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Myth

By: kellycummings



Authors note:

All the crimes in this story are taken from popular urban legends. However, the plot and characters are not "self-aware" as in movies like Scream and Urban Legend. In the universe of this story, these legends never existed and are new to the people involved. Also, before anyone asks, I did a lot of research into the legends themselves and have found that they are all just that, legends. None of them is true and I for one am happy about that! 

It was cold that day on the campus. The temperature was holding steady at 19 degrees and the ground was covered in several inches of snow. Most of the classes had been cancelled for that day, as they had for the previous two days and the students were getting a bit stir crazy, as young adults tend to do when confined for very long.

Lori and Mike had been lounging in the dorms reception area for most of the day, getting caught up on their studies and taking more than the occasional break to get caught up on each other's anatomy.

Neither of the kids were the most popular or beautiful on campus but they were not unattractive. Lori had strawberry blonde hair that fell just below her shoulders and an almost perfect creamy complexion. Her nose was just a tad too big for her narrow face and teeth, although brilliantly white were slightly crooked. Most of the men found her pretty though, her features making her unique. She had small, perky breasts and rarely wore a bra. He ass, although she thought it a little big, was usually stared at by students and teachers alike.

Mike was about fifteen pounds overweight and his short black hair had a tendency to look mussed no matter what he did to it. His face was attractive but not in the usual sense. He had a large chin that reminded many people of Jay Leno or Bruce Campbell and he had a permanent five o'clock shadow. Lori found him very hot though, and as far as he was concerned, that was all that mattered. 

They had quit trying to study over an hour ago and were making out on one of the sofas when they looked around and noticed that they were alone. The place was usually bustling with activity but now it was quiet and they saw that night had fallen outside.

"How long have we been sitting here?" Mike asked her.

"I don't know, several hours I guess. Everyone must have gone home or to their rooms. I didn't even realize it was dark yet."

Mike kissed her and said, "I suppose I should get back to my dorm. I still have some stuff to do and I doubt they will cancel any classes tomorrow."

Lori leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "Nobody is around right now and my roommate will leave if I ask her to. Why don't we sneak up for a quickie before you leave?"

Mike thought about it for a few seconds and figured the benefits outweighed the risk of being caught in a girl's dorm room. The school had strict rules about these things but it wasn't exactly a secret that couples had sex in their rooms.

"So what are we waiting for? Let's go!" he said and grabbed her by the hand.

They checked to make sure no one was around to see them go up and the quickly and stealthily went up to the third floor where Lori and Patricia had their room.

The hall was unusually quiet and they were able to sprint down to the room and get inside before anyone saw them. The room was pitch black and when Mike went to turn on the light Lori stopped him.

"Don't, Pat must be out somewhere, and if she comes in before we're done we'll have time to cover ourselves before she gets the light on."

"Come on, baby, you know I like having the lights on."

"No. Now come here and take care of me."

She led him to her bed through the small, dark room and they lay down on top of the covers. Mike started kissing her neck, nibbling on her ears and kissing down her throat as he worked the buttons on her blouse. His hand found it's way inside and slowly massaged her breast, occasionally tweaking her nipple.

Lori moaned softly as his mouth worked down her throat and into the valley between her breasts. She had a small bosom and he was able to take her nipple and a good portion of the breast in his mouth, sucking soft, and then hard, sometimes a little bite that sent a pleasurable shiver down her spine.

In the darkness she felt his tongue licking down her belly, playfully touching her navel as it went on it's journey to her mound of soft hair. He kissed the insides of her thighs and the sensitive spots where her thighs and groin met. His tongue began to dance around her labia, darting in for a quick taste of her juices or to flick her clit and then going back out for more teasing.

She had her hands on the back of his head, trying to guide him into her sweet spot but he resisted, making her want it even more. By the time he began to pay full attention to her clit she was quivering, her juices soaking the blanket beneath her.

Mike sucked and licked her clit; her moans making him work even harder. He continued to lick and tease until he felt her begin to shake. He knew she was about to cum and he stayed on her clit until she finished, her hips pushed up into his face, her hands practically pulling his hair out.

When she was done, he kissed his way back up her torso and found her lips. He kissed her and she tasted herself on him, savoring the sweetness of it. She tried to roll him over and return the favor but he pushed her back onto the covers. "I don't think I can handle a blowjob right now, I'm way too horny."

"Just fuck me then," she told him and kissed him passionately, her tongue darting around inside his mouth, still tasting her juice on him.

Mike positioned himself between her legs and eased his cock up to the opening of her pussy. He had a larger than average dick and this was the moment Lori always enjoyed the most, the seconds before and during initial penetration.

He pushed himself into her and the both let out soft sighs, his member going in as deep as it could. Mike started to move his hips, moving his cock in and out of her sopping pussy, thrusting just a bit harder with each stroke, going deeper and deeper until the rhythm was just perfect.

Lori put her legs up and around his waist and locked her ankles together at the small of his back so that she could push him in with each stroke. It always turned him on when she did this and he began to pump faster and harder, his cock finally slamming into her with each thrust.

He hadn't been lying about his horniness because they were only at it for a few minutes when he started moaning a little louder and his thrusts became faster. Lori sensed this and knowing he was about to cum was all it took push her over the brink into ecstasy. She pushed herself up to meet him and exploded into orgasm, crying out for him just as he pushed one last time and drained himself into her.

She felt his load empty into her pussy and he collapsed on top of her, his breathing labored, his head wet with perspiration. They lay there, holding each other, savoring these few moments they had alone.

Lori looked over at the digital clock that shone brightly in the darkness of the room and told him, "It's getting late and Pat is going to be back any time. You better think about getting back to your dorm."

"I know, I'm just not enjoying the thought of going out in that cold. What do you say I stay here for the night and sneak out in the morning?"

"Yeah, that should go over real good with everyone," Lori said and giggled.

"Maybe when Pat gets back we could have a three-way," he said and Lori grabbed his dick and gave it a hard squeeze.

"Ouch! Damn girl, I was only kidding!"

"You're mine and only mine. Now if you want to have a three-way with me and one of your buddies, then we can talk."

"You wish. Hey, how did you find my dick so fast in the dark like that?"

She kissed him and started to get up and feel for her clothes, "I always know where that is."

They both fumbled around for their clothes and got dressed. Lori poked her head out of the door, saw that the coast was clear and led Mike downstairs to the main doors.

She kissed him one last time and said, "I'll see you tomorrow, stud."

"Can't wait, baby," he said and walked out into the cold.

Lori watched him walk away then went back to her room. She opened the door, turned on the light, and let out a scream that brought most of the residents of that floor running to her room.

As the girls gathered around to see what was going on, Lori feel backwards in the hall and leaned against the far wall, her screams still echoing through the dorm.

Inside the room, Patricia lay on her bed, her throat slit, and blood sprayed against the wall next to the bed and the ceiling above. A pool of the red liquid was on the floor beneath her. She was completely naked, spread-eagled on the bed and her vagina had been cut open but without much blood in that area. The wounds obviously inflicted after death.

That was only part of what was causing Lori's hysteria. On the wall opposite, the door, written in blood, was a message.

"Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the light?"

"It wasn't the boyfriend. He was never alone in there without the girl."

Stuart looked at his partner, his face red from the cold outside, his coat still buttoned because the chill hadn't left his bones yet.

"Maybe they were working together. Wouldn't be the first time."

Bert shook his head, "No way. You saw how fucked up she was. You can't fake that."

"Fucking creepy, the guy in there with them the whole time, how could they not see him?"

"Look," Bert said and flipped down the light switch.

Stuart saw the room fall into complete darkness, the small window not allowing any light in at all. The only illumination coming from the digital clock that Lori had checked just an hour before.

Bert flipped the switch back on and said, "The ME said the wounds to her vagina were post-mortem. I would have bet the bank that a freak like this would have wanted her to be alive for that."

"Maybe he doesn't care about her at all. He might have done it for shock value." Stuart turned and walked out of the room. "After the techs are done we'll go through the place. We might get lucky. I want to talk to the girl and her boyfriend. Where are they now?"

"Downstairs, with a couple of campus police, take it easy on them. I get the feeling they're telling the truth."

Stuart went downstairs and found the couple sitting on a couch, the same couch they had been making out on earlier, but he didn't know that and if someone had told him he probably wouldn't have cared.

He did a quick interview with each of them, asking the same questions they had already answered several times before. After a few minutes with each one he knew that Bert had been right, they were telling the truth.

"Fuck," he said to himself as he went back up to the crime scene. He had been in homicide for twelve years and had seen plenty of murders; many more gruesome than this one but this one bothered him. Why leave the message? What was the point? It would have been easier and quicker just to get out as soon as the couple had left.

"Fuck," he said again and walked into the room with his partner.

Being on the graveyard shift was never a problem for Stuart. He enjoyed the relative quiet, most homicides were committed or discovered during the day, and robberies were usually discovered during the day. This left late nights for the rare call out or paperwork. There wasn't much else to do and he liked that just fine.

Bert, on the other hand, was a junkie. He craved the calls, getting his hands dirty and following leads. Stuart could understand that, it was their job after all, but life sure was easier when the most you had to do was write a report.

He sat at his desk in the squad room and pondered this while leafing through his notes on the campus murder they had just come back from. The pictures weren't in yet and it would be at least a day or two before they had anything from the medical examiner so all he had to go on at present were the interviews they had done and the few clues they had picked up at the scene.

Why would someone, having come so close to being caught, stick around to write a message on the wall in blood? It seemed excessive, even for a freak. If it were me, he thought to himself, I'd be getting the hell out of there while I could. That of course led to another question, how did he get in and out?

The girl had gotten her boyfriend in without anyone noticing so that wasn't impossible but this guy would have had to be in a rush, high on adrenaline and knowing that there were at least two people roaming around that might see him. There were a few exits and Stuart assumed he had taken one of those but he thought, this is one lucky bastard not to have been seen.

Bert came over, sat a cup of coffee down on the desk, and took a chair opposite Stuart. "Solve it yet?" he asked.

"Yep, sure did. You did it, I'm sure of that."

"Damn, found me out, now I have to off you too."

Stuart sipped his coffee and sat looking at his desk, "Remember a few weeks ago, Roberts and Colbert got that call over by the mall. The woman said an old lady was in the backseat of her car."

"Yeah, weird shit. Figured it for a guy in drag didn't they?"

"Yep, they found that hatchet and rope in a bag on the backseat. Never did catch the guy though."

Bert leaned back in his chair, gulping his coffee. Stuart never could figure out how he did that. It didn't matter how hot something was, Bert could drink or eat it with no problem, like he didn't have any feeling in his upper body. 

"So, what, Stu, you think they're related?"

"I don't know, maybe. They are both pretty weird and being in drag could explain how he got in and out of the dorm without being noticed."

"I think they might notice an old lady. And even if the guy got a new costume, nobody we talked to said they saw anyone they didn't know."

"People are stupid, you know that," Stuart told him. "Fucking Godzilla could have walked through there and they would all say they didn't see anything odd."

"I think you're reaching for shit. You never know though. I'll check with Roberts when he comes in. He has the day shift this week." Bert finished his coffee and sat the empty cup on the desk in front of him. "Let's say the two are connected, just for the sake of argument. You're thinking he's gonna repeat, aren't you."

"Even if they aren't connected I'm thinking that. This is too strange. Nothing indicates it was a boyfriend or jilted lover. It didn't seem to be done in a rage. The person was patient, only took the one victim when he could have had three and left without panicking. It was planned but I don't think it was personal."

Bert frowned as he thought back to the scene of the dead girl lying on her bed, her life sprayed all over the walls. "Seemed pretty fucking personal to me."

"You know what I mean. I don't think he picked her because he knew her. I think he picked her because of something else. Maybe he thought she'd be easy or maybe there was something about her that set him off."

The message on the wall kept flashing in Bert's head and he got a shiver down his spine. "That was some pretty bizarre shit," he said.

Stuart just frowned and thought to himself, I just hope it doesn't get worse.

The girls were both very attractive and semi-popular on campus so it was understandable that they were both in shock about the fact that neither of them had dates on a Saturday night. Karen had broken up with her boyfriend two weeks ago, fully expecting to have a new beau by now. However, fate was against her and here she was with her roommate, drinking beer and gossiping with Ramona about the bitch that had taken Dick (aptly named in her opinion) away from her around the same time that Karen had dumped Stan.

"I'm telling you, Mona, that slut was screwing one of her profs just last week. She can't keep her legs closed. With any luck, Dick will catch a nice STD and not get laid for years."

"I don't even care about her anymore," Ramona said between gulps from the bottle of cheep beer they had smuggled into the dorm. "I don't care about him either. I just wanted to go out tonight, maybe get laid, or at least have some fun."

Karen took a long drink from her bottle and set it down empty in front of the dozen empty bottles already on the small table they shared. "I got some grass if you wanna have fun. We could go out but in this weather, there isn't a whole lot going on. I say we stay in, get high and drunk, and make our own fun."

Mona certainly wasn't against a joint now and then and told Karen to fire it up. The beer had already made her horny and maybe the grass would give her the courage to hit on Karen whom she'd had a small crush on since they became roommates at the beginning of the school year.

The girls sat there at the table that they had dubbed "the bar" soon after moving in. They passed the joint between them several times and soon both of them were under the spell of the ganja. 

"You wanna talk about sluts," Karen said after settling back in her chair to relax and enjoy her high, "you know that bitch Stephanie Forrest?"

"Sure, I've talked to her a couple times."

"Well," Karen continued, "I was in the library a few weeks ago, it was late, maybe ten or eleven, and she came over and sat next to me."

"Oh yeah?"

"I didn't think much of it, big place and mostly empty but, hey, if she wants some company, what the hell. Right?"

"Sure, it's lonely in there when it's late."

"So this bitch starts talking to me like she's my best friend or something. I mean, I hardly know her! She starts telling me about all the women on her floor and how they don't understand her and all that. Then she reaches over and puts her hand on top of mine. Not friendly, you know, sexy."

"No shit?" Ramona said, afraid of where this was going. It was starting to sound like Karen wasn't going to be interested in what she was hoping to bring up.

"Yeah, no shit. I just sat there and looked at her like, 'what the hell are you doing?' and you know what she did then?"

"What?" 

"She goes, 'I have you pegged for someone who would understand. Someone who knows what she wants.'"

Karen stopped and looked at Mona, her eyes half shut from the marijuana. "I didn't know what to say so I just went 'I always know what I want', you know, playing the bitch, thinking she might go away. I guess I wasn't thinking because she got the wrong impression."

Ramona started to giggle and said, "What did she do?"

"She puts her hand on my back and leans close to me and, I swear this it true, she whispers in my ear, 'Do you wanna go somewhere more private? Maybe we could go in town and get a room.'"

"No way!"

Karen slapped the table, rattling the bottles, "Hell yes! Can you believe it? I mean she hit on me like that, right there in the library! Like I would do anything with her. I'm way out of her league."

Ramona had to admit she was right; Karen was way out of Stephanie's league. She had long, dirty blonde hair that fell nearly to her waist and a beautiful face that anyone would be hard pressed to find fault with. Her breasts were large and firm and her hips had just the right shape and swayed so perfectly when she walked.

"So, what, you would do something with another woman if she was in your league?" Ramona asker her, praying for the right answer.

"Well, sure, wouldn't you?" Karen asked, leaning in just a bit towards Mona and lifting one eyebrow.

"Uh, I guess so... I mean, I've thought about it, sure, but I've never done it." Mona was trying hard to make it sound like she wasn't anxious for this happen but she was afraid it was coming out sounding too fake.

"You want to try it?" Karen asked, her voice just above a whisper, her eyes locked onto Ramona's.


Myth and Deception: April Fools



The evening of April Fool's

Sweat poured from Marcus' brow; the hot and sticky kind you feel in sub-tropical rain forests. But Marcus was not in the Amazon or Congo. Marcus was enjoying an April evening; on a lake; in Austin Texas; temperature about 63 degrees. Or at least he had been enjoying it.

The spring wind blew and caressed Marcus' skin with the promise of warmer weather to come including girls in bikinis and perhaps ventures into skinny dipping. But Marcus interpreted the breeze as icy pins penetrating his cheeks, arms and legs. It made him shiver uncontrollably. 

Lilly hovered over him. She was asking a question. He blinked then he blinked again. She needed more. "Marcus, are you sure you are ready? Say yes!" she said with an urgency intended to make sure that Marcus heard her through what she imagined was a Greek chorus singing in his head.

He breathed then choked back a sob. He suddenly swiveled his head to the right. It was resting on a makeshift cot setup by the lake. His eyes shined with fear. He could make out the blurry heads and torsos of his compatriots - his co-conspirators - his friends. "I don't get it" he whispered. "This was supposed to be Tim." There was movement but his blurred vision couldn't make out any details. He blinked. Then he saw one blurry image separate from the others. It approached him. He could sense almost an electrical connection. He tried to reach out but his arms were secured. It was Tim. He could sense it.

The blurry head moved close. His cheek touched Marcus's cheek. He stank of pot and strawberry conditioner. Tim's unseen hand caressed Marcus' forehead. 

"Marcus. Dear Marcus." Tim started in his familiar lisp, sounding more diabolical than sympathetic. "I know you are surprised. We all are. You are the last person any of us expected to be lying here. But remember, we all agreed to the deal." With this Marcus half yelped and half sobbed. He shook at his binds and he shook his head. 

Tim let the outburst run its course then cradled Marcus' head in both of his hands and stared deep in his eyes. They both huffed deep adrenaline filled breaths at each other. Tim imagined each of his breaths as chariots flinging themselves onto the field of battle. There they met similar warrior chariots dispatched from deep inside Marcus's lungs. They clashed and then in an instant were gone - evaporated into the air - into the past.

"Marcus, listen to me" Tim couldn't tell if Marcus knew it was him or not. "I know you are scared. But you are the luckiest person in the world." Marcus blinked and heaved several chariot breaths. "You get to spend the rest of your life at Lilly's side." Marcus began to sob. "You will be her one and only, her consort. You will share all of her secrets and all of her plots. There will be no confidences between the two of you. And there will never be any reason not to trust each other." Tim paused. "I know I was supposed to be the one laying here. I can't explain what happened. Maybe, Marcus - maybe it's fate." 

"Fate!" Marcus spat out

"Yes, fate". Tim held on and responded earnestly. "Think Marcus, think. We all know you love Lilly. We've seen how you flirted with her for the last three years. I thought - I mean - Lilly and I thought that perhaps she and I would be the right partners. But maybe this test - this demonstration of my love for Lilly showed something even more true. You showed you don't lust after Lilly. You - and only you - truly love and respect her soul. It's fate Marcus. Fate"

With that Lilly appeared again in the background. She whispered in Tim's ear. 

"Marcus" Tim calmly addressed him. "We need to know if you are ready."

"Marcus, this is Lilly" her voice seemed to ride along with the soft soothing notes of a lute. "I want you to know that I love you. I can't even begin to understand how you are feeling - and the fear you have about your - well - your sacrifice - but please, please know that I will be here for you. It will be you and I. And I have such grand plans Marcus. You and I - we will be conquerors."

The night suddenly held still. The fire crackled. The wind blew. 

'slooop slish, sloop slish'. The waters of the lake licked at the rocky shore.

"Please say yes" whispered Lilly.

Marcus blinked some more. He needed to clear his vision. He took a deep breath. He squeezed his eyes shut then opened them wide. The stars appeared above him. He quickly searched the sky and found him off to his left. Orion, the hunter, still hung in the sky - not quite ready to disappear for summer. Orion was Marcus' mentor god and there he stood pointing down to this small patch of humanity on a lakefront beach in Austin. 

Orion would not - could not stand for this. Marcus knew this for certain. But his ethereal advisor was a brute - a slaughterer. Orion lost his place on earth because of his own blood lust. Orion never consummated his love with Artemis - and perhaps he never fulfilled his destiny because of the wrath he brought down on himself. Remembered forever in the stars Orion contributed little to earth's destiny.

Could he and Lilly be different? Could they be modern conquerors? 

"Yes" Marcus stated. Then surprised at how weak his voice had become, repeated himself with more strength "God, yes".

Marcus caught the glint of the scalpel - a white and yellow light reflecting the stars and the campfire. Then Lilly lowered it out of sight. A cheer rang out along with some laughter and some gasps. 

Marcus faded into unconsciousness and dreamed of Orion bowing down to Athena. The Goddess stood proudly over the subject, then in a bath of light turned herself into a scorpion.

 

February 3

Marcus was right. Everyone knew that he was not supposed to be the one lying on the cot with his balls in the hands of a pre-vet student. In fact this whole morbid demonstration of love, virility and renewal was Tim's idea. Tim had planned his own castration and in typical Tim fashion it was meant to be Group Theater. 

Marcus had first heard of Tim's "Balls with the Wind" epic drama not much more than 60 seconds after finishing his own Group Theater with Nina and Elana two months earlier. Marcus's sex life was well above normal for an upper class man, but this threesome was a new watershed even for him.

There was no striptease when the three started - or awkward undressing. All three were eager to blow off some steam. Plus, Nina, Marcus and Elana had all seen each other naked at one point or another - although this is the first time all three were banging together. Free love among Marcus's college 'study' group was probably too conservative a statement. Couplings were common - and even two sex parties had been arranged over the three and half years - although the orgies almost always consisted of couples doing it in front of other couples. What the three were about to undertake was a rarity. Three naked college kids sharing the same erotic dance and they were all giddy with anticipation. 

