"Fuck you!" he yelled. He tried to get up but his left leg would not support the effort; he stumbled backward and down against the dresser. The fight was over. 

"Guess you were wrong, good big man," I said. All of a sudden twenty faces appeared in the room and in the corridor outside.

"Dex! Are you okay," said a breathless Bob. 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine, but humpty isn't," I said. "He had a great fall."

"The cops are on their way," said Bob.

They hauled my nemesis off in cuffs. He'd spend the night in jail, make bail in the following A.M. And, get seriously drunk in the aftermath. Well, why the hell not; I'd been there same as him. The difference was I hadn't stolen another man's wife.

******

Epilog:

Dixie and Latimer reunited, but Dixie was holding off letting him remarry her until she was sure that they could make a go of it once more. She was, however, optimistic. I thought that she was doing good; she was going slow as I had advised her.

Letitia and Howard were dating. Time would tell on that one, but they sure looked good together.

Dwight's humiliation was total. He especially found it difficult to come to grips with the fact that one of his women had dumped him. That coupled with his set-to with her wimpy ex-husband, me, was beyond enduring, but his realistic options were nil.

As for me and Tiffany? We still have our fantasies, and sometimes we act them out, but never more than once with an individual. We would never again allow ourselves to become embroiled with another situation like our last. Re-marriage? Not yet, but maybe, probably, soon.

The End



Tiffany and Her Daddy Fuck



Shortly after Tiffany's 18th birthday, she slowly started to notice her daddy in a different way. At first, she only admired his muscles as he worked out. Then it manifested into something short of an obsession. Whenever he would go in the pool, she would watch him and touch her pussy. Then she would move to the pool house to get off. Tiffany's mom had left them shortly after giving birth to Tiffany, so she didn't worry about a mother getting in the way of her need.

It was during the summer after the first year of university that Tiffany started to try to get her daddy to notice her. Parading around in the tightest skirts or the shortest shorts. Bending over at every opportunity. Showing off her tan, bald pussy. She knew he noticed it and was affected by her because one night when they were watching a movie, she sat on his lap with her feet to the side, spread her legs and ground her ass into him. She could feel him getting hard underneath her. So she giggled and pressed her double D cups to his chest. She was an expert at seducing. She was the farthest thing from a virgin but no boy compared to her daddy in her eyes.

One hot summer day, Tiffany knew her daddy was getting ready for his after workout swim, so she quickly yanked off her clothes, put on her American flag bikini that barely covered her tits or her ass and laid down on one of the sun bathing chairs. She tossed on her black tinted sun glasses and pretended to sleep. 

Tiffany heard her dad exit through the patio doors. She heard him walk to her, stop and inhaled a quic, breath. He then left and by the sounds of it, dived into the pool. Her daddy was fairly fit with well defined six pack and nice arms. She loved him.

After a while, she heard him exit the pool and head inside where she could hear him turning on the shower. She quickly ran over to the bathroom door and could hear him softly moaning and grunting while muttering "Yeah baby. Take that cock. Take it." She smiled. She finally could act.

She left to her room while she waited for him to take his nap that he always took after the shower. It was his routine. After the silence arrived, she quickly undressed and skipped into her daddy's room, her titties bouncing in sync. She stopped at the foot of the bed and watched his chest rise and fall in steady paces. She could tell he was naked underneath because the sheet had fallen down to just below his V-line. 

She hopped onto the bed softly and straddled daddy's legs. She liked her lips as she saw the tent he was making. She slowly rolled down the sheets and gasped in delight at the huge fucking dick in front of her. She grabbed it greedily into her hands and started to gently rub up and down with her hands. In his sleep state, she heard him moan softly. She smiled.

Tiffany lowered her head down onto his shaft and brought it down her throat. It tasted great she thought. He moaned some more so she went faster. Moving her mouth and hands at an even faster rate, he became louder and began to talk.

"Ah yes Tiff baby. Lick it for daddy. Daddy needs you. Ahhh yesss. TIFFANY!! Oh you're so good. Pump it faster!"

She followed his unconscious commands. Suddenly, his body started thrashing about. His eyes blinked open.

"Tiffany baby I'm cumming! Make your daddy cum! Ahh yes your daddy's whore!"

Slowly, his eyes found hers and he gasped. 

"Tiffany! What are you doing?! We shouldn't be doing this!"

She smiled wickedly. "Daddy, you didn't think that I few minutes ago. In fact, you seemed to be cheering me on," she pouted, "don't you think it's time you made me cum?"

He stuttered but she had already began moving up her body. She directed his dick to her tight hole then slowly sank onto it. She gritted her teeth and said "Daddy it's your turn to take control. I'm yours. Fuck me. Fuck me hard."

He then flipped her over and started to pump into her. His hands gripped her titties and tweeted her nipples. He brought his mouth down and roughly bit into then them. She cried out.

"Daddy! Harder! Fuck me harder and punish me because I'm a slut!"

He began to push so fast and harder then she thought possible and not too long later she was screaming his name in pleasure.

"AHHH DADDY! MAKE ME COME! FUCK! YOUR DICK IS SO GOOD!"

He replied with his own, "TIFFANY I'M GOING TO COME. I'M GOING TO COME IN YOU SWEETHEART."

Tiffany screamed has he pumped his seed into her and forcefully brought her mouth to his. She sucked on his tongue like her life depended on it. After their climax, he pulled out of her and she slid down his now covered in sweat body. She liked his massive dick clean and purred. 

"Daddy, I still don't think your clean enough. Why don't we take a shower? Come to think of it, my asshole needs cleaning. Maybe... You can use your magic wand and help me out?"

He smiled and pulled her up into his arms, then walked out the bathroom.



Tiffany and Marcus



This story builds slowly, but life sometimes does. The chapters that will follow will build on the beginning.

I come from a really good home. Both my parents love me very much. I was raised with values. My older sister loves me and we have gotten along pretty good most of our lives.

Nonetheless, I was an insecure teenager. I always had my own style, kind of funky. I dressed differently than the other kids, and I liked it. But I was never secure in those choices. Still, I couldn't make any other choices. I loved art and drama. That made me different as well. I was an odd combination of a determination to follow my own path and a desire to be accepted.

