0 comments/ 110011 views/ 11 favorites Hooked By: Jillykins It was back in 1988 when Chris and I got together that he suggested I try naturism with him. He had been a naturist/nudist for many years and I thought, therefore, that if we were to stay together then I should not condemn it, and him, before trying it so that I could join in his interest. Nudism was quite alien to my previous life. All that I knew about it was that people stripped off their clothes and went about naked in the presence of others and the thought of displaying my naked body to other people horrified me. Not many people had seen me naked. However at Chris' suggestion I had once sunbathed topless on a holiday in Cyprus and surprise surprise, I had enjoyed the feeling of freedom that it had given me and to be honest it gave me a new kind of sensuous thrill to be stripped to the waist exposing my breasts and nipples in public at the hotel pool together with my friends, a mother and her teenage daughter, who were with me, as they also removed their bras also for the first time in public. Funny, I enjoyed all the glances from the people who saw us so blatantly showing our bare breasts. Since that holiday I had sunbathed naked with Chris in our secluded garden but that of course was in private with no one else to see us. I enjoyed being naked in the open air with the sun playing on my bare body. I needed to get used to being naked amongst total strangers however so off we went to the the local pool for the weekly Naturist Swim nights. I couldn't even swim, but I had always wanted to learn. On the first occasion I panicked and almost gave up when we reached the car park but I steeled myself and went resolutely in. Both sexes use the same changing room and there in front of me was a naked man his cock waving. Can I go through with this, can I strip and show myself naked to other people? I had bared my breasts in public before but this is different, could I blatantly take my panties off and show my thick black pubic hair but at least that would cover my sex lips. I must and I did. I stripped, wrapped a towel round myself and walked quickly to the pool side then putting the towel to one side I slipped into the water, ducking down to keep my lower body hidden. I was naked in a public swimming pool. It was a strange but pleasant feeling being in the water with nothing on at all for the very first time being among other men and women even though they were the same as me, naked. Well I got over it and we still go and with Chris' help I can now swim. We booked two weeks holiday at the Naturist resort of Le Cap d' Agde to travel by coach for the following summer so I was now committed. Having tried nudism and enjoyed it, and in order to please Chris, I had now shaved off every vestige of my previously thick, black, pubic hair and as my inner labia are very prominent, I was now totally and completely exposed, even with my legs closed the folds of my large sex lips show quite clearly, everything is visible, sometimes when I am really excited even my clitoris pops out, as Chris says, like a pearl from an oyster, but I liked the smooth sexy sensation of not having pubic hair and because I was so bare and everything I had was on view I felt that I was quite different to most other women and that pleased me very much. I know that Chris loved my new shaven state where my totally bare sex is in fully visible. I also felt that if he could see my pussy so clearly then so could anyone else who looked at me but I now quite liked the idea of showing everything to other nudists. Chris likes me to call my sex a pussy, fanny, quim or preferably my cunt as he says that the word vagina is so clinical. After a short break for Christmas the swimming started again. I was much happier about my naked body now but this time I was different, now unlike anyone there I was totally naked, I was shaved and my sex was no longer hidden by pubic hair, it was visible to all. But no one commented about what I had done. Initially I was the only lady at the pool who shaved her pubes but now there are several more and at least one of them does it because of my influence which was a major boost to my ego. I was enjoying my new sexual freedom. Again at Chris' suggestion when we were out together I gave up wearing underwear in order to be as sexy as possible. No bra and even under the shortest of mini skirts my pussy is totally bare because I do not wear panties, not even a tiny thong to cover my shaven split. I love the feeling of having nothing covering my fanny. I frequently wear see through tops in public that quite clearly show the swell of my proud breasts and the darker shadow of my nipples and makes it very clear to everyone that I am not wearing a bra. It makes me feel very sensual indeed and I was really enjoying my newfound sexuality for the first time in my life. Sometimes I even go out without a dress on, just a coat. On one occasion I was in a ladies dress shop to try on a basque and forgot that under my coat all that I was wearing were stockings and suspenders. The changing facilities were communal so as I took the coat off all the other young girls could see that under it not only was I naked but also that I had no pubic hair to hide my pouting quim. I even went to a fancy dress party wearing a Can Can dancers dress which had a very short see through, net skirt. It was quite obvious that I was not wearing panties and when I did a high kick and lifted the skirt high above my waist in the way that can-can dancers do it was quite clear to everyone there that not only were my cunt and bum bare but my I had shaved my pubes off to show my pussy. My cunt was so easily accessible that a few roving hands went between my legs that night. As the weather became warmer we went to the Naturist beach at Fairlight near Hastings. This was my first time being naked in a very public place. Once there and in the open air with upwards of two hundred other nudists around us I realised that they were only different from other people in that they sunbathed naked and were not ashamed of and didn't hide their bodies. They were otherwise fat, thin, tall, short, knobbly, young, old, in fact apart from being naked they were just ordinary people. Having said this though I was still feeling very self conscious, feeling that everyone was looking at me and staring straight between my legs at my bare, bald and very prominent, sex flaps. Maybe they were and today I would take that as a compliment and enjoy it. I think that again I was probably the only woman on the beach who was fully shaven and with my pussy not even partly hidden by hair I stood out from the crowd. I was different, nothing was hidden. It was a nice feeling. Gradually the feeling of the warm sun on my naked body and especially between my legs made me feel very sexy helping me to relax and overcome my inhibitions . We enjoyed the day very much indeed. I was now becoming very proud of my shaven look hoping that others would enjoy seeing it too as Chris easily persuaded me to lay with my legs spread wide so that everything between them was clearly visible to all. Not all of the people on the beach were nudists some were there just to look at us but it was exciting me, to be so completely naked on a public beach for the very first time, as I felt the warm sun on my fully exposed, shaven lips I became so sexually aroused, this was a wonderful new experience, I was blatantly showing my bare sex to everyone, male or female, naked or dressed, whoever passed by. It gave me such a thrill to think that all those people, some of whom did not strip, could see my naked body my breasts, nipples and especially every detail of my shaven, sexy cunt. I felt that with or without hair, the men showed their cocks then why shouldn't I show my pussy. The lips were swollen, moist and open. I wanted people to see my bare cunt in all it's shaven glory. Chris paraded me up and down the beach to show off my naked body. What is more I enjoyed admiring the many pricks that were paraded in front of me. I had seen very few in my previous life and had not realised that they could vary so much in shapes and sizes. It's just a pity that none were erect. I was now very happy and enjoying my new life as a nudist, being with other people who could see me naked. I was pleased that I had shaved my pussy and made myself so sexy, I enjoy showing it off to everyone. We joined a Nudist Club. I enjoyed our visits there. When we went there I always wore a stretchy but tight micro mini skirt that wriggled up as I walked. It was little more than a pelmet only just covering my crotch and as I walked from the car I let it wriggle up to show everyone that I was not wearing knickers under it, as the folds of my totally bare quim and bum were exposed. I entered into the club spirit by taking part in the body painting. The first time Chris painted a picture of a large honey bee hovering on my lower abdomen just above my bald cunny and in later years I was twice runner up. I was also runner up in the nude glamour competition parading naked on stage in front of over a hundred men and women many with cameras and videos. On that occasion I wore a clip on pearl drop ear ring dangling from my excited and very swollen hair less labia which made them hang down more than normal. They were clearly visible to everyone so that it looked as if my pussy lips were not only shaved but pierced as well. In fact I was asked by one woman what it was like to have my lips pierced because she was thinking of having hers done. That drew attention directly to it which by then was aroused and tingling at the thought of all those people looking straight at, admiring and photographing my shaven and decorated cunt. I wonder just how many people have photos or videos of me displaying myself naked like this. I was introduced as bejewelled Gill. Was I becoming an exhibitionist? Maybe I was. I was certainly very proud of my shaven state and the fact that I was different from most of the other women there. I wanted people to see what I had done to myself. The party nights there were something special. We girls started off dressed scantily and sexily, but ending up dancing naked except for stockings and suspenders. It is a great feeling to be dancing naked and very close to someone and feel his hard cock nudging my shaven cunt but more about this another time. At last the time came round to go off on the coach to France. It was a long and tiring journey and as we set of on the 14th July, Bastille Day, travelling overnight it seemed like the rest of France had joined us on the Autoroute de Sud. Down we went through Lyon, turning west at Orange, half way to Marseille. We arrived later than expected due to the volume of traffic and were shown to our apartment which was very small but overlooking the Marina. After unpacking we ventured out into the town which is quite an amazing place. Agde really is a small town with more than 30,000 people at the height of the season. There are shops, supermarkets, restaurants in fact everything that you would expect to find in any seaside town. Chris who had been before had told me that people would be shopping nude but I really didn't believe him, it couldn't be, it was all exaggeration, but I couldn't have been more wrong. There they were in the supermarkets naked. With so many people around I was shy at first and wore a pareo when shopping. It was tied round my neck so as I walked it flapped open in the breeze showing that I wasn't wearing anything else and displayed my smooth, shorn pussy but hid my breasts. However I soon dispensed with it and went naked like almost everybody else. But I wasn't quite the same was I? I was shaved so that my sex lips were always fully visible, never hidden behind a bush of horrid hair and I was proud of it and took great delight in showing it off. The beach is superb and very clean. We enjoyed our regular walks along the waters edge as it was much cooler than sitting on the sand and we could admire all the naked bodies that were on display. I had never given much thought about other womens pussys but the size and shape of the thousands there was an eye opener to me. As I have said I had always had large labia which protrude especially when I am aroused, as I seemed to be continually here, and I had, in the past, thought that I was a bit odd because of it but here some womens vaginal lips were much bigger than mine so it put me at my ease and now I am very pleased that my lips are quite large and so obvious and being shaved makes them seem that much bigger and sexier. We enjoyed looking at all the other women and men who were shaved like me. On our first visit there were not very many shaven ladies there but on each subsequent vist the number has increased until we have been told that now it is almost 50%. On one occasion on our stroll we came across a couple engaged in a little oral sex on the beach not quite hidden by a fishing boat . Of course being in France it was soisante neuf. Every day we took at least one stroll out of the Naturist beach and into the area where everyone was wearing beachwear, but we remained naked all the time so that I was proudly, openly and blatantly displaying my hairless cunt and Chris his shaven prick as we walked among the crowds of people. Though many of the women were topless it was a great feeling to be the only ones there who were completely naked and the centre of attention with all eyes on us. I got a huge thrill though from displaying my very naked body on a crowded beach to these non naturists. By this time I was thoroughly enjoying strolling in the streets and shopping arcades and sitting at the alfresco cafes and bars stark naked. I always sat with my legs spread wide and with no pussy hair to cover me my cunt was constantly excited, swollen and intentionally open inviting everyone to look and hopefully admire it. On the beach I always lay with my legs apart to get the sun to my sex and it felt magic when Chris caressed me under the pretext of rubbing sun cream over my nipples and then between my legs, it made my lips part with arousal showing my clitoris as his finger slipped between the lips and inside me. I was getting the sun to every part of my body and for the first time ever I got an all over suntan. As my nipples and sex lips became suntanned they went very dark making them show up even more than before. I felt so sexy laying there with everything I had on open display to hundreds of strangers. I revelled in the admiring looks that I got from ladies as well as the men who passed by and saw me so blatantly exhibiting my sex. It was also my first close encounter with body decoration especially piercing. Girls with rings and studs in their nipples and labia sometimes with pretty little chains through and linking them all together. Some of the labia piercings stretched the lips so that they hung down by well over an inch or so. Men with rings in their pricks and balls. Some of the ringed ladies looked very attractive as did some of the tattoos. I sometimes wore a transfer tattoo either on my breast or on my bald pubic mound in order to draw attention to it and the sex lips below. The supermarkets were well stocked with a superb choice of food and goodies. The boutiques have plenty of outrageously sexy fashions as in the evenings when out in the town or in the bars and cafes anything goes and you can dress to expose whatever part of your body that you like. However the prices were quite high compared with prices in England but then you can't buy many of these items in English shops. It is very