Nina, small breasted and big hipped even had a plan. Stripped naked she pushed Elana down on the futon, kneeled to her right and signaled for Marcus to kneel to her left. Elana giggled as she stared at Marcus' quickly thickening member and she reached out a hand to grab hold- but at the last minute she moved her hand to his hip. She brushed the black hair that masked his dark skinned thigh, giggled again then looked at Nina. 

Nina produced a bottle of pineapple and coconut massage oil and had positioned it over Elana's thin waist that was slowly rising and falling with each breath. She gave it a squeeze.

"Eww - hey - that's cold" Elana reacted with a high laugh.

Nina proceeded to dribble the sweet smelling slippery stuff over Elana's belly, down her thighs and then up and over her breasts. Marcus didn't hesitate. As the oily pina colada quickly sought lower ground, he got his hands on skin and began to smear. Nina now joined in and their first job was to smooth and smother Elana's thighs, stomach, breasts and shoulders. Within moments Elana glistened like a Greek goddess - the white sheets framing her lithe body and strands of her long dark hair splayed about the pillow like they were floating on water - Venus presented to the world in a clamshell.

Now Marcus slowed down and began to focus on Elana's thighs. Elana had a runners build. Her lean white thighs connected to slightly wider but firm hips. Marcus ran his hands down the inside of her leg. His large hands were stretched side by side and slid his fingers down and under the milky thigh. His hands were massive and stretched from her knee to her crotch. He pulled his hands back to the front of the leg, applying just enough pressure to leave a trail of pink on white as his hot touch pulled her blood to the surface. Elana closed her eyes. She shifted her left leg a bit closer to Marcus, leaving some space for him to reach nearer her sex.

Nina took up the same action on the right leg and soon they were working in silent coordination. Elana's legs slowly drew wider apart till they were about halfway to a spread eagle. Both Nina and Marcus then ran their hands up the inside of Elana's thighs to massage the outside of her lips and Elana shivered. Nina added some oil to her hands and then moved them even farther up her thighs, to her lips and then to cover her entire pussy with sweet, shiny goo.

They continued this for a few more minutes - sometimes massaging the thighs, sometimes moving a hand or two to the stomach or breasts. Back and forth. Back and forth. Elana's head was arched back and her eyes gently closed. A small smile danced on her cheeks and face. Marcus stared at Elana's sex.. It was neatly trimmed - just the way he liked it. He licked his lips. Almost on queue Nina pulled Elana's right leg a bit more apart and her pussy lips parted. Marcus caught sight of her glistening clit as it began to swell. His dick twitched and he suddenly worried about potentially ending this party too early. 

He looked up at Nina who was smiling with giddy pleasure at Elana's reaction. Nina's small breasts seemed to Marcus to be a bit more pert - and her nipples were swollen. Small little red cherries that made Marcus both salivate and twitch. He caught Nina's eyes and with a head nod signaled a change.

They woke Elana from her trance and switched places. The well-built Nina laid on her stomach showing off wrestlers thighs and buttocks. Marcus switched to straddle over the back of Nina's knees while Elana sat up at the head board with Nina's head in her lap. Marcus could imagine the co-mingling smells of pineapple, coconut and Elana. Sweet and salty. Now Marcus slathered on the oil and Elana worked from the shoulders while he worked the back thighs and ass. Marcus sighed. He tried to control how quickly he moved from the thighs to the beautiful pink orbs of her ass. He didn't want to appear too eager. Then Nina wiggled her bottom back and forth while smiling over her shoulder and he knew what she wanted.

Marcus almost palmed Nina's ass like a basketball, then pressed the heel of his palm deep into the tissue and pressed forward. He kept repeating this motion, sometimes detouring to grab her waist like he was going to pull Nina onto his hot hard member with one forceful stroke - but then he released her hips and returned to the plump ass. After a few more deep tissue rubs he ran his hands up past the small of her back and his hands met Elana's hands. The two threw lustful smiles to each other and then resumed the massage. Marcus moved his hands in broad circular patterns, crushing Nina's cheeks together, then pulling them apart to reveal her pink rosebud and moist slit. "Wax on, Wax off" he joked to himself thinking of Mr. Miyagi. He kept up the motion and Nina purred.

Soon it was more than he could stand and Marcus lifted his massive frame to hover over Nina - one arm holding him up while the other positioned his cock between her ass cheeks so that it slid up and down between her rubbery melons on the bottom and his own abdomen on the top. Marcus lowered his body and Elana took the queue. She circled back to the foot of the bed - and with her breasts and belly still shimmering from the tropical massage oil, laid herself down on Marcus. The three of them squirmed and wiggled - the friction causing more swelling for everyone. Marcus was careful to support his weight so Nina wasn't crushed. 

Elana took a quick pause to add even more lubricant to her breasts and chest then dived back on Marcus's frame pressing her ample bosom into his back and shoulders. She used enough oil to simulate a slip and slide and at one point she almost slithered off the coconut sandwich letting out a yelp and a laugh that also brought Nina to giggle. Then she regained her balance and once again was mashing her breasts into Marcus' lats and rubbed her pussy up against his ass. Slip and slide galore. As Elana's humping intensified Nina sensed she was missing out and raised her right shoulder and hip. Marcus took the hint and raised himself up so that Nina could maneuver herself to her knees and elbows. Her beautiful ass and dripping pussy were now fully exposed.  

Marcus raised himself to his knees and Elana could no longer fight against the lubricant and fell to the floor. She landed like a cat on all four haunches and looked hungrily up to her two partners that had just jilted her from the futon. Her swollen lips, clit and tits sent electrical signals to Elana's brain goading her to act. She swung her body back to the headboard, sat down right in front of Nina's panting head. With her legs spread wide open Elana lustfully ordered Nina to lick.

The three were Greek Gods. To Marcus they not only shimmered from the combination of oil and perspiration - they sparkled. Hard and brilliant. He rested a hand on Nina's ass as Nina dived in to eat her friend's pussy with wild abandon. He held the purple head of his member between her pussy lips and he waited. Slowly he tickled her lips and pointed the large head down to her clit, then back up and waited. He teased at her opening. Nina pressed back but he shifted to keep from satisfying her with deep penetration. She moaned in frustration - a stifled moan given her mouth full of Elana's pussy.

He played this game and waited. He stared at Elana and waited. Elana was floating somewhere - her eyes were closed as she concentrated on feeling every nuance - every motion of Nina's energetic tongue and lips. Finally Elana opened her eyes. They locked onto Marcus's own eyes and he felt her gaze into his soul. Electricity shot between them and Marcus plunged.

'Phlupp' Marcus sent his cock deep inside of Nina's well lubricated pussy in one massive stroke. Nina was crushed forward, her tongue and chin pressing into Elana. Elana shrieked both from the new and welcome pressure but also from the pure animal lust as Marcus - the hunter - plunged his spear into her friend. Phlupp, phlupp . . . His eyes were on fire. His hands were on Nina's waist pushing and pulling her forward and back. The two bookends to Nina's sweaty body kept up their eye contact. Elana's eyes showed more of her hunger. They rolled into the back of her head and she strained to keep Marcus in her sights. Then a guttural moan, deeper than anything she had felt before exploded from her belly, through her lungs, past her tongue and through her mouth. Her thighs spasmed, and spasmed again. She threw her head back and grabbed Nina's hair with one hand and secured Nina's shoulder with the other hand. She couldn't decide if she wanted her to stop or to feel Nina crawl deep inside her womb. Elana would become her mother goddess - protecting and nurturing her flock. Now her legs slowed their trembling only to have warmth fill her loins and breasts. She grabbed one of her breasts and squeezed hard. They were warm, hot, hard and firm. She held her clasp.

Nina too was beginning to feel overcome. Elana's erotic bucking started Nina's own endorphins to fire. Nina was taking in one sexual stimuli after another. She smelled Elana's musky and sweet pussy. She tasted pineapple and coconut. She managed to stare up from Elana's pussy to see her quivering belly heave in spasm after spasm and saw Elana massage her own engorged breast and nipple. And that was nothing compared to Marcus's forceful, strong and methodical pounding of her pussy and ass cheeks. 

Then Marcus paused, withdrew, stroked in hard, withdrew again but left the purple head just at Nina's entrance. And then - in what seemed like slow motion - pressed himself inside her one last time - and now his swelling cockhead and shaft filled her so she felt she might burst. And then he released. He pulsed. Once. Twice. A third time. She felt each pulse. She felt his sticky goo shoot inside her womb. She happily lost control.

Nina collapsed forward on the bed - propped up by Elanas quivering mass. Her legs slipped out from under her. Her crotch landed on the white sheets and proceeded to leave a wet dark mark. One leg shot straight back, her other splayed to the side. Her entire body trembled. Her face clenched in a look of pleasure and pain. She cursed something in ancient Greek - a habit she had gotten accustomed to after learning swear words in a mythology class. 

Marcus managed to follow her down and keep his spear penetrated and on the mark. And by leaning forward he now found himself inches from Elana's flushed cheeks and wanting lips. Instinctively the two locked their mouths, opened their lips and fucked each other with their tongues. Marcus broke the kiss just for a moment to slurp up their co-mingled drool before piercing Elana's mouth once again.

Then the three collapsed. The shuddering stopped. The Greek swearing turned into exhausted giggles and Elana absent mindedly fondled her breasts again while all three gasped for air.

"That was fucking incredible" Elana finally stated the obvious. "Let'do it again." Nina reached for the small exposed portion of Elana's ass cheek and slapped it in playful protest.

"Give us a minute" she said.

"Yeah, yeah" and then Elana went on "I don't get it though - Tim is thinking about giving all of this up?"

"Um, Tim is gay - I think he's already given up on the girl thing" Nina stated with a laugh knowing that Elana sometimes gets things confused.

"No, no - not that. He told me he's giving up sex. He wants to become a Eunuch or something."

"What?" replied Nina

"Yeah, he has this crazy theory about being able to focus on things better if sex was -well - out of the equation. He thinks his over active sex life is holding him back."

Marcus kept silent, closed his eyes and chuckled. "Classic Tim" he thought. "Always the drama queen."

"Umm, if you ask me, Tim's over active libido is about the only thing that is active in that brain of his" came back Nina. "If he cuts off his balls he won't magically grow a 140 IQ - or even a 110 IQ."

"Cut off his balls?" asked Elana

"Uh yeah, that's what a Eunuch is. Don't you remember those stories about some of the Greek gods and goddesses that had Eunuchs as servants - or even as consorts - you know - husbands. Well Eunuchs are castrated males."

"Oh my god now it totally makes sense" as the light bulb flashed on in Elana's head. "He said exactly that. He said the Greeks had it right. He talked about Attis - some minor Greek god that was castrated and became the consort to Cybele. He's going to become her consort!"

Now it was Nina's turn to look puzzled. "Who's consort?" she asked.

"Lilly's. She was there when they were talking about it. She was laughing at him kind of goading him actually. I think she wants him to do it"

With that Marcus lifted himself to one elbow and listened a bit more closely.

 

February 11

"That's absolutely, positively absurd" Elena blurted out the next time Tim brought up the idea when the whole group was together. This was the group of14 friends that got together regularly to study, smoke pot and inevitably swap and exchange places in each other's beds. They all dismissed Tim's idea with plain disinterest. It was typical of Tim to throw out ideas for crazy stunts. Most of which were total crap - although a few did, over time, gain Lilly's approval. And even one of two worked through the group and became reality.




Myth and Deception: April Fools



"Elena, don't be a bitch" Tim retorted with indignation. "You are always reacting. React. React. React. Just L I S T E N for once - then maybe something will sink in."

"Oh you're fucked up again aren't you" Elena exchanged. 

"Well maybe" Tim said with a smile "But this idea was hatched when I was completely sober - I just needed some courage to talk about it".

"You need more than courage for this plan. It's crazy" Elana almost shouted.

But the exchange had the benefit of getting others in the group to notice. And now Tim had his audience. 

"Ok, so castration seems like, really extreme." He started despite Elena's dismissal. "But I've been thinking a lot about - well - harnessing my personal energy. I only have this one life. I really feel I can accomplish a helluva lot of shit if I put my mind to it. But I don't always put my mind to the most constructive activities." And with that he shot knowing glances to half the boys in the room and one or two of the girls.

"Come on, you have to admit that I can get really obsessed with sex. I always talk about it. I watch it online. I watch it a lot! I read story after story on kindle" he paused.

"And then I actually do it!" he started up again. "And not only do I do it but I do with flair." And he emphasized this with a rather vulgar hand gesture that somehow ended in jazz hands. "And of course doing it leads to having relationships. Which leads to dinners and movies. And suddenly I'm not doing it anymore - but I'm still thinking of it all the time - and I'm also doing - well relationship stuff. And where is my art? Where is my novel or musical? Where is my Google IPO god dammit? I CANNOT FOCUS!"

"Um, I have some Adderall I can sell you" came Craig's southern drawl from the haze of the room.

"Yeah - I know Craig. Tried it. Loved it. Then hated it." Tim responded. "What's the end game with Adderall or anything medical? It's only short term. Am I going to be an addict on Adderall all my life?"

"Hey, it would set me up pretty well financially if you go that way" replied Craig with a chuckle.

"Yeah Craig, well last I checked I have little interest in supporting my local street hustler pharmacy." Tim chimed in. "Look I can give up sex if it means I get all the other things I want. I want my chance to make a difference and I think - knowing me - my best chance to do that is to snip them off." And with that he hand motioned a scissors snipping off two fingers that were held up in a 'V'.

"Plus" he continued, gaining some energy now "we're supposed to be into all this Greek and Roman shit - and do you know what some followers did back in good ole' 200 BC - they castrated themselves. In fact we celebrate a holiday to them!"

This bold statement elicited some general laughter. "Oh, was the Easter Bunny two eggs short?" voiced Marcus. "Or how about Santa Claus - was he actually a eunuch?"

"Well you're close with the Easter Bunny" Tim pointed vigorously toward Marcus. "It's April Fools Day."

Silence. Then Craig volunteered "I'd pretty pissed if someone played that prank on me." Chuckles rolled from the group.

"Well, no, it wasn't exactly like that. Come on guys - you must remember the story of Attis and Cybele?" Tim implored. "Attis was a eunuch but he was also Cybele's consort - basically husband. Well a lot of people trace April Fools Day to a Roman ritual called Hilaria Matrus Deum in honor of Cybele. Cybele had the total package going for her. She'd come in on a chariot pulled by lions - she was such a baddass. And she had huge tits, and was like the mother to the Greek civilization."

"Well Hilaria was a day on March 25 when all the citizens of Rome had to have fun. It was an actual Roman law. They could not be sad for fear of ruining her mojo or something. And on that Chariot of hers was Attis - her eunuch husband. A twist the Romans added was that people could have fun by playing tricks. Citizens were actually allowed to impersonate other people - including dignitaries - to try to trick others. It was the start of Aprils' Fools Day." 

The crowd didn't know if they should be taking lecture notes or shooting spitballs at the teacher.

"Well so there is this Attis guy - no balls and married." Continued Tim. "And at first I thought - woah - that's kind of a loveless marriage - quite literally. But then I got to thinking and researching things and I know it sounds crazy but I think when two people remove physical sex from the relationship they have a chance to become closer. And if they do it right - they become soul mates and are even stronger together."

"Fuck that" interjected Marcus. "I mean I don't know about gay men but I for one feel I only become close with a woman after we do it. I mean I open up about some crazy shit while we are recovering you know" and with that Marcus gave a squeeze to both Elana and Nina who were nestled up against him. Elana and Nina shrugged at each other, neither really remembering the 'opening up' part of their encounter.

"But that's the thing, Marcus" Tim leaned in his direction "you only open up after you've spilled your godly seed. How much time do you spend getting to that point. I'll wager a ton of time"

"Well not as much as you might think" retorted a confident Marcus.

"Yeah well, we all aren't sexual magnets. Besides" Tim continued "it's still time you - er I - can better spend changing the world. But there is one pretty big requirement" Tim slowed up his speech.

"You mean something bigger than losing your nutsack." Horace chimed in from the back of the room.

"If I do this I need a partner. Someone - a woman actually - that will be that powerful mate that complements me and makes us both strong."

Marcus squirmed a bit sensing what was coming.

"I think he should do it" Lilly finally broke her silence. She had been sitting on the ground about five feet from Tim's chair listening and chatting with Mike and Gwen. She hadn't invested any time in makeup for the evening - not that her naturally high cheek bones and wide eyes needed any outside help - but she did invest in braiding her hair Greco style. The knotted strands ran around her head almost like a head band coming together in a bunch in the back making a somewhat messy bun. Curls hung just in front of her ears to frame her face. Leather ties held her bun in place and ran down to her back and shoulders. Marcos had been struck several times by Lilly's Athena look - total goddess beauty. This was not that. This was her warrior look and she looked fierce. It made Marcos just as horny. 

"And if he does," she continued, "he will become my lifelong consort." She reached out her hand for his. Tim took it and exchanged a warm -almost brotherly smile. 

With this the room erupted again. And now the argument intensified. But one by one Lilly and Tim won over the small group. In the end most sided with Tim's simple right as an adult. And given some of the logic of the arguments all did agree to support him as a friend. With that said, there wasn't a single man besides Tim that remotely thought this was a good idea.

"Well the only thing left to do is plan the party" Nina called out. "When should we do this thing?"

"Uh - April 1 of course" replied Tim. And the date was set.

 

April Fools Day

The group had already been on the private lake beach for over 3 hours when dusk began to settle. The unseasonably warm April day began to turn cool with the night and Mike and Horace set about lighting a few fire pits that had been arranged earlier in the day. Of course the flames were not just about heat - they were also Tim's pyric tribute to the Greek gods he was about to imitate.

The property Tim had rented was ideal for the coming event. Bordered on three sides with thick pine forests it provided a large amount of privacy. The fourth side looked over the water and was situated on a small inlet. This kept neighboring boaters or residents from getting too close a peek at the festivities. 

A gated access road discouraged both official and unofficial visitors from turning into the property. At the same time it was easy to drive their supplies down to the campsite - or to make a quick exit if necessary. 

This was important to Lilly. It was decided - mostly against her wishes - that Tim would undertake the operation the old fashioned way - which is to say anywhere but a hospital. He wanted to be outdoors with his friends as they reached the pinnacle of a crazy spring bacchanal. Lilly was training to be a vet - not a medical doctor for sure - but she knew her way around a scalpel. And Gwen and Mike were both pre-med. Despite the doctors in training that would be present, Lilly wanted quick access to the highway and a hospital in case something went wrong.

As the fires sputtered then rose to a roar, Tim took center stage addressing a group that had grown to 19 as a few additional friends and significant others were invited to witness clearly a once in a lifetime spectacle.

"Aaaahhhh" Tim started by screaming to the heavens. Marcus was sure Tim had intended a roar - a lions song to welcome his Cybele in on her chariot. But all Tim could muster was a higher pitch, intense shriek. 

"Are we not gods?" he challenged his friends. Craig and Gwen, both feeling no pain and completely getting into the hedonistic show, responded with similar intensity "Fuck Yeeaahhhh". Most others weakly followed with half-hearted cheers, either embarrassed or ashamed that they did not jump in with a faster more energetic response.

"Thank you all for coming." Tim dialed it down a decile. "This is a tremendous gift you are giving to me - to witness, protect and raise me up into my new life. Thank you from the bottom of my heart." And with that Tim took a deep theatrical bow to moderate applause. "But not only did you all supply your presence also but your energy. I could not stop myself from laughing, shouting and 'hurraying' all the wonderful athletes that took to the field early today."

Tim was referring to the 'games' he and Nina had concocted for the daytime activities. 

"So I want to reward all of you with a gift - my token of appreciation for the energy and love you shared." With that Tim bent down to a small knapsack at his feet and removed strands of ribbons with gold and silver medallions.

"What is an Olympics without medals?" He shouted as he turned back to the crowd. 

"Horace - you're up first - please come forward." A slight framed figure with jet back hair, no shirt and shorts almost falling off his thin hips made its way bashfully to Tim.

"Horace - your wresting skills this afternoon where - well let's just say something to behold. I have never seen quite that amount of enthusiasm from someone of your stature." Horace smiled although he wasn't sure why he was recognized for wrestling. By all accounts he got trounced in each match - including the cross gender trial with Nina. But that was OK by him. It was worth the embarrassment of losing in order to grab hold of Nina's muscular thighs, press her close to his hips as he grabbed her waist from behind, or nudge his check up against her cheek in failed attempts to take her down.

"You look puzzled Hor." Tim asked with a smile. "I'm of course referring to the massive boner you displayed in each and every match." The crowd laughed and let out a few catcalls. "I mean, boy or girl, that stiffy shot up every time you joined your opponent in a half nelson or choke hold and especially when you and he squirmed for positioning in the sand. I mean, that was insane. When you stood up I thought a salamander had crawled into your shorts and was squirming for release."

"Oh my god" Craig shouted out "That was his dick? I thought I was laying on a stick". The crowd erupted in laughter. 

"And kudo's to you brother" Tim continued. "I think we can all say that we did not expect the overall size of your effort" with Tim emphasizing the word size. Cheers ensued. Horace held up the medal now with embarrassed pride. As he turned he grabbed his crotch with his free hand to recognize the tool of his achievement.

And it continued. A medal was handed out to everyone. All for various accomplishments. The awards were either for pure athletic prowess, such as Gwens' sharp shooting skills, or more often than not for some sexual innuendo that Tim was able to glean mysteriously from the exercises. 

About midway through the medals Marcus heard his name called. He approached Tim with curiosity and amusement. He wondered what Tim had in store for his recognition. 