I wasn't beautiful, and I am still not. I had a cute figure, nice hips but small breasts. That's still the same. I'm pale of complexion with blonde hair. My classmates never thought of me as hot or pretty.

Then, in my junior year, I agreed to help a local photographer promote his business by posing for pictures and passing out copies of his cards to my classmates. Apparently, it was a good system for him. He had utilized it for years with lots of kids. And I thought it would be lots of fun. The photographer was a friend of my dad, so I felt really comfortable.

On the day of my shoot, my mom, my older sister and her boyfriend came with me. Marcus, the photographer said that I could have one or two people in the session with me, whatever made me feel relaxed. Too many people in the session were a distraction, he said. Part of the experience was for us to get to know one another. I chose my sister, who is an artist and quite interested in photography. That left my mom and my sister's boyfriend together alone. That was scary, but I didn't care.

I was really nervous at first, but Marcus made me feel really at ease. As he shot more and more photos, I calmed down. He kept saying how great the images were. We talked while we shot. He told me about his life and experiences and asked me about mine. We really connected. I just kind of acted like myself, like I would in front of the mirror. He loved it and was very excited about the images we were creating.

He told me I was fabulous and wonderful and beautiful. No one outside my family had ever told me those things. My sister liked him, too. He shared his artistic experiences with her and gave her tips for her photography. She thought he was cool, too. The whole experience was fabulous for both of us.

When the session was over, Marcus walked us to his receptionist to make the appointment to view the finished images. As we walked, Marcus touched me in the middle of my back, directing me in the proper direction. When he touched me, I felt a charge go through me. It was electric. He didn't seem to notice, but it made me tingle.

After the details were complete, we said our goodbyes. I couldn't resist, I hugged Marcus and pressed my breasts into him. It felt so good. He hugged me back, released me and told me I was wonderful. I felt wonderful.

We had stayed after hours, so Marcus had to walk us to the main door and let us out. I wanted to hug him again, but it seemed to be excessive. Still, I touched him on his shoulder. I felt the electricity again. He smiled and touched my cheek. I shivered, but he didn't see. He told me again how fabulous I was. I sighed. I was a very quiet girl then. I hoped my smile told him all he needed to know.

I've always been close to my dad, but I have never had a connection with a male outside my family like I established with Marcus that day.

He made me look sexy and feel sexy, without being creepy or coming on to me. He just brought out what was on the inside. He was very adult and kept the appropriate boundaries, but I fell for him anyway. It wasn't fair to him, and it wasn't right for me, but I feel in love with my photographer.

I tried to ignore it. I kept up with my school obligations; student council, French club, pep club. I participated in the social life of my school. I was involved in the drama club presentations. I went to prom with a boy my age. But I couldn't get Michael out of my mind.

My dad and mom urged me to go out on dates and have a social life. And I did. It was a small school, so dating my classmates was like dating my brother. Still, I went out with the few guys who asked. I was weird enough that not many asked. But I tried hard to be a regular teenager.

Being a rep for Marcus, I was allowed to have as many photo sessions as I wanted for free, before a set date. I don't think he ever imagined a rep would do eight sessions over the course of junior and senior years, but I did. I just called and scheduled a session when I was feeling inadequate or when I was feeling ignored at school. I scheduled a session when I got tired of being pawed by my classmates. I scheduled a session when I wanted to feel special.

Every session, Marcus made me feel unique. He used his newest backgrounds and props. He knew I could never get enough referrals to pay for the time he invested in me. Still, he took the time. And our connection got stronger and stronger. It was all very appropriate, but we knew we had a bond.

Marcus acknowledged the bond, but was honorable enough not try to take advantage of me. Although, I was beginning to think I might want him to do so.

We came up with great images. I graduated and he was there, taking pictures and talking me up to my family. Every time he touched me and we hugged, I felt the fire run through me. Because of him, I started to masturbate. I imagined him holding me close. I never wanted any of those teenage boys to put themselves in me, but I imagined his hard cock up inside my tight pussy, and I fingered myself to the thought of it often.

Over this time, about 18 months, I felt like I grew up a lot, matured both physically and mentally. When it was time for me to go to college, I was ready. My only regret was that I was no longer going to be able to call up Marcus for a session, to be with him, to feel the special way he made me feel, to feel the spark that I felt every time he touched me and when he photographed me.

I called and asked for one more session. I lied and said that I needed a portfolio for modeling. Marcus had referred me to agencies because he thought I had the look. I guess I didn't think so, because I didn't pursue it. But I used it as an excuse to be photographed one more time. I worked it out so that his staff wouldn't be around during the shoot. They trusted me not to cause a problem for him. I wasn't going to cause a problem, I just wanted to fuck him.

I had a plan. I knew I couldn't just say," I'm tired of waiting, just stick it up in me."

I only brought three outfits, but Marcus still questioned me. "Tiffany, we have done hundreds of pictures. How come we can't pull a portfolio from what we have already done?"

"Marcus, I am leaving for college in two weeks. I am a different girl than I was the first time we had a session. I got my hair cut recently. But more important, I feel different. And, honestly, I love doing this with you."

"Okay, let's do this thing. Turn on like you always do." We connected on so many levels, we both knew we were going to get great images. Of course, my mom and I had a hard time choosing my senior pictures. Narrowing over 300 pictures to our favorite 15 was hard. And my dad hated most of the ones I loved. It took a long time to come to an agreement. But they spent a lot of money.

This shoot wouldn't be so tough, because it wasn't about the images for me, it was about the experience.

My first outfit was a pair of low-rise jeans and a crop top. I made sure the jeans were amazingly low rise. From the back, you could see my ass crack. From the front, they were almost down to my pubic hair. It had to be obvious that I had no panties on. That was my intention. I wanted him to go crazy.

Marcus had some new backgrounds for the upcoming season, but he tried them on me. I showed my ass to him. I posed in very provocative poses. I bent over forward and showed my ass. I pulled the top up and down, doing everything but showing my nipples. Marcus just kept on doing his creative thing. He never missed a beat, the consummate professional. I wanted to break that veneer in a special way.

My next outfit was a bikini. The briefs were the briefest. The top was just a couple of patches to cover my nipples. I couldn't believe how cool he was. I was damn near naked, and he just created his amazing images. I did the runway walk. We worked together to created images that were quite interesting.