common in the evening to see ladies wearing transparent clothes or just a tiny brightly coloured thong and high heels with breasts and bums bare, micro mini skirts and dresses, usually without knickers, their pubes and pussies peeping from under the very skimpiest, almost non existent skirts. It really is the most exhilarating experience to have complete freedom to be as blatantly sexy as I wished in public. I wore my sexiest, totally transparent dresses that clearly showed that underneath all that I wore were either stockings and suspenders or just neck, waist and ankle chains to go out in the evening to stroll around the shops which stayed open until late. It really is a wonderful feeling to walk naked or nearly so in a shop and to spread my legs and bend over to inspect something on a low shelf, knowing that my bare arsehole and shaven cunt is visible to all. When dressed I always wore clothes that clearly and openly displayed the fact that I do not wear any undies and drew attention to my shaven sex and my breasts. Was I an exhibitionist? I really enjoyed the parades in public with my naked body clad in only a totally transparent black kaftan, my shaven pussy showing through the nylon, neatly framed by sexy black suspenders and stockings turning everyones heads as Chris took me through the bright lights of the town and in the shops. Yes I had become an exhibitionist and was loving every minute of it and playing to the crowd. We hired a car for a time and with another couple set off for the ancient walled city of Carcasonne. It was a very hot day and I was very glad that all I wore was a lightweight almost see through flared mini dress with nothing at all under it or I would have withered in the heat. I loved the feeling of being in the town with the breeze wafting under the skirt of my dress and caressing my naked pussy that was only hidden by just an inch or so of the skirt. Had there been a stronger breeze the fact that I was knickerless would have been constantly apparent to the crowds of people there. As it was if I bent to examine something in a shop window my bare bum and naked sex lips would show. Carcasonne really is worth a visit, a fully restored mediaeval walled city. We also took the bus into the old town of Agde with its wonderful market. A town full of character but also full of people on market day. Again all that I wore was a mini dress and Chris was constantly lifting it up to feel my bare bum. I was even asked to pose for a French amateur photographer which flattered me very much. The pictures were to be nude of course. The poses started off quite ordinary but it was not long before he persuaded me take up some that clearly demonstrated that his main interest was the fact that I was shaven and that my bald sex lips could be seen easily in his photographs. When Chris commented on this to him he said that in his view "a woman is not naked until she has removed all the hair from her cunt and is prepared to show it". Well I had shaved off all of mine and was thoroughly enjoying showing my bare cunt in so sexy a manner so that is a sentiment that both Chris and I agree with and I have no desire ever to be hirsute again. He took several photos with my legs spread wide apart looking at my gaping pussy. In some shots his camera was so close to my sex that it felt as if I was being fucked by it. He sent us copies of all the photos that he took. Chris would love me to pose that way for photographers here in England but the situation is so different I don't know if I could but you never know the opportunity has not come up yet. That holiday made me able to appreciate my sexuality and now we try to be as naked as the weather allows. I have been seen naked by the postman on several occasions but he is a nice chap and always says that he doesn't look and we always have a laugh about it. We have also been seen naked by passing cyclists while in our front garden. We try to be naked or dress in very revealing or erotic clothes when at home. Since that first visit to Agde I have given up wearing underclothes altogether no knickers or bras, summer or winter and we always keep my pussy completely shaved. All of our friends know that I am always bare under my skirt. It is very sensuous to feel the breeze and fresh air between my legs and around my very bare sex lips and often when we are out my unfettered breasts and nipples can often be clearly seen, covered only by one of my many lace, crocheted or transparent blouses. In summer I wear as little as possible to stay just within the bounds of decency and warmth and I often go out in the town wearing nothing but a coat and stockings and open it to give allow Chris to take photos of me flashing my almost naked body in the streets. In addition to that we have a large number of photos of me naked in public places. Hooked This was the lead-in story to Double Heart tattoo. A story which a number of you really didn’t seem to like very much – oh well. Anyway if you like this one I just might be persuaded to do a re-write on DHt. Via con Dios - juanwildone “Oh my God! You just fucked that girl didn’t you?” I turned to follow the direction of my wife’s glare. All I saw was a perfect thong divided ass swaying slowly away. As to fucking her – hell yes, I had fucked her and then some. To be precise I had mentally already had her on her knees giving me a knee buckling blowjob. When she gratefully and adoringly swallowed my load it acted as an powerful aphrodisiac and she quickly stripped and had me fuck her to a mind shattering orgasm. After that she sucked me stiff and pleaded with me to take her anal cherry - which I did to her grateful thanks. So yes I had fucked her. I was guilty as charged but…there was no way I was going to admit it. This was another classic lose/lose situation. Deny the fantasy fuck and my wife would call me a liar – and rightfully so. Admit it and I would be just as fucked – since this was the beginning of a week long vacation in The Islands. The primary purpose of which was to re-ignite our under used, over-stressed, ‘I’m just too tired tonight’ sex life. A pissed-off and untrusting mate would not be the way to begin said re-ignition. I turned back to my wife and saw my salvation. Her neck and shoulders were splotching – she was aroused! “Oh. And you didn’t?” The best defense in a lose/lose situation is a relentless balls-to-the-wall offense. When on the attack keep it vague and above all - do not pause unless you have to breathe. “You should see how flush you are.” Her hand went instinctively to her upper chest as if she would be able to feel her color. “You weren’t this red for me this morning.” I had indulged in a bit of cunilingual delight as a ‘good morning’ wake up. I had stretched it out long enough that by the time she came – and she came hard – we were running late for a tour she had scheduled. Whereas, I can get a blowjob and be satisfied with that, for Karen, my wife (I should have introduced her earlier – by the way I’m Matt) oral sex simply fans a flame that can only be extinguished with a thorough fucking. “I bet you panties are soaked.” And I knew they would be because we were headed back to the cabana and she was clearly in a mood to finish what we had started this morning, which was why my wandering eyes had her so righteously pissed off. I made a move reach under her sundress. “You’re crazy.” And she slapped my hand away. But her breathing betrayed her. It wasn’t shallow and angry, it was deep tremolos and erotic. I love it when her nostrils flare. It was time to go for broke. The great thing about betting the farm was that if I lost she would be laughing her ass off at my expense and my mental fantasy fuck would evaporate into a forgotten nothingness. But if I won, oh baby, if I won...I turned to face the retreating thong. “Excuse me miss. Yes you.” My heart pounded as she stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “My wife would like to ask you something.” She completed her turn and walked back. “Hi, my name is Matt and this is my wife Karen. And you are…?” Michelle introduced herself as a fellow vacationer. She was staying through the weekend and was in the same section of the resort as we were. I quickly offered an arm to each woman and suggested that we save the Q & A until we could share a drink. Since we were already walking in the direction of our cabana I suggested it as the logical destination. I kept the conversation going with an endless stream of insightful observations about the beauty and sensuality of this tropical island paradise and the relative size of the different bedrooms available here, vis-à-vis, hotel accommodations (where Michelle was staying) and cabana lodgings (where we were lodged). Once inside I steered the girls to the couch and got their drinks. I gave Michelle hers and then turned to Karen. As I handed the drink to her I let my hand rest on my wife’s knee and leaned in or a quick kiss. Of course my hand slid up her thigh taking her sundress with it. Karen tried to push it back down but I feigned losing my balance. I noticed that Michelle not only got a good look at Karen’s legs but we all got a whiff of Karen’s arousal. “Michelle, obviously Karen and I were both taken by your extraordinary beauty and sexuality. I must confess that Karen correctly called me on mentally ‘having my way with you’ when you walked past earlier. I called her on the same, although I don’t know if she had her way with you or you had your way with her.” I turned to Karen and her mouth was slack in stunned disbelief as I outrageously continued on. I pushed my pile of chips to the center of the table, in a manner of speaking, and turned back to Michelle. “I’m sure that a man hitting on you is nothing new and possibly a woman hitting on you is not that uncommon either. But I have never seen Karen like this. She wants you. She wants to see, touch, smell, and taste you.” I reached out and pulled Michelle closer to Karen by placing Michele’s hand on Karen’s thigh where mine had just been. The girls were looking at each other eye to eye so I stood and walked out onto the lanai and sat in a rattan chair. “Matt. Would you please come in here?” I stood slowly and attempted to straighten my shorts so that I could walk. Karen with her full breasts and flaring hips lay beside Michelle’s slim Asian suppleness. Both had their outer leg bent with the knee thrown wide so that their glistening cunts sparkled in the ambient light. From the chorus of moans I had listened to over the last hour I knew that those very cunts had been thoroughly explored and enjoyed. “Take off your clothes and stand at the foot of the bed.” Karen spoke with a matter-of-factness that surprised and aroused me. “Straddled our legs and walk on your knees.” I slowly crawled forward until I my thighs were pressing into their hot, wet crotches. My cock twitched as I watched them reach out for it. The women watched with half-closed eyes as they fondled and stroked me. I knew I wouldn’t last long and all too soon my breathing became labored as my body spasmed. I cried out loudly as I sprayed them, waves of pleasure continuing long after I had ceased ejaculating. I was still semi-erect as they moved about until Karen was positioned before me with her legs spread wide. I was now standing at the foot of the bed again. Michelle had Karen lift her hips, which Michelle supported with a number of pillows until Karen’s cunt was at the same height as my hardening cock. “I really need to be fucked right now Matt.” Karen’s eyes were glazed with lust. I pointed my cock at her cunt and watched in amazement as Michelle gently spread Karen’s swollen labia allowing me to slide easily inside her. We had never tried this position (hard to believe) and its benefits were immediately apparent. The head of my cock was rubbing back and forth across the roof of Karen’s cunt giving her G-spot a thorough stimulation. Once I was inside Michelle turned her attention to Karen’s nipples and mouth. For the first time in my life I was watching my wife make out with another woman – it was fucking unreal. I lifted Karen’s legs and hooked her heels over my shoulders. I kept an even steady pace. I knew I was doing her right because she kept breaking off Michelle’s kisses so that she could look at me. Her furrowed brow told me that I was hitting all the right spots. I can count of one hand the number of times Karen has come with me inside her – it’s that rare an event. Her panting seemed to drop an octave and she wrapped her legs around my hips encouraging me to quicken the pace – which I did. Her panting increased in speed and intensity along with a whole lot of hip thrusts when she suddenly became silent and completely rigid. I kept thrusting into her and felt my own orgasm swell and then release. She went from completely rigid to totally limp in a micro-second – she looked as if she had passed out. She literally slid off of my cock and the stack of pillows. I was just trying to stay standing while Michelle gently stroked Karen’s hair. I gave up on standing and slowly collapsed to the floor. I found myself at eye level with her well-fucked cunt. Cum was already leaking out of her. Usually Karen has something ready to stop the leak – not this time. I watched as my sperm flowed slowly out of the bottom of her cunt and across her perineum, it pool momentarily at her little starfish then dripped onto the bed. I slowly climbed onto the bed and slid in between the two women my still erect cock pointing toward the headboard. Karen’s eyes were glazed while Michele’s blazed with lust. I had hardly lain back when Michele sat up and look at Karen then nodded her head in my direction. I heard a barely audible “yes” from Karen and Michele immediately proceeded to suck my cock. When she was apparently satisfied that I was both hard enough and wet enough she swung a leg over me and impaled herself on my cock. She started doing a wild hula/belly dancer thing with her hips that didn’t do a whole lot for me but seemed to be doing all the right things for her. She was doing whole body tremors inside of five minutes and it appeared that she was well on her way to a very satisfying orgasm. Damn it, I wanted mine too. I lifted her hips up and pulled her off of my cock. She wasn’t resisting, nor was she helping much. I can’t say that I did this deliberately but I must confess to a healthy degree of perv-ness. By this I mean that I rolled her over toward my wife so the Michelle was lying chest to chest over Karen. Michelle’s ass was positioned perfectly for me and I thrust into her. I fucked her as hard and as fast as I could. I was pounding her pussy to the slap – slap – slap of my hips to her ass. She started to push back against me and then she came. Then Michelle did something that blew my cork. She lifted Karen’s arm so that Karen’s hand had to touch Michelle’s pussy where my cock was pounding her. Since Michelle had already cum I thrust deeply into her and pumped my balls empty. As my cock began to soften I pumped slowly a couple of times causing my sperm to drip into Karen’s hand. I pulled out and dropped into a deep sleep. From deep within my slumber I felt a rocking motion. When will these women leave me alone? “Matt, wake up…its time. Come on Matt open up those baby blues honey.” I blinked, stretched, and smelled the tropical air. I was a little stiff. I looked at Karen and smiled. She wasn’t exactly smiling back. It was one of those one eyebrow raised looks that tell me I’m treading on thin ice. “That better be because of me buster.” I followed her gaze to my tented Dockers. Well hell - In for a penny, in for a pound. What’s the use of having an active imagination if you don’t use it? “I had every intention of using this on the flight here. I can’t wait to show you all the exciting things we can do with one of these.” I smiled or rather I leered my best at her. “You just never know where one of these might come in handy.” “I can’t imagine what you mean.” Although her expression suggested that she knew otherwise. I got our bags from the overhead and drew a great draught of island air. “Our first day of vacation. This is going to be great!” I gave Karen a healthy goose as she bent over the seat to retrieve her book. She swatted back at me and ended up with a handful of hard cock. She squeezed it. Ah yes The Islands – I was hooked. Hooked THIS STORY IS INTENDED FOR ADULT READING ONLY ---------------------------------------- Once, long ago, banks had more humans in them than computers. And sometimes a bank clerk who put a foot wrong in a dim corridor could get herself a totally unexpected deposit from a very prominent customer. ---------------------------------------- There's a financial newspaper on my desk and it says that Georgie Kalvos is dead. I'm half wishing he's doing a stint in hell and half hoping he's got plenty of good looking women down there to keep him company - yes, and an occasional bottle of ouzo to slake his thirst too. It's been many years since I last saw him and if I'm going to remember him I'll remember him as he was. A middle aged man with the smile of a boy, the build of a gorilla, the manners of a courtier and the morals of a shark. Talking of sharks, I wonder if Colette the big time madam is remembering Georgie and the first girl who ever turned a trick for her? For a long time I resented Colette and Georgie because they made a fool out of me. Yet if Colette was here now I'd gladly share a toast with her to our Greek lover's memory. Colette runs a brothel and I run a bank, and still I think that Georgie was one of the few real man that either one of us has ever known. Slowly, I rub my palms over my desk, thinking back to that other manager's office, that other desk, the one that creaked underneath my weight as the bars of sunlight leaking through the blinds fell onto the dollar bills jammed into the tops of my bank-uniform nylons. I remember the roughness of Georgie's hands between my opened thighs and Colette's excited voice jeering at me: "Hey, Yvonne, I think he wants to make a deposit in you!" It was when I'd first joined the bank, as a teenage junior teller. It was a time when all the world loved the Beatles, when computers were still out of sight and out of mind, and when I was terribly excited about living away from home for the first time. Not that the branch I'd started in was located anywhere at all exciting. Just a small fishing town where the fresh sea breeze was often tainted with the smell of drying nets and diesel fumes from the trawlers. The bank had arranged accommodation in the local YWCA, and it was Colette who showed me around it for the first time. She was a plump, cheerful girl with an outgoing personality who had the room next to mine and also worked at the bank. In fact the bank was such a small one that Colette and I were the sole full time staff, plus the manager. The only other employee was a local married woman who came in during the mornings to help with the bookwork. Though everything seemed fine at first I soon had an vague impression that Colette had something on her mind that she wanted to talk about. One afternoon she invited me into her room to share some beer she'd smuggled in and to have a little chat. It turned out to be a little chat with some big surprises in it. "Listen, Yvonne, I've got a private arrangement at the bank. The thing is, I need your help to keep it going. The girl who had your job before was happy to help out and I'm hoping you'll do the same." My first reaction was a horrible fear that I was being invited to help cook the books. "God, no," Colette had answered, laughing. "No, it's nothing like that at all. It's to do with Georgie Kalvos." As new as I was in town I already knew something about Georgie, a classic immigrant success story. He'd arrived in town as a teenager with only the clothes on his back and hardly able to speak a word of English. A lot of people thought that originally he'd jumped ship. If so, it had been the first of many smart moves: now he owned four fishing boats, a processing plant and even the trucks that took his catch off to the markets had his name on their sides. But what he and Colette could have in common I couldn't imagine. So I asked her. "Well . . ." Colette seemed rather coy. "Before I go back to the city I'd like to make as much spare cash as I can. And what Georgie wants is some fun on the side. He's certainly got the money to pay for it. The problem is that this is a small town and his wife is a Greek as well. You know how jealous these foreign wives can be about every little thing." I hardly knew anything at all about marriage or marriages, whether foreign or domestic. But I just nodded. "So, we've got this arrangement. Every Thursday afternoon our boss goes off to the weekly managers' meeting upstate. Which just leaves me and the other teller in the branch. Which also means that from now on you'll be the other teller, right?" Yes, I said, I supposed so. Of course this was a small town back in an era when people went on holiday without bothering to lock their doors and bank robberies only happened in Westerns. "So what?" I asked. "So on Thursday afternoons Georgie comes in to collect the payroll for his workers." "What about it?" Colette sighed in frustration and looking back I can't blame her. I must have led an incredibly sheltered life. "Yvonne, what I'm trying to tell you is that when he arrives I take him into the manager's office to get the money out of the safe. He'll arrive just before closing time and we'll be in there for about an hour. So I'd be really grateful if you'd cash up and keep look-out for us until I let him out of the back door. And please don't come knocking on the office door unless you have to." I nearly dropped my glass in surprise when I finally understood what she was talking about: "In the bank! You're doing it with a customer in the bank!" "I told you, he has to be very careful about his wife not finding out. So going to the bank for the payroll is a perfect alibi. Who's ever going to suspect that anything would be going on there?" "But, Colette, why do you do it?" "For money, that's why. He leaves me a hundred dollar tip from the wages afterwards." I was astonished all over again. In those days fifty dollars was a good wage for a week's work. For a woman, anyway. "Look, all I need is for you not to tell anyone. It's worth ten bucks for you to cover for me. The important thing is that you keep an eye open for the boss coming back early from the meeting and maybe dropping into the bank on his way home. He never has done yet but it might happen sometime. If it does just ring the office bell under the counter and then keep him talking as long as you can. It doesn't have to be all that long because I always keep most of my clothes on - all except the really important bits." I recall how she'd giggled in amusement at her own bravado. I'd thought she was a silly little girl who was one day going to miserably sad about how she'd sacrificed her virtue for a few dollars. Yes, well, the world was different then, or at least a lot of us had been brought up to think it was. Anyway, if anybody wants to look for a moral in all this, Colette is now worth millions whilst I'm still looking after other peoples' money. At the time though I was as stuck up and snotty as only a young fool can be. I'd said that I didn't want her dollars and whatever she did with Mr Kalvos was her business and nothing to do with me. "Well, suit yourself," Colette had answered cheerfully. "Susie, the last girl, she had a different ideas altogether. I'd better not tell you about what the pair of us got up to though, or you'll be really shocked." Shocked! And this was the same girl I'd seen carrying the collection plate around in church on Sunday! "But you won't tell on me?" "No, I won't say anything - but, Colette, isn't it - well, awful? You know, doing it with an old man? An older man, anyway." That had amused her a lot: "Yvonne, Georgie is a wonderful lover. If you ever find a man half as good you'll be lucky. Anyway, always remember, the older the man is the more likely he is to be telling you the truth about his vasectomy!" It was a conversation which made me think I still had a lot to learn about life. It was also a long time before I got to sleep that night - especially as it was a Wednesday night. You could say I was gripped by a lot of conflicting emotions. But for all my brave words it was my curiosity which was most stirred. I'd always thought sex for normal women was all to do with marriage and white gowns and honeymoons and lifelong romance - not something to be bought and sold in a bank office like any other commodity. Or was it all some huge joke that Colette was playing on me? I finally decided it had to be a joke, and that my co-worker must have a very strange sense of humor. Georgie Kalvos arrived precisely when Colette said he would, and we both called him Mr Kalvos respectfully; after all, he was the bank's biggest customer. And he behaved like it, with not the slightest hint that he was there for anything but business reasons. On the other hand, things continued to go exactly as Colette had predicted. She and Georgie went off to the manager's office together and after I'd locked the front doors and emptied the cash registers they were still in there. Almost a quarter of an hour by then. Something more than checking the payroll had to be going on, but what? Where they really having sex together, or was Colette teaching him double entry book keeping or something? It was driving me crazy, not knowing. There was a way to find out though - just to slip out very quietly into the corridor and listen for a few seconds. Whatever was going on in the office, I should get a clue to it from some very discreet eavesdropping. I'd like to say I had to struggle with my conscience before I decided to do it, but the truth is that my conscience was as curious as the rest of me. When I tiptoed out into the gloomy corridor I was totally surprised to find that the manager's office door was half opened. What was more, I could hear Colette muttering softly and giggling. Like a cat being drawn towards catmint I simply couldn't help taking a few more steps down the corridor. And what I finally saw made me gasp and then clasp my hands to my mouth to belatedly stifle the sound. For Colette was bent over the desk, her back to the door. She was still wearing the white crisp blouse which, with a dark skirt, was the bank's summer uniform. But she certainly wasn't wearing her skirt, just a wispy pair of black panties, a black suspender belt and uniform issue dark stockings. It was a sight which made my heart jump, my mouth go dry and set my legs trembling. For some reason I had a sudden mental picture of Colette standing in her booth and calmly serving the customers the way she was now, perfectly normal from the waist up and practically naked below. In fact I'd never before seen panties like the ones she was wearing, of the thinnest silk and briefest cut imaginable, panties which looked as if they would float like thistle seed if somebody threw them into the air. In fact that seemed to be exactly their raison d'etre, to be dragged off their wearer and tossed carelessly aside by some lust crazed male. Even at the time I couldn't help wondering where the shop was that she'd bought them from. George appeared in the doorway, also with his back to me. In his hand were what looked like a wad of bills. I saw him take one of them in his other hand, fold it and slip it into Colette's stocking tops. Then the same hand lifted up and gently caressed the gusset of her panties. Colette giggled again, stirred around on the desk top and hissed approvingly. Her well rounded buttocks lifted up higher in an obvious invitation to Georgie's fingers, which probed a line of blonde curls that had suddenly appeared in the panties. I found myself blushing at the sight. For a second or so I actually thought her underwear had split open, until I realized that they had an open gusset, that the panties were actually designed that way, to reveal much more than they hid. At least my curiosity was satisfied now about whether Georgie and Colette were indeed having an affair. What also amazed me was that they hadn't even bothered to close the door properly. Still, they certainly hadn't seen me and all I had to do was to creep away softly from this embarrassing situation. And it was then, when I tried to back away, that I found out how big a mistake I'd made. Because the hem of my skirt tugged around my legs when I tried to step back, just as a bell tinkled inside the office. I gasped in horror and tried to flee but my dammed skirt seemed to be stuck in mid-air, and then I heard the sound of tearing cloth as the bell kept on tinkling. Georgie had already swung around towards the doorway. Panic stricken by then, I bent over and brushed my hands over the places where the skirt seemed to be held, then yelped as something small but viciously sharp snagged one of my fingers. The office door flew open, casting more light into the corridor and finally letting me see what was happening. On each white painted wall were tiny pieces of clear sticky tape, opposite to each other and about two feet above the carpet. Stretched between them was a length of very fine black fishing line which had been invisible in the dimly lit corridor. And hanging from every inch of the line were tiny black painted hooks with four barbs sticking out of each of them, barbs with extremely sharp points. It was these which had gotten caught up in my skirt. In total panic I made one last desperate attempt to pull free of the hooks and achieved nothing but making one or two more rips just above the hemline. The bell tinkled again as if an impatient customer was waiting and Georgie's laughter echoed it. He bent down and picked up another length of fishing line which was obviously attached to the one with the hooks on. The other end was just as obviously attached to the bell in the office. Standing there with my mouth hanging open I stared at the man's grinning face as I finally understood how I had stumbled into a trap, a simple but very effective one which had snared me as easily as a rabbit in a noose. Not only trapped, but warning Georgie and Colette that I was standing out in the corridor! What a fool I'd been! Before I could even think of anything to say Georgie walked towards me, grabbed my wrists, pulled me towards him and kissed me full on the lips. A mingled and overpowering aroma of spearmint mouthwash and garlic went into my nose and deep down into my lungs as I made a futile attempt to push him away. It was like trying to shove a wall over. He simply lifted my wrists up over my shoulders without the slightest effort, as though he were dangling a rag doll. "Beautiful girl, Yvonne. I like you so much," he said happily. Behind him Colette was standing in the doorway, apparently not embarrassed at all about the way she was dressed or what I'd seen them doing. "I thought you'd come and have a look. That's great, now you can see as much as you like." "No, I don't want to see anything," I protested, still squirming ineffectually in Georgie's iron