"Marcus" Tim started. "You are a special one." He placed a hand on Marcus' shoulder. "As we all know we are here in Austin to learn and achieve. And Marcus epitomizes this spirit of education, learning and improving more than anyone else here. So Marcus you are awarded the medal of letters for your contributions to our study group." There was a bit of a hush. This was the most serious pronouncement Tim had presented so far and completely out of character. Marcus's look turned more quizzical. 

"I mean, you were always there for our young ladies to show them how to shoot a gun, or the proper way to squat when bumping volleyballs." Tim spoke and then laughter emerged. "I mean, you would shimmy right up behind them, get nice and close - so you could show them the proper form." Tim attempted to shimmy up to Marcus's tall frame but he backed off.

"And they seemed to react well to your guidance." Tim continued as he broke off his attempt to get close to Marcus. "I saw many of your students squirm to fit their bodies to your curves. And boy did they try. I saw some noticeably flushed cheeks from Elana in particular as she tried with such diligence to follow your instruction." Elana let out a whoop. "Oddly enough, I never observed you training our young men" Tim continued. "That must have been when I was judging the other sports." Tim gave Marcus a wink and hung the medal around his neck. 

More medals came and went and the night grew darker - the stars brighter - and the flames warmer. The crowd gathered around the campfires as the medal ceremony wrapped up. They grabbed beers and toasted each other's accomplishments while the next event was setup. Mattresses were taken down from a pickup truck and laid on the ground. Four twins were set next to each other and then lined with sheets, blankets and pillows. 

"What the hell" said Horace as he noticed the cushiony platform being setup. "That's kind of an odd place to get your balls cut off" he observed.

Marcus knew Horace was right - that these beds were not intended for a comfortable castration. This was a special surprise. Lilly took him aside to discuss this 'event' with him last week. He felt a pit in his stomach. He was hoping he had talked her out of it. He had failed.

From somewhere in the shadows behind the cars something shimmering caught Marcus's eye. Hints of gold and silver sparkled and it drew closer. Then a pure white gown took shape followed by blonde locks of hair all curly and flowing that was topped with a gold tiara.

Lilly emerged escorted by Gwen and Elana as her matrons. This was Lilly's Athena look; a queen, a goddess, powerful but still soft and glowing. The robes revealed just enough of her form to outline her bosom, waist and motherly hips. Gold chain was wrapped around her waist and strands were left dangling just to the right of center. As she moved forward the gold chain swayed back and forth mirroring her right inner thigh. Sway left. Sway right. Sway left. It could hypnotize the weaker minded into believing her garden was waiting for them. They could visit to smell the flowers, savor the meal, and ravage the flesh. 

Gwen and Elana were in costume as well - though in more modest gowns. Theirs were cut short to reveal their tanned calves and just the hint of soft thighs. The thongs of leather sandals ran up their calves, securing their footwear just below the knees. Their young smooth shoulders were exposed and reflected the moonlight. They were locked arm in arm with Lilly and all three moved towards the soft and inviting dais with giddy amusement and confidence.

"Friends, Romans, Countrymen" Lilly shouted. "Now that I Have your attention I want to reveal a special treat for this evening. As you know we are here for Tim. He is embarking on a particularly brave transition. He desires nothing less than total commitment and focus from himself so that he can change the world and I could not be happier or more proud of such a true man. Any man that should choose to close off the path of carnal pleasure and wanton lust for a higher calling deserves not only our praise but also our devotion. And so - as you know - I have agreed to give myself to this man with all my heart and soul. Together I am confident that our partnership will make us stronger than we could ever be if we were chained to purely the pleasures of our flesh." Some lackluster cheers as she paused.

"Over the past few years I have felt like a sister to some of you and frankly a mother to almost all of you. And as your mother I did my best to offer advice, comfort, love and understanding. Few of you took my advice" she paused for a few chuckles from some that knew firsthand the perils of not heading Lilly's advice "but all of you listened and took comfort. Some of you also took love - and even a few hungrily grabbed love from me in ways that were not so motherly" this brought more laughter and sneers "but I was always willing - and I'd like to think exceptionally able." 

"You know it Lilly" came a shout from Horace. This sent a stir of shock and surprise through the crowd as no one believed the weak little Horace could bed their Goddess.

"I have pledged to Tim a year of chastity to support him as he adjusts to his new form." Marcus could swear he heard Craig mutter 'Bullshit' under his breath. "But that clock doesn't start until later this evening." She paused again with a lascivious smile. "Before mothers become mothers we are first lovers. And tonight I will be a lover to many of you." This was still a bit cryptic and the crowd seemed to whisper a collective "Whaaattt?".

"Tonight I want to be sent off to my year of sexual abstinence by being fucked wildly and with lustful abandon." Silence. "I will pick six of you my friends. And each of the chosen will - one at a time" she emphasized "join me on this bed for a few minutes - or hopefully longer - of the best sex you can muster."

Horace, Mike and Nina already had their hands up as if begging for the teacher to 'pick me, pick me'. Craig began to rush forward but was stopped quickly by Elana that was standing to the side.

"Calm down." Lilly continued well naturedly. "Please let me finish. Your names will be selected randomly from a hat. If you don't want to participate that's fine. We'll just pick another name. But of course I assume most of you will be eager to enter into this lottery. But before you do there is something else you should know. Like almost everything Greek this is in fact a contest. All of you will win a certain amount of pleasure. But the one that succeeds to fucking 'rock my world' the most will capture a very special video I've created for you to remember me by." Coos competed with the crackling sound of the campfires. "But the one that brings me the least pleasure will . . . "Lilly paused.

"Get your balls cut off" Tim shouted as he quickly emerged from the shadows. He was dressed in a Goddess gown similar to Lilly's. He also sported a tiara, and he made his entrance with an exaggerated Mae West walk that was more suiting a burlesque show than a Greek tragedy.

"Before you get too worried" Tim continued "you should know that I will be the last of the six. And - for those of you who haven't noticed - I'm GAAYY!" he emphasized with a girlish pose, one hand on his hip and the other dramatically pointing upward. "So I don't think this is going to be much of a contest. But if you do enter you do have to sear to live by those rules." There was general laughter and agreement when Nina interjected "Do women get to put their names in the hat?"




Myth and Deception: April Fools



"Ooh good question Nina" cooed Lilly. "Unfortunately no. But I will say that if you want to join me now - along with Elana and Gwen - while the boys get their act together - we might be able to muster up some warm up fun on top of these silky covers."

Nina didn't need much more encouragement. She darted toward the threesome - shedding her flip flops and removing her t-shirt on the way. Lilly took a step back bracing herself for the oncoming locomotive, but Nina stopped short, and wrapped Lilly in a loving embrace and passionate kiss. The two other girls took the queue to remove their skimpy white linens' and to fall to the mattress while Tim motioned for the men to gather around his outstretched arm which was holding a plastic roman soldiers helmet purchased at local discount costume store.

Marcus was honestly more interested in the mattress and took a few steps forward to get a better view. Nina had released Lilly, who was now free to join Elana and Gwen as they tangled up their limbs in a ball of pink and tan snakes coiling around each other. Nina was bent over shimmying her shorts down her legs. Once again Marcus got a full view of her sweet ass cheeks and it reminded him of that afternoon two months ago. He smiled and sighed. His dick came to life. He tried to capture Elana's glance but she was too busy. He flashed for a moment Elana's look of out of her mind lust just before Marcus speared Nina from behind. 'Phlupp, phlupp.' His dick now felt uncomfortably constrained.

The other women of the group - who had nothing better to do while the boys got their names in the lottery - crowded around the mattress. Most had never really witnessed anything close to this type of wanton abandon and they gaped at the scene, mouths wide, their arms crossing their own breasts and waistlines either in mock protection, or with an urge to start pleasing themselves at the sight of the foursome. Marcus backed up to give the women a better view and made his way over to the hat.

"Ah - so happy you could join us" chirped Tim. 

"Hmm" grunted Marcus. "I don't know if this is such a good idea." 

"Oh really? I would have thought you would be begging for a chance to have Lilly. I know you have a thing for blondes." Tim cajoled.

"Not just blondes" Marcus replied almost automatically but then snapped back to the issue. "I mean, why does she want to do this to herself in such a public forum. Lilly, she really is special. At least I always thought so. I mean I get sexual desire and I'm no prude, but somehow I thought she had more self-respect than this. She's the type of woman that . . . "

". . . You could take home to mom!" Tim finished Marcus's thought for him.

"No, no - not like that." Marcus corrected Tim. "She's the type of woman that can have power and control. She can be managing important shit one day. I get why you picked her for this stunt you're pulling. I mean, I don't think cutting off your balls is going to give you a spine man - but if that's what it takes to win Lilly, I get it."

Tim chuckled. "Well Marcus you are wrong about me - but you are so right about Lilly." Tim countered. "Look do this or don't do this - it's your call. You've never judged me and I'll never judge you, OK?"

"OK" Marcus replied. 

"As for Lilly, this is something Lilly wanted to do." Tim shifted to full sincerity mode. "I'm not sure I understand it 100% - but I think it is about her control, and frankly some really vivid fantasies she's shared with me. I had nothing to do with it. I mean I'm about to make a fool of myself out there with my limp dick trying to satisfy a woman's vagina - so I'd be totally OK taking a pass on this particular Greek Challenge. But fuck, Lilly is going to spend the rest of her life hitched to me so I feel I can play the fool here on Aprils fool." 

Another name got added to the hat in Tim's outstretched arm. 

Marcus turned his head to the crowd hovering over the mattress. Elana's distinct guttural moan could be heard rising through the air. The crowd uttered a collective gasp at the sight. Marcus saw one woman - a guest for the evening - reach not so discretely into her own shorts. The woman seemed to lean on one leg as the other seemed to grow weak from her own exploration.

"Sure." He shouted to Tim who had turned his back to Marcus to collect the names from the faux Roman helmet. "Put my name in." Tim turned, smiled and pulled a pen out from behind his Athena wig.

Despite the stiff competition Marcus's name was pulled. He was number five, behind Craig, Horace, a guest named Reynaldo and Steve. After Marcus, Tim would be the anti-climax and the group would move onto the main event.

Lilly was lying on her back with her eyes closed and moaning. Nina and Elana were on each of Lilly's sides, caressing, kissing and fondling. Lilly's pink breasts were exposed but a red silk sheet covered her lower half. Under the silk some form was rocking slowly up and down and side to side. Lilly's knees were in the upright position, giving the creature below the red covering full access. The worm wiggling under the sheet was Gwen, and her head was obviously perched just above Lilly's sex. Gwen's feet spilled out from under the sheets and they moved in lazy sways like the twin tails of some exotic fish.

Marcus could easily make out the shape of Gwen's curvy body lying there on the bed beneath the red sea. It reminded him of some shapely sea creature swimming in the tide pools, hungrily searching for food.

Lilly suddenly gave out a low guttural moan. She raised her head to look at the worm under the red and she began to pant. Nina and Elana now shot a glance to each other with wide mouth smiles. Their hands increased their intensity as they covered Lilly's breasts with warm caresses.

Lilly found herself placing one hand on top of the red covers just where Gwen's mermaid head was studying Lilly's goddess shell. Lilly held her hand there for a moment, breathing deeply as the red skull under her hand slowly swayed back and forth. Then, as if wanting to be devoured by some alien creature, she forced the mouth and teeth of the skull down deep into her crotch. 

From under the covers it was obvious the mermaid was surprised. The red form stiffened. Its feet straightened and spread apart a bit. The red head under Lilly's pressing palm seemed to struggle for a moment - as if trying to catch its breath after having been deprived of oxygen. But after a moment it adjusted and now understood and felt the urgency. The red form wriggled with more energy. It bobbed. It pressed itself into Lilly's hips; into the mattress itself.

Lilly threw her head back to the pillow. Veins were popping from her neck. Her cheeks blushed. Dark pink blotches appeared on her fair chest as the blood rushed to her nerve endings. Nina pressed one hand firmly on Lilly's tit and gave it a good squeeze while she reached in and kissed the nape of Lilly's neck with the hunger of a vampire seeking fresh blood. She was rewarded as Lilly then shot her other hand in between Nina's wrestler thighs and applied some welcome pressure to her pussy. 

Elana watched, wide eyed and panting. She used one of her own hands to squeeze her pussy lips together - then darted her middle finger deep inside her dripping vagina. The women from the sidelines all took in Elana's very familiar exercise as she darted one finger in and around her sex. She withdrew the finger and stroked her clit before diving two fingers back in and stirring her hot cauldron. She was a witch feverishly stirring a love potion. 

The witch, mermaid, vampire and goddess writhed on the red and white sheets. Breathless desire filled their space with a low hum of moans. 

Marcus watched as each supernatural woman on the bed seemed to struggle with enjoying their own selfish passion versus observing the passion of the other three. He watched Elana as she closed her eyes; concentrating on her own fingers that were stroking her lips, her clit and then plunging deep inside. Then he saw her open her eyes and stare at Nina's feasting upon Lilly's neck. 

Then Lilly's eye's popped open to stare almost blankly up into the dark star filled heavens. Lilly hurled deep, wanting breaths to the heavens. She seemed to be pleading some cause - requesting the gods for some mercy. Her hand left the red orb and cradled Nina's head as it suckled on her neck. Her eyes opened even wider.

Elana desired to be part of the ecstasy. She desired to be even more connected to the scene - to the women - to Lilly. Elana removed her hand from her sex and raised the wet and glistening ladle to Lilly's mouth. Lilly smelled the delicious brew before she saw her hand and instinctively opened her mouth. Elana danced her fingers over Lilly's lips and tongue, dribbling the potion as a tease. Lilly smiled and closed her eyes. She licked her lips - then she sucked on two of Elana's fingers - gently at first. Then she drew them deep and lovingly into her mouth. She played with them with her tongue. She felt them tickle and probe the base of her throat.

Almost at once the gods answered Lilly's entreaty. The smell of sex; the embrace of women; the pressure and probing of both of her lips was enough. Lilly's brow furrowed in concentration and anticipation. Her back arched, almost throwing Nina from her lovers embrace. Gwen, knowing the time had come, pressed her head and Lilly's hips further into the ground. 

Lilly was anchored by Nina at the neck and Gwen at the hips - but her midsection threw itself in the air and writhed and heaved. It spasmed to and fro. Her legs straightened and trembled, kicking off red covers and exposing both her own and Gwen's pale legs. The crowd could spot wet moist puddles of excitement on the sheets below Lilly's and Gwen's crotch. Marcus could see several women reach for the inside of their own skirts or shorts unable to withstand the erotic scene any longer.

For several more moments the trembling continued. All four women seemed to collapse onto each other and writhe in painful delight. Lilly's thighs were now clasped around Gwen's head as if never wanting to let it go. 

Then the female sirens began to slowly relax. Gwen, released from the death grip of Lilly's thighs, wormed her way up Lilly's chest, consciously rubbing Lilly's pools of sex on her own body. All four women now hugged, smiled and giggled in a warm embrace; like wicked sisters at a reunion. The crowd began to murmur. It seemed to Marcus like the group didn't know how to react - should they applaud, laugh along with women, or just pretend to not be there so as not to destroy the intimacy the women just discovered.

Lilly had one arm around Elana and the other around Nina. Gwen rested her head on Lilly's chest and the four caught their breath. Marcus saw Lilly's golden locks frame her face and a look of contentment come over her as she maternally welcomed the other three women to her bosom. 

He wasn't feeling well.

Tim put an arm around Craig and escorted him through the picket line of men and women that had gathered to witness the intoxicating scene. "Ladies and Gentlemen" Tim called out as the crowd now included both genders equally fighting for good sight lines. "We have our first challenger." 

Tim's interruption was met with obvious disappointment from the three girls. They looked longingly at Lilly, as if pleading with her to delay the intrusion. Lilly kissed them in a sweet good bye. 

Gwen stood up. Her red hair was in disarray and she looked like a rag doll. Her eyes were clear but distant. Gwen was the only D cup in the crowd and her ample bosom jiggled noticeably as she dismounted from the mattress. She passed Craig on the way. "I got her all good and warmed up for you" she whispered. Craig smelled the salty fluids that came from Lilly and smiled. 

Craig disrobed - which consisted simply of dropping his shorts since he was already half naked - and jumped on the bed with enthusiasm. Lilly laughed while also curling up in a bit of a ball afraid the large frame of the free love hippie would crash down on her. Craig's cock flapped up and down as he made his way the few short steps to her side and he dove with a thud to the space next to her. 

Elana looked for Marcus. Marcus caught her glance and almost apologetically motioned to the mattress and held up the number five with his hand. Elana smiled, winked then grabbed the hand of nearby male - John - and hauled him off to the warmth of the fire. She joined Nina who was already wrestling some young man to the ground in the hopes to quench her own fire one more time.

"You never want to go first." Tim whispered in Marcus' ear as he sidled up to him. Tim extended a bottled beer to Marcus and held out his own longneck for a clink. "To my life without balls" he toasted as Marcus forced a smile and took a long deep sip. 

"I once was in this orgy in Cancun" Tim continued after taking a gulp. "Similar idea, one guy - we call them bottoms - was in the middle of the group and each man well, takes a turn. I was an idiot and jumped in first - almost elbowing this small Puerto Rican to the ground."

"Well I had zero stamina and I was so turned on and hadn't yet adjusted to all the sensory overload. Well I don't think I lasted 3 minutes and didn't get my dick past his lips." Tim seemed to be reflective, looking past Lilly and Craig and somewhere well to the south of Austin. "Now, they were nice lips, but still. It's best to go towards the end." 

There was a pause and Tim came back to this place and the action on the ground. "Ooh - I can already tell this isn't good. He moved way too quickly. He's already heading towards fucking her - and in missionary position no less. No, no, I don't give him more than another minute and Lilly will be - well happy to get on to the next young man. If I didn't know my own weakness, I'd think we might be snipping Craig's undercarriage later on." Tim smiled and made a motion of scissors cutting with the fingers of his left hand. Marcus caught this and thought "what a weird dude."

"Well I'm off to mingle and prepare- here's to a good shagging" and Tim offered his bottle for one last clink. Marcus absent mindedly reciprocated brought the bottle to his lips and drained the remaining ounces. Tim turned and walked to the shadows, swaying his hips in his Athena gown in case anyone was watching.

Tim was right and Craig didn't manage an effort for too long. It was not a total disaster however. Craig was aided by an unusually long - though thin - cock. And this was a sensation that Lilly was unaccustomed to. So despite his unconscionable lack of foreplay, Lilly did settle into a rhythm as Craig guided his long penis to her awaiting vagina, slowly penetrated her and then began to swivel, exit, swivel and exit. 

The 'Elvis' thrusting, in slow methodical strokes, reached places that Gwen and the girls are not anatomically able to reach and she felt a new warmth come over her abdomen. She decided to go with it. She matched her hip movement to Craig's and lifted her knees higher, sticking her hips out a bit more and feeling his long rod reach even deeper. She grunted at the sensation. 

She opened her eyes after several strokes to catch Craig's gaze, but he was absolutely mesmerized in his own world. Lilly imagined he was singing a refrain of 'Blue Suede Shoes' inside his head as he attempted to rock her world. She smiled to herself. She moved her arms from his neck to his rib cage and danced. Shimmy and shake. Twist and Shout. She matched his rotations, enjoying the deep reaches as much as the teases where his purple cap would play with her swollen lips. 

Then she began to feel Craig tense. "C'mon Craig, just a few more bump and grinds" she said to herself. He made three more before he thrust deep, arching his back and forcing his hips to grind up against her vulva and clit. He spasmed and she felt the warm seed inside her and his long member twitch, tickling the top of her womb and sending her into a small but efficient orgasm. She pulled herself up to feel her breasts smash against Craig's heaving chest. She felt his rapid heartbeat pounding and her hips jolted forward, grasping at what remained of Craig's engorged cock. She held that position for as long as she could and then finally threw her head down and back. Her Athena hair now completely undone and flowing around her like a lions mane. Craig continued to pant, looked down and smiled. 

"How'd I do?" he wheezed. 

"Well, I think your balls are safe today." She gasped back, smiled back up at him and gave him a wink.

Craig dismounted with the same enthusiasm that he started with. The crowd cleared a path for him as he stumbled off the mattress, limbs flying. Steven and Charese caught him and kept him upright. Craig thought their arms were outstretched for a high five, and he awkwardly attempted to complete the gesture only to be left hanging. He 'whooped' and made his way to his clothes.

"Now for our second challenger" Gwen announced and escorted Horace to the mattress.

Horace and Lilly in fact had some sexual history together - to the earlier surprise of the crowd. And so Horace approached with some unusual confidence. He laid down to Lilly's right. She was still catching her breath a bit. He propped himself on one elbow, looking across to her. He placed his hand on her slightly sweaty belly button and seemed to bring a calming peace to her composure. 

After a few minutes she propped herself up on one elbow to face him and then smiled. It was a friendly smile. They caressed and kissed. They were passionate - though not lustful kisses. Horace leaned in to kiss the nape of her neck then her shoulders. She closed her eyes to Horace and the outside world, and relaxed, giving into the sensation, the tenderness and kindness.

After a while she rolled Horace on his back and straddled him. His thick 7 inch cocked was now pressed up against his stomach, looking up at him. She ground her hips into him, forcing more blood up and into his member, turning it yet another shade of purple. Then she gently cupped the head of his cock that appeared and disappeared between their skin with a free hand. 