I tried to be very sexy. I copied the poses I had seen in magazines and on the Victoria Secret website. Marcus adjusted poses as usual. I know he was trying to make sure I didn't look slutty, although slutty was just how I was feeling at that moment. I bent forward with my arms pushing my breasts together to try to make some cleavage, which I really don't have. I put my hands in my hair and arched my back. I tried everything I could think of, and Marcus suggested lots of cool poses. He was getting into it. I hoped he was getting into me.

He was always complimentary during the sessions. He wanted to pump you up and give you confidence. He said that it came through in the pictures. This time was no different. His comments ranged from, "Wow, Tiff, you are amazing!" to "Utterly cool," to "Really sexy," to "Ohmigod!" I think he was genuinely impressed.

Although it was summer, it wasn't hot in the studio. Still, I was working up a sweat. I was posed facing the camera, hands on hips with one hip popped when I felt a bead of sweat begin to trickle down between my breasts. Marcus must have seen it through the viewfinder, because he said, "Wow! Now that is sexy!" I laughed and blushed a little, which made him laugh.

"Okay, that's it for the bikini," he said. "You've got one more, right?"

"Yup. I'll go change," I said.

My last outfit was the most risqué. I had bought a sheer white bed jacket that tied at the waist. I had removed the sewn in bra so that my bare breasts would be clearly visible through the almost transparent fabric. I paired that with boy-cut panties, also white. After I dressed, I looked in the mirror. You could definitely see my bare breasts and my hardening nipples. The tight panties revealed my camel toe. Looking from behind, my ass cheeks hung out from the high cut panties. If this didn't make him horny, either he was dead, or I wasn't nearly as sexy as I thought. Still, I was horny, anyway. I could feel the moisture between my legs.

It was now or never. I took a deep breath and stepped into the camera room.

Marcus did a double take. Maybe I was hot, after all.

"That's, um, ah...really sexy. Tiffany you are beautiful," he said. "You don't think it's a little too revealing? It's going to be hard to be discreet."

"I don't really want to be discreet. I want to show off, to show my stuff," I replied.

"You have been showing your stuff. With this outfit, you can't hide your stuff. I don't think your parents would approve."

"I'm 18, leaving for college soon, and can make my own decisions. I'm doing this for me, well, and for you. Let's make some sexy pictures," I declared.

"If you're game, I guess I am too," he answered.

He posed me next to his north facing window, in front of a white satin curtain. I knelt and sat back on my heels. I didn't look at the camera. I just looked up and off out the window. I turned my shoulders to the camera so Marcus could see my tits better. I could feel my nipples stiffening. He gave me small instructions and I responded. I added my own flair. I started to slip the jacket down over my shoulders to show them bare. I parted the jacket so that the space between my breasts showed. I touched my cheek. I crossed my arms under my breasts. Finally, I untied the belt, dropped the jacket down and showed my bare breasts to the camera, to Marcus.

This was a unique experience. I hadn't been naked in front of anyone else since freshman phys ed, much less intentionally showing my small breasts to Marcus. It made me wetter.

Eventually, I tossed the jacket aside and just began to parade my small breasts with their hard nipples in front of the camera. I copied poses AI had seen in Playboy. I laid on my back and played with my breasts. I squeezed my nipples and they got harder, if that was possible. I pulled the waist band of panties up hard so that the fabric parted my pussy lips. I was so hot and wet. I was ready.

Marcus leaned in close for a shot and I said, "Put the camera down."

"What?"

"Put the camera down."

"Okay. Have we gone too far?"

"No," I said, "we need to go further." I stood and stepped into him, put my arms around his neck and kissed him as passionately as I could. The electricity ran through my entire body. My pussy began to tingle. I thought I might cum just from that.

At first, he resisted. Then I felt him relax and open his mouth to accept my tongue. I took his face in my hands and pressed his lips to mine. I was standing in his embrace, nude except for my now damp panties, deeply kissing my photographer.

When we paused to breathe, he said, "Tiffany, you are so sexy and so hot. What is going on? You are making me want you in a way that is not really appropriate."

I kept my arms around his neck and pressed my pussy up against the growing bulge in his jeans. "Marcus, I really want you. I'm about to go to college and I am still a virgin. I never wanted any of those dumb high school boys. And I don't want my first time to be with some drunken frat boy after a party my freshman year of college. I want to give my virginity to someone I love and care about; someone who cares about me, someone I can respect and someone who won't think I'm a slut after. I trust you and I love you. I want to give myself to you because you will take me gently and lovingly. I want you to take me into my womanhood. Please."

He sighed. "You have me at a disadvantage. It's hard to say no to a beautiful young girl who wants me. I've come to care about you a lot. Still, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't had lustful thoughts about you. I never thought I'd admit it, but I have. If you're sure you want this, I will share this special experience with you. Actually, I haven't had sex in a couple of years, so it might be like you doing a high school kid."

"You are wonderful." I unbuttoned his shirt and ran my finger through his chest hair. He stroked my hair, my back and my ass. I unbuckled his pants and unzipped them. I put my hands down his underwear and touched his hard penis. I pulled it out so I could see it. I hadn't ever seen a man's penis much less touched one. I had seen them on the Internet. I had hoped his wasn't the monster things I had seen in pornos. Once exposed, I realized it was manageable. Marcus dropped his pants and I took his shirt off. Now he was the one totally exposed.

I marveled at the shape of his totally extended penis. I felt the veins and ridges of it. I imagined the effect all that would have inside my pussy. I stroked and stroked him. He got harder and longer. Maybe he could achieve porno dimensions. I hoped not.


Marcus walked me to the fainting couch he used for posing and laid me down. He kissed me deeply. He nibbled on my ears, which sent me off. He kissed my neck. Then he worked his way down to my breasts. He gently fondled my breasts, squeezing and stroking until he took one of my nipples into his mouth. He sucked and licked it and I swooned. His mouth on my nipples sent me over the edge. I came. He didn't stop.