grip. "Then how come we've caught you snooping on us? That wasn't what I asked you to do, that was something you decided to do yourself. Keep her there, Georgie." Colette walked towards me, around me, so she was facing George, then quite calmly started undoing my belt! "What do you think you're doing!" I protested. Colette answered me in a totally unsympathetic way: "Sorry, but I guess you've landed yourself right in it now, Yvonne. Don't panic though, nobody is going to hurt you." My muscles tensed, ready to fight or flee. But how could I do either with Georgie holding my arms and my toes hardly touching the ground? "As for what we're doing, we're protecting ourselves, Yvonne." Colette continued briskly. "Look, this is a pretty dangerous game Georgie and I are playing. If his wife were to find out about this we'd have the Trojan wars all over again. Personally, I want to start my own business soon and I'll probably need a bank loan. I wouldn't have much chance of getting one if I was remembered as the girl who got fired from a bank herself for getting screwed by the customers. So we have to be careful." I made one more attempt to wriggle free from Georgie and then instantly stopped as Colette unhooked the hook and eye at the skirt's waist. One more such movement and it was clear that my skirt was going to slip down. "Now, if you hadn't come into the corridor we wouldn't have bothered about you. After all you couldn't have seen anything so you couldn't have said for certain that anything was really going on. But you did come near the office, you did see what was happening. It's a problem for us then, to make sure you don't tell anybody else." "You left the god dammed door open, didn't you? I wouldn't have seen anything but for that!" Colette laughed at my anger, reached out and toyed with my zipper tab. "No you wouldn't have seen anything, so you would have crept up closer to the door and listened instead, and you would have been just as certain about what was going. We left the door open so that if the bell was rung we could be out in the corridor before you ran away. Truth to tell, I didn't think the fishhooks would work as well as they did. They were Georgie's idea when we were planning this." "What do you mean, planning it?" "Well, it wouldn't have been much of a plan if you'd stayed out front as you were supposed to. There wouldn't have been any problem either about you telling tales on us." I hastily shook my head in rebuttal: "There isn't any problem. I won't tell anyone, I promise." "Yeah, Yvonne maybe, but Georgie and I would be much surer of that if you had as much to lose as we do." She jerked the zipper down and tweaked the pleats on the skirt. Even at that moment I was surprised about how Georgie was just standing there, letting Colette do all the talking. I had already begun to realize how strong a personality she had. Now I had a demonstration of how ruthless she was as well as my skirt dropped down around my feet. Georgie laughed and said something in Greek which sounded as if he was pleased. His head was bent forward as he looked down at my legs. "Oh, he likes you alright. He's been hoping like hell you'd come along, haven't you, Georgie?" I tried to speak calmly: "Please, Colette, what is it you want me to do?" She gave a little half smile, put her hands on my hips, lifted them underneath my shirt, her fingertips scratched at my skin, and then went down into the tops of my panties. "Colette, no!" "Ten . . nine . . eight . . seven . . and still coming down!" Colette mocked me as she pulled my underwear down around my legs. Georgie whooped with glee at what she was doing. Because I was stretched up the bottom of my shirt had been lifted almost to my waist and between the shirt and my stocking tops I was now totally naked. It was all a nightmare, impossible, that I could be displayed like this in front of a leering old man. "Colette, you're a slut!" I cursed her. "And you're a miserable fucking bitch, Yvonne. For God's sake put a smile on your face and enjoy the party. And don't worry, you can come as you are." She laughed at the expression on my face, knelt down and finished slipping the panties down to ankle height: "Off the deck, please, Georgie." "OK", Georgie responded, lifting me completely off the floor for the second it took Colette to slip the waistband over my uniform lace-up shoes. She knelt back and jerked the fishing line free of the wall, then stood up holding my skirt and panties. "So that's it, Georgie. You can let her go now." My heels fell back onto the carpet with a perceptible jolt as he released me: "You are OK, Yvonne?" Georgie asked me, his weathered face split open in a huge smile. I'd actually started to massage my wrists before I realized how my shirt was still rucked up around my middle and hastily tugged it down. Even with my shirt held down at full stretch and bending forward I was barely decent. Hooked Colette stepped past and looked scornful: "You live in perpetual fear of giving any man any pleasure, don't you, Yvonne?" "Give me my clothes back." "Hmmm. . . maybe your skirt, later. Maybe; but not these." She smiled and held up my panties, turning over the waistband and looking at them closely. "When you were unpacking in your room I noticed this neat habit you have of inking your name on all your clothing. It's a hangover from school camp days you've got to stop, Yvonne. The last thing a smart young lady should is to put her name in indian ink on her undies. You never know where they may turn up. Like these, for example." "What do you mean?" "I mean that I'm going to put these and your skirt away in the safe and keep them locked up until Georgie and I are finished. Afterwards, I'll give you your skirt back but not these little charmers. Right at the back of the safe are a pile of mortgage files that usually only get taken out once every six months. So I'm going to tuck these away in those files. Which will make it an interesting situation, because there's only two keys to the safe, the manager's and mine. If you keep quiet about Georgie and me I'll take these out before the mortgages get checked. On the other hand, if rumors should start up in the town about wild goings on in the bank, then old pumpkin-head might get a tip-off to take a close look inside his safe. Maybe he'll get a notion you somehow managed to plant your panties inside it because you've got an uncontrollable passion for him." Colette laughed at the idea, and no wonder. The manager was so fat he could hardly waddle and his head did look uncannily like a Halloween mask. Not that it stopped him making fresh remarks to all the girls, which was about the only fresh thing about him, as he had a body odor problem like a garbage truck. As for the idea of him finding my underwear tucked away in the back of the office safe - well, the ensuing interview was just unimaginable! "Colette -you can't do that! Please!" Her response was to bend down in front of the safe and to put away not only my skirt but hers as well, folding them up neatly as she did so. With Georgie standing beside her there was no way I could even try to stop her. Then she pulled out a couple of the files from the back of the safe and made a big thing of blowing dust off the covers. "If you think about things for a few minutes, Yvonne, I guess you'll soon realize there's a way I don't have to do this. After all, it would be a pity for all of us if pumpkin-head were to find these accidentally through spring cleaning his safe or something." She pushed the panties inside one of the covers and replaced the files. It seemed clear enough, even in my naïveté, what she was suggesting. I didn't want to say it out openly though, that if I did for Georgie what she was clearly prepared to do for him, then I would be just as implicated as she was. And if I was as guilty as she was there'd be no need for any blackmailing items left in the safe because there was no way I would dare talk about any of this. Georgie grinned at me as Colette relocked the safe and stood up, hanging the key back around her neck on a thin silver chain. As soon as she was upright he grunted impatiently, caught her by the scruff of her neck and pushed her back towards the desk. Colette giggled and leaned forward over the side, in the same position as when I'd first seen her. Georgie went down on his knees, hooked his fingers into the split gusset of her panties, pulled them apart and then buried his face into her bottom like a bear snuffling for honey. Colette laughed and raised her buttocks again to give him room to work. She looked to her side, towards me, with a sardonic smile. "Haven't you run away, yet, Yvonne?" "No," I replied, my mouth incredibly dry. "No, I haven't run away. How far could I run, dressed like this?" Colette giggled, partly at what I was saying and partly because of what Georgie's tongue was doing to her. "Why don't you make yourself useful, then? Go to the other side of the desk, where Georgie can see you, and take off your shirt for him. Before he gets mad and rips it off you." It seemed to take ages before my feet began moving. Even longer before I was standing in front of Colette's head with Georgie's keen eyes looking up at me like a feeding eagle's from over her prone back. My own eye was caught by a length of thin black thread which went from underneath the desk to the top handle of the filing cabinet, a small shiny bell like a Christmas tree decoration hanging from it. Obviously it was the bell I'd heard giving the alarm when I'd been caught. Once again I felt angry astonishment at how easily I'd fallen into the trap. But I'd only fallen into the trap because I'd fallen into temptation and now I must do my penance. Standing behind the manager's padded chair, I was just about decently shielded as I began to unbutton the front of my shirt. Colette was glancing up frequently and still gasping in delight at Georgie's handiwork - tongue work - whilst I worked my way down the buttons, wondering how it could be that I was managing to undo them with my fingers trembling so much. When I slipped the shirt off my arms and put it down across the top of the chair, I was left with only my bra and jewelry above my waist, and only my stockings and suspenders behind the chair. "Very nice girl, Yvonne. You are very beautiful." I looked up from my discarded shirt and saw that Georgie was leaning back on his haunches, the same big smile on his face. One of his hands was exploring Colette where his mouth has just been, though it seemed to be something he was less interested in doing than in looking at me. "Turn that chair around and sit on it," Colette demanded. Wondering what she had in mind I did as she wanted, spinning the swivel chair around and sitting in it with my back to her. I heard her moving and felt her behind me, just before the chair was rotated again. Colette had turned it, with Georgie still on the other side of the desk, standing now and grinning widely at me as I made a last futile effort to protect my modesty by putting my hands in my lap. Her sharp fingernails dug into my earlobes, painfully. "Hands on top of the arm rests, honey, and knees wide apart. Here's where the fun really starts for you." Georgie sank back down onto the carpet, behind the desk and out of sight, before appearing again as he crawled underneath it, his thick black hair moving up between my black stockings. I felt the tickling of his mustache's ends against my sensitive skin and gasped. Georgie laughed, pressed against me even closer and put his tongue against my bush of pubic hairs, dampening them. At the same moment he released a catch on the side of the chair which he seemed to be very familiar with and I slumped backwards. When the chair had settled into the new position I could see Colette looking down at me with interest, and Georgie's face peering up at me with even more interest. "It's like being in a dentist's chair, but without the pain, just lots of pleasure," Colette encouraged me. "All we need now is a couple more adjustments. Lift your legs up and put them on the desk." Georgie's hands seemed rough and strong as he put them behind my knees, on the soft hot skin underneath the nylon stockings. He helped me lift my legs up until I could rest the heels of my shoes on top of the desk, and I hoped to God I wasn't marking the polished wooden surface. Georgie seemed far more interested in the wet mark he'd made on me, blowing softly on the place. This couldn't be happening, not in the bank, not with a man's eyes only inches away from the most intimate part of my body, not with his breath fluttering against a dampness that was more and more my own involuntary reaction to that first touch of his tongue. It all seemed so much a lunatic's dream that it seemed quite normal for Colette to be pulling my bra straps off my shoulders. "OK, Georgie boy, I've kept my side of the deal. She's all yours." Again I felt the stiff hairs on Georgie's upper lip scratching me, again I felt the warmth and wetness of his tongue working against me, probing its target area with practiced skill. It was like having an electric eel swimming into me, an indescribable sensation. "Deal - what deal?" I gasped. "Oh, Georgie always paid a nice fat bonus for the fun of fucking me and Susie together. As soon as he saw you he offered me the same deal again if I could get you to join in. And it looks as if he's going to have to pay up." "No - no. I won't. . ." Even as I was making the denial I was gripping the arm rests of the chair like an astronaut during blastoff and beginning to moan with pleasure. Colette's fingers curled around the shoulder straps, holding them out each side of me and horizontally, then jerking them left and right, again and again, shaking the cups and slowly but surely shucking my breasts out of them. "Colette!" I squealed in protest and then everything went loose, with the trapped flesh breaking free and falling out on one side and then the other. She laughed and Georgie leaned back and looked up at me, taking a long slow look which made me blush and lower my eyes in shame behind the empty cups resting on top of my exposed breasts. "Yvonne, you are very beautiful girl. But you need a man to make you a woman. When I fuck you I make you a very happy woman." His hands, those work roughened hands settled on my thighs, slid over the stocking tops, the thumbs touched my pussy and spread the lips apart as if he was opening an oyster before tasting the meat inside. "No! No!" Georgie leaned forward again, licking me much deeper and more thoroughly until I was wriggling around in the chair, the regular creaking noise from underneath it counter pointing my panting as I wondered how much more of this I could stand. Not only was that tongue driving me crazy, Colette had begun scratching at my tightening nipples very, very lightly with her nails. She chuckled as she saw my hands touch the top Georgie's head and stroke it. "Georgie, honey, I think I'd better get the altar ready so we can sacrifice a virgin who looks like she badly needs it!" Colette was absolutely right, of course, because eventually they got me into a state where I wanted Georgie Kalvos more than I'd ever wanted anything in my life, more than I'd believed it was possible to want anything. Watching with bulging eyes I saw her go to the sofa at the side of the office, pick up the square seat squabs and put them down on the top of the desk, only pausing for a second as I suddenly squealed. Georgie had pushed a massive finger straight up my bottom and I was clenched around it like a thanksgiving turkey being