She settled into another rhythm. She grinded and rubbed. She stopped, licked the palm of her hand, and placed it back on his purple manhood, the saliva now creating a well lubricated seal between her palm and the sensitive underside of his cock. He closed his eyes and reached his hands for the soft skin of her knees and thighs that were riding up against his torso. 

When Lilly straddled on top of Horace, Marcus recognized the Lilly he saw every day in their non-sexual lives. He stood behind Lilly - not more than 15 feet away. Even in the moonlight he caught her toned arms and back. He saw the dimples of her lower back as she rocked on top of Horace's hips. 

He walked to get a better view. Now he was viewing her from the side. He caught her profile as her pert tits, hardened by the night air and sexual play, swayed with each of her hip grinds. Her body absolutely shimmered. "A goddess" he thought. The crowd was silent. No catcalls or quiet laughter that had accompanied Craig's performance. This was Lilly in her most sensual with a man. Pleasing but controlling; completely focused on one and only one thing. 

She stared only at Horace as he lay prone on the mattress, rubbing her thighs. She lay her other hand on his hand and together they caressed her skin. She closed her eyes for a few moments - feeling the entire sensual experience around her - the cool breeze, the light touch, and the pulsing cock that she knew could explode it's semen at any point. 

But Lilly also knew her power and control. She slowed her movement and relaxed her hips to slow the sensation that was building up in Horace's underbelly. They looked at each other and giggled. He did a sit up to kiss her again and then she pushed him back down and gave a swift grind and squeeze to his sensitive member.




Myth and Deception: April Fools



And so it went like this for minutes. And as it progressed Lilly felt some tingling in her own hips. The wet and viscous juice from her pussy was spilling over Horace's cock and lubricating where her hips met his. They sloshed together in the rapidly collecting fluid. She was working her own pussy lips apart and now her clit was exposed and rubbing against the thick shaft of Horace's almost always erecting member. 

She shifted directions - hoping to reach the spot of her own arousal. She pushed hard forward and indeed tickled the spot she needed. Now she pushed hard forward again. She closed her eyes and concentrated. Hard forward and slow back. Horace was grinding and had his head back in concentration. She was fixated on summoning her orgasm while Horace was trying to slow down his eruption.

It started with her moan. Animalistic. A growl from her chest. The moan vibrated her torso and sent shivers through her body that unleashed tiny electric shocks. Now she ground forward hard. And hard again. She clenched Horace's hand in white knuckled pleasure. She opened her eyes wide and stared down at him. He felt her goddess gaze, opened his eyes and their eyes met and locked on. 

They both bucked forward now in a frenzy. The sheets that had been providing modest cover were now abandoned, swept away by their motion and energy. Then another wave of electricity hit her. She squeezed down on Horace's pelvis, trying to pull herself into him, down to him, down to the ground. And he released. His purple head shot pure white creamy cum up his torso. The first ribbon flew and reached his chin. The others landed in puddles and streams on his chest hair, in his belly button, on his tit. 

Lilly continued to shake as Horace's spasm sent another set of erotic signals through her ever increasingly sensitive groin. And then she fell forward. She caught herself by her hands and caught her breath. Her slick breasts were just inches from Horace's chest and mouth. She noticed his sweaty and slimy skin with rivulets of cum beginning to puddle. 

She observed the damage that had been done and smiled wickedly. With two fingers she scooped up some of the copious amount of cum collecting in the middle of Horace's chest. It danced and twirled on her lithe digits as she manipulated it skyward. Then - perhaps for the amusement of the crowd as much as anything - she brought her fingers to Horace's lips, dripping with sticky goo. 

He smiled ravenously. Like a baby bird he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue looking to be fed. Lilly dipped her fingers down and let the goo slide off her fingers and into the waiting beak. She stuck her fingers in his mouth. He sucked at them hard while she removed her slippery digits from his lips, now clean of his man cum. He swallowed and smiled.

This created a buzz. Some women were out of their mind. To them it was just so hot. Her control. The intensity of her orgasm. His symbolic servitude. Two women now kneeled at the side of the podium, spread their legs and without regard for the other people around them, viciously attacked their own clits.

But Marcus had had enough. This whole scene was making him increasingly sad. He moved backward, away from the crowd and sat himself down on a picnic bench. He dropped his head between his knees and from the short distance he heard Reynaldo get introduced. He didn't care. He sat there almost numb. 

His world felt out of kilter. In his mind this wasn't right. She was his queen. No - not his queen - everyone's queen. Lilly had proven to be the smartest, funniest and perhaps most wicked woman he had ever known or might hope to know. She ruled over their small band with generosity, toughness and laughter. 

"My queen cannot be a whore" he whispered out loud to himself and immediately regretted it. 'She liked sex' he countered with himself. 'That doesn't make her a whore.' He was justifying this new order of things. I sleep around, why can't she? If it were me lying prone on a mattress with maidens offering their bodies I would feel like a king. He pictured himself ravaging strange, faceless women. In an instant all types of body shapes flashed in front of him. They sucked his dick. They got on all fours, beckoning him to spear their flesh. A redhead pulled his hair and ordered him to fuck her in the ass. He was King.

"And now our next challenger . . . " time was moving fast. His head kept spinning.

"Fuck" he muttered aloud. And then she's going to give up her life for that weird dramatic schmuck that will never every be able to take her to the heights of physical joy that he knew he could. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

He felt queasy. He fell to his knees and threw up. 

"What is wrong with me." He wondered. He spat out the remains of his regurgitated insides, took a deep breath and looked to the stars. He scanned them and found Orion. He fixated on that small collection of stars. He breathed. He breathed again.

"Hey Marcus" he heard Gwens' voice. "It's time. You ready?" 

"God no." He whispered but Gwen didn't hear. Marcus managed a hand wave to the red head and stood up. He followed Gwen to what he now viewed as the pit of hell.

Lilly immediately knew something was wrong. The short interval required to fetch Marcus from his temporary sanctuary at the picnic table had given her more time than usual to gain composure and prepare. She had feelings for Marcus and wondered how he - compared to all her chance lovers - was going to react to this spectacle. She could tell it was not good.

Marcus stumbled on to the mattress. At Gwen's urging he had managed to remove his shirt and socks but his shorts were still secured to his waist. He was already perspiring and seemed almost to pour himself into Lilly's waiting arms and bosom.

"Hey, hey, it's all right" she whispered in his ear. "What's wrong? What's going on?".

Marcus panted and smelled her skin. Her flowery perfumes had now given way to sweat, man cum, her cum, saliva and earth. He felt he was going to be sick again. He pulled away and rolled on his back.

Lilly concentrated on his eyes. But the crowd was clearly fixated on his crotch. 

"Hey, take 'em off Marcus" someone yelled hoping to encourage the next act to begin. But there was little movement. The crowd just saw hushed whispers being exchanged in the air between the fair skinned Goddess and the darker skinned Hunter.

Marcus studied the stars and smiled. Then he turned to her and whispered. "Lilly, you are our Queen. You have to know that I love and care deeply about you. But this - this is wrong" his voice trailed off. "It's wrong for You" he emphasized with the little strength he had. 

"I can't . . do . . this." And his gaze was lost up in the stars again. 

"Marcus, it's OK. Just relax. You don't have to do anything . . . " she replied but was cut off by Marcus as his eyes frantically searched for hers.

"No - it's' not that. I mean I've thought a lot about us over the years" he said almost defensively. "I thought a lot about us in bed" he confessed. "But this whole thing is not right. Tim and you are just wrong. This is not how to rule." Marcus saw his Athena looking back at him; shimmering, hard, soft and tough all at once. But then Athena's brow furrowed. Did he see a tear?

Lilly broke the gaze with Marcus and seemed to be searching for something or someone in the crowd. She turned her attention back to Marcus.

"Marcus, don't worry about a thing. You're right, this has gone too far" and she rubbed sweat from his forehead. "Tim!" she yelled and searched the crowd again. He heard a few others calling the name of the future eunuch. Then he closed his eyes and dreamed of Athena. 

Lilly urgently called out for Gwen and Steven, the two pre-med students. They crossed onto the mattress and established Marcus had just passed out. Two more Greek wannabees joined them and the four of them carried the deflated Marcus from the bed to the cot that had been set up for Tim. The crowd stood stunned and aghast. 

Tim, observing from the back edge of the crowd smiled a wicked smile. It was his turn and contrary to his previous statements he felt up to the challenge. As insurance the Viagra he had popped a bit ago and it was just kicking in. "I hope Lilly likes it in the ass" he thought as he walked to the edge of the mattresses.

 

Late on April's Fools Night.

Marcus body was limp - exhausted from the entire experience - not the least of which was the unplanned surgery that separated the source of his manhood from the rest of his body. 

But his mind was firing. Images of gods, and goddesses filled his mind. Cybele - mother god of Greece - swept him up in her Lion pulled Chariot. Her face was Lilly's but her body had the muscles of a male warrior but with oversized breasts. 

Orion, Marcus' champion, fell from the sky and took mortal shape. He met Cybele's chariot, ready to do battle and force her to release her captive. But Marcus didn't know if he wanted to be released. Orion raised his bow ready to fire and then poof Marcus was tripping again. Now queer little Tim was dancing around as a theatrical eunuch. He had several medals draped over his neck. He played a lute with a high and annoying pitch. 

Then poof, Elana was staring at him just like the night a couple months earlier. Her eyes were rolled back in her head and she was panting with lust and desire. He couldn't match her lust and he forced himself to look away - ashamed.

Then something woke Marcus from his nightmare.

"Marcus. Marcus. Can you hear me?" Her voice floated to him through his haze and finally grabbed his consciousness. "Marcus, wake up. Wake up."

He opened his eyes. Standing above him was Athena - albeit a wilder version. Her tiara was gone, but her curls hung to frame that perfect face. Her face was a bit flushed. But then her cheekbones rose and her eyes twinkled a smile as Marcus displayed consciousness.

"Oh my god. Thank god" Lilly exhaled. She clasped her hands on his cheeks, and then wiped his brow.

"I told you he'd be OK" came the queer voice form somewhere in the darkness. 

"Shut up Tim" Lilly scolded. "I don't know who is more of an idiot, Tim or me? I never should have agreed to this prank."

'Prank' Marcus thought. Craig's comment from a couple months earlier came back to him. "I'd be pretty pissed if someone cut off my balls for Aprils Fool" he remembered Craig saying and then he winced.

He tried to 'feel' what was going on down there - but in truth he really couldn't feel anything.

"Am I OK?" he managed to say as Lilly was still scolding Tim.

"What? Oh yes, thank god yes." Lilly turned her attention back to Marcus.

"Did you . . . I mean I can't believe you cut off my balls" and Marcus actually smiled a bit at the sound of the statement. It was so absolutely ridiculous.

"Well that's the thing Marcus" Lilly stammered then looked away to avoid eye contact with Marcus. "I never should have agreed to do this" she said aloud but intended for herself. She finally raised her head and looked directly at Marcus who was waiting for the other testicle to drop. "We didn't. Your balls - I'm sure you will be happy to hear - are fully intact. It was all a prank."

Marcus was speechless. In slow motion he moved his now free hands to feel for his marbles. Had he imagined it all? Did he make up the image of Lilly with the scalpel? He had passed out, but the dream- the scorpion? He was a vanquished hunter succumbing to the goddess.

"Let me explain" Tim tried to interject.

"No" Lilly snapped. "I bear the responsibility" and she turned back to Marcus. "I'm going to explain and then I'm sure you'll have lots of questions" she paused for some acknowledgement. She didn't receive any and so moved on. 

"Tim had an idea for an April's Fools prank inspired by the Greek gods Cybele and Attis. There were four of us in on it. Tim, Elana, Gwen and myself. We set the whole thing up. At first we were going to pretend to castrate Tim in public. The joke would be on the group. It would be part of a big party - and - well - no one would get hurt because everyone involved would be in on the joke."

"But then . . ." she paused. "Then we wondered if we could convince some man to really think he was getting castrated. And to get him to volunteer for it" she laughed a nervous laugh. "I mean, that would be a wild prank - and so Greek. But I guess we never thought it would happen - I mean who would agree to it? And if no one did - fine - Tim would be the one."

Lilly's eyes softened. She placed a hand on Marcus' chest. An apologetic smile crossed her lips. 

"But you were so sweet last week when you tried to convince me not to go through with it." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I suppose . . . I guess I knew we could probably take advantage of your feelings for me . . . " her voice trailed off. 

Marcus searched Lilly's face for some trace of the Goddess he once knew. But the glow and the strength were gone. For the first time he saw the red blood shot eyes - the tired lines that made her look older than her 21 years. Her hand felt tough as it rubbed his chest. It was covered in calluses or in a hard shell. She was the Scorpion. 

Lilly paused. She straightened her back. 'Was she getting ready to sting?' Marcus wondered.

"Oh for Christ sake" Tim slid into view. "I'll tell him if you can't." Marcus glanced at Tim and that was more than enough for the thespian to take control. 

"Listen Marcus I know it seems really twisted - but if you think about it - it was the best Aprils' Fools joke ever. We did it man! The crowd went crazy." Marcus blinked hard.

"I have to admit" Tim continued, "I really didn't think you'd be the one. I mean Marcus would never let someone get close to his balls with a knife . . . "

"My balls - did you - I mean I thought I saw you cut them off? " Marcus was looking at Lilly.

"No, no - we were never going to do that man" Tim said in a jovial, albeit not too reassuring voice. "It was all misdirection. You actually passed out before the good part. Lilly had smuggled some testies of a poor Great Dane - "Lilly's face went pale when Tim mentioned her name "- out of one of her classes. After you passed out she showed them off as yours." Tim started laughing again at the retelling of the sick prank. "I mean you should have seen the group. They were all over the place. Nina actually threw up."

Marcus was processing. Finally a sense of warm relief flooded his body. His hands reached for his crotch. His muscles relaxed. Then just as quickly he tasted his own bile. He felt sick.

"I'll be honest" Tim was droning on, "my early money was on Craig. I was betting that druggie would be so strung out during our spring bacchanal that he'd agree to anything. We never, never thought it would be you. But then when Lilly told me about how you tried to stop her . . . well sorry guy, but you became our best candidate." Tim placed his hand on Marcus' shoulder with a friendly pat. Marcus skin prickled.

"Still I really expected that I'd be the one on the cot, trying my best to 'act' like I was terrified" Tim smiled down at Marcus. "I could never have pulled it off like you did. The cold sweats - then passing out! Oscar worthy - absolutely Oscar worthy" Tim chortled. "It's really a great lesson for me about motivation. I mean, you really love Lilly - and it just shows you what a person will do to their body for love" Tim had placed an arm over the shoulder of an uncomfortable Lilly.

Marcus shut his eyes. In his mind he called upon Orion. He pictured the god - traveling from those distant stars - at the speed of light to his side. Orion - in a blaze of light, cunning and ferocity - calls his enemies to account. Pathetically Tim, the eunuch cowers on the ground, prostrated as he begs forgiveness. 

Elana and Gwen stand beside Tim, looking fiercely into Orion's eyes. They are Amazon women wanting to do battle. But Orion provides no opportunity for them to prove themselves in battle and skewers the three with his spear. They erupt in a cloud of light and disintegrate into the darkness. 

Orion turns to Lilly. She appears as Artemis, the love of Orion's life. She shows no fear and advances to meet Orion to become his lover. But before she can embrace the hunter she is transformed. She becomes the Scorpion. Her red eyes glow with menace and danger. She readies to attack - to lash out - to sting and drive her poison into his flesh.

Marcus pictures Orion and for the first time sees fear in his face. He sees that Orion is surprised by the transformation. Orion is facing his death - again - at the hands of this creature that sent him into the heavens. He readies for the attack.

And in the night he watches as the two dance. They spar, poke and jab. 

And in the next instant, Orion finds a clean angle, swings his sword, and he chops off the head of the Scorpion.

All the lights disintegrate and fade in his mind. Orion rushes back to his place in the universe. Marcus breaths and listens. 'Sloop-slish' go the waves. He hears the breathing of strangers standing above him. He opens his eyes. He doesn't recognize anyone. They call his name. They look vaguely familiar. But if he knew them once he doesn't know them now. And Marcus is gone.



Myth Debunked



Ian was on a roll. With the second draft of lyrics well under way and the melody writing itself, he knew he'd finally gotten it. He'd finally written a love song to rival all love songs. Honest, pure, impossible to ignore: exactly what he was going for. Becca had to listen to this. She'd have no choice but to love him and allow herself to be loved in return. He's just started mapping chord progressions when someone knocked on his door.

Becca wasn't due for an hour, and he wasn't expecting any packages, so he tiptoed to the door slowly, trying not to alert the stranger to his presence. The missionaries had been out of late, energized by the warming weather and the temporal proximity to Easter. But the stranger on the other side of his door wasn't a missionary, at least he didn't think so. He opened the door to his shirtless neighbor just enough to peek his head out.

"Can I help you?" He eyed the blond suspiciously. This...Russell person who lived next door, he never wore a shirt, always waved to his Becca, and could frequently be seen doing push-ups on his front lawn. He was competition, plain and simple, the very reason he wrote a love song in the first place. If he didn't convince Becca to want him soon, she'd likely end up with this Russell fellow, and he looked the type to ruin her for other men.

Russell quirked a brow at Ian's question, though Ian didn't find much confusing about it.

"Can I help you?" he asked again, feeling his eyes narrow.

Russell cleared his throat. "Yes, I... I definitely think you can." He smirked in a way that Ian found infuriating.

"Well?" Ian was already tired of this idiot. "What do you want?"

"My pussy."

"Excuse me?"

"My cat. He's on your roof."

"I didn't know you had a cat." He definitely didn't have a cat. And if he was looking for his "pussy" as euphemism, Ian didn't like it one bit. First of all, Becca was not his. Second, she should never be referred to in such a way. And third, Becca was definitely not his.

"I just bought him yesterday," said Russell. "I named him Willow, as in Pussy. Willow. I thought it would be funny." He chuckled but let it die off. "Guess I was wrong."

Giving him the benefit of the doubt, and seeing as Becca wasn't around to be flirted with, Ian asked politely, "Well, what do you want me to do about it?"

"Can I come inside?" Again with that stupid ass grin. "I'll be quick, in and out. Then you can continue pretending not to notice me."

What the hell was that supposed to mean, Ian wondered. Notice him hitting on his girl? Notice him showing off in the street for all the world to see? He hadn't been covert in his observations of these things. Ian watched through his blinds like a stalker and glared menacingly whenever the three of them were within yards of one another.

"Be quick about it," said Ian, stepping aside. "Becca will be home soon."

Russell nodded and walked in, taking a look around. "Did you decorate yourself?"

"Becca helped. Actually, I pretty much just funded it. She does whatever she wants in our house." He was sure to put emphasis on the "our".

"So... She's your girlfriend?"

Ian's first instinct was to blurt out a "yes" and tell Russell to get a move on, but he found he couldn't lie about this. What if Becca liked the guy? What if she preferred him over Ian? How could he ruin her happiness? He sighed. "No. She's not my girlfriend. But I'm working on it." He glanced over to the wastebasket, overflowing with his failed attempts at declaration. Russell followed his gaze to the pile of crumpled sheet music and sighed as well.

"Ahh... Love'll drive a man nuts," he said, clapping a hand on Ian's shoulder. "That's why I make it a point to never fall in love. Keep it fun. Avoid intense emotion; it's the only way to stay sane out there."

Ian stiffened. "Don't you have a cat to save?"

"There's a window with roof access on your house. Which one is it?"

Ian thought it through. There were actually two windows with roof access. One in his bedroom, and one in Becca's. "This way," he said, heading for his own room. "You can climb out through here."

Russell followed him up the stairs, keeping oddly quiet for such an obnoxious ass until they reached Ian's room.

"Niiice," he drawled, running his hands over Ian's sheets. "Your not-quite-girlfriend pick these out too?"

Ian blushed, the rich satin had actually been his own doing. And though Becca's possible enjoyment had been a largely motivating factor, she'd never even seen his bed. Any time she'd tried to enter Ian's bedroom, he found some excuse to get her back into the hallway. God only knew what would happen if he had Becca alone in his room. Whatever it was would likely be more embarrassing than smooth.

Instead of answering Russell's question, Ian gestured toward the window.

"Better get after my Pussy," Russell said with a smirk, trailing his finger along Ian's bed as he made his way over to the window. He raised the blinds and flipped the lock with ease, but when he pushed upward the glass wouldn't budge.

"There's a latch there," Ian offered. "Here, let me."

"I got it," Russell protested, angling himself to push harder. The window groaned and let out a CRACK.

"You're gonna break it." Ian tried to shove Russell out of the way, but he was surprisingly solid. Instead, he ducked under the man's arms, finding the right button easily and releasing the sash. With a grunt Russell lurched forward as the window unexpectedly sprang up, taking both his and Ian's hands with it.

"Shit!" They both yelled. Ian landed on his knees and immediately brought his finger to his lips. He tasted blood, but the pain had already receded. Russell hadn't fared as well.

"Fuuuckk," he groaned from the floor. He help one palm to his forehead, which he seemed to have bashed against the windowsill, while his other hand ghosted over his crotch, as though afraid to touch.

Ian turned professional in a moment, removing Russell's hand from his face and inspecting the damage. He would have a good-sized bump on his head, might need a doctor, but would probably be fine with some ice and an Advil. And yet, he still groaned in pain.

"You'll be fine, asshole. It's just a bump," he admonished, tapping the bruise for good measure.

"It's not that, you dick, it's my leg. You elbowed me and it fuckin' kills."

"Where did I get you?"