Marcus descended to the landing strip of pubic hair I had left above my pussy. He licked my pussy lips and sucked them into his mouth. I got wetter. When he sent his tongue between my pussy lips, I thought I was going to explode. When he put his tongue on my clit, the world seemed to move. He sucked on it and licked it. He took my clit totally into his mouth and I came. And I came. And I came. My pussy juices exploded over his mouth and filled his beard. I bucked and rocked. I whined and moaned. Marcus had brought me to an orgasm I had never experienced. This was nothing like the timid probing and rubbing I had done to myself. He took my special parts into his mouth and literally sucked me off.

After the waves had subsided, Marcus kissed his way up my body, pausing to pay special attention to my small breasts and my hard nipples. He kissed me on the lips and I could feel his hard cock against my wet, waiting pussy lips. Now was the time, I was ready to have that dick slammed into my virgin pussy.

Marcus placed the head of his rock hard penis at the mouth of my spreading pussy lips and began to ease it in. I spread my legs to open up for him. His cock felt so good as he entered me. Finally, he hit the barrier. "Take me," I said and he pushed his cock past my virgin barrier. The pain was momentary and then I felt Marcus deep inside me. He began to pump his hardened cock in and out of me and the pain was forgotten. I started to match his thrusts. I drove my pussy up to bring his hard cock deeper and deeper with each thrust. Marcus began to breathe more and more deeply, then he thrust his cock as deep inside me as he could and held it there. And he shot his load inside me, throbbing and shooting his essence inside me. That's all it took for me to come again. I screamed as my pussy milked the last of his juices up inside me.

As the pulses of my orgasm subsided, I knew that I was now fully a woman. And I wanted more. I wanted to fuck more...a lot more.



Tiffany & Roger Ch. 1



Roger thought for a while before he made a decision. He had a great weekend with Tiff, but wasn't sure he should stay or not. He still had plenty of vacation left, and didn't need to be anywhere else.

He looked deep into her eyes, and saw the combination of need and hunger reflected there. She had told him how hard things had been, raising her boy by herself, dealing with the world as a single mom. He had come to care a lot about her, through her letters, and the sex charged weekend they just shared brought out another side of her that he really liked, too.

Tiffany put her hand on his arm, and asked again, "Will you stay with me, for a little while, please?"

Roger reached out, and shut down the bike, set the stand, and dismounted. "Okay, Tiff. I'll give it a try."

She flung her arms around him, and kissed him hot. "Come inside for a minute, and let me talk to Mom for a little bit."

About that time, her boy came running out of Grandma's house to greet his Mom. She picked him up and kissed him, asking how his visit was. Roger followed them into the farmhouse, still wondering what was going to happen.

They had sandwiches and coffee, and Tiff got her mother to agree to keep the young man for a few more days. They said their good-byes, and Tiffany went with Roger to get the bike ready for another ride. It didn't take long to put her pack back in the sidecar, and Roger had the thumping beast fired up in no time. They left Grandma's house, and Tiff directed the route they were to follow.

It wasn't long, that Roger recalled the way to Tiffany's house, and pulled in without further direction. He assumed she wanted to get something from the house, and left the throbbing machine idling while she approached the large Ranch style house. He was a little surprised when she appeared at the slowly opening garage door. She waved him in, and curiosity made him drive the bike into the open bay.

Tiffany's all wheel drive SUV took up part of the spotless garage, and the walls were lined with lots of garden type tools. Quite different from Roger's "toy box", that contained mechanic and welding equipment, as well as a few project bikes. Tiffany was grinning as she lowered the door behind him.

"If it's okay, I'd like to hang here a little?" she asked.

"I'm good with that." He answered. He shut down the bike, and locked it, then followed Tiff's little cheerleader's body into the house.

They walked into a medium sized kitchen, then through a large living room to the back of the house. They passed by the carnage that was obviously the ten-year-old's "cave". Tiff quickly closed that door, and led Roger to the room she used as her home office / guestroom. 

"I `play' a lot in here, we can put your gear in here. Okay?" she began. She got a sheepish look on her face as she continued, "In case Mom comes over?" It was more of a question than a statement, but Roger understood.

"That's fine, Tiff. We can play that way, if you get visitors. I know how it can be, really."

"That's what I like so much about you. You REALLY do know things, Roger. Not like some people I've met." She wrapped herself around him and pushed her soft tongue deep into his mouth. Roger responded with his own tongue thrusts, and before they realised it, they were both naked. Roger backed them over to the leather office chair, and gently put Tiffany's butt on the edge. He broke the hot kiss, and began to nibble down her nude body. She moaned softly as his lips closed around her swollen nipples. She could feel the wetness building between her thighs, and spread them wider while Roger knelt between them.

She already knew that his favorite thing to do was "kissing on kitty" as he called it. Tiffany liked the way he said things sexual, without being crude. She arched her back in anticipation as she felt his hot breath near her swollen, wet mound. His tongue felt like a branding iron as it touched her erect clitoris. Shock waves coursed through her body when he swirled his soft flesh around the sensitive nubbin.

Roger felt her hands grab his head, and he could tell she was going to cum quickly from his oral manipulations. He really did like to make a girl cum like that. There was something special to him about giving pleasure, before he took his own. He pushed a finger partway into her vaginal opening, and found her "spot" quickly. She did cum, and hard! Her juices gushed from the small hole, and drenched his face and fingers. He kept kissing on her lightly, until the orgasm subsided somewhat.

"Ohmigod!" she squeaked. "Ohhh.. you do that...soooo goood..!" 

"Well, you should know by now, that I want to make you feel good first!" he grinned up at her, his face glistening with her nectar.

Tiffany stood up, and led Roger around to sit on the chair. The leather cushion was covered with her juices. He took the same position she had, and Tiffany assumed the same stance he had. Her fingers wrapped around the throbbing stiffness between his legs, and she softly kissed the thick purple crown. She used the pearl like drop of pre-cum to moisten her lips, then took the flesh between her teeth. Very gently, she pushed the foreskin back with her straight, white teeth. Her tongue circled the head and Roger's erection began to disappear into Tiffany's hot, wet mouth.

Roger took her yellow hair in his fingers as he moaned softly. Her other hand cupped the heavy sac below, and she rolled the testicles gently in her palm. His breath came in short gasps as Tiffany devoured most of his eight-inch `dragon' on each downward movement of her head. It seemed she was determined to repeat the total consumption of his penis like she had at the cabin.