stuffed. When he scratched me inside with his fingernail I arched back so much I thought the chair was going to topple over. "Behave yourself, Mr Kalvos," Colette said mildly as if he was a naughty schoolboy. "I think you need to come away from there for a minute or two." As always, he did as she told him, and did it straight away, crawling out backwards from underneath the desk and standing up. At least it was a relief to have that finger removed. "That's the wonderful thing about men," Colette said to me. "As long as they can screw themselves stupid they're as easy to control as cart horses. Just remember, Yvonne, men are tool using animals and women are men using animals." There never was any doubt about Colette, she was a natural born brothel keeper right from the beginning. Going back to the sofa she collected the two loose cushions and stacked them at one end of the desk. "I suppose I'd better undress you as well, hadn't I?" She was speaking to Georgie again as if he was a little boy, smirking like an indulgent mother as she showed her skill at loosening belts again, this time the one around Georgie's pants. Then she glanced at me, expression and voice changing instantly as if she was talking to a slave. "Yvonne, kneel down here and unlace Georgie's shoes." I struggled to get out of the chair, walked unsteadily around the desk, then knelt down on the carpet in front of them. Somehow it seemed quite natural that I should be a slave, and that a slave should be stripped off ready to pleasure her master, her breasts hanging out underneath her empty bra cups and wearing nothing but stockings and shoes below it. Indeed, to be completely truthful, my greatest concern right then was a fear of pulling at the wrong ends of the shoelaces and turning them into unworkable knots so Georgie would get mad at me. But instead, the laces fell apart easily and the brown loafers - I can see them still - slipped off his feet. He took a step back from them as Colette walked around between us, lowering Georgie's pants. She knelt down in front of him as she did so, and Georgie rested his hands briefly on her shoulders as he lifted his legs out of the pants. It was like watching a pair of ballroom dancers going through a well-rehearsed routine. She stood up again, still facing him and walked backwards towards the desk. "Come on, Georgie boy, time to let us do the work." He moved with her, again as if they were dancing face to face, until I saw her fingers were holding onto the huge erection that jutted out in front of his loins. It looked like the ones I'd seen in the blue pictures the girls at school had passed around but I'd never imagined anything that size in real life, no matter how big the man. I couldn't believe a normal looking girl like Colette had been taking that monster into her. God help me! Georgie lay back on top of the desk, his head on the cushions and his cock standing up in its swollen pride. Colette put her hand on it again, gently teasing the outer skin up and down in short movements. "OK, you come and stand between his legs, Yvonne." I did as she wanted, while Colette continued to play with Georgie as she smiled at me. "The Queen of England is married to a Greek - did you know that? I wonder if she does this for him. . . ". She leaned forward, her carefully pinned hair staying exactly in place, licked the head of his cock, then put her mouth over it and slowly bobbed her head up and down for a few seconds as Georgie groaned with pleasure. After that she stood upright again, smiling even more widely. "I hope you're watching closely, Yvonne, because this is what you're going to be doing every Thursday afternoon from now on." My throat was too constricted to say anything. All I could do was to nod my head in a kind of stupefied daze. "Take a hold of it then," Colette said. "It won't bite you - it may do a lot of other things to you, but it won't bite." I put my fingers where hers had been, astonished at the heat of the skin and the power of the blood pulsing through the swollen veins. It was as if all the force in Georgie's body had gathered together in this one limb with a temporary life of its own that demanded everybody else's attention. Tentatively, I tweaked the tiny amount of play in the tightly stretched skin as Colette had done. It was a surprise to me that he reacted in the same way as he had done to her, muttering with obvious pleasure. "Watch this," she said, and scratched between his thighs at the bottom of his two crinkled up testicles. Georgie gasped and twitched in what seemed like an involuntary reaction. "Works every time," Colette said smugly. "Practice it for a while." I did as she wanted, holding the cock with one hand and scratching underneath his balls as Georgie jerked up and down in response. He looked at me with eyes like a hungry spaniel begging for scraps and also at Colette as she swiftly took off her shirt. I thought sourly that it was something of a change for her to be taking off her own clothes instead of everybody else's. She pulled her bra straps off her shoulders and then tugged the wide pink cups down around her waist. Her breasts were not only bigger than mine but with large nipples for their size. Colette went to the other end of the desk and put her hands underneath the cushions, raising Georgie's head a few more inches. He laughed and reached up, taking the brown patches of her nipples fully into his hands, but still staring at me. "OK, Yvonne, bend over him and rub your tits around his cock." Colette sounded very breathless herself now, probably because of the way Georgie's fingers were mashing her breasts. I did as she wanted, astounded again by the heat and energy inside that jutting phallus symbol as it pressed up against me whilst I slithered around on top of it. "Lick his stomach, Yvonne. Lick it." His skin down in front of me was lighter colored than his face, what little of it I could see under what seemed like an incredible amount of body hair. Nobody had ever told me that men had fur all over them. There were bars of bright light from the setting sun coming through the blinds and lying across his body in golden stripes, one of them centered exactly over Georgie's belly button. Still rubbing myself against his cock, I leaned forward and started licking where the sunlight had fallen, as if I was worshipping nature itself by poking my tongue into that furry little depression. It didn't seem too much of a fanciful thought, not as I was, spreadeagled out on top of a body of awesome strength that was so obviously ready to start rutting like a stag in season. I heard Colette gasp with pain and knew why, having experienced the power of Georgie's grip myself. "Alright, Yvonne, down on your knees." I knew their eyes were totally fixed on me as I lowered myself down between Georgie's muscular thighs, holding his shaft tightly with my right hand. When I flicked the loose skin gain I saw him squeeze Colette's boobs so hard her white flesh bulged out between his fingers as if it were new mixed dough. She flicked her head back with her mouth hanging open, somewhere between pain and ecstasy. When his grip eased she spoke to me. "You've never sucked a man's cock before?" There didn't seem any point in being shy about anything now. "No, I haven't," I answered her, though my voice was hardly more than a croak. She gasped again at Georgie's handling, then looked down at him. "You're going to be the first man she ever does this for, Georgie. You're going to be the first one she ever gives a blow job, the first man who ever fucks her. You'll pay for that?" Georgie barked back something in Greek, then said: "Yes - yes, everything I said!" "OK then. Yvonne, take off your bra first." I let the bra fall to the carpet. Georgie's eyes were like a kid's at Christmas. On an impulse, I cupped my breasts in my hands and gently squeezed them so the taut tips were shown off. I felt I wanted to excite him and yet it was a surprise to see him respond by clutching at Colette so fiercely she yelped. "Careful, Georgie, damn you. Yvonne, lean forward, keep your face up. Lick him first, at the top of his cock, then up and down the back of it, and then his balls - do it slowly, slowly." She was still holding Georgie's head up so he could watch me as I obeyed the orders. Suddenly I found the courage to look back directly into his eyes as I moved closer and began my novice attempt at the ritual of female submission. As the tip of my tongue touched the tip of his erection he snorted as a stallion would and those dominating eyes flickered like loose light globes. Suddenly I realized that this wasn't something nasty or obscene, it was fun. Firstly, I was giving him back the pleasure he'd given me, and, even more satisfying, as I was doing it he kept on mangling Colette's tits and making her gasp with pain. About time that fat arrogant bitch got a taste of her own medicine, I thought. It was too good to last though. He finally let her go and she pulled herself up onto the desk and on top of him on her hands and knees. All Georgie had to do was to wait until she could position her pussy over his mouth and he was pulling her panties apart again to lick her. Colette immediately returned the compliment by bending forward towards me. Hooked "I'll lick his cock, you lick his balls." I was almost reluctant to give Georgie up to her but I did so, and moved my tongue down to wet the tightly crinkled sacs of flesh at the bottom of his shaft. Georgie was making muffled sounds of delight. I wondered if he might come now and whether he would think he'd got his money's worth if he did. It seemed to me that he was likely to come in Colette's mouth and that would be it for the day, with him being such an old guy and all. If I'd known anything at all about Georgie's powers of recuperation I'd have known better. But what happened instead was that he suddenly gave Colette a tremendously loud double slap on the cheeks of her ass. She lifted herself up and lifted her head from his cock, giving the shiny wet tip a final rub with her thumb. "It's all yours now, Yvonne. It's fucking time and you're the one that's got to find a home for this." "Oh God! What's it like, Colette - please?" She giggled: "Nothing to worry about, honey - the only thing you'll notice afterwards is that you've started walking like a cowboy!" Georgie must have heard what she said, even with her thighs clamped over his ears, because he laughed loudly. Then Colette was quickly sliding off the desk on one side and Georgie was standing up in front of me. He grabbed my breasts, each one almost covered by a huge hand and waltzed us around in a second, so I was pressed against the desk. Then he lifted me by my tits as I yelled out and clung to his forearms, before going backwards and down, the edge of the desk behind my knees and the leather seat squabs underneath me. Georgie squatted down, grabbed my ankles and lifted them up above his shoulders, looking down at me with a odd, almost solemn look on his face as Colette pushed a cushion under my head. She, of course, was still laughing. "We'll make you comfortable, Yvonne, and then the doctor can start his de-virginizing operation." The other cushion she pushed underneath my butt and George stepped closer, his hands slipping down to my knees as I saw my shoes raised up towards the ceiling until he laces were hanging down. "One minute, Georgie, one minute, and then you can fuck her stupid . . ." She went off to where a briefcase was in the corner, opened the lid and came rushing back with a roll of money. Georgie lowered my legs onto his shoulders and started pushing the bills into the tops of my nylons as I'd seen him do to Colette. "This is a union job, Yvonne," Colette said. "Nobody does anything for the boss here for free." She reached down between us. "Yvonne, I'd like to introduce you to Georgie's prick, and Georgie, say hallo to Yvonne's cunt." I could feel the head of that huge cock pushing past my lips as she guided him into me. "Any last words as a virgin, honey?" "God yes, make him fuck me, please," I begged her. And Georgie did. Inch by inch, with my pussy muscles clamping tight around his erection as I locked my fingers around his neck. He head came down, his lips on mine, puffs of garlic and mint flavored air were blowing into my nose once more, then the same tongue which had been licking my cunt was now deep inside my mouth. My tongue against his, his body driving against mine, that huge cock reaming into me and Colette whispering into our ears. "Fuck her, George, fuck her until she screams. Fuck the silly little bitch stupid!" George did exactly that, until I had to turn my head away and let out the cries within me as I climaxed in a crescendo of pain and ecstasy, ready to die myself and just as ready to die for this man who'd made me feel more alive than I'd ever done before. A second - an eternity - later, our tongues were writhing against each other as his hot seed pumped into my womb. When he finally got off me his sweat soaked shirt peeled away from my breasts and stomach like a snake's skin as I gulped for air. Later still I was kneeling on the floor in front of the chair, licking off my own blood and love juice from George's cock. Colette showed me what to do to bring it to life with my mouth, an impatience inside my newly conquered cunt to be used again matching George's resurgent manhood. But this time it was different treatment, bent over the desk with Colette holding my ears as George rubbed grease up my anus with a finger which seemed twice as big as it had the first time, and the fingernail twice as sharp. "What are you doing . . .?" "He's going to put his cock up your ass," Colette chuckled. "No!" George's hands grabbed my buttocks as if they were plundered treasure - which I suppose they were - and held them firmly captive as he made his grand entrance into me from behind. I couldn't believe he was doing this to me, I couldn't believe Colette was helping him by holding as firmly to my ears as Georgie was to my ass. But it was true, and my eyes were watering more than enough to prove it. George pinned the tops of my legs against the edge of the desk with my sphincter ring being forced open: I made a last incoherent plea for mercy, Colette laughed and George rammed into me as if I was a novice bullfighter suddenly hit by a ton of testosterone charged meat. Not only was I pushed forward, so was the desk, so was Colette, until the roller chair she was sitting in was against the wall. Not that I cared because I was sure I was going to die on the spot. I felt like an hen trying to lay an ostrich egg, I felt like a victim of Vlad the impaler, and Colette had to force my face down onto one of the cushions on top of the desk to stifle my screams and protests. "For God's sake, shut up, Yvonne. You sound like Donald Duck getting a flying fuck." Yeah, from Dumbo, the flying elephant. But all I could think of was what she'd said before, about walking like a cowboy. Walking wasn't going to be my problem from now on but sitting down surely would be. Then George put his hands underneath me to finger my tingling cunt and I was slamming my forearms on top of the desk like a surrendering wrestler as the Greek became my partner again in another orgiastic blow up. I fell off the desk and lay in a tangle of arms and legs with my man, both of us as weak as kittens. I wouldn't have cared if I'd been dragged out into the middle of the town and left in the old colonial stocks the way I was, stark naked and still hot from my sins. In fact it was a fate which would have been a lot easier to live with than what Colette was planning to blackmail me into doing. And I'd never even heard yet about the Blessing of the Fleet and what the special treat was that Georgie was planning to give his skippers. Or - to be more precise - whom the treat was and how she was going to find herself in a glass fish tank wearing nothing but a detachable fish tail. THE END Hooked Leah had captured his heart. Totally and completely. Each of them had acknowledged to the other one that it had never been better. The way she looked at him when they got together still made his insides flip-flop. She fed his sexual fantasies. He loved the way she opened up and received him; the way she responded in bed; how she talked while they were engaged in intercourse. She loved his touch. His lovemaking was long, slow, and deep - plus, he loved to use his mouth on her pubic area. He was hooked on her, and they both knew it. Leah came to like the spanking games that he bashfully suggested early on. She spanked harder than he expected, and her response was that if she was going to spank, by golly, she would spank. He accepted that, because the sex afterward was so satisfying. When she paddled him, it was with a ping-pong paddle. She always gave in multiples of ten swats. She used a leather belt for strapping him, and gave several sets of hard strokes while he gritted his teeth and choked out exclamations of pain. This time, she had a surprise for him. She had cast off her panties and hiked up her skirt, and he gave her pleasure with his mouth. After her orgasm, when he was about to get undressed, she told him something that caused him to startle, and he asked her, "What?!" "You heard me," she replied. "First I'm going to whip you with a switch. Then you can fuck me. It's going to be that way from now on." Then, with one hand on her hip, she pointed to the back yard and directed, "Go out there and bring back a good switch." A flurry of thoughts raced through his mind as he went out to the willow tree. 