Russell motioned to the crease of his thigh, just where his leg met his pelvis. A very sensitive area.

"You'll be fine in a minute."

"What, you're a doctor now?" Russell asked through gritted teeth. "Feels like I got stabbed in the nuts."

"I'm an officer, and this is nothing serious. Trust me. Just massage the muscle until it relaxes and the stinging sensation will cease."

"You've had this happen to you?" Russell seemed hesitant to touch the tender area, but eventually gave in. It wasn't getting better on its own.

"Once or twice," Ian admitted. "Violent drunks with bad aim will do that for you."

Russell hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes closed as he rubbed along his thigh, his face slowly smoothing as his body visibly relaxed. Ian remembered the feeling. The few times he'd experienced something like this, his entire torso had locked up. Everything from his ass to his abs had become so tight it did not nothing but magnify the pain. Getting loose seemed like a miracle. The relief had been so great, it was almost orgasmic.

It probably helped that he'd thought of his Becca while attempting to calm his body and relax. Only the opposite had happened, hadn't it? As the pain had receded, the flood of endorphins hit him hard, turning his goal from relaxation to pleasure. A new type of stiffness had overtaken him and he'd been forced to ride it out to its conclusion each time.

Almost on cue, Russell let out a moan. As Ian's eyes focused, he suddenly realized what he was doing. His unseeing eyes had been transfixed on Russell's hand the entire time, watching him rub perilously close to his groin for minutes on end while he'd been lost in memories of jerking off. And what's worse, he was almost hard from it. Ian dithered, debating whether or not to remind Russell of his presence. He didn't want to call attention to himself and his "condition", but if he didn't stop the man soon, he was likely to start wanking right there on his bedroom floor.

Ian glanced again toward Russell's face, just to be sure his eyes were still closed. Only... they weren't. Russell's eyes were wide open and transfixed on Ian's crotch. Ian let out an involuntary gasp.

Russell met his eyes and smiled. "Welcome to the party."

Ian's initial reaction, despite the oddity of their circumstances, was confusion. Party? He'd just been caught with a semi while watching another man work out a kink in his... As Ian's eyes traveled in the direction of his thoughts, he realized that Russell was no longer working to relax his muscles, but very openly and obviously rubbing his cock through his pants.

It was like a train wreck. Ian didn't want to see it, but he couldn't look away. Russell moaned while he stared, transfixed by the sight of another man's pleasure. Was that his dick? The clearly outlined rod in his jeans looked big. Bigger, maybe, than Ian's, although he couldn't really be sure. Why was he thinking about this? Why was he looking? Abruptly, he turned away.

Russell chuckled. "It's okay to like what you see, Ian. It's for you. This rock hard cock is for you."

Ian chanced another glance, noting how Russell squeezed the denim near his base for emphasis.

"I'm not gay," he told Russell. Himself. And he wasn't. From his first crush to the woman he was convinced would be the love of his life, Ian had always been attracted to women. Men did nothing for him. Even now, with Russell, it had been thoughts of Becca that had brought on his excitement. Russell himself was nothing but an annoyance, a catalyst for great memories at a very bad time. And yet, he continued to wonder. Was Russell bigger than him? Was he circumcised? Did it always lean slightly to the left, or was that just the way it lay in his jeans?

And he was staring again.

"You think every guy that likes cock is gay?" Russell asked, seemingly amused by this.

"That's the basic definition."

"Let me ask you something," Russell said, sitting up and putting complete focus into their conversation. "Have you ever watched porn?" Ian grudgingly nodded. "Have you ever noticed how exceptionally large those guys are? Pretty strange considering you're meant to focus on the women."

"I've watched lesbian porn."

"It's not the same though, is it? Is it because we like to imagine it's us on the screen, that we have fantasy dicks that make women scream like that? I'm not buying it. I mean, your cock is good to you, right? Wet, dry, pussy, mouth, hell, just your hand and a good mental picture and the big guy makes it awesome. Ever wish you could suck your own dick?" Luckily the question was rhetorical "I do. We all do. We're all in love with our own... Kinda makes you wonder about the rest."

Ian wanted to argue, but found he had no idea how. It wasn't something he'd ever thought about, but it did make a lot of sense.

"Orgies, threesomes, DP... And what about strap-ons," Russell continued. "Ever used one of those?"

To this Ian was able to gave an honest and emphatic no. Although one of his college girlfriends had shown him the benefits of a prostate massage, he had never wanted anything larger than a finger up there, and he never would. Finding himself oddly at ease with Russell—now that he wasn't touching himself—Ian confessed to his experience.

"So you're a top."

"I'm not-"

"I know, I know. You're not gay, and I believe that. Really, I do. But you have to admit to being curious. You want to know what I got goin' down there, and I am more than willing to show. All you have to do is ask, Ian. Tell me what you want, I guarantee you'll get it."

Ian kept his eyes on Russell's smirking face and not the bulging seam in his pants. The guy was attractive—he wasn't homophobic enough to deny it—but he wasn't actually attracted. Nothing even remotely sexual crossed his mind when he looked at that face. The shoulders and chest in his peripheral vision were well-defined, muscular, angles a woman wouldn't have. No breasts, only pecs, and some hair. Women didn't have hair there.

Ian's erection began to deflate. No, he didn't want anything from this man, and he absolutely intended to say so. All he had to do was convince himself it didn't interest him that his arm was moving. Not in the slightest. Whatever Russell was doing with his hand was out of sight, and that suited Ian just fine. Really.

"Russell."

"Yes, Ian?"

"What I want... is for you to go home."

"You're lying, Ian." Russell's smile turned evil, the arm on his right sped up.

"Go home, Russell."

"Not until you look."

"What?"

"I'm not leaving until you look at what I'm doing."

"You said I would get what I wanted if I asked you, and right now I'm asking you-"

"You'll get it, Ian. I'll keep my word. Look at my hand and tell it what you want it to do. Stop and go home? Okay. But only after you look at it." Russell's attempt at innocent eyes was almost laughable. Challenge was written all over his face. All they were missing was the "triple dog dare you," and Ian didn't doubt it would come to that.

He took a deep breath, steeling his resolve for one last glimpse. What was the worst that could happen? Russell hadn't unzipped his pants yet, and the rubbing, no matter how vigorous, was something he'd already seen. Seen. Survived. Lost his hard-on over. He was just going to look down and get this freak out of his- "Oh, shit."

"You were saying?" Russell's hand wasn't where Ian expected it to be, rubbing on the outside of his jeans. No, instead of relative chastity, Russell had somehow snuck his hand under the waistband and was working himself from within. Ian didn't know how though, those jeans were so tight, so full of Russell that he just didn't fit. Even as Russell's flattened palm continued what looked to be a painful mashing, the tip of him peeked out over his belly, a small bead of moisture precariously balanced on top.

As Ian watched, the droplet grew, and with one powerful stroke, it set to rolling down the side of Russell's length. The moment he lost sight of it, Ian growled. "Take them off."

"I'm sorry, Ian. Did you-"

"Take them off or get the fuck out of my house."

Wisely, in Ian's opinion, Russell help his tongue this time, removing the denim to reveal the bareness beneath. Devoid of restriction, Russell took himself fully into his fist and set a painfully slow rhythm. Looking on, it was all too easy for Ian to picture doing this himself. Russell was longer than him, but not quite as thick. His garden was better tended, but they both had the same cut, the same lean, the same vein bulging in a spiral to the top.

Like any honest man, Ian loved his penis, and watching one so similar being pleasured so effectively began to take its toll. Before long, he had a palm over his hard-on, not to cover or deny it, but to stroke it in time with Russell's. Though incomplete through the denim, the feeling was incredible. Ian groaned. In response, Russell sped his hand, giving a twist over the head on every third stroke accompanied by a grunt.

Ian's cock soon grew envious of Russell's. It ached to be handled the same way, to have the same freedom of movement. Abandoning pretense, Ian quickly removed his own jeans, taking his briefs down with them. He stood over Russell, staring at his hands, mirroring their every move. They twisted, he twisted. They cupped, he cupped. When Ian's breathing became shallow, the other hands slowed, and his own instinctively followed, bringing about an oddly consensual torture. These were the unpredictable acts of a stranger in the comfort of his own expert hands. This was something like heaven.

Ian's eyes never strayed, terrified to look away, as though the moment would be gone if he missed a single stroke. But when the other hands seemed to pull out their signature move, his own were forced to copy, and the resulting spasm sent a tingle up his spine. Ian closed his eyes, savoring the feel of his imminent release.

A foreign sensation jolted Ian from his stupor, foreign yet oh so familiar. The introduction of a warm, wet tongue to his slit almost had him cumming on the spot, but the shock of it held him back. Then the realization that it must have been Russell's tongue set in and his arousal took a drastic dive.

"Aww, he doesn't want to play anymore?" Russell's teasing voice brought Ian completely back to reality and he rushed to cover his softening erection from view. "Don't be like that," Russell continued, tugging at Ian's hands. "A mouth is a mouth is a mouth. Just feel."

Ian disagreed, but his traitorous cock had other plans. Russell had managed to grip him at the base, retaining what hardness remained, and began a teasing assault directly on the head with his tongue. With a few seconds and some light suction, Ian was back to his former glory. Unable to watch and unwilling to stop, Ian gave over to the sensation, closing his eyes and going along for the ride. In his mind, Russell could be a woman.

He could be Becca.

Teasing licks turned to assertive swirling and sucking at his tip, a warm hand grasped the rest, pistoning fluidly. He'd only dreamed Becca would be so good at this, so enthusiastic ,and so skilled.

"Oh, that's it. Deeper. More, please." Ian heard himself beg, and he couldn't find the shame. The mouth descended slowly, increasing suction and lightly scraping its teeth on the way up. "Fuuuuck!"

Abruptly the mouth removed itself, a hand taking its place. "You like that, Ian?" A man asked. "Has anyone ever done it like this? Does your girlfriend know how to-"

Ian's eyes snapped open. A mouth was a mouth, but that voice had to stop. He glared down at Russell, hoped he understood the "shut the fuck up," grabbed his hair, and shoved himself down the man's throat.

"You like that?" Ian asked, closing eyes and pulling back, then thrust forward until he felt tonsil. "You like this big, thick cock filling your mouth. How long have you wanted it, huh? How long have you waited to gag on this dick?" Ian didn't know who he was thinking of anymore. Becca? Russell? Did it matter? A mouth was a mouth. A hole was a hole. He'd passed the point of no return.

"You wanted this, now take it. And maybe, if you're a good little cocksucker, I'll let you have it all. Would you like that?" The mouth hummed around him, sending vibrations to his toes. "You want it. You want this"-he pushed forward- "buried inside of you, splitting you open like no one ever has. I won't be gentle. I'll ruin you for other men. And you'll see me everyday, knowing exactly what I can do, but you'll never have me again. Is that what you wanted? Is this what you came for?"

Russell responded by taking Ian deep into his throat and letting out a growl as one of his fingers moved to push at his back entrance.

"Oh no," said Ian. "You don't get to touch that. I'm a top, remember? So get on the bottom."

Ian pulled Russell off by his hair and looked at him. Surprisingly, the sight of a man's body didn't turn him off, but when Russell tried to kiss him, Ian pushed away. The body and face were neutral, and Ian wanted nothing to do with them physically.

"I said get down!"

Russell turned and got comfortable on all fours while Ian rolled on the condom. He looked content on the carpet, but Ian didn't want to kneel there. He moved them up to the bed, but even with Russell settled on the edge, where Ian could easily enter him standing, it didn't feel right. This pissed him off. If he didn't fuck something in the next three minutes, his balls were going to turn purple and fall off. Sexually frustrated and perplexed by his own inability to perform, Ian let out a roar.




Myth Debunked



"Just close your eyes again," Russell suggested. "Pretend I'm Becca. Just start slow and it'll be fine, no prep needed. I was in the Navy, I can take it."

"I can't. I'm not." Ian didn't know what to say until he saw it. Russell's testicles, smooth and tight, swaying gently. "Turn over."

"I don't see how-"

"Shut up and turn over!" Russell quickly complied. "Now stroke it."

Ian kept his eyes locked in place as Russell took himself in hand. A man's ass and back held no appeal for Ian, but a cock, the long, hard instrument of pleasure that it was, that he could appreciate. He followed Russell's movements as he had at the start, mirroring them on himself until Russell began to work himself in earnest. Harder, faster, as though he intended to finish on his own.

Just on the verge of release, Ian stopped and grabbed Russell's legs, halting his movements as well. "I hope you weren't kidding about the prep," he said. "Cause I have no idea what I'm doing." Ian pushed himself against Russell, tentative at first, then harder when he realized the resistance. He timed his thrust perfectly with Russell's eager arch and suddenly his head was in another man's ass. In an attempt not to think about that, he diverted his attention from his own cock to Russell's. And while the reminder of his maleness should have been a turn-off, Russell's light stroking egged him on, willing him to find that same friction.

His hips pushed forward of their own accord, instinctive as breathing. The wetness he was used to wasn't there, but it was tight. So fucking tight. Ian blindly reached into the open drawer at his bedside, pushing aside the box of condoms to find his personal lubricant. He dribbled some on his length as he pulled out, then surprised himself by putting some on Russell as well.

"Set the pace," he told him. "Show me how you like it."

Russell spread the lube over himself slowly, seeming to relish the slickness. Ian followed his example, gripping the base of his cock and stroking along what he could reach. He didn't dare remove himself completely from Russell's body. He didn't think he could push through that barrier again without cumming.

When Russell had wet himself sufficiently, he fisted his hand at the tip of and slowly pushed it down with an iron grip. Ian followed his lead, watching the hand, imagining it was his own. His own hand, his own cock, lubed up and held tight. As Russell slowly increased his pace, Ian's body obeyed, as though his hips were connected to Russell's arm on a string. Up and down. In and out. Russell shifted his hold and yanked hard in one direction, Ian swiveled in response.

"Oh shit!" Russell cried out. "Right there, Ian! Right there!"

Ian found a sock near the bedpost and heedless to its level of cleanliness, reached up and stuffed it into Russell's mouth—where it stayed without argument. As a reward, Ian swiveled again, finding the spot he'd screamed about and pounding it repeatedly.

Ian watched Russell carefully for reaction, not his face, but his groin. When Ian hit the G-spot (he refused to think of a prostate), the cock in front of him twitched. When the cock in front of him twitched, his own got a phantom thrill, adding to the already powerful sensation of the tightest, wettest hole he'd ever had the privilege of fucking. With every twitch, he groaned, feeling closer to the edge, knowing he'd lose it soon, but not before the other one. He wanted to see it explode. He wanted to know the power of making two cocks cum, one without even touching it.

The other cock started to leak, even as his own balls tightened. The two were so in sync, they may well have been one. Ian saw in his periphery Russell clawing the sheets. It would all be over soon, his one and only encounter with another man's dick. Ian slowed down at the realization, savoring, even as Russell bucked in protest. He hadn't been kidding when he'd said he'd never do this again. He wouldn't. Not in a million years. So why not draw out this moment? Use it to its full potential.

Even as the idea struck him, Ian resolved to follow through. This was his once-in-a-lifetime, and he was through with thinking. Russell had asked him if he'd ever wished he could suck himself off. Yes, was the answer. Every time he watched Becca suck a Popsicle, lick an ice cream, hell, pop a grape, he wished he could recreate the feel of her mouth, since he couldn't have the real thing. And if he could suck his own dick, he knew what that would feel like... on one end. But what about the other?

Grateful they were both in shape, Ian tilted Russell's hips up, earning a stifled groan and a cock twitch. Wetness seeped from the tip, begging to be tasted, and in one swift act of flexibility, it was. Ian bent down and licked Russell's stomach where most of the wetness had smeared. It was salty and musky, not Ian's favorite taste, but honestly, neither was a woman. Russell shuddered beneath him, but Ian ignored it. He had to if he wanted to finish this.

Bending awkwardly, Ian did the unthinkable and took Russell's head into his mouth, rolled it around on his tongue for a moment, then came back up for air. Russell wriggled, reminding Ian that his hips had stopped moving whilst he explored. Ian moved again, setting a shallow rhythm so that he had plenty of room and ducked back down, taking Russell as far into his mouth as possible. It was better than he'd imagined. Push in, suck hard. Ease out, hollow cheeks. If he timed it just right, it was like he was fucking his own mouth.

Movement became difficult in his prone position, but Russell helped, fucking himself alternately on Ian's cock and into his mouth, clearly straining with all he had to keep going, wanting, like Ian, for this feeling to last forever. All too soon, Ian's body tensed and he knew this was going to be it, there'd be no slowing this one. He rose and grabbed Russell firmly by the hips.

"Cum with me. Cum on me." Russell nodded and aimed his cock at Ian's abdomen. He stroked slowly with one hand while the other massaged his balls, waiting. Ian pulled almost all the way out before slamming home, swiveling his hips to find that G-spot. And when he did, he pulled it back and did it again, and again. His thrusts became erratic, so he pulled himself in deeper and massaged that spot over and over, grinding until he felt a pulse, then an almighty squeeze that hurt almost as much as it pleased him.

It was uncomfortably tight, so tight he thought he might not be physically capable of cumming, but when he looked down and saw the thick globs of cum shooting from the other cock, felt the heat of the puddles on his belly, the orgasm couldn't be stopped.

"OH GODFUCKSHIT DAMNIT RUSSELL BECCA FUCK!"

Ian's hips kept thrusting without him as his brain took a field trip to Pluto. He didn't think he'd ever cum so hard in his life, and doubted he ever would again. He wasn't sure he even wanted to. His body felt like weighted down jelly and his head was clouded with fluff. He couldn't have moved if he'd wanted to, and he didn't like that vulnerability. He especially resented the fact that Russell seemed to find this hilarious. For a moment Ian wished he'd crushed the fucker under his body weight—the payback would be well worth any discomfort on his end—but all-in-all he was pleased to find that he'd landed safely to one side, though he couldn't even remember pulling out.

"What the fuck are you giggling about?" It had taken Ian some time to regain use of his face muscles, but Russell was still laughing when he did.

"You, my man. I was totally wrong about you."

Ian couldn't help his curiosity. "How so?"

"Honestly, I had you pegged for a fully gay bottom, but you really are a straight guy completely obsessed with cock. Who knew? I thought those were a myth."

"So all that shit about porno and threesomes?"

"Total BS. I've heard people say it before, but I figured it was just their brand of denial. But you're the real deal, dude."

A fist entered Ian's field of vision, as though Russell expected him to reach up and bump it. "Get the fuck out of my house."

Russell sighed and pulled his arm away. "Such a waste. Anyway, lover boy, just give me a second. You fucked me up but good."

Ian nodded, though he wasn't sure Russell could see. In a way it was gratifying to know he'd been able bring someone to the point they couldn't stand up and walk away, even if it was an obnoxious asshole he hoped never to speak with again. He prayed he'd communicated the "one-time only" clearly enough, and that the fucker actually listened. On the plus side, whether Russell stuck around or fell off the face of the planet, he was fairly certain he wouldn't have to be jealous anymore. Becca didn't seem to be Russell's type.

A faint scratching sound from outside caught Ian's attention, followed by a light jingle. He shot up and stared out the still open window. "Oh shit, the cat."

Russell's laughter redoubled at this. He let out a hearty guffaw and the jingling ceased.

"What? Now you've scared it away."

"Ian, dude, are you really that stupid?"

"What?"

"I don't have a cat."

"WHAT? Then what was tha-"

"Ian, I'm home! Ian? Where are you? Is someone else up there?"

"Fuck."



Myth Merging in Boschertown



The Peckerwood takes his customary seat across from the three Don's in the Boschertown Tavern. The bar is U shaped; the TV is elevated and positioned at the right leg of the U. The three Don's like to set where they can see the TV, the door and the bar maid fetching beer from the cooler. They await the peckerwood from across the street. He always orders Coors. Larry the owner stocks the Coors in the deep recesses of the beer locker. He doesn't want the "Bud-lite" date chaser spotting a non-union beer. The three Don's drink Busch but like the peckerwoods choice because the 4'11 inch, 90-pound barmaid has to climb into the cooler. The peckerwood likes it when the 200-pound barmaid takes the dive. Wide track view for a penny a pound.

The dwarfed out bar maid says, "What will it be?"

"I was thinking of getting a Budweiser, the king of beer."

"Get him a Coors, or we're going to kick his ass."

'"I'll take the Coors here and the ass kicking across the street."

Dumb Don says, "How much land you got over there, about an acre?" 

"If I told you, none of you dumb asses would know because you don't know what an acre is. I know, George "the link" Washington knows and surveyors know. You guys haven't got a clue."

"Damn do we have to turn down Hank Williams to hear this?"

"Hank! That's his son, Hank died in the back of a Cadillac with Jim Beam as his closest friend. Rough roads in Ohio were his demise."

"I'm in," says Big Don, "let's hear it."

"An acre is ten square chains. A chain is 66 feet. This is the longest chain that George "the link" Washington the father of our country and the head surveyor could carry through the woods. So one acre is 66 feet by 

660 feet. 660 feet is one furlong. That's the distance a farmer would plow in one direction before turning to give the mules a new view."

Don says, "So you're saying that mules determined what an acre is."

"Hell no, a furlong is how far a farmer could plow in one direction and still hear his wife yell in case of an emergency or attack by heathen Indians."

Dumb Don, "So you're saying it was the Indians." 

Smart Don, "No dumb ass it was the women."

"Did any of you knuckleheads ever notice that a furlong is used in horse races?" 

Big Don pipes in, "I got it they were plowing with horses."