She was swallowing quickly each time the massive organ slipped past the back of her mouth, into her throat. It helped to get by that place that made her choke the first time she tried to take all of him. At last, she managed, her nose brushed the close trimmed hair above his penis, and she could feel his heartbeat deep in her throat. 

Tiffany pulled off for long enough to say, "I want to taste you, again. Let it cum in my mouth!" She dove back on him, taking it all in one motion, gently squeezing his testicles at the same time. Roger brushed back her silky, golden hair, and watched her use her mouth as though it were her vagina receiving the hot, throbbing penis, waiting for the release of the dragon's `fire'.

She hadn't long to wait. The shaft between her lips began to swell, and the loose sac below began to draw up. She groaned, and the vibrations rippled through Roger's groin. The pressure and the heat flowed through his belly, and he felt the fluid rising through his erection. "AAAHHHH.. TIFF!!! ... I'm ... gonnnnaa .. Ohyessss .. Here .it ..CCUUMMMMMMMMSSSSS!!!!!" He moaned as his dragon breathed its liquid fire straight down Tiffany's throat. She swallowed hard and fast so as not to lose a drop of the precious fluid that she craved. She continued to press her face hard against his belly, as the hot jets filled her, not pulling back until the last pulses diminished. Tiffany milked the last drops on to her tongue, and made a point of showing Roger the thick white puddle on her tongue, before she swallowed that, too.

Tiffany crawled up Roger's body, and met his lips with hers. They could each taste themselves on the other's mouth as they kissed hot. She leaned back and smiled broadly, "Now that we've had an appetiser, would you like to `freshen up' and have some lunch?"

"Lead the way, Tiff!" he grinned back.

She led him down a short hall into the master bedroom. Soft pastel colors, a large four poster bed, and some heavy dressers on the walls caught his eye as he followed her naked butt into the shower. The `edge' having been softened, they leisurely washed each other off under the powerful spray of hot water. Their slippery bodies rubbing against each other while the hot needles pounded their flesh.

Tiffany turned her back to Roger, and as he washed her back, she arched it to allow him to REALLY wash her butt and kitty from behind. A resurrected penis that bumped against her wet, needy vulva soon replaced his fingers. She wanted him inside her, again. She reached between her legs, and pressed the throbbing crown to her vaginal opening, then pushed back to take it in.

The sudden movement caught Roger off guard, and he fell back against the other wall of the shower booth. Tiffany followed along, never letting her prize slip from it's sheath. The result was that, Roger's butt slapped the wall, and Tiff's butt slapped his thighs and she impaled herself on the massive piece of hard flesh in the same instant.

"OOOOHHHH, YESSSSSS!!!" she cried out. "Feels sooooo goood, Roger!"

She wiggled her bum, and started to thrust herself against him. Roger regained his balance and took hold of her thin waist. He pushed her to the centre of the stall, and started to match her thrusts. Water splashed up between them each time their bodies slapped together, and they kept on until the water began to cool.

They shut the shower off, and dried with the fluffy towels Tiffany had there. Roger led his horny little playmate to the bed and lay next to her for a few moments. She began to trace his tattoos with the tips of her small hands, and started to crawl over him, eventually straddling his waist. Roger reached up a held her firm breasts in his hands, pulling gently on the swollen nipples. He could feel the heat of her sex on his belly.

Tiffany worked her kitty down over the thick, pulsing rod, and rubbed it with the moist lips of her vulva. She lay almost flat on his body, and captured his penis with her hungry hole. Sitting upright, she once again filled herself with him and initiated the lover's dance with him. Roger watched as her dark triangle of pubic fur rubbed his lower belly and her velvet sheath encased his shaft to the hilt.

Her athletic body began to shimmer with a light sweat as she worked her magic on him. Her tight, wet vagina gripped him snugly while she rubbed her clitoris on the base of his penis. 

"Wanna cum! .. Make it cum!. OH Roger! .feels so hot . Gotta CUM!!!" she chanted.

He put his fingers between their sexes, and touched her erect clitoris, thus increasing the pressure. It worked quickly, as she began to tremble and her kitty started to contract around his penis. A few more strokes and she was there. Her eyes rolled back, and her mouth opened in a silent scream. The waves of orgasm flowed through her, her pale flesh reddened with the flush, and her vagina discharged her girl cum in a river-like flow. She fell atop his chest, gasping for breath, the final shakes diminishing slowly.

"Roger," she gasped "how can you do that to me?"

"I didn't do anything but lay here for you, Tiff." He answered.

"No, I mean, make me cum like that!"

"I don't know. I guess we just fit real well together, and that's how it happens." 

"But. but YOU didn't cum yet!" she exclaimed.

"I did, back in the office room." He replied. "Don't worry about me, I cum often enough with you around!" he laughed. 

After a while, they went out to the garage, and retrieved their gear and unpacked. Tiffany went to the kitchen, and fixed a snack of cut meat, cheeses, and crackers. She carried them to the living room with a bottle of good wine. Roger found her collection of music, and put on some "easy rock" in the background. They sat and talked of places they had been and things they had done for a long time. Halfway through the second bottle of wine, they started to dance slowly.

Their nude bodies pressed tightly together as the swayed to the soft music. She wanted to keep him. He made her feel like a woman. A woman with feelings and needs that he knew how to take care of. She forgot, and didn't much care that he was twenty years older than she. His body belied his age, the trim waist, muscular arms and legs, and his magnificent penis were like those of much younger men. The difference was, that Roger knew how to use what he had, very well. Tiffany was also still in awe of his staying power and the ability to `recover' so quickly.

As she was thinking that, Roger was contemplating the amazing young woman in his arms. She had the body of a teenager, which she kept well toned. Firm breasts, thin waist, a slight bulge at her belly, and a very hot, tight kitty, that she used very well. Her desire for sex was insatiable. She showed no fear at trying anything that didn't hurt. (He didn't get into "pain" type sex, either.) And, she never stopped trying to please him. Why would such a beautiful, young, sexy girl want a worn out old biker like him?

They both realised that the music had stopped at the same time. They stood motionless in the centre of the room, looking into each other's eyes. He bent his head, and kissed her softly. Her mouth opened, and the kisses turned hot, passion flowing between them like electricity. Roger felt his penis swell between their bellies, Tiffany felt it, too.