'Did she really mean that I'll get spanked EVERY TIME before sex? Even if we have sex ten times in a week, does that mean I'll get ten spankings? What If it's too much? What if I'm too sore for a spanking? And she spanks so hard, how am I going to deal with that?' With trembling hands, he cut a willow switch. Then he brought it in to her. She had taken off her skirt, and was clad only in a tight T-shirt, white socks, and sandals. In spite of his trepidation, he could not keep from being aroused at the sight of her. "Clothes off, my love," she directed in a sweet voice. He shed his clothes. She led him to the bedroom and directed him to lie face down. "Keep your hands in front of you," she admonished, "and don't wiggle TOO much," she added with a giggle. He steeled himself for what was to come, since he had never experienced the switch before. "I'll only give you ten with the switch this time," she told him. "Unless you wiggle too much, and then I'll just have to give you more. Here goes..." Leah put her usual energy into administering the switching. The first stroke briskly swiped across both sides of his buttocks and produced an immediate crimson welt. "AAAAAAAAAH!" he shouted, and involuntarily squirmed. Scarcely a second later, Leah delivered the next stroke. "AHHHHH! OH GOD! LEAH..." Whipppp! "OWWW! OW! OWWWWW!" Whippp! "AAAUGHMMMF! LEAH, NO!" Whippp! "AHHHH! OH GOD, LEAH! NOOOO!" "Just five more to go, honey," she said. "And then you can fuck me!" She placed her free hand firmly on the small of his back to keep him in place while she continued. He wondered if it was going to be worth it, after all. The biting pain of the switch burst into his consciousness like an explosion each time Leah swiped it across his naked bottom. He kicked his legs, shouted, and writhed. "You didn't do too badly," she stated as she put the switch on the bed. "Next time I'd like you not to squirm so much." Leah was seeting with desire after giving the switching. Her pussy profusely lubricated as she gazed upon the red streaks the switch left on her boyfriend's buttocks. With the switch strategically on the bed in plain view, she lay next to him and over the next several minutes coaxed his member to a hard and erect state. He noticed that she was particularly responsive during intercourse. A few days later he tested Leah by attempting to have sex with her. She interrupted his overtures (after getting him excitedly aroused) and told him he'd have to go cut a switch if he wanted to fuck her. Reluctantly, he complied, and went through a ten-stroke energetic switching, with much the same reaction as from the first one. She decided to give him three extra swipes for excessive squirming. Then, like the seductress that she was becoming, she got him erect, and drained him dry. Over the next several weeks, he tested her resolve by refusing to cut a switch in a few cases, only to be turned down for the night. On more than one occasion he gave in and went out to the willow tree late at night with a flashlight and cut a switch so that he could have relief from his arousal. He had to have her, no matter that his bare buttocks would be striated with welts before he got relief. Leah's reaction was intoxicating when they were engaged in lovemaking - her open-mouthed moans, the phrases she used, her creaminess - all of those ensured that he endured her willow switch. For her part, Leah consistently made sure that the used switch was in plain view on the bed. A few weeks into the adventure, she bought a hard, firm cushion that he lay on while receiving the switch. Doing so presented his buttocks all the more enticingly for her. She extended the switchings, giving fifteen strokes for several episodes, then twenty, and then twenty five. She played sexual games during the switchings. When she felt like doing so, after every five strokes she got him erect and teased him mercilessly. She took him in her mouth, stroked his member with her hands, told him how she was anxious for him to pump her full of cum, and so on. After a few months he could not keep from developing an erection from seeing a willow tree, or any tree that could produce a good switch. Often he sustained a firm erection during the switching, even as he furiously pumped his hips against the firm cushion as Leah switched with ever-increasing numbers of swipes. By doing so, he always earned extra, which Leah was delighted to provide. He began to cut several switches at a time, and soak them in salt water to extend their life by several days. He accepted the idea that receiving a switching was the avenue to intense pleasure. Leah's dream came true one day. She brought him to an erect state and teased him mercilessly before his switching. He kicked and pumped wildly as she delivered the strokes, which increased Leah's arousal. She reacted by interspersing the switch strokes with comments. She told him that she couldn't wait to feel his hardness inside her, that she wanted him to fill her with his cum, that she was itching to be fucked savagely. She was on the second switch, having worn out the first one. As that session was well underway, he pumped his hips more vigorously, until he ejaculated. "Ahhh! Ahhhhh! Ohhhh-ohhhhh! Mmmmmmf!," he exclaimed as he writhed and spurted, and his load shot forth from him. Leah kept switching, as he was converting the pain to direct pleasure during his ejaculation. Only when he stopped squirming did she cease her relentless administering of the switch, and placed it on the bed, as usual. Leah had been profusely lubricating, and she had him pleasure her with his mouth. She climaxed almost immediately, and again a few minutes later. Then she nursed him to an aroused state, and enjoyed a lengthy session of intercourse as his hardness plowed and pumped her sloppily wet vagina. After he released inside Leah, they drifted to sleep for a couple of hours. Because of the severity of the switching, Leah let him inside her the following day without the usual prerequisite whipping. The next weekend, they repeated the performance. Leah switched, and switched, and switched, until he freely spurted forth, after which he serviced her with his mouth, followed by prolonged intercourse. Yes, he was hooked. Hooked Once, long ago, banks had more humans in them than computers. And a bank clerk who put a foot wrong in a dim corridor could get herself all tangled up with a very important customer. ------------------------------------------------ There's a financial newspaper on my desk and it says that Georgie Kalvos is dead. I'm half wishing he's doing a stint in hell and half hoping he's got plenty of good looking women down there to keep him company -- yes, and an occasional bottle of ouzo as well. It's been many years since I last saw him and if I'm going to remember him I'll remember him as he was. A middle aged man with the smile of a boy, the build of a gorilla, the manners of a courtier and the morals of a shark. Talking of sharks, I wonder if Colette the big time Madam is remembering Georgie and the first girl who ever turned a trick for her? For a long time I resented Colette and Georgie because they made a fool out of me. Yet if Colette was here now I'd gladly share a toast with her to our Greek lover's memory. Colette runs a brothel and I run a bank, and still I think that Georgie was one of the few real man that either one of us has ever known. Slowly, I rub my palms over my desk, thinking back to that other manager's office, that other desk, the one that creaked underneath my weight as the bars of sunlight leaking through the blinds fell onto the dollar bills jammed into the tops of my bank-uniform nylons. I remember the roughness of Georgie's hands between my opened thighs and Colette's excited voice jeering at me: "Hey, Yvonne, I think he wants to make a deposit in you!" It was when I'd first joined the bank, as a teenage junior teller. It was a time when all the world loved the Beatles, when computers were still out of sight and out of mind, and when I was terribly excited about living away from home for the first time. Not that the branch I'd started in was located anywhere at all exciting. Just a small fishing town where the fresh sea breeze was often tainted with the smell of drying nets and diesel fumes from the trawlers. The bank had arranged accommodation in the local YWCA, and it was Colette who showed me around it for the first time. She was a plump, cheerful girl with an outgoing personality who had the room next to mine and also worked at the bank. In fact the bank was such a small one that Colette and I were the sole full time staff, plus the manager. The only other employee was a local married woman who came in during the mornings to help with the book work. Though everything seemed fine at first I soon had an vague impression that Colette had something on her mind that she wanted to talk about. One afternoon she invited me into her room to share some beer she'd smuggled in and to have a little chat. It turned out to be a little chat with some big surprises in it. "Listen, Yvonne, I've got a private arrangement at the bank. The thing is, I need your help to keep it going. The girl who had your job before was happy to help out and I'm hoping you'll do the same." My first reaction was a horrible fear that I was being invited to help cook the books. "God, no," Colette had answered, laughing. "No, it's nothing like that at all. It's to do with Georgie Kalvos." As new as I was to the area I already knew something about Georgie, a classic immigrant success story. He'd arrived in town as a teenager with only the clothes on his back and hardly able to speak a word of English. A lot of people thought that originally he'd jumped ship. If so, it had been the first of many smart moves: now he owned four fishing boats, a processing plant and even the trucks that took his catch off to the markets had his name on their sides. But what he and Colette could have in common I couldn't imagine. So I asked her. "Well . . ." Colette seemed rather coy. "Before I go back to the city I'd like to make as much spare cash as I can. And what Georgie wants is some fun on the side. He's certainly got the money to pay for it. The problem is that this is a small town and his wife is a Greek as well. You know how jealous these foreign wives can be about every little thing." I hardly knew anything at all about marriage or marriages, whether foreign or domestic. But I just nodded. "So, we've got this arrangement. Every Thursday afternoon our boss goes off to the weekly managers' meeting upstate. Which just leaves me and the other teller in the branch. Which also means that from now on you'll be the other teller, right?" Yes, I said, I supposed so. Of course this was a small town back in an era when people went on holiday without bothering to lock their doors and bank robberies only happened in Westerns. "So what?" I asked. "So on Thursday afternoons Georgie comes in to collect the payroll for his workers." "What about it?" Colette sighed in frustration and looking back I can't blame her. I must have led quite a sheltered life. "Yvonne, what I'm trying to tell you is that when he arrives I take him into the manager's office to get the money out of the safe. He'll arrive just before closing time and we'll be in there for about an hour. So I'd be really grateful if you'd cash up and keep look-out for us until I let him out of the back door. And please don't come knocking on the office door unless you have to." I nearly dropped my glass in surprise when I finally understood what she was talking about: "In the bank! You're doing it with a customer in the bank!" "I told you, he has to be very careful about his wife not finding out. So going to the bank for the payroll is a perfect alibi. Who's ever going to suspect that anything would be going on there?" "But, Colette, why do you do it?" "For money, that's why. He leaves me a hundred dollar tip from the wages afterwards." I was astonished all over again. In those days fifty dollars was a good wage for a week's work. For a woman, anyway. "Look, all I need is for you not to tell anyone. It's worth ten bucks for you to cover for me. The important thing is that you keep an eye open for the boss coming back early from the meeting and maybe dropping into the bank on his way home. He never has done yet but it might happen sometime. If it does just ring the office bell under the counter and then keep him talking as long as you can. It doesn't have to be all that long because I always keep most of my clothes on -- all except the really important bits." I recall how she'd giggled in amusement at her own bravado. I'd thought she was a silly little girl who was one day going to miserably sad about how she'd sacrificed her virtue for a few dollars. Yes, well, the world was different then, or at least a lot of us had been brought up to think it was. Anyway if anybody wants to look for a moral in all this, Colette is now worth millions while I'm still looking after other peoples' money. At the time though I was as stuck up and snotty as only a young fool can be. I'd said that I didn't want her dollars and whatever she did with Mr Kalvos was her business and nothing to do with me. "Well, suit yourself," Colette had answered cheerfully. "Susie, the last girl, she had a different ideas altogether. I'd better not tell you about what the pair of us got up to though, or you'll be really shocked." And this was the same girl I'd seen carrying the collection plate around in church on Sunday! "But you won't tell on me?" "No, I won't say anything -- but, Colette, isn't it -- well, awful? You