"Let me try another approach, an acre is 160 square rods. A rod is the longest hickory staff that George "The Rod" Washington could carry through the woods; it comes out to 16.5 feet. There are four rods to the chain." 

Donny boy says, "So a square 40 by 40 rods is an acre?"

"Dummy, that's 1600 square rods."

Don, "What the hell is wrong with the mile wasn't it invented by the Romans." 

"Ok, let's cover the mile; this is the distance the Roman solders covered with 1000 paces. There are 640 acres to the square mile. Thirty-six square miles is a township, this is how our country was sectioned off." 

Short Don, "you can't fool me; I know that there are 5,280 feet to the mile. Who cares about rods and chains."

The Peckerwood says, "Ok smart-ass, what's a foot." 

Little Don, "12 inches."

"Wrong, it's based on the barleycorn. Thirty-six barleycorns to the foot. I don't want to hurt your brains with to much information but a barleycorn is also a shoe/foot size." 

Bad tooth Don, "Bullshit, Barley is used in beer; I want to know how you can make accurate measurements with a rod and chain. You need to use inches."

"Easy, three barleycorns make an inch"

"All this explaining to you double dumb-ass Don's

has made my throat dryer then a popcorn fart."

"Yo—Bar wench, pull me another Coors."

The three Don's brace themselves for the cooler dive.

Peckerwood, "The reason Big George is called "The link" is because our measurement system is based on the length of our founding fathers male member. The chain is divided into one hundred links each link is 7.92 inches, as measured by Martha. She wasn't putting up with a one-inch finger knuckle length pecker like the English Queen."

The bar maid came to attention inside the beer cooler, her vision impaired by the new lump on her head.

Talking Don, "Damn you're pretty smart for a Peckerwood."

"Yeah I'm pretty, and that's, Mr. Peckerwood."

The barmaid got in the last word while rubbing her noggin. "Don't talk like that about George Washington our founding father when I'm in the beer cooler."



Myth Perceptions 01



[The Big Bad Wolf has featured prominently in many tales. . . and as in history, it is the teller that shapes the truth of a story.]

1. Little Red Riding Hood

An Intruder was in the Forest.

I did not move from the rock on which I was sunning myself, but my nostrils flared as the scent drifted on the cooling breeze. The Forest had been my demesne for as long as I had been . . . well, let me say alive, to avoid the complicated explanations. Woodsmen, hunters, explorers, surveyors, adventurers; all have learned the futility of a foray into my domain. A few that I have spared spread the tales far and wide, and humans now fearfully avoided this swath of heavy woods. Oh, the Witch (as they called her, though I know not know why) has special dispensation; she amuses me and honors the Forest, doing no harm. But all else must take a circuitous route between the two villages bordering my forest, skirting the tree line without entering the shadow of the woods.

Until now. My lip twitched, and now I sat up, ears perked forward to catch any sound that might aid me in my hunt. 

Human. In the Forest. Too far away for me to hear, but in the thick, unfiltered air of the Forest, scent travels far. 

I slipped off my warm perch and sauntered under the umbrella of the trees. As always, the underbrush was no concern. The Forest knew me, and branches that would have clawed and grasped at a human parted for me, acknowledging my place among them. Those that did not were turned aside by my thick, shaggy pelt. Above the verdant canopy, the sun was setting in a golden glow that was already tinged with a rosy hue. My lips peeled back from my muzzle. Someone's light would be extinguished with the sun's last rays.

But the ball of fire had nearly sunk below the horizon before my ears picked up the sounds of clumsy progress. The human had made it to the Thundering Rain, and pounding water had masked its movements to my ears. No longer. Branch and leaf, bough and rock; everything it stepped on or turned aside echoed in my ears now. I slunk low, belly touching the ground, but my pace slowed not a whit. I am a hunter, and these things I can do. Under the lightning-struck tree that marked where a fox this spring had borne her young, past a tangled dance of twisted poplars, I roved, and when I broke into the open, a mere pounce from the drop off, I glided to the edge of the escarpment and looked out over the waterfall.

Down below, there was a woman by the pool.

I shrank low, wondering why even as I did. She could not see me. Turned away, she was knee deep in the pool, bending down and filling a skin from the clear waters that rippled around her. Her skirts were soaked, floating and swirling with the water's movement. Though she was some distance from the falls themselves, errant spray had soaked her white blouse, plastering it to her skin. I thought of this sacred spot, the pure waters hitherto untouched by man now sullied with a human's greed, and my lips peeled back from my teeth in a silent snarl.

Then she turned, looked up, and my muzzle relaxed in something like astonishment.

She was beautiful!

The nature of my origins has never been clear to me. I have seen many wolves, but none can think as I do, plan as I do or place the importance on terrorizing Man as I have. Indeed, they flee the approach of Man, heedless of my disdain for their caution. My natural kindred are much smaller than I; to a human they might seem large, yet I outstrip them in size, speed and ferocity. I do things that they will not, and many that they cannot. While they hunt solely to feed, I kill to assuage a desire in me that requires no physical sustenance. Even my own name that gives me reason to believe that without Man, strange as it seems, I would have no existence . . . for without them to fear me, would I be The Big Bad Wolf?

And so perhaps it is because I am a thing of Man that I saw her beauty. Yellow hair, sparkling with moisture in the dying sunlight, framed a round face of innocence. Her lips were full and pink, pursed in concentration as she forced a stopper back into the wineskin. A spray of freckles bridged her cheeks and nose, and soft brown eyes swept over the sky in concern. She could not see me, with the glow of the sun behind me and the tumbling waters partly obscuring her vision. I looked, and looked, and when she waded determinedly out of the pool to wring her dripping skirts out onto the pebbled bank, I looked some more.

She hiked up her skirt to squeeze as much water as she could from the cotton shift and skirt, and warmth rushed through me as she showed me the soft curve of her hip. When she dropped her skirts and flapped them out, I exhaled in a muted 'woof' that the roaring waterfall drowned.

I could not slay her. Not yet.

I waited until she recovered a red cloak that lay folded neatly on the grass along the bank and slung it over her shoulders before removing myself from my vantage point. Something was stirring in my chest, echoing some primal ache in my loins. I had to get closer.

When she began to move I was already poolside, crouched hidden in the underbrush. Like a lupine statue I tracked her with only my eyes as she walked past, humming some country tune. I was not fooled. She was frightened, her scent said. Her humming was bravado, the tremor in her voice spoke. Had I chosen, I could have snapped at her skirts as she walked by. She was that close, and never knew I was there.

I flanked her, pacing myself to her speed, taking deep breaths of her scent. She smelled like a village farm, hay and chickens and goats and burned wood. In her hand, recovered when she donned her cloak, was a sack that smelled very much like mutton and fresh greens, along with a familiar herb that, although I had never used, I knew well. It grew only in the forest, and only near the pool at the base of Thundering Rain.

Ah. One mystery explained. 

The sun was setting quickly, and the Forest's shadows deepened. It further unnerved her; more and more she cast her eyes upward as if hoping to penetrate the tangle of trees that occluded the sky, and as a result the grasping undergrowth would trip her maliciously, punishing her inattention. The fourth time she went down, gasping as a thorn bush pricked at her legs, I sighed, and asked the Forest to allow her passage.

It was not something that needed be said aloud, like Man-Speech. I simply wanted it done, and the Forest responded. No, I was not the Master of the Forest, no one is, but the heart of the Forest was open to me, and I spoke to it as I pleased. I am the Big Bad Wolf.

The woman moved quickly now, no longer hindered by the Forest which moved every creeping trailer and entangling brush out of her way as she fled the encroaching night. I ghosted alongside her, now and again so close that if she stopped my nose would have been buried in her ample backside. Once I even gripped the edge of her cloak in my teeth then darted aside as she yanked at it, clearly believing it had caught on a branch. I laughed my lupine laugh to myself, and then stopped as I realized where her path was taking her.

The Witch's home.

Now, as I have said before, I have nothing against the Witch. I have heard the humans call her that, on the rare occasions when I have stalked the villages by night. She lives on the edge of the Forest, they said, as if that alone were enough. Others talked of her uncanny bond with animals, her advanced age, her pact with the Devil, hexing children, cursing livestock . . .

One of the many reasons I take satisfaction in killing the intruders in my home was their stupidity. The Witch was old, she was kind to animals, children liked her because she told stories, and some desperate people had once asked her to help them save their cows from the Black Tongue. When the silly cows had died anyway, they blamed her. I could see why she chose to live in the Forest's grasp. Few came out here to bother her. And she would sometimes leave morsels out, which I thought was a sign of her senility, until I realized she was leaving them out for me. That showed her good sense. The villagers long resented her, because she baffled them, and Man feared that which He did not understand.

Why indeed was she going to the Witch?

The sun closed its eyes as we reached the little wooden fence that surrounded the Witch's ramshackle home. The woman nearly tripped over it, so inept are human eyes in the darkness, but she recovered and all but ran the remainder of the way to the Witch's front porch. She hammered on the door with the flat of her hand, bam-bam-bam-bam, and called out, "Gramma! Gramma! It's me, Gramma!"

Ah, I thought smugly. Another mystery solved. I wondered what she would do when she realized no one was home. The Witch had gone out a day or so earlier, and had yet to return; I could tell from the smell of the place, even at this distance. Would the woman try to make the return home, or--

No. She pushed the door open, and went in.

Outside, the moon rose.

I paced, and snarled, whirled to make for the tree line, spun instead and returned to the fence. I snapped irritably at the fireflies that began to glimmer, and wondered why I did not return to the shelter of the Forest proper. While I vacillated I could hear Her busying about within, humming to herself (more confidently now that she was indoors, with a lamp and a fireplace, which she wasted no time in lighting). In a moment, that took my breath away, I could hear the whispering rustle of her clothes dropping to the floor. My paws were wet. It took me a moment to realize, with that whisper of fallen clothing, that I had begun salivating.

While I was working myself into a moment, the moon climbed high..

The Witch's house was still.

I'd sat and rumbled inaudibly till the moon had shrunk from its gibbous, yellow-tinged globe near the treetops to a shiny silver coin directly overhead. The hut was quiet, disturbed only by the crackling of coals in the banked fireplace inside, and the woman's steady breathing. No reason to investigate further. It was human. It had been in the Forest. Now it was no longer in the Forest. Nothing to investigate . . .

Except the window shutters were ajar.

I could hear the smallest of creaks with every shift in the air. Old and haphazardly repaired, it did not surprise me in the least that the Witch's home was not entirely secure. Without any idea how long I'd been sitting there, I found myself under the rough window shutters. I'd been watching them rock, ever so slightly, as I breathed on them.

I pawed at the shutter.

It creaked open further. I licked my chops, aware dimly that I was salivating again.

I turned to look at the Forest trees. They swayed gently in a breeze that rustled their leaves 

(like yellow hair)

in a sussuration that spoke of caution, warning me, calling me back. I paused, one ear cocked, listening to the Voice of the Forest as I contemplated this madness..

And then I leaped.

There was a rude wooden table under the window, and my claws scrabbled furiously for purchase before I regained my balance. The lamp on the table tilted, spun around once lazily, and righted itself. I felt as though my amber eyes must be blazing, and wondered why they didn't light up the room with their glow.

Drip.

Drip.

Dr-- Oh yes. I licked my chops clean again. I was panting.

The smell. Oh, Goddess. The smell.

The woman lay on the Witch's bed, one hand under her head, the other outstretched to the window, as if inviting me. Her coverlets had been thrown aside, and lay dangerously close to the grate that covered the fireplace. Hooked on the back of the door were her day clothes. She was clad in a thin shift that exposed her arms and shoulders and it had ridden up as she slept, almost clear to her hips. Her legs were slightly parted . . . and from the shadow between, a most intoxicating aroma.

Drip.

Drip.

I licked the saliva from my muzzle again. 

I slid from the table, careful not to knock the lamp over with a careless move, and the moonlight poured in through the open window. Her golden hair was spread about her like a halo, and as I watched she sighed, soft lips parted, and frowned as if in thought.

After a moment's pause, I licked the tip of her outstretched hand.

There was a moment of sudden doom, then she seemed to relax, and the little line between her brows eased. It was the right thing to do.

I wondered what else I might lick to ease her dreams.

Drip.

I padded around the room, heedless of caution. The scent in the air was calling to me, much more insistently than the Forest had. I stood at the foot of the bed (little more than a cot, really) and put my forepaws on the sheet between her feet.

The scent grew stronger. Musky. Exhilarating.

My paw brushed the inside of her knee as I shuffled forward, and a crystal pearl dropped from my muzzle onto her thigh as I shuffled my chest closer, rear paws bracing me. I did not care about the risk. I was intoxicated. Drunk.

I nosed the cotton shift, attempting to move it out of the way. Instead it slipped over my muzzle, and my nose was between her legs. My massive jaws between her thighs and my fur must have caused some disturbance in her dreams, because she sighed again, and her thighs parted further.

My nose touched something warm. It was the source of her. The aroma stabbed through my nostrils, through my brain, and into some parts of me that I knew wolves had, but had never used. It controlled me, lured me.

I nuzzled forward, and took a tentative lick.

When my tongue brushed against her center, I thought that my fur would stand on end. The natural taste of her skin, the salty sweat of her day's travel, the pungent aroma seeping from her tender slit, all these things I could taste not just with my mouth, but my nose and my whiskers that tickled her inner thighs. 

I licked again, this time with more conviction, my claws rending holes in the sheet between her legs. Yes. There was more of her this time, and I could hear her pulse rise, almost imperceptible.

Again.

And again.

Her slit was liberally moistened by my tongue, but I could sense a change in the taste that I gleaned from her tender center. It was thickening, becoming more pungent, sweeter. And her cleft was beginning to pout, like the petals of a flower beginning to bloom in the spring. I could feel something happening, in my own body that I did not understand . . . but drove me onward.

I cocked my head to the side and began to lap in earnest.

My ears flicked at a tiny gasp as she sipped in air, but she still slumbered. My tongue was a little rough, but long and flexible. I wanted to taste this ambrosia that was spilling from her now, sweetening her and driving my unnamed desire. I strove to lap up all that I could, muzzle working under her shift, careful not to nip her with my fangs as I sought to devour her juices in a kind of delirium.

When my tongue slipped inside her, I nearly howled. Here was paradise!

Dimly, I was aware that she was beginning to rouse, but I did not care. With my nose pressed firmly against the top of her tender and tantalizing slit, I curled my tongue inside her secret place, and lapped out the slippery nectar that had drawn me to her. I was lost.

I did it again, my nose pressing firmly against a tiny nib at the top of her slit that, like the unfolding petals I pierced with my tongue, had developed as I sampled her. 

When my tongue curled inside her once more, the soft walls inside her clamped down.

Startled, I jerked my tongue back, but in my madness, I would not relinquish my assault on her. I lapped at her furiously. Sometimes the barrier was relaxed, and I could devour the delight that now all but gushed from her opening sex, and when she clamped down I would madly lick her cleft's apex. A fever rose in me, and in a growing frenzy my tongue slivered along her entire seam, from the pink whorl of her anus all the way up to her belly button. My rear paws were scrabbling on the wooden floor, gouging wood chips as my forepaws shredded the bed. Both the woman and I were panting, and somewhere inside there was an alarm trying to get my attention and wake me out of my lust driven madness --for finally I recognized what I was feeling, what had driven me here, and what alien member was sliding remorselessly out of my sheath, aroused and pulsing in answer to the scent I had all over my muzzle.

I lapped at her, recognizing that she was rising from sleep like a dolphin might shoot to the surface of the water, and there was a thought in me that the thing that now protruded from my own groin, needing and red and thick, might best be served where my tongue was.

Even as I gathered my rear paws to spring onto the bed, this:

My tongue still lapping inside of her, the woman almost sat up.

Her hands gripping the ruff under my ears, knees clamping TIGHT around the barrel of my chest, she opened her eyes, and howled. MY Howl. Only I had ever voice that weird, ululating, guttural cry; my natural kin had no throat for it.

And as she howled, there was a surge of liquid musk, primal scent and she arched her back, fists still tight in my fur, and howled!

And there was a shattering somewhere inside me, and I felt myself release, pumping hot fluid from my own unslaked sex against the foot of the cot, onto the floor. My own answering howl was buried in her sex and somehow emerged from her mouth as hers and mine mingled together, wolf and woman, hunter and prey, and right then I bared my teeth and would have devoured her right then, blood and bone, for what she had broken 

(released)

in me. I was no longer a 

(creation)

scourge of Man, but something deeper. Some terrible, irreversible alchemy had been wrought, and a price would be paid.

And as our howls trailed off, her sex still gripping me, her thighs pinning me between them, while I felt myself begin to diminish back in to my sheath still spurting my seed, I heard, clearly, someone say outside "Kill the Witch!"

There was a roar of Human voices tarnishing the night, and in the rattle of a mob, someone yelled, "Burn the lot down! Kill her before her demons 'escape!" and an elderly female cry of pain.

My eyes focused. The Woman's did too. No words were actually spoken in that slice of time as our gaze locked, but there was a theater of silent negotiation in which much was said, to whit:

I: I will pretend that I'm not a wolf here to ravish you and will extricate my tongue from you, because we're about to be attacked. By a mob.

She: I'll pretend that I didn't actually enjoy that, and I'm going to carefully untwine my legs from around your chest so you can go take care of business.

I: If you'll ignore any unusual scratches and ah, stains on the floor, I will not mention that you still have your hands dug into my fur as well.

She: Thank you for not mentioning that. Now that's my gramma out there--

I: No guarantees.

Well. . .

* * * * * * *

Mobs ready to burn a notorious Witch and her home are notoriously easy to disburse when a real devil shows up. Delayed in the village, the Wit-- that is, Gramma had been accosted by drunks who had quickly fired their smoldering resentment of her into flames of madness. They'd brought her to her home to make an end of it, and her, in one frenzied orgy of violence. When I burst out of the window of her home and set to among them, they'd run like mice when the hawk's shadow passes overhead. 

What happened to the-- to Gramma afterwards? None of the villagers thought to come by her home for a long time, and every once in a while I would leave her a morsel or two. But in three days time she was dead anyway, an old woman who was kind to animals and gave children sweetmeats. She was very old, after all, and had been roughly handled.




Myth Perceptions 01



I lie on a boulder alongside the Thundering Rain and let the sun warm me, while the spray studs my fur with diamonds that glisten in the sunlight. I bat at a dragonfly floating by, pleased at the day's perfection. I haven't seen the Woman since. But there's only one place to find a certain herb, and someone who wants it once, and knows what it does, will be back for more. Eventually.

I have patience.

THE END



Myth



"What? You mean right now? Me and you?"

"Sure, what's wrong, don't you want to?"

"Am I in your league?" Ramona said, the corners of her mouth coming up in a sly little smile.

"Girl, you are definitely in my league. I've thought about doing it with you before. Have you ever thought about doing it with me?"

Ramona wasn't sure what to say, she could admit that she had thought about it plenty of times, usually with her hand between her legs, or she could deny it. She wanted this to happen so very badly that she finally thought the truth might work better.

"I've thought about it lots of times. To be perfectly honest, I've masturbated and thought about doing it with you."

"Well," Karen said as she got out of her chair and moved next to Mona, "after this you can masturbate and think about the real thing."

Karen held Ramona's chin in one hand and leaned in and kissed her full lips. Mona responded almost before she realized it, her tongue darting inside Karen's mouth and one hand going to the back of her head to hold her in position, not wanting the kiss to end too soon.

Karen finally stopped and whispered, "Let's go over to the bed, sweetie."

She held Mona's hand and led her to her bed, laying her down and getting next to her so that they were side by side, facing each other. They kissed again and this time their hand began to wander, feeling each other's bodies for the first time, each enjoying the feel of the other.

Mona let her hands go to Karen's breasts and she delighted in the feel of another woman, rubbing her nipples and gently squeezing the breast, feeling them respond to her touch. She pulled Karen's shirt up over her and moved her head down to her chest. Karen rarely wore bras and Mona was thankful for that because it meant she could suck on her nipples that much sooner.

Her lips, tongue and teeth played around each breast, sucking, biting and kissing until she could hear Karen breathing harder saying, "More, oh that's good, honey."

While she was lavishing attention on her tits, Mona moved one hand down and started to undo Karen's jeans. Her hand slipped inside and felt the soft blonde fur and then the moist lips and swollen clitoris.

Karen sucked in a quick breath as Mona's fingers found her clit and rubbed it softly, her mouth still sucking and kissing the firm breast and nipples. "Oh, Mona, that is so good. Do it, do what you want!"

Ramona took her cue and kissed her way down towards Karen's groin, slipping off her jeans when she got there, relishing in the beautiful view of Karen laying there naked, her pussy just inches away from Mona's mouth.

Mona lowered her head, not being able to wait any longer, and slipped her tongue inside of Karen, tasting the juices flowing out of her. She ran her tongue back outside and along the lips, finding the clit and taking it in her mouth with some soft sucking.

Karen practically screamed when her clit was sucked and began to cum immediately, her hips bucking up and down, her hands on the back of Mona's head, pushing it into her pussy.

Ramona wasn't going to let this opportunity go to waste and only let Karen cum once. She ran her tongue away from her clit and slowly licked down, going back inside her to taste more. She put her tongue in as far as she could and started to move it in and out of the pussy, the sweet scent of it wafting up her nose, making her want it even more.

She fucked Karen's pussy for several minutes, her tongue acting like a small penis, pleasuring her in every way she could think of. She stopped only long enough to pay more attention to her clit and make her cum again and then went back to lapping up the sweetness.