"It's kind of late, Roger." She spoke softly, "Let's go to bed?" she asked.

"Okay, Tiff. Let's"

She turned off all the lights as they moved to the rear of the house. She turned down the bed and crawled up on "all fours". Her shapely butt raised high in the air, in invitation for a "nightcap". Roger moved up behind her on the smooth sheets, and pressed his body against her thighs.

He looked down at the submissive position the girl had taken. Her head was down on the bed, her butt high and legs spread wide. Her arms were by her sides, hands gripping her ankles, emulating a "tied" situation. Without saying a word, this gorgeous creature had just told him that she was his for the taking. Roger began to rub her soft butt, and massage her lower back, his penis resting in the cleft of her backside. Tiffany began to writhe under his gentle touch, moaning softly. The clear pre-cum began to seep from the head of his organ as he rubbed it up and down her butt. He kneaded her soft cheeks, and lowered his face to the crack. The aroma of her aroused sex spurred him on, and he licked her soft flesh, from her clitoris to her bunghole. Her sex was oozing nectar down her thighs, the outer lips parted to let the inner labia swell like a flower's petals.

Roger held his penis at her entrance, a slowly rubbed her nectar all over the tip, then pushed the pulsing rod into her waiting flesh. He felt the soft, hot membranes grip his shaft as he penetrated her little body. For Tiffany, the slowness was agonising, she wanted him IN her! She tried to push back, but a hand on the small of her back stopped her. She groaned, but remained still and silent while her lover buried all eight inches of his dragon in her hot little cave. 

When she felt his short hairs touch her butt, she mumbled into the bed, "DO MEEE!! . OHGOD. PLEASE!!!"

With that, Roger pulled all the way out. 

"NO!! . Put it innn .. meeee!!"

Once more, he plunged slowly into the needy flesh. She remained silent. He started to thrust in long, deep pushes, touching her way up in her belly. He moved his legs to change the pressure on his penis, and picked up the pace. Now, he allowed her to thrust back, and "Do" herself! She banged her tender body against his as hard as she could, until he once again gripped her waist and held her still. 

He pulled completely out, holding his penis at the right angle to drive back in the open hole. She moaned each time he emptied her body, and sighed deeply when he filled her again. He groaned and thrust hard when he felt the heat flow through his loins, burying his thick penis to the hilt as he sprayed her insides with his hot seed. She felt the hot liquid bathe her vagina, and her own release triggered, making her body go stiff. Her inner muscles contracted around him, and drew out the last of his fluid.

They fell apart on their sides, and Tiffany slowly closed her legs and turned to face him. She caressed his face and his heaving chest while he recovered his composure. A tender kiss, and a soft "Good night" preceded them falling into a deep slumber. The warm wetness between her legs felt reassuring to her. It had been a long time, before Roger, since she had felt this good.



Tiffany & Roger Ch. 2



Tiffany awoke from the deep sleep and gazed at the sleeping man beside her. It had been a long time since that happened, and the feeling between her legs told her it would continue for a while. She pulled back the covers slowly, and stared at the "morning wood" standing tall and thick at his crotch. She wanted more of that, and gently took it in her hand. It jumped at her touch and she looked to see if he was still asleep. The steady breathing told her he was, and she lowered her lips to the pulsing shaft.

The hot flesh felt strong in her mouth, the steady beat of his heart coursed through the stiff organ. She had half of Roger's eight-inch penis in her hot, warm mouth when he stirred. Tiffany stopped and checked. Roger still slept, so she continued to devour the swollen member. 

Roger felt the warm, moist pressure on his penis, as if in a dream. He opened his eyes a little, and saw the silky blonde hair of his lover moving up and down his belly. Her talented mouth was stirring his juices, but he knew he wouldn't cum until after he peed. He moved a bit, and she stopped, so he lay still and enjoyed the eager attention Tiffany was giving him.

He finally could take no more, he wanted to cum for her. He put his hand on her silky hair and softly said "Good Morning, Tiff." 

She jumped when he startled her, but smiled at him soon after. "I couldn't resist." She stated.

"Let me go relieve myself, and we can pick up where you left off, okay?"

Reluctantly, she let go of the massive penis, and allowed him to take care of it. Thoughts of her kept him stiff, and he had a little trouble, but finally managed to tame the inner pressure. He returned to the bed, and lay next to the sexy girl who had captured his desires. 

Tiffany took his semi-hard penis in hand, and quickly restored it to full erection. Once more, her hot mouth took it in, and slid it deep into her throat. Roger asked if he could have some "breakfast" too, and she laughed. She spun around, and placed her thighs on either side of his head, and lowered her kitty to his mouth. Roger could smell the aroma of her arousal, mixed with the remains of their love sharing from the night before. A heavy sexual scent, which he found quite exciting, and proceeded to apply his soft tongue to the wet, swollen flesh.

Soft moans vibrated around his penis when he centered on her erect clitoris. Her nectar flowed freely, and his penis was swelling in her hot mouth. Their releases came almost simultaneously, Tiffany's just before Roger's. Her kitty gushed its fluid, and he took all he could in his hungry mouth. Tiffany likewise received his offering with relish, cleaning his shaft with her tongue as she withdrew it from her throat. "Mmmm. That was good!" she exclaimed while licking her lips.

"You're not bad, yourself, Tiff." He commented with a grin.

They kissed and sampled themselves on each other's lips, and both agreed. They also decided that coffee was the next item to address. Walking nude through the ranch style house, they got to the kitchen, and Roger sat at the table while Tiffany made coffee. Outside the kitchen window, Roger could see the extensive gardens out back. Lush vegetation and beautiful flowers covered all he could see. Pathway meandered through the many beds of plants, and he was impressed.

"Did you do all that?" he asked, pointing out the window.

"Uh-Huh! It's what keeps me busy on lonely afternoons." She replied.

They finished coffee, and Tiffany told Roger she needed to do some work in the gardens, and she could use dome help. Roger wasn't much on working with dirt, but agreed to assist. He put on his jeans and boots, while Tiffany dressed in a tied halter top and short cut-offs with sandals. She opened the back of the garage and directed Roger to the barrow of material she needed for the flowerbeds.