know, doing it with an old man? An older man, anyway." That had amused her a lot: "Yvonne, Georgie is a wonderful lover. If you ever find a man half as good you'll be lucky. Anyway, always remember, the older the man is the more likely he is to be telling you the truth about his vasectomy." It was a conversation which made me think I still had a lot to learn about life. It was also a long time before I got to sleep that night -- especially as it was a Wednesday night. You could say I was gripped by a lot of conflicting emotions. But for all my brave words it was my curiosity which was most stirred. I'd always thought sex for normal women was all to do with marriage and white gowns and honeymoons and lifelong romance -- not something to be bought and sold in a bank office like any other commodity. Or was it all some huge joke that Colette was playing on me? I finally decided it had to be a joke, and that my co-worker must have a very strange sense of humor. Georgie Kalvos arrived precisely when Colette said he would though, and we both called him Mr Kalvos respectfully; after all, he was the bank's biggest customer. And he behaved like it, with not the slightest hint that he was there for anything but business reasons. On the other hand, things happened exactly as Colette had predicted. She and Georgie went off to the manager's office together and after I'd locked the front doors and emptied the cash registers they were still in there. Almost a quarter of an hour by then. Something more than checking the payroll had to be going on, but what? Where they really having sex together, or was Colette teaching him double entry book keeping or something? It was driving me crazy, not knowing. There was a way to find out though -- just to slip out very quietly into the corridor and listen for a few seconds. Whatever was going on in the office, I should get a clue to it from some very discreet eavesdropping. I'd like to say I had to struggle with my conscience before I decided to do it, but the truth is that my conscience was as curious as the rest of me. When I tiptoed out into the gloomy corridor I was totally surprised to find that the manager's office door was half opened. What was more, I could hear Colette muttering softly and giggling. Like a cat being drawn towards cat mint I simply couldn't help taking a few more steps down the corridor. And what I finally saw made me gasp and then clasp my hands to my mouth to belatedly stifle the sound. For Colette was bent over the desk, her back to the door. She was still wearing the white crisp blouse which, with a dark skirt, was the bank's summer uniform. But she certainly wasn't wearing her skirt, just a wispy pair of black panties, a black suspender belt and dark stockings. It was a sight which made my heart jump, my mouth go dry and set my legs trembling. For some reason I had a sudden mental picture of Colette standing in her booth and calmly serving the customers the way she was now, perfectly normal from the waist up and practically naked below. In fact I'd never before seen panties like the ones she was wearing, of the thinnest silk and briefest cut imaginable, panties which looked as if they would float like thistle seed if somebody threw them into the air. In fact that seemed to be exactly their raison d'etre, to be dragged off their wearer and tossed carelessly aside by some lust crazed male. Even at the time I couldn't help wondering where the shop was that she'd bought them from. George appeared in the doorway, also with his back to me. In his hand were what looked like a wad of bills. I saw him take one of them in his other hand, fold it and slip it into one of Colette's stocking tops. Then the same hand lifted up and gently caressed the gusset of her panties. Colette giggled again, stirred around on the desk top and hissed approvingly. Her well rounded buttocks lifted up higher in an obvious invitation to Georgie's fingers, which probed a line of blonde curls that had suddenly appeared in the panties. I found myself blushing at the sight. For a second or so I actually thought her underwear had split open, until I realized that they had an open gusset, that the panties were actually designed that way, to reveal much more than they hid. At least my curiosity was satisfied now about whether Georgie and Colette were indeed having an affair. What also amazed me was that they hadn't even bothered to close the door properly. Still, they certainly hadn't seen me and all I had to do was to creep away softly from this embarrassing situation. And it was then, when I tried to back away, that I found out how big a mistake I'd made. Because the hem of my skirt tugged around my legs when I tried to step back, just as a bell tinkled inside the office. I gasped in horror and tried to flee but my dammed skirt seemed to be stuck in mid-air, and then I heard the sound of tearing cloth as the bell kept on tinkling. Georgie had already swung around towards the doorway. Panic stricken by then, I bent over and brushed my hands over the places where the skirt seemed to be held, then yelped as something small but viciously sharp snagged one of my fingers. The office door flew open, casting more light into the corridor and finally letting me see what was happening. On each white painted wall were tiny pieces of clear sticky tape, opposite to each other and about two feet above the carpet. Stretched between them was a length of very fine black fishing line which had been invisible in the dimly lit corridor. And hanging from every inch of the line were tiny black painted fish hooks with four barbs sticking out of each of them, barbs with extremely sharp points. It was these which had gotten caught up in my skirt. In total panic I made one last desperate attempt to pull free of the hooks and achieved nothing but making one or two more rips just above the hemline. The bell tinkled again as if an impatient customer was waiting and Georgie's laughter echoed it. He bent down and picked up another length of fishing line which was obviously attached to the one with the hooks on. The other end was just as obviously attached to the bell in the office. Standing there with my mouth hanging open I stared at the man's grinning face as I finally understood how I had stumbled into a trap, a simple but very effective one which had snared me as easily as a rabbit in a noose. Not only trapped, but warning Georgie and Colette that I was standing out in the corridor! What a fool I'd been! Before I could even think of anything to say Georgie walked towards me, grabbed my wrists, pulled me towards him and kissed me full on the lips. A mingled and overpowering aroma of spearmint mouthwash and garlic went into my nose and deep down into my lungs as I made a futile attempt to push him away. It was like trying to shove a wall over. He simply lifted my wrists up over my shoulders without the slightest effort, as though he were dangling a rag doll. "Beautiful girl, Yvonne. I like you so much," he said happily. Behind him Colette was standing in the doorway, apparently not embarrassed at all about the way she was dressed or what I'd seen them doing. "I thought you'd come and have a look. That's great, now you can see as much as you like." "No, I don't want to see anything," I protested, still squirming ineffectually in Georgie's iron grip. "Then how come we've caught you snooping on us? That wasn't what I asked you to do, that was something you decided to do yourself. Keep her there, Georgie." Colette walked towards me, around me, so she was facing George, then quite calmly started undoing my belt! "What do you think you're doing!" I protested. Colette answered me in a totally unsympathetic way: "Sorry, but I guess you've landed yourself right in it now, Yvonne. Don't panic though, nobody is going to hurt you." My muscles tensed, ready to fight or flee. But how could I do either with Georgie holding my arms and my toes hardly touching the ground? "As for what we're doing, we're protecting ourselves, Yvonne." Colette continued briskly. "Look, this is a pretty dangerous game Georgie and I are playing. If his wife were to find out about this we'd have real problems. Personally, I want to start my own business soon and I'll probably need a bank loan to get it off the ground. I wouldn't have much chance of getting one if I was remembered as the girl who got fired from a bank herself for getting screwed by the customers. So we have to be careful." I made one more attempt to wriggle free from Georgie and then instantly stopped as Colette unhooked the hook and eye at the skirt's waist. One more such movement and it was clear that my skirt was going to slip down. "Now, if you hadn't come into the corridor we wouldn't have bothered about you. After all you couldn't have seen anything so you couldn't have said for certain that anything was really going on. But you did come near the office, you did see what was happening. It's a problem for us then, to make sure you don't tell anybody else." "You left the god dammed door open, didn't you? I wouldn't have seen anything but for that!" Colette laughed at my anger, reached out and toyed with my zipper tab. "No you wouldn't have seen anything, so you would have crept up closer to the door and listened instead, and you would have been just as certain about what was going on from the noises we'd have been making. We left the door open so that if the bell was rung we could be out in the corridor before you ran away. Truth to tell, I didn't think the fishhooks would work as well as they did. They were Georgie's idea when we were planning this." "What do you mean, planning it?" "Well, it wouldn't have been much of a plan if you'd stayed out front as you were supposed to. There wouldn't have been any problem either about you telling tales on us." I hastily shook my head in rebuttal: "There isn't any problem. I won't tell anyone, I promise." "Yeah, Yvonne maybe, but Georgie and I would be much surer of that if you had as much to lose as we do." She jerked the zipper down and tweaked the pleats on the skirt. Even at that moment I was surprised about how Georgie was just standing there, letting Colette do all the talking. I had already begun to realize how strong a personality she had. Now I had a demonstration of how ruthless she was as well as my skirt dropped down around my feet. Georgie laughed and said something in Greek which sounded as if he was pleased. His head was bent forward as he looked down at my legs. "Oh, he likes you alright. He's been hoping like hell you'd come along, haven't you, Georgie?" I tried to speak calmly: "Please, Colette, what is it you want me to do?" She gave a little half smile, put her hands on my hips, lifted them underneath my shirt, her fingertips scratched at my skin, and then went down into the tops of my panties. "Colette, no!" "Ten . . nine . . eight . . seven . . and still coming down!" Colette mocked me as she pulled my underwear down around my legs. Georgie whooped with glee at what she was doing. Because I was being held up on my toes the bottom of my shirt had been lifted almost to my waist and between the shirt and my stocking tops I was now totally naked. It was all a nightmare, impossible, that I could be displayed like this in front of a leering man. "Colette, you're a slut!" I cursed her. "And you're a miserable fucking bitch, Yvonne. For God's sake put a smile on your face and enjoy the party. And don't worry, you can come as you are." She laughed at the expression on my face, knelt down and finished slipping the panties down to ankle height: "Off the deck, please, Georgie." "OK", Georgie responded, lifting me completely off the floor for the second it took Colette to slip the waistband over my uniform lace-up shoes. She knelt back and jerked the fishing line free of the wall, then stood up holding my skirt and panties. "So that's it, Georgie. You can let her go now." My heels fell back onto the carpet with a perceptible jolt as he released me: "You are OK, Yvonne?" Georgie asked me, his weathered face split open in a huge smile. I'd actually started to massage my wrists before I realized how my shirt was still rucked up around my middle and hastily tugged it down. Even with my shirt held down at full stretch and bending forward I was barely decent. Hooked Colette stepped past and looked scornful: "You live in perpetual fear of giving any man any pleasure, don't you, Yvonne?" "Give me my clothes back." "Hmmm . . . maybe your skirt, later. Maybe . . . but not these." She smiled and held up my panties, turning over the waistband and looking at them closely. "When you were unpacking in your room I noticed this neat habit you have of inking your name on all your clothing. It's a hangover from school camp you've got to abandon, Yvonne. The last thing a smart young lady should is to put her name in indian ink on her undies. You never know where they may turn up. Like these, for example." "What do you mean?" "I mean that I'm going to put these and your skirt away in the safe and keep them locked up until Georgie and I are finished. Afterwards, I'll give you your skirt back but not these little charmers. Right at the back of the safe are a pile of mortgage files that usually only get taken out once every six months. So I'm going to tuck these away in those files. Which will make it an interesting situation, because there's only two keys to the safe, the manager's and mine. If you keep quiet about Georgie and me I'll take these out before the mortgages get checked. On the other hand, if rumors should start up in the town about wild goings on in the bank, then old pumpkin-head might get a tip-off to take a close look inside his safe. Maybe he'll get a notion you somehow managed to plant your panties inside it because you've got an uncontrollable passion for him." Colette laughed at the idea, and no wonder. The manager was so fat he could hardly waddle and his head did look uncannily like a Halloween mask. Not that it stopped him making fresh remarks to all the girls, which was about the only fresh thing about him, as he had a body odor problem like a garbage truck. As for the idea of him finding my underwear tucked away in the back of the office safe -- well, the ensuing interview was just unimaginable! "Colette --you can't do that! Please!" Her response was to bend down in front of the safe and to put away not only my skirt but hers as well, folding them up neatly as she did so. With Georgie standing beside her there was no way I could even try to stop her. Then she pulled out a couple of the files from the back of the safe and made a big thing of blowing dust off the covers. "If you think about things for a few minutes, Yvonne, I guess you'll soon realize there's a way I don't have to do this. After all, it would be a pity for all of us if pumpkin-head were to find these accidentally through spring cleaning his safe or something." She pushed the panties inside one of the covers and replaced the files. It seemed clear enough, even in my naivete, what she was suggesting. I didn't want to say it out openly though, that if I did for Georgie what she was clearly prepared to do for him, then I would be just as implicated as she was. And if I was as guilty as she was there'd be no need for any blackmailing items left in the safe because there was no way I would dare talk about any of this. Georgie grinned at me as Colette relocked the safe and stood up, hanging the key back around her neck on a thin silver chain. As soon as she was upright he grunted impatiently, caught her by the scruff of her neck and pushed her back towards