Karen couldn't take any more, she moved away from Mona and told her to get her clothes off. "I want to please you too," she told her and helped to unbutton her blouse and remove her bra and slacks.

When she had Mona naked she pushed her down on the bed, turned over, and got on top of her, her head just above Mona's small triangle of brown hair, her ass just above Mona's sweet face.

Karen had been wanting Mona just as much as Mona had wanted her and it was mere seconds before her face was buried in pussy, lapping up the juice, savoring the taste, enjoying the reaction she got when she flicked across her clit.

Mona was in ecstasy, Karen's pussy above her, pushed down onto her face, her tight brown asshole only an inch away, causing her to give in to temptation and go up and lick it, sticking it inside just a bit, making Karen squirm on top of her. She had never even considered eating another woman's ass, it just wasn't something you thought about much, but when it was right there in her face she couldn't help herself. 

She fucked Karen's ass and pussy with her tongue, going wild between her own legs as Karen gave her the best head of her life. Her pussy was flowing, the orgasms coming too quickly, she finally have to give in and stop eating pussy, allowing the wave of pleasure to roll over her.

Karen had already cum so many times she didn't think she could take anymore and once Mona had finished cumming she rolled off of her and laid on her back, her breathes coming in short, shallow gasps, her face glistening with a combination of sweat and pussy.

"That was fantastic, why haven't we done that before?" 

"I don't know," Mona, said, equally out of breath, "I hope we get to do it again, though."

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'll be ready for more tonight. I need something to drink though; do we have any beer left?"

Mona looked over at the table, "No, looks like we're all out."

"Damn, I have cottonmouth from the weed and as sweet as you taste it just doesn't quench my thirst."

Mona laughed, "I know what you mean. I can go downstairs and get something out of the machine for us."

"No, I'll get it. You just relax and make sure you don't think about this and play with yourself just yet. I want you to save some more for me." 

Mona blushed and turned away, "Don't worry," she said, "There's plenty for you."

Karen got up and threw on her jeans and shirt, grabbed her purse and went out the door. Mona lay on the bed, thinking about what had just happened. Her fantasy had come true and she was glad. It might be weird at first, especially in the morning when they were both sober, but it was certainly worth it.

She lay there, thought, and slowly drifted off to sleep, her hand resting between her legs. 

She awoke with a start. She hadn't meant to fall asleep but the beer and grass had been a bit much for her. She looked at the clock on the wall and saw it was after two. When had Karen gone for the soda? What was taking so long?

She lay there and thought again, about what had happened between them, a smile coming to her lips. Then she heard a noise in the hall outside the door. She thought it must be Karen and sat up in the bed.

The door didn't open and she could hear the noise more clearly now, a scratching of sorts, she couldn't quite place it. Then she heard what was unmistakably breathing, but it was harsh and raspy and sounded almost like someone trying to breathe in water.

She got up, went to the door, and then stopped. The noise was right outside the door and she could hear something against the cheap wood, lightly hitting it and dragging across it. The breathing sound was louder, too, a gasping noise that made Mona think of something out of an old monster movie.

She wanted to open the door and see what was going on but something held her back, telling her it wasn't wise. She backed away from the door and listened. The sounds didn't stop, staying at her door. She kept her eyes on the knob, waiting for it to turn but it didn't, just the constant slapping against the wood and that horrible gasping sound.

Then she saw the knob move, just the slightest bit. Mona held back a scream and looked around the room for a weapon of some kind. All she could see were the empty beer bottles and she doubted they would be much good. Then she spied the small closet that the two women shared. She ran to it, flung it open, and threw herself inside, closing the door behind her, not seeing the room door open at almost exactly the same time.

Mona crouched against the wall of the closet, barely fitting inside. She could hear the breathing and knew it was inside the room. She heard it moving slowly towards the closet and pulled her knees up close to her, trying to disappear into the darkness but knowing that if anyone opened that door they would see her immediately.

The gasping sound was right outside the closet door now and Mona heard a scratching on the wood. It sounded almost as if someone was trying to dig his or her way through the wood to get at her. 

The scratching and gasping grew louder and louder until Mona put her hands over her ears, praying it would just stop. She could see a shadow moving outside the door through the small space at the bottom. The scratching grew ever louder, something slapped against the door, and Mona fainted, her world going black in an instant.

"Miss! Wake up!" Mona felt something shaking her and her eyes slowly opened to see a face looking at her from underneath a blue cap, the silver shield of the local police on the front of it.

"Are you ok, miss?" the policeman asker her when he saw that she was awake.

"Someone was trying to get in," she said, relief washing over her once she realized that the cops were here and she was safe. "I came in here; they were trying to get in."

The cop looked at her and didn't say anything. He helped her get to her feet and led her out of the closet and then Mona screamed. Her face riveted to the carpet in front of the closet door.

Karen lay there on her side, a second mouth opened up under her chin by what must have been a very large knife, blood pooled around her. Her arms were pointed towards the closet door and Mona could see the worn nails on her fingers and the deep scratches in the wood.

The ME's report came back on Tuesday and it said basically the same thing that the previous one did. The wounds to Karen Parson's throat were inflicted with a sharp instrument, possibly a knife but more likely a sharp piece of thicker steel. The wound was too jagged and large to have been cause by a typical knife, the instrument in question being duller than is usually seen with knives.

Stuart read the report over twice before putting it down. What the hell do you use to cut someone's throat other than a knife? The vaginal wounds to the first victim had been determined to be from a hunting knife of some sort but the throat wound was the same in both cases.

He was back on the day shift now and it made it easier to work the case because people were more willing to talk during the day but he longed for the quiet of the night shift. The squad room was too busy during the day, cops and civilians going in and out all day long, making it hard for him to think.

Bert was at his desk typing up a report of the work they had done today. It was getting close to quitting time and both men were relieved. It had been a long day of legwork and interviews and they had gotten nowhere. He looked up from his typewriter as Roberts came in to start the afternoon shift.

"Hey, Bert, I got those notes you wanted from that hatchet case."

Bert frowned at him, "It's about time, I asked for them last week."

"We're busy you know. I got three robberies downtown and a rape from the school."

"Yeah, well, this is a homicide, Roberts, you know that."

Roberts dropped the papers down on Bert's desk. "That's all we got from it. Never found anybody."

Bert scanned over the notes quickly, looking for something that jumped out at him. "You guys said it was a man in drag, right?"

"Yep."

"What made you think that?"

"It's in the notes, Bert. The old lady had a hook for a hand. How many old ladies you know with prosthetic limbs choose a hook?"

Bert frowned even deeper, "Shit."

Roberts noticed the look on Bert's face and didn't like it, "What?"

The detective didn't answer him, he jumped up from his desk and called over to his partner, "Stuart, let's go! I know who it is!"

Stuart looked up from the ME's report, "No shit? Who?"

Mary hated her name. There were too many jokes, rhymes, and biblical references for people to use on her. She would have much preferred to be named Susan or Jamie or Hortence or Bertha, anything but Mary. If one more person asked where her little lamb was she was going to scream.

Jake didn't care about her name though, right now he only cared about her questionable morals and she knew it. She knew what everyone said about her and she didn't care. If she liked sex then that was her business and if people didn't like it then too bad. The story going around about her right now, and probably the main reason Jake asked her if she wanted to go for a ride was that she had had sex with three men on the football team at the same time. Mary didn't mind that people knew, it was true after all, she just didn't like that they talked about it behind her back. Why not just come out and ask me about it, she thought to herself as Jake parked the car.

They were in the woods behind the schools administration building, the trees surrounding the car except in the rear where the access road was. The area was perfect for this sort of thing because it was heavily wooded and a couple could easily park here without being seen, yet it was only a few yards from the campus. It was especially good now because of the curfew the police had put on the town. They could play around and still be back in their dorms before seven.

Jake put the car in park and left the engine running. He turned to face Mary and put his arm along the back of seat. "I really didn't think you'd come with me," he told her. "I just thought I'd take a chance. I'm glad you said yes."

"Listen," Mary, said, "I know why you asked me here. I don't care. You're a good looking guy and I kind of like you so there isn't any reason to be coy or subtle or whatever."

"Uh...well, I didn't just want to say 'hey, let's go in the woods and fuck', you know?"

"I know, at least you were nice about it and that's why I'm here. The deal is though; I'm on my period so we can't fuck. I can give you a blowjob though."

Jake was taken aback by her total honesty but he wasn't stupid. If this girl was offering a blowjob then he was going to take it.

"Ok, baby, sounds good to me."

"Don't call me baby, I hate that. Now just move your seat back and relax stud. I'm going to take good care of you."

Jake reached under the seat and found the handle to move it back and give her more room to work. He leaned towards Mary to kiss her and she pushed him back against the seat. "Easy there, I said I'd blow you, not kiss you. Don't ruin it, OK?"

"Sure," he said, starting to get uneasy about the whole thing. It was too much like a business arrangement for him. Still, if she wanted to blow, then let her blow. He leaned back and unzipped his jeans, pulling them down around his knees.

Mary eyed his cock and was pleasantly surprised. He was still soft but was obviously toting quite a load. She had seen plenty of dicks in her day and Jakes wasn't the biggest but it looked like it would be a close second. She took him in her hand and started stroking him, watching him grow, waiting for him to get completely hard before she went down.

When his cock was rock hard in her hand, she adjusted herself on the seat and leaned over, putting her head in his lap. The head of his dick was just a half inch away from her mouth and she stuck her tongue out and licked it, running it along the ridge, feeling him react.

She opened her mouth and took him in, still stroking the bottom of his shaft with her hand. He was large and she had to stretch her mouth a bit to take him but it wasn't the first time she had been in this position and she was able to get him fully between her lips. He moaned as she first took him in and put his hands on the back of head. Normally she wouldn't put up with that but he was a nice guy and she knew she had shocked him a bit with her frankness so she let him do it.

Mary started to move her head up and down on his shaft, only pausing to suck the head now and then, her hand shifting between stroking him and massaging his balls. She loved a nice set of balls and he certainly had some. She couldn't wait to get down there and taste them so she took his cock out of her mouth and dropped her head a little lower. Mary took one testicle between her lips and lightly sucked it, loving the taste of his sweat and sex. She could feel them swell just a bit while she licked and sucked and loved the feeling of power it gave her, knowing she could do this to a man.

Her tongue came out and licked along each ball then going down to lick underneath them, a little trick she had learned in high school. He moaned, as she knew he would and she then took her hand and moved it down to his ass, her finger working between his cheeks and rubbing his asshole. She knew from experience that men would never admit they liked this and would certainly never ask for it but they loved it when she did it to them.

After servicing his ass and balls for several minutes, she went back to his cock, taking him in her mouth once again. He throbbed in her mouth, his moans becoming louder and more frequent. You little boy, she thought to herself, you're ready to cum already. I should have known.

Mary figured it was time to finish the job since he obviously wasn't going to last long and she tightened her grip on him with her lips and started bouncing her head on him, making it as fast and tight as she could. She felt him stiffen suddenly and then the warm gush of semen shot into her mouth, filling her up before she could react to it.

She swallowed as fast as she could, not catching it all and feeling some drip out onto her chin. Once she knew he was done she took him out of her mouth and wiped her chin. Then she sat up, adjusted her clothes, and checked herself in the rearview mirror. "You could have let me know you were cumming. I don't normally swallow for guys I don't know that well. You caught me by surprise."

"I'm sorry," Jake told her as he pulled his jeans back on, "I really would have but it sorta came on quick. You're awful good at it."

Mary could see that he really did feel bad about it and decided to let it go. She was sure he was safe in terms of disease and swallowing didn't bother her that much anyway.

"Hey, I gotta pee then we'll get back to campus before curfew," he said and opened the door.

"OK but hurry up, they said anyone out after seven was going to be arrested."

Jake got out of the car and walked into the woods. She lost sight of him quickly because of the tree and the darkness. She didn't like being out here after dark but thought it would be ok as long as they got back early. The murders had everyone on edge but they had both been in the dorms, not out here, and the dorms were under very tight supervision.

She began to get uneasy after Jake was gone for several minutes. She looked out the windows, scanning the trees around the car, trying to catch sight of him. If he was peeing then it was the longest ever.

There was a small thump on the top of the car and she jumped. What the hell was that? Mary looked around more, not seeing anything past the tree line. There was another thump and then some scraping on the roof. She stifled a scream and then quickly calmed down. That asshole is probably messing with me, thinking it's funny, she thought. He probably thinks that he got his blowjob so he might as well scare the slut.

The scraping and thumping started again and didn't let up this time. Then she heard something at the side of the car, movement although she couldn't say for sure what kind of noise it was. She began to panic; knowing that unless he brought his friends with him then there was no way he was on the roof and at the side of the car at the time.




Myth



Fuck this, she said and moved over to the drivers seat. The car was still running and she got herself situated behind the wheel when she heard the passenger side door handle click. Someone was trying to open it but she had locked it when they first parked.

Mary looked out the window but didn't see anything and didn't see a need to stick around and wait for whoever it was to show themselves.

She pulled the lever on the steering column and threw the car into reverse, backing down the access road as fast as she could without running off and hitting a tree. She was terrified to look out the front window and see the spot she had just left but curiosity overrode fear and she looked.

There above where the car had been parked, Jake hung from a tree, a rope around his neck, his legs still twitching. Mary screamed and stopped the car. She wanted to go back to him but knew that whoever had done that was the same one who had tried to get in the car. She knew that by driving away she had probably sealed his fate, the roof of the car being the only thing stopping him from strangling and she was filled with grief. 

Mary regained her senses after just a few moments and started driving again, backing out onto the main road and going as fast as she could back to the campus. She only wanted to get to her dorm. It would be safe there and she could call the police. She was driving dangerously fast but didn't care, she had to get back.

Once Mary was in the parking lot, she relaxed for just a second, feeling safe now that she was in a public place. There were only a couple people outside, it was still very cold and curfew was near but a couple was better than no one at all.

She got out of the car and went towards the dorm, she had to use the phone, let the police know so they could go out there to where Jake was. She had only taken a few steps when she remembered her cell phone. It would be a lot faster than walking all the way to the dorm, she though and went back to the car, going to the passenger side where her purse was.

She had only taken a step when she stopped, her mouth opening to scream but nothing coming out. She stood there and trembled, cold chills running all through her body. Hanging from the door handle was a hook. Light from the outside lamps reflected off the steel as it swung back and forth. There were scratch marks around the handle where the person had tried to get in, the point of the hook apparently having trouble finding the door latch.

Mary finally found her voice and screamed, louder than she ever had in her life. The few people in the area came running and one of them finally called the police.

Stuart and Bert sat in the interrogation room and stared at the man sitting across from them. He was a little man, barely five feet six and couldn't weigh more than one hundred fifty pounds soaking wet. In one hand he held a cigarette, holding it to his lips and sucking in the smoke as he stared back at the detectives. His other hand was missing, a bandage that had been put on by the local hospital took it's place.

They had found the man in the ER after looking for him around the school. He worked on the maintenance crew and they had interviewed him after each of the murders. After the incident in the woods, he was forced to go to the hospital because the hook being ripped off his hand had caused the stump to tear open. The hospital had called the detectives as soon as they saw him, having been faxed a request to report anyone with a prosthetic limb who might come into their facility.

The man just sat there and smoked, not saying a word. He knew they'd find out who he was before long. They'd know he had escaped once before so he had to make his move soon, before they took extra precautions.

The three men sat there and stared at each other, neither of them saying a word. Stuart and Bert had agreed before they came in here that something was wrong with the man. He was too confident. He didn't deny the charges but acted as if he were innocent. He didn't ask for a lawyer and so far the only words he had spoken were to tell them he wanted a smoke. 

Stuart could wait him out. He was a patient man. All it took was time and eventually they all talked. In the meantime, they would simply sit here and look at each other. Hell, he didn't have anywhere else to go. 



Mythbusters: After Hours



The warehouse felt empty that night. Normally filled with equipment and film crew, most of the inventory had been emptied with the end of the season's shoot. Grant had been heavily involved with sorting through the show's eclectic collection of machinery and materials. While he enjoyed his time with the show, there were experiments he wanted to conduct that didn't quite fit in with what the producers wanted. Some of these were personal curiosities rather than anything that would appeal to their wide viewer base. As he was going through his half-baked ideas, the door opened. Grant ran over to the door with excitement. "Kari! I'm so glad you could make it!"

Kari was caught in a surprise hug. She gently pushed her colleague away. "Curiosity got to me. What's this secret project you're working on?"

Normally, anyone would kill to be alone in the warehouse with the attractive Kari Byron, but Grant was more enthused with the opportunity to share his work. Energetic as always, he led Kari to his crude contraption. Kari had seen something like it before. It was a moderately-sized barrel filled with sand, connected to a pump, generator and control panel. Grant was already a step ahead with the explanations. "Remember the quicksand episode we did? When Adam stepped into the vat to see if quicksand sucked you down? Well, I really thought about doing a follow up. It didn't really address the horror of Hollywood quicksand – the sucking bit, yeah, but not the inescapable part. So I thought, what if did an experiment on whether it's possible to escape quicksand on your own."

"As compared to using a swinging Tarzan?" Kari asked.

"Exactly!" Grant clenched his fists with excitement. "I've put together this machine. It's a smaller version of what we used in the quicksand experiment. The stuff in the barrel is a fine sand that liquefies quickly when water is pumped through it, and then solidifies when the water is drained. The control panel allows me to regulate water flow, and adjust the vibrations. The sand needs some stimulation to get it into the gooey quicksand stuff we need."

"And the aim is to escape from the barrel, which simulates quicksand," Kari mused. "That's very clever. So what do you need me for-...OH!" She snapped her fingers. "You need a damsel in distress."

"Of course, and I couldn't think of anyone better. Though, I can't pull off the Tarzan act well."

Kari thought about it. It was getting late and she was looking forward to getting back to the hotel to relieve some stress. But she had also been curious about the quicksand episode as well. She wanted to have a go, but the show only featured Adam, and the crew disassembled the experiment as soon as the shoot was done. Grant's version was, in some ways, better in the sense that it was manageable for their small experiment. Plus, for some reason, she could feel herself getting excited over it. Grant's friendly and energetic disposition was a tilt factor. If Adam or Jamie wanted to try it, she might've declined.

"Okay, let's do it," Kari announced, to Grant's jumping jubilation. She walked over to the tank. There was no harness, so she presumed that it was more or less up to her to free herself. "Wait, do we have a wetsuit or something? I just cleaned up and I don't have a change of clothes."

There wasn't anything in the warehouse. Kari didn't want to disappoint Grant and she wanted to satisfy her own curiosity. "As long as no one finds out," she said. She took off her shoes and socks and removed her jeans. Even Grant, consumed by his work, couldn't help but gaze at Kari's sexy body. It was certainly well known that Kari pulled in a lot of viewers for a reason. What happened next was unexpected even for the mythbusting duo. Not wanting to get her underwear dirty, she stripped off her bra and thong. She looked mildly embarrassed and covered herself up, and the warehouse was a bit chilly. "Are we going to get started?" she asked.

"Right, right," Grant stammered. He instructed Kari to go onto the platform next to the vat. Grant operated the panel from behind, so he could only see Kari from the rear – which he wasn't complaining about. Kari did as she was told, and when Grant gave her the signal, she stepped onto the sand. At first she was apprehensive, testing the sand with her feet, but once she was satisfied with the solid feeling, she stood in the middle of the vat. The sand felt very fine and was pale in texture. There were no surprises yet, but then Grant hadn't turned the machine on. When he did, the generator kicked into action and the pumps began the cycle of moving water through the vat.

Nothing happened at first. Kari was pre-empting the liquefaction and stood with her arms held out gingerly. She felt nervous and excited. Grant couldn't see from his position, but her nipples were very hard, and not just from the cold. The deep gurgling beneath the sand sounded very ominous. She could only imagine how this would've looked on camera.

Kari was expecting the slow evil-villain-pace descent. Instead, the sand suddenly gave way before her feet got wet. She plunged straight to her knees in the liquefying sand. "How is it?" Grant asked.

It was thick. Very thick. It felt smooth, cool at first, but her struggling and body temperature soon warmed the semi-solid sand to a comfortable level. The initial feeling was like porridge, but once her legs got deeper, it was more like cement. Grant said something about not having enough water pressure to liquefy the sand further, but Kari wasn't listening. She was fixated at the sight of her thighs slowly inching into the gurgling sand. She tried to lift her leg, only to be stopped by an incredible suction force. "This is way too strong," she said. "I'm going to pull a muscle if I keep going."

"Hold on," said Grant. "I'm going to increase the flow to loosen it up a bit."

The sand quivered. Then, with no warning, Kari's descent rapidly hastened. Her thighs were swallowed in seconds. "Woah, woah!" she yelled. She couldn't feel anything solid beneath her feet and she lost her balance. Grant closed off the valves, but the sand took a few moments to solidify. He watched as the wet sand crept up her inner thighs and approached her toned derriere. Kari gasped as her butt settled into the warm sand and slid between her legs. The first contact with her womanhood set a strong shiver through her body, feeling like a large wet tongue licking against her most sensitive part. She gritted her teeth to stop herself from moaning. Thankfully, the moisture seeped away, though she could still feel the damp sand packed around her now-buried legs.

"Are you okay?" Grant asked.

"Yeah," Kari gasped. She was covered in a light layer of sweat. The brief experience had shaken her up a bit. She couldn't believe she was naked and crotch-deep in Grant's quicksand vat. She tried twisting her hips, but she was well and truly trapped. Apart from a slight quiver, the sand was a solid encasement.