After setting her up near one of the raised beds, Roger wandered around the paths admiring her handiwork. He also discovered a small gazebo with a hot tub set up inside. He went back to the first bed, and approached Tiffany from behind. She was kneeling over the edge, with her tight little butt up in the air. Not able to resist the temptation, Roger walked up as quietly as he could and put both hands on her hips.

As he rubbed his front across the back of her naked thighs, she stopped what she was doing and moaned softly.

"Hey, there! You might start something, if you keep that up!"

Roger put on a gravel voice and a contrived accent while he continued to rub her up. "Aye, me pretty! That I might be starting something you'll have to finish!"

Tiffany caught on right away, and feigned shock and fear. "Oh! No, sir, please don't hurt me! I'm just an innocent maid!"

"We'll see how innocent, me dear. Lets have a look, shall we?" He untied the halter top and let it fall into the flowers. Tiffany made like she was covering herself for protection as he spun her around. "We'll have none of that me pretty! Show me what's there!"

As meekly as she could pretend, she lowered her hands, exposing her small breasts to the "pirate".

He placed his rough hands on the soft flesh, and squeezed them. She gasped as he tweaked her nipples and took one between his teeth.

"OH, sir! You mustn't..I can't have this happen to me!" she protested. Roger grabbed her by the slim waist and pulled her to him.

"Aye, this will happen, and much more you'll see!" He growled in his best leer.

Tiffany's eyes were sparkling in anticipation for the rest of the game. She had to concentrate on her "part" even though she was more than willing to give in to Roger's intentions. His lips mashed on hers, and she felt his tongue forcing its way into her mouth. His hands pulled her belly close to his belt-line and he told her to kiss him "proper". Her tender lips parted, allowing his tongue to explore her hot mouth, and she returned his efforts with her own.

"Aye! That's better! Now ye need to feel of this!" he said as he placed her hand on the growing bulge in his jeans. She `resisted' while really enjoying the feel of his massive organ through the rough cloth, and knowing that it would soon fill her body.

"Have ye ever had one of these put to ye?" he asked.

"My! NO! Never has any thing like that been near me, before!" she swooned. With one hand, Roger unbuckled his pants and dropped the zipper. He thrust her hand inside, telling her to pull it out and look at it. She wrapped her small fingers around it and gently removed the dragon from its denim prison. The clear pre-cum was already seeping from the swollen tip. His full erection reached past his navel, standing at near eight inches, and almost an inch and a half wide.

Tiffany gasped in `surprise' at the sight of it, hoping he would `demand' she take it in her mouth. She caressed the hot flesh, and worked the loose foreskin up and down the shaft. She didn't resist when she felt his hand on her head push her to he knees.

"Taste it, girl." Tiffany put out her tongue and licked the fluid from the tiny hole.

"More than that! Put it in your mouth and taste it all!"

Trying to stay in character, she slowly put her soft lips around the purple crown, and took the helmet in her mouth. Roger groaned as her mouth closed over his penis, and let Tiffany please herself with her efforts for the moment. Not wanting to end the game too soon, Roger pulled her away before she had him too worked up to stop.

"Now we'll see what you're hiding under there!" he said, pointing to her tight short shorts. Not much was left to see, as the fabric was cut so short her butt cheeks were already visible, and the front barely covered her puffy mound. They were tight enough that the centre seam was pulled up between the outer lips of her vulva. A quick twist of the brass button, and the fabric flew apart, as if by magic. The well-worn zipper pulled halfway down by itself took little effort to push the rest of the way. Soft tufts of the slightly darker fur over her mound peeked out the opening.

"You'll pull them off, now, my sweet pretty!"

"Oh, but I can't do that! No man has ever seen that before!" she protested.

Roger hooked a finger in the thin crotch and pulled her shorts down quickly.

"Aye, now I have!" he tried to keep up the show, "Now take them away!"

Tiffany lowered her shorts, and stepped out of them where they lay. She now stood completely naked in her garden with her lover. Without a word, and leaving the game behind, she took hold of his pants waist and pulled his jeans to his knees. Roger helped her remove his boots, and piled his clothes on top of hers. They stood close and began to kiss hot. Like Adam and Eve in the garden, they felt alone in the world. It was just the two of them to share love together among the lush vegetation. Tiffany's fingers held his penis and his found her slit. She was dripping wet with her sweet nectar, hungry for his penetration. She turned, leaning against the edge of the raised bed, offering her kitty from behind. Roger stepped up behind her and placed his throbbing erection at her entrance. She pushed back and slowly impaled herself on the hot, thick flesh. Soft moans accompanied the filling of her body as her butt touched his belly.

"OHHH, RRRooogeRRR!"

"You feel so tight, Tiff! So hot!"

"Mmmm ... feels soooo biiiig . ahhhh .. Fuck it for me! . Make it cum in mee.!" She coaxed.

Warm sun on their naked flesh, outside in the garden, Roger started to thrust slowly into the hot, wet vagina. Tiffany met each thrust with her own as the passion increased. He could feel her hand near his penis, guessing that she was frigging her clitoris as he plunged into her sweet body. Long, steady strokes brought them both to a peak. Her digital stimulation had her kitty creaming a thick froth of her nectar.

"Here .. It .. Cummmss! He hissed through clenched teeth.

"OOHH DO IT!!! . CUM INNN ...MMMEEE!" she cried back.

"OOOH..AAAHH..Y..Y.YYEssssss! OHGODYESSSSS!!!" he shouted as he swelled up and spurted his hot seed deep into the writhing girl.

"CCC.CC..CCUUUMMMMINNNNGG T.TTOOOOOO!" Tiffany shrieked as her release followed his. Their bodies slammed together hard as the waves washed through them. Quivering and shaking throughout the orgasms, he held her tight to his belly until the flashes slowed.

Tiffany slipped off the spent shaft, and splashes of their juices formed a puddle on the ground between them. She turned and sat against the timbers and pulled Roger to her. She took his penis in her mouth and cleaned it with her tongue.

"Mmm, Roger. You are right. We do taste good, together!" she exclaimed when she had finished.

"That was hot, Tiff!" he gasped, still out of breath.

They went into the shade for a while, and Tiffany brought out cold drinks for them as they recovered from the "pirate attack". It was a good game play for them, and they decide to try some others later. Returning to the task at hand, Roger and Tiffany finished the garden work late in the afternoon. They washed each other in the shower, and elected to grill outside for dinner.

Steaks and corn with some wine, relaxing on the patio, it felt good to Roger. He told Tiffany how nice it was, and she agreed. She did worry, for a minute, about him leaving. She knew it might happen someday, and hoped it wouldn't be too soon. Shaking off those thoughts, she asked Roger if he would like to try out the hot tub. They were about to go back outside when the phone rang. It was Tiffany's mother wanting to come over to get some more clothes for Johnny.

"We had better put on some clothes before she gets here!" Tiffany exclaimed after hanging up the phone. She went back to the bedroom, and quickly put on a string tie bikini. Roger had no swimsuit so Tiffany gave him a pair of her panties to wear. It did appear to be a well fitting Speedo at first glance, but it outlined his substantial equipment all too well!

The silky fabric felt strange to Roger, as it had no liner that a swimsuit would. His penis reacted to the feeling, and bulged nicely in Tiffany's opinion.

"Maybe you should go ahead and get in the tub." She remarked. "I'm not sure what mama would say if she saw that!" pointing at his firmness.

Roger went on and settled into the warm water while Tiffany started the jets of water running. She had brought their wine, and sat on the edge with her feet on either side of Roger. A few minutes later, her mother calling out followed a knock on the door.

"We're back here, Mom!" she shouted.

She told Tiffany what she needed, and they went to Johnny's room to fetch it. A short while later, Roger heard the front door close, and Tiffany re-joined him at the tub. She sat behind him, letting his head rest between her thighs. He rubbed her smooth legs and massaged her feet in the warm bath. She in turn, rubbed down his muscular shoulders and arms.

Roger turned, and his face was inches from Tiffany's mound. The valley of her vulva was clearly outlined by the tight garment she wore, and he noticed it was very damp even though she hadn't been in the water yet. The heavy aroma of her sex wafted into his senses, arousing him further. He kissed on the wet spot through the cloth, and tasted her sex juice.

Pushing the thin material aside, he applied his tongue to the exposed labia. Tiffany inhaled sharply when he found her clitoris with the flat of his tongue. He took the tie strings at the side loose, the bottom of her suit fell in, and began to float around in the churning water. He kissed up her belly as he rose from the pool. Tiffany had loosened the tie on her top and removed it just as his lips sought out her breasts.

While Roger suckled her mammaries, Tiffany pushed down the panties and freed his raging hard-on. She slid off the edge of the tub and rubbed her belly all the way down his body until she felt the hard flesh poking at her vulva. A little wiggle allowed the hot member to separate the folds and begin to penetrate her inner labia. Roger helped align their sexes and soon felt her warm tunnel surrounding his erection.

"That feels sooo goood!" she whispered. "Let's not hurry? Okay?" she asked.

"No, no hurry, Tiff. Nice and easy, this time." He replied.

Barely moving, they shared love for what seemed like hours, each reveling in the heat and passion of one another's sex. She was feeling the fullness in her belly, he was experiencing the texture of her vagina surrounding his flesh. Long strokes, followed by grinding pelvis movements accentuated their desires repeatedly.

"Kiss on it, again? Please?" she whispered inn his ear.

He pulled out slowly, and let her body float up to his face to receive the oral attention she requested. He soon had her hips humping the air as her orgasm built to a climactic peak. Tiffany's scream split the quiet night air as he took her over the brink to release. Spasmodic jerking took over her entire body while the intense orgasm seared her insides. She managed to pull off his mouth and rapidly turned over to kneel at the edge.

"OHMIGOD! ROGER! ... PUT IT INMEEE.FILL ME...ohmigod..FUCK MEEEEEE!!" She panted through her release.

Roger rose from the water and grabbed her shaking waist, driving his erection to the hilt in one swift plunge. Her quivering kitty gripped his hard flesh and pulled his fluids from him instantly. The hot jets pulsed deep inside Tiffany's body, causing her to begin cumming anew. Multiple cums coursed through her as they splashed water out of the tub, onto the patio. Uncontrolled humping and thrusting continued the heavy cum for both of them for an eternity. It seemed like gallons of cum was filling her small body Breathless, they collapsed in the shallow water and held each other tight. They cuddled tenderly in the bubbling froth and sipped wine while they laughed at their clothes floating in the water. Giggling and teasing led to soft touches and hot kissing. Tiffany floated over Roger's lap facing him, and she wrapped her strong thighs around his waist. They shared love again in the water, and finally decided to go inside when the air turned cool around them.

Tiffany watched Roger dry himself, admiring his body as he flexed each set of muscles. She thought again of how good it was to have a man like him in her life, at last. He treated her well, with kind thoughts and deeds. He had a marvelous outlook on life, and a well-tuned libido that matched hers. His equipment wasn't lacking either, and he knew how to please a woman. She could easily get spoiled, with Roger around.

Roger finished drying off, and wrapped the towel around his waist. He looked over at Tiffany, sitting cross-legged on the bed. Her hair was awry and a dreamy look covered her face. He walked over and started to comb out her long yellow hair. She stared at him as he straightened out the tangled mess and braided it loosely at her neck.

"Hey, Tiff! Where are you?" he asked.

"Thinking about how wonderful you are. How good you are to me. How much I love you."

She blurted out the words without thinking. Her face took on a look of shock when she realised that she had said it out loud. `Now I've done it' she thought. `That will scare him away, for sure.'

Roger didn't respond to the words right away. Tiffany began to tremble inside, her stomach was in knots. He reached out and held up her face, then kissed her softly on the mouth. Tiffany's trembling lips parted as she returned the kiss. Her arms circled his neck and held him. The towel had fallen from his waist, his penis hung low, still semi- hard as the kiss deepened.

He pulled away and looked into her eyes. He saw the worry, the faint shadow of her tears at the corners. He walked around the bed and climbed on. Leaning against the heavy headboard, he held out his arm for her to come to him. Still shaking inside, she moved over and curled up at his side. His hand slid down her tight body as he rolled over to kiss her again. When his fingers reached her mound, Tiffany's thighs parted to welcome his advance.

Roger entered her tiny body slowly, and began the lover's dance.