"Okay, now I'm going to open the valves again. I'll keep it at low flow to keep it at a thick consistency. See if you can work your legs free."

"Got it-...NNnnh!" Kari barely managed to stifle a moan the vibrations coursed through her intimate parts. It felt like an unrelenting mouth working at her wet womanhood. It was more intense than any sex toy she had ever come across. She gyrated her hips, trying to spread the sensation, but it was having the opposite effect.

"Kari, you're meant to be getting out, now squirming in," Grant reminded her.

"Ggnnh, it's harder than it looks!" she cried out with her teeth clenched. She was barely able to stay focused. She was just past her hips. While the sand had loosened enough for her to move a bit more freely, there was still no way for her to free her legs on her own. She might have used the edges of the vat to pull herself free, but the vat was slightly too large for her short arms. She decided to lean forward to reach for the edge anyway. Just as she did so, her body suddenly shivered. She let out a huge moan, and she sank past her waist. As a reflex, she pushed her arms forward to slow her descent, plunging her arms up to her elbows. "Fuck! Shit, shit! Grant!"

Grant had already shut the pump off. Kari settled in a little deeper. Her breasts were swaying just above the now-placid surface. "What's wrong? Was the suction too much?"

"Fuck, Grant, I just had an orgasm," she gasped. It was, perhaps, outside of the parameters of their experiment, but she had to say it. She tried to return to an upright position, but her arms were held in place, keeping her in an awkward hunched posture. "I think it really is improbable that someone can get out of quicksand on their own, at least, without anything to hold onto. But it's impossible when you've got a sand vibrator pressed against your pussy."

"R-right," Grant replied. "That's an interesting result. I guess that we should call it a successful experiment then."

"That sounds great. How do I get out?"

Without a harness, there wasn't a way to simply pull her up. Grant hadn't imagined that she would sink that deep, and the sand was too densely packed to scoop out with his bare hands. "I'm going to restart the pump to soften the sand again, but I'll keep it as low as possible. We can probably get it loose enough for you to get free."

"Oh god," Kari groaned. "I'm not sure if I can handle another cycle." She recognised that in her position, it was the only way she could get her arms free. Grant got the pump going again. The gurgling came back, and she felt a familiar tremor between her legs. "Oh god...nggghhh!"

"Hold on Kari," said Grant. "Just a bit more and it'll be loose enough."

The sand was loosening up, but it also caused Kari to sink deeper. The sand lapped at her sex again, sending more waves of pleasure through her body. She gritted her teeth, but resisting only made it worse. With her shoulders and head hunched forward, her balance was thrown off by the moving sand. Her swaying breasts brushed against the surface, which intimately caressed her. She jerked back, this time leaning backwards, but the sand gave way and she sank to her chest. A moment later, it hardened again, leaving her buried with her breasts half-buried and her arms stuck by her side. The vibrations had stopped, giving her some relief from the stimulation. Grant checked the equipment.

"Something's wrong with the pump," he said. "We must've overloaded it with the stopping and starting."

Kari tried to squirm her way out, but the sand held her tightly. Not hard enough to squeeze the breath out of her – she could still feel the damp grains around her naked body – but she couldn't get her arms out by herself. She waited patiently, catching her breath, as Grant tried to fix the pump. She realised, in the back of her mind, that this was probably a terrible idea. She was now caught in the perfect trap. Which, now that she did have time to think about it, was a somewhat kinky idea – all the more so because Grant wasn't the kind of guy who would even think of it. Another shiver went through her body, not caused by the sand this time, but the realisation that she was at Grant's mercy.

Grant, of course, was busy with the experiment. After some crude repair work, he could only get the pump running at the lowest flow setting, which wouldn't be enough to loosen the sand for Kari to pull herself free. Instead, it would hold her in place while softening the sand enough for Grant to dig her free. After checking the equipment once more, Grant turned the machine back on. The contraption hummed, and Kari felt the soft vibrations against her body again – not as intense, but still stimulating. Grant got up onto the vat and began scooping the sand away from her arms.

"Watch we're your touching," said Kari in an unintentionally seductive voice. For the first time since the experiment started, Grant had a frontal view of Kari. Though she was half-buried, the sand moulded perfectly around her breasts, cupping them in front of Grant. It was Grant who was embarrassed rather than Kari. He tried to keep his eyes off as he dug away, while Kari tried to hide her arousal. Both failed. Grant spent more time ogling at Kari's tits, while Kari, turned on by Grant's attention and the sand's vibrations, reached another orgasm.

It took half an hour for Grant to dig away enough of the sand for Kari to get her arms free. As Kari cleared more sand from around her torso, Grant went behind her and held her beneath her armpits. Kari didn't doubt his intention of helping her out, but it inevitably turned into an opportunistic grope, and this time Grant didn't show any inhibitions about it. Finally, Kari was free of Grant's devious quicksand vat, covered in sand and sweat. Kari, no longer caring about her nakedness, lay in Grant's arms.

"Well, that was exciting," Kari sighed with a smile. "Do you think there's such a thing as a quicksand fetish?"

Grant smiled in return. "Plausible."



Mythbusters: Kari's New Show



Kari Byron, the beautiful red-headed co-host of the Discovery Channel show Mythbusters, slowly opened her eyes as morning sunshine streamed through her bedroom window. As she slowly woke up, her eyes focused on her alarm clock and she suddenly sat straight up.

"Shit, my interview," she yelled out to no one in particular, startling her Boston terrier from his slumber.

She quickly jumped out of bed, wearing only some really short sleeping shorts and an old concert t-shirt, and made her way to the shower. She would usually get herself off during her shower, but she just did not have time this morning if she wanted to be on time for her interview.

"Great," Kari thought, "now I am going to be on edge all day until I get home from the interview and can stuff my vibrator in my pussy and get off. It's gonna be a long day."

Kari had always had a powerful sex drive that usually required her to get fucked or get herself off at least twice a day. While she usually had no problem finding a guy to fill her tight pussy, she had been too busy with Mythbusters filming to find one lately and her vibrator was just not the same.

As she was getting dressed after her shower, Kari decided to wear clothes that were a little sexier than she usually would wear. If there was one thing she had learned from working on Mythbusters for so long, it was that a little sex appeal went a long way in the TV industry. 

Standing in front of her closet in her favorite lingerie, a matching black lace bra and boy shorts set, Kari pulled out her tightest pair of jeans and pulled them up her long, toned legs. She knew they showed off her sexy, tight ass which was one of her best features. 

"Maybe I will 'drop' my phone in the meeting and give those producers a little look at my ass," Kari giggled to herself. 

Kari finished getting dressed by pulling on a tight black tank top to go under her tight orange long sleeve t-shirt that hung off of one shoulder. She adjusted her perfectly shaped, 34B tits until they looked perfect. Then, Kari pulled her flowing, red hair into her trademark pigtails, grabbed her purse, and headed out the door.

Kari was feeling really nervous and a little excited as she drove to the interview she had scheduled with several producers from the network. They had called her the week before and asked if she would have any interest in potentially hosting a new show they were developing. Kari was immediately interested as she wanted to expand her TV career in any way she could.

One Week Earlier

Kari was heading out to her car after wrapping another day filming a new episode of Mythbusters when her cell phone began to chime. She quickly pulled it out and flipped it open.

"This is Kari," the stunning redhead said into the phone.

"Hey Kari, this is Bill Sampson over at Discovery. How are you today?" spoke the man's voice over the phone.

"Oh hey, Bill. I'm doing pretty well. Just wrapped on another day of filming over at M5. How are you?"

"Doing fine Kari. I was just calling to see if you would have any interest in coming in next week to interview for a new hosting position. We're starting a new network and you would be perfect for one of the new shows."

"Wow, Bill. Sure, I'd love to interview for a new show. Would it interfere with Mythbusters at all?" Kari asked excitedly.

"Well Kari, I don't think it will at first, but if the new network gets big enough, you may have to eventually make a decision between the two, but I'd say that would be way down the road sometime," Bill replied.

"Sounds good to me Bill. When is the interview?"

After setting up the interview date and time, Kari flipped her phone shut with a huge grin on her elegant face, got in her car, and headed home for the day.

Present

As Kari pulled her car into a spot at the address Bill gave her, she took a few minutes to gather herself for the impending interview. 

"Just be yourself," Kari told herself, "just be yourself and remember...a little flirting goes a long way. That's how I landed the Mythbusters job after all."

After psyching herself up, Kari climbed from her vehicle and made her way into the non-descript office building that she had arrived at. She thought it was a little strange that the interview wasn't being held at the Discovery Channel offices, but figured this building must just be a new property they were using.

Kari entered the building and headed to the suite number that Bill had told her to go to. The suite ended up being at the end of a long hallway and Kari slowly swung the door opened. Once again, she thought it was a little strange that the office suite wasn't labeled as belonging to Discovery, but she just shook it off and approached the receptionist.

"Hi, how may I help you?" the cute, blonde receptionist asked Kari.

"Hi, I'm here for an interview with Bill Sampson about a new TV hosting job. Am I in the right place?" the sexy, red-head asked.

"Yep, this is the place. Your name please..." asked the receptionist as she looked Kari up and down in a way that made Kari a little uncomfortable.

"Oh, sorry, it's Kari. Kari Byron..."

"Ok, I'll let Bill know you are hear Ms. Byron. Please take a seat. It shouldn't be too long a wait."

"Ok, thanks," said Kari as she made her way to the small seating area to the left of the receptionist's desk. She could have sworn she had seen the blonde behind the desk somewhere before, but couldn't remember where.

After a short, five-minute wait, the adorable blonde told Kari to head on back to the conference room.

"It's the second door on the left. Good luck..." the receptionist said with a naughty little smile. Kari could feel the receptionist's eyes glued to her ass as she made her way through the door and towards the conference room. "Well my ass must be in good shape if women are checking it out too," thought Kari as she knocked on the conference room door.

Kari was momentarily lost in her thoughts about the receptionist when the door in front of her swung open and Bill Sampson appeared. He welcomed Kari and quickly ushered her into the room as well as shutting the door behind him. Bill then introduced Kari to the other two men in the room. 

Kari knew the man on the left as he was also a producer for Discovery.

"Kari, I'm sure you remember Keith Davis from Discovery..." Bill said.

"Yeah, hi Keith," a slightly nervous Kari replied.

Keith gave Kari a wave as Bill continued, "...and allow me to introduce you to our new network's head honcho, Jeff Regal."

Jeff was a good-looking guy in his mid-20s. About 6' 1" and 185 pounds, he had blonde hair buzzed short and striking blue eyes to go along with a well-built physique. Kari was immediately attracted to him for some reason and hoped her hand wasn't too sweaty as she shook his extended hand.

"Hi Kari, it's a pleasure to meet you. Let me just say that you are even more beautiful in person than you are on TV," Jeff said as he shook Kari's soft, but strong hand.

Kari felt herself blushing like a schoolgirl in response to Jeff's compliment. There was just something about him that Kari couldn't put her finger on. All she knew was that she was a little flustered in Jeff's presence.

"Thanks, Jeff. It's a pleasure to meet you too. I'm flattered that you wanted to interview me for your new show," Kari replied.

Kari thought that Jeff seemed a little young to be running a brand new network. He looked to be not a day older than 25 and she wondered how he rose to such a lofty position so quickly.

It was true that Jeff was quite young for his position as head show developer and producer for a brand new network in the Discovery family. Especially considering that Discovery was ready to throw whatever resources Jeff needed behind his network. 

Jeff didn't get his position by luck. In fact, Jeff was an extremely talented writer who was hired by the Discovery family of networks directly out of college. He had a Bachelor's Degree in journalism as well as a Master's Degree in creative writing. He achieved both of his degrees within 6 years of starting college.

His writing talent quickly pushed Jeff into higher ranking positions at Discovery. His hard work ethic and talent made him the ideal candidate to head up the new network Discovery was launching. 

"Well Kari, you were the first person that came to mind when I was thinking of who I wanted to host the pilot show on my new network," Jeff said, "Now what do you say we get this interview started? Please take a seat."

Kari settled her lovely frame into one of the cushioned chairs across from the three producers and crossed her right leg over her left as she got ready to be questioned.

"Ok, Kari. This interview is going to be on camera so we can review it later if we need to. Is that okay with you?" 

"Ummm...oooo-kay..." a suddenly more nervous Kari stammered out.

"Just relax. It will be no different than doing a set for Mythbusters. Just pretend the camera isn't even there."

"So first question...do you think you have what it takes to be the main host of your own TV show?" Jeff asked.

Kari quickly cleared her throat before responding, "Well I have been working on Mythbusters for seven years now and have gotten more comfortable being on camera every year. I think I'm at a point now where I'm ready to be in a more featured role." 

Kari paused for a second before adding, "Plus, when your first appearance on national TV is bending over in a skintight bodysuit, you lose your modesty pretty quickly."

Jeff gave a hearty chuckle to Kari's comment as he fondly remembered the scene she was describing. It was her first appearance on Mythbusters and the hosts of the show, Adam and Jaime, were testing the myth of being sucked into an airplane toilet. They used Kari's sexy, toned ass as a model for their tests on the toilet. That involved her wearing a tan bodysuit that perfectly molded all of Kari's womanly curves.

"Hahaha...I can understand that. So on Mythbusters, you have done some pretty daring things throughout all the seasons. Would you say that you have a wild side?"

Kari was slightly taken aback with that question, but didn't want to show hesitation on camera so she answered it anyways. 

"Ummm...I guess you could say that about me. I mean some of those myths took a lot of guts to participate in," Kari replied hoping it would appease Jeff and they could get to the next question. However, Jeff was looking for a different type of answer.

"Ok, but what about outside the show? Does Ms. Byron ever get a little wild or crazy?" Jeff questioned with a gleam in his eye.

Kari was getting increasingly uncertain about the direction this interview was heading, but decided to play along for now. Besides, she really wanted this job and had to admit she was a little curious to find out more.

"Well, back in my college days I liked to party a lot. I'm sure some of the parties got out of control. And if I'm being perfectly honest, my wild streak still makes an appearance from time to time," Kari blushed as she answered.

Jeff thought Kari looked even hotter when she was blushing. It really brought out her dark, pretty eyes.

"Interesting, and what kind of wild activities are we talking about here Kari?"

"Well, the usual I guess. A lot of drinking, dancing, and even some..." Kari paused before deciding to just go for it and looked Jeff in the eye as she continued, "even some crazy random sex."

Kari knew she had made Jeff happy with that answer judging by the expression on her face, but she also couldn't believe she had just uttered those words in a room with three men she barely knew, not to mention the ever present camera. She really hoped that the questions would get back to her hosting abilities, so she spoke again before Jeff could.

"So do you want to know more about my hosting experience and skills or..." Kari trailed off.

"Not right now Kari. I'd actually love to hear more about this crazy sex. Was it just with random guys? Anything really kinky?" Jeff continued his embarrassing line of questioning.

Now Kari was willing to play along to some extent, but these questions were starting to make her very uncomfortable. Plus, her sexual tension was growing inside as she still needed to get off, and bad. Making a decision on the whole situation, Kari stood as she spoke and said, "I really don't think these types of questions are appropriate. I didn't come here to talk about my personal sex life on camera with three men I barely know."

She had one hand on the conference room door when Jeff's voice stopped her.

"Kari wait...you're right. I got a little ahead of myself." 

Kari turned around as Jeff continued..."Please sit back down and I will explain more about the show we want you to host and your compensation."

This convinced Kari to push the conference room door back closed with a click and return to her seat, albeit with a much more defensive frame of mind. She thought she would be back in her bed by now with her vibrator turned to its highest setting buried deep inside her tight, shaved pussy, and the fact that she wasn't yet was starting to get to her.

"Now Kari, let me get right to the details about the new network and show. The network is going to be called Discovery: XXX and the show I want you to host will be called 'Sexual Science'..."

Kari was left speechless when Jeff started to explain the show he wanted her to host. As he explained that she would be expected to demonstrate different sexual techniques on camera as well as trying out new sex toys, Kari's initial shock and disdain were slowly being replaced by sexual excitement. 

"Now before you overreact or leave, let me show you how much you will be paid for each episode."

Jeff grabbed a pen and paper off the conference table in front of him and proceeded to write a number onto the paper. He then slid the paper across the table so Kari could reach out and grab it.

Kari's eyes got huge as the number on the paper registered in her brain. The paper read: "$50,000 per episode." She was only paid $7500 for every episode of Mythbusters.

That number is what drove Kari's response to Jeff. 

"Wow, I think you just caught me off guard there," Kari glanced down at her lap before biting her lower lip and looking up into Jeff's eyes and saying, "but can I hear more about the show and my role in it?"

Jeff's smile grew as he told Kari more about the show. Kari found out that she would also have to try out fetishes that viewers send in. She would pretty much have to do whatever Jeff came up with for each show with no reservations.

As Kari heard more about the show, a flush began to steadily grow across her milky, white chest. She also began to feel her panties moisten as her sexual excitement at the idea of the show grew.

"So Kari, do you want to continue the interview? I will warn you now that it will be mostly about your sexual history."

Kari swallowed deeply before making the decision to continue the interview. She looked right at Jeff and said, "Bring the questions on!"

That was exactly what Jeff wanted to hear. He knew that he was close to getting Kari fully invested in the show as well as getting close to fulfilling his long lived desire for the striking redhead.

"Great, so Kari, at what age did you lose your virginity?" Jeff asked.

Wow, he wasn't kidding about these questions, thought Kari. "Umm...I think I was 15. It was with my high school boyfriend."

"Ok...was that your first ever sexual experience or..."

"Well no...I had given a few blowjobs before..."

"To who...other boyfriends or random guys...?"

"Yeah, all those and also my English teacher..." Kari turned crimson as she revealed that secret and felt she had to justify it..."I really needed an A."

"I'd say Kari, it looks like I picked the perfect little naughty, slut to interview for my show," Jeff remarked.

Kari was a little taken aback at being called a slut, but her horniness was starting to go through the roof. The questions were starting to turn her on as she remembered back to her high school sex adventures.

Kari also knew that Jeff's statement was accurate. She really was a slut if she was being honest with herself.

By the time Jeff had finished asking all his questions Kari's entire sexual history, from her fetishes to her fantasies, was revealed to the three producers in the room and the camera. She had revealed that her favorite position to be fucked in was doggy style, that she loved rough sex, and that she would pretty much try anything once.

Kari was also just about her breaking point as well. Her panties were absolutely soaked and she knew she needed to have something in her pussy as soon as possible. 

"So Kari, are you interested in coming back for a full, hands-on interview tomorrow?" Jeff asked, "You would perform a scene on camera for us so we can see how you react to performing sexual acts on camera and in front of others. You would also get to meet your female assistant and your co-host."

Kari flashed her brightest grin at Jeff as she looked at him with her stunning, brown eyes and replied, "It might be different than anything I've done before, Jeff, but I think I'm up to the challenge. What time tomorrow?"

"Before we get to that, Kari, there is one thing I need you to do first. Just to make sure you are as interested as you seem."

"And what would that be," Kari inquired.

"I'm going to need you to give me a blowjob right now. Consider it a quick test before the full interview tomorrow," Jeff said with a smirk.

Kari's panties immediately flooded at the thought of sucking off a guy she just met on camera. In her current state of arousal, she had no second thoughts at all as she immediately stood up and walked around the table towards Jeff. 

Once in front of Jeff, Kari dropped down to her knees, looked up at Jeff with her sexiest smile, and said, "I would love to."

As soon as she uttered the words, Bill and Keith sprang into action, each grabbing another camera and hitting record.

"Anytime you are ready, Kari," Jeff said.

Kari was determined to show she had what it takes and immediately set to work undoing Jeff's belt and fly. He stood up momentarily and let his pants and boxers drop to the floor. As he sat back down, his semi-hard cock rubbed right down Kari's cheek. She immediately grabbed it and started to work on getting him fully erect.

As a sculptor and artist, Kari had extremely strong and nimble hands. Her talented hands were quickly evident as Jeff's cock grew to its full 8" in very little time. As soon as he was hard, Kari leaned forward and wrapped her full, gloss coated lips around the head of Jeff's cock. She swirled her luscious tongue all over the tip of the penis in her mouth and could barely stifle a moan of pure lust.

Kari had always prided herself on her oral skills and was determined to show those skills off. She wasted little time in fully engulfing the 8" rod in front of her all the way to the base. Jeff's pubic hair tickled her nose and she began to work her lips up and down the full length of Jeff's shaft.

"Look up at the cameras, honey," Kari heard from one of the men. She was so engrossed in blowing Jeff that she wasn't sure who said it, but she obeyed none the less. She looked into Keith's camera first and the sight in the viewfinder almost caused him to cream in his pants.

Kari had a slight layer of saliva coating her chin from her aggressive sucking and her dusky, brown eyes were filled with lust as the thick cock slipped past her lips once more. After a couple more minutes of sucking, Kari began to fondle Jeff's ball sack. He knew that he was close to coming, but he wasn't finished with Kari yet.

Jeff suddenly stood up causing his spit covered cock to slip from Kari's mouth with a plop. He reached down and with surprising strength lifted Kari to her feet by her arms. Kari was so turned on that she could barely stand on her own two feet. Jeff could sense this and kept one arm on her to steady her as he lifted her tank top and t-shirt off her body with the other. Kari's sexy black bra quickly joined her shirt on the ground and her perfect, juicy tits were on display for Jeff and the cameras. Kari's breasts were a large B cup and hung perfectly on her slight frame. They were topped off with light pink nipples about the size of a nickel.