the desk. Colette giggled and leaned forward over the side, in the same position as when I'd first seen her. Georgie went down on his knees, hooked his fingers into the split gusset of her panties, pulled them apart and then buried his face into her bottom like a bear snuffling for honey. Colette laughed and raised her buttocks again to give him room to work. She looked to her side, towards me, with a sardonic smile. "Haven't you run away, yet, Yvonne?" "No," I replied, my mouth incredibly dry. "No, I haven't run away. How far could I run, dressed like this?" Colette giggled, partly at what I was saying and partly because of what Georgie's tongue was doing to her. "Why don't you make yourself useful, then? Go to the other side of the desk, where Georgie can see you, and take off your shirt for him. Before he gets angry and rips it off you." It seemed to take ages before my feet began moving. Even longer before I was standing in front of Colette's head with Georgie's keen eyes looking up at me like a feeding sea eagle's from over her prone back. My own eye was caught by a length of thin black thread which went from underneath the desk to the top handle of the filing cabinet, a small shiny bell like a Christmas tree decoration hanging from it. Obviously it was the bell I'd heard giving the alarm when I'd been caught. Once again I felt angry and astonished at how easily I'd fallen into the trap which had been laid for me. But I'd only fallen into it because I'd fallen into temptation and now I must do my penance. Standing behind the manager's padded chair, I was just about decently shielded as I began to unbutton the front of my shirt. Colette was glancing up frequently and still gasping in delight at Georgie's handiwork -- tongue work -- while my trembling fingers fumbled at the buttons. When I slipped the shirt off my arms and put it down across the top of the chair, I was left with only my bra and jewelry above my waist, and only my stockings and suspenders on behind the chair. "Very nice girl, Yvonne. You are very beautiful." I looked up from my discarded shirt and saw that Georgie was leaning back on his haunches, the same big smile on his face. One of his hands was exploring Colette where his mouth has just been, though it seemed to be something he was less interested in doing than in looking at me. "Turn that chair around and sit on it," Colette demanded. Wondering what she had in mind I did as she wanted, turning the manager's swivel chair around and sitting in it with my back to her. I heard her moving and felt her behind me, just before the chair was rotated again. Colette had turned it, with Georgie still on the other side of the desk, standing now and grinning widely at me as I made a last futile effort to protect my modesty by putting my hands between my legs. Her sharp fingernails dug into my earlobes, painfully. "Hands on each side, honey, and knees wide apart. Here's where the fun really starts for you." I did as she told me, my fingernails pressing hard against the chair's leather padded arm rests. Georgie sank back down onto the carpet, behind the desk and out of sight, before appearing again as he crawled underneath it, his thick black hair moving up between my black stockings. I felt the tickling of his mustache's ends against my sensitive skin and gasped. Georgie laughed, pressed against me even closer and put his tongue against my bush of pubic hairs, dampening them. At the same moment he released a catch on the side of the chair which he seemed to be very familiar with and I slumped backwards. When the chair had settled into the new position I could see Colette looking down at me with interest, and Georgie's face peering up at me with even more interest. "It's like being in a dentist's chair, but without the pain, just lots of pleasure," Colette encouraged me. "All we need now is a couple more adjustments. Lift your legs up and put them on the desk." Georgie's hands seemed rough and strong as he put them behind my knees, on the soft hot skin underneath the nylon stockings. He helped me lift my legs up until I could rest the heels of my shoes on top of the desk, and I hoped to God I wasn't marking the polished wooden surface. Georgie seemed far more interested in the wet mark he'd made on me, blowing softly on the place. This couldn't be happening, not in the bank, not with a man's eyes only inches away from the most intimate part of my body, not with his breath fluttering against a dampness that was more and more my own involuntary reaction to that first touch of his tongue. It all seemed so much a lunatic's dream that it seemed quite normal for Colette to be pulling my bra straps off my shoulders. "OK, Georgie boy, I've kept my side of the deal. She's all yours." Again I felt the stiff hairs on Georgie's upper lip scratching me, again I felt the warmth and wetness of his tongue working against me, probing its target area with practiced skill. It was like having an electric eel swimming into me, an indescribable sensation. "Deal -- what deal?" I asked in what sounded like a half strangled voice. "Oh, Georgie always paid a nice fat bonus for the fun of fucking me and Susie together. As soon as he saw you he offered me the same deal again if I could get you to join in. And it looks as if he's going to have to pay up." "No - no. I won't . . ." Even as I was making the denial I was gripping the arm rests like an astronaut during blastoff and beginning to moan with pleasure. Colette's fingers curled around the shoulder straps, holding them out each side of me and horizontally, then jerking them left and right, again and again, shaking the cups and slowly but surely shucking my breasts out of them. "Colette!" I squealed in protest and then everything went loose, with the trapped flesh breaking free and falling out on one side and then the other. She laughed and Georgie leaned back and looked up at me, taking a long slow look which made me blush and lower my eyes in shame behind the empty cups resting on top of my exposed breasts. "Yvonne, you are very beautiful girl. But you need a man to make you a woman. When I fuck you I make you a very happy woman." His hands, those work roughened hands settled on my thighs, slid over the stocking tops, the thumbs touched my pussy and spread the lips apart as if he was opening an oyster before tasting the meat inside. "No! No!" Georgie leaned forward again, licking me much deeper and more thoroughly until I was wriggling around in the chair, the regular creaking noise from underneath it counter pointing my panting as I wondered how much more of this I could stand. Not only was that tongue driving me crazy, Colette had begun scratching at my tightening nipples very, very lightly with her nails. She chuckled as she saw my hands touch the top Georgie's head and stroke it. "Georgie, honey, I think I'd better get the altar ready so we can sacrifice a virgin who looks like she badly needs it!" Colette was absolutely right, of course, because eventually they got me into a state where I wanted Georgie Kalvos more than I'd ever wanted anything in my life, more than I'd believed it was possible to want anything. Watching with bulging eyes I saw her go to the sofa at the side of the office, pick up the square seat squabs and put them down on the top of the desk, only pausing for a second as I suddenly squealed. Georgie had pushed a massive finger straight up my bottom and I was clenched around it like a thanksgiving turkey being stuffed. When he scratched me inside with his fingernail I arched back so much I thought the chair was going to topple over. "Behave yourself, Mr Kalvos," Colette said mildly as if he was a naughty schoolboy. "I think you need to come away from there for a minute or two." As always, he did as she told him, crawling out backwards from underneath the desk and standing up. At least it was a relief to have that finger removed. "That's the wonderful thing about men," Colette said to me. "As long as they can screw themselves stupid they're as easy to control as cart horses. Just remember, Yvonne, men are tool using animals and women are men using animals." There never was any doubt about Colette, she was a natural born brothel keeper right from the beginning. Going back to the sofa she collected the two loose cushions and stacked them at one end of the desk. "I suppose I'd better undress you as well, hadn't I?" She was speaking to Georgie again as if he was a little boy, smirking like an indulgent mother as she showed her skill at loosening belts again, this time the one around Georgie's pants. Then she glanced at me, expression and voice changing instantly as if she was talking to a slave. "Yvonne, kneel down here and unlace Georgie's shoes." I struggled to get out of the chair, walked unsteadily around the desk, then knelt down on the carpet in front of them. Somehow it seemed quite natural that I should be a slave, and that a slave should be stripped off ready to pleasure her master, her breasts hanging out underneath her empty bra cups and wearing nothing but stockings and shoes below it. Indeed, to be completely truthful, my greatest concern right then was a fear of pulling at the wrong ends of the shoelaces and turning them into unworkable knots so Georgie would get mad at me. But instead, the laces fell apart easily and the brown loafers -- I can see them still -- slipped off his feet. He took a step back from them as Colette walked around between us, lowering Georgie's pants. She knelt down in front of him as she did so, and Georgie rested his hands briefly on her shoulders as he lifted his legs out of the pants. It was like watching a pair of ballroom dancers going through a well-rehearsed routine. She stood up again, still facing him and walked backwards towards the desk. "Come on, Georgie boy, time to let us do the work." He moved with her, again as if they were dancing face to face, until I saw her fingers were holding onto the huge erection that jutted out in front of his loins. It looked like the ones I'd seen in the dirty pictures the girls at school had passed around but I'd never imagined anything that size in real life, no matter how big the man. I couldn't believe a normal looking girl like Colette had been taking that monster into her. God help me! Georgie lay back on top of the desk, his head on the cushions and his cock standing up in its swollen pride. Colette put her hand on it again, gently teasing the outer skin up and down in short movements. "OK, you come and stand between his legs, Yvonne." I did as she wanted, while Colette continued to play with Georgie as she smiled at me. "The Queen of England is married to a Greek -- did you know that? I wonder if she does this for him . . . ". She leaned forward, her carefully pinned hair staying exactly in place, licked the tip of his cock, then put her mouth over it and slowly moved her head up and down for a few seconds as Georgie groaned with pleasure. After that she stood upright again, smiling even more widely. "I hope you're watching closely, Yvonne, because this is what you're going to be doing every Thursday afternoon from now on." My throat was too constricted to say anything. All I could do was to nod my head in a kind of stupefied daze. "Take a hold of it then," Colette said. "It won't bite you -- it may do a lot of other things to you, but it won't bite." I put my fingers where hers had been, astonished at the heat of the skin and the power of the blood pulsing through the swollen veins. It was as if all the force in Georgie's body had gathered together in this one limb with a temporary life of its own that demanded everybody else's attention. Tentatively, I tweaked the tiny amount of play in the tightly stretched skin as Colette had done. It was a surprise to me that he reacted in the same way as he had done to her, muttering with obvious pleasure. "Watch this," she said, and scratched between his thighs at the bottom of his two crinkled up testicles. Georgie gasped and twitched in what seemed like an involuntary reaction. "Works every time," Colette said smugly. "Practice it for a while." I did as she wanted, holding the cock with one hand and scratching underneath his balls as Georgie jerked up and down in response. He looked at me with eyes like a hungry spaniel begging for scraps and also at Colette as she swiftly took off her shirt. I thought sourly that it was something of a change for her to be taking off her own clothes instead of everybody else's. She pulled her bra straps off her shoulders and then tugged the wide pink cups down around her waist. Her breasts were not only bigger than mine but with large nipples for their size. Colette went to the other end of the desk and put her hands underneath the cushions, raising Georgie's head a few more inches. He laughed and reached up, taking the brown patches of each areola fully into his hands, but still staring at me. "OK, Yvonne, bend over him and rub your tits around his cock." Colette sounded very breathless herself now, probably because of the way Georgie's fingers were mashing her breasts. I did as she wanted, astounded again by the heat and energy inside that jutting phallus symbol as it pressed up against me whilst I slithered around on top of it. "Lick his stomach, Yvonne. Lick it." His skin down in front of me was lighter colored than his face, what little of it I could see under what seemed like an incredible amount of body hair. Nobody had ever told me that men had fur all over them. Some of them, anyway. There were bars of bright light from the setting sun coming through the blinds and lying across his body in golden stripes, one of them centered exactly over Georgie's belly button. Still rubbing myself against his cock, I leaned forward and started licking where the sunlight had fallen, as if I was worshipping nature itself by poking my tongue into that furry little depression. It didn't seem too much of a fanciful thought, not as I was, spreadeagled out on top of a body of awesome strength that was so obviously ready to start rutting like a stag in season. I heard Colette gasp with pain and knew why, having experienced the power of Georgie's grip myself. "Alright, Yvonne, down on your knees." Both pairs of were fixed on me as I lowered myself down between Georgie's muscular thighs, holding his shaft tightly with my right hand. When I flicked the loose skin again I saw him squeeze Colette's boobs so hard her white flesh bulged out between his fingers as if it were newly mixed dough. She flicked her head back with her mouth hanging open, somewhere between pain and ecstasy. When his grip eased she spoke to me. "You've never sucked a man's cock before?" There didn't seem any point in being shy about anything now. "No, I haven't," I answered her, though my voice was hardly more than a croak. She gasped again at Georgie's handling, then looked down at him. "You're going to be the first man she ever does this for, Georgie. You're going to be the first one she ever gives a blow job, the first man who ever fucks her. You'll pay for that?" Georgie barked back something in Greek, then said: "Yes -- yes, everything I said!" "OK then. Yvonne, take off your bra first." I let the bra fall to the carpet. Georgie's eyes were like a kid's at Christmas. On an impulse, I cupped my breasts in my hands and gently squeezed them so the taut tips were shown off. I felt I wanted to excite him and yet it was a surprise to see him respond by clutching at Colette so fiercely she yelped. "Careful, Georgie, damn you. Yvonne, lean forward, keep your face up. Lick him first, at the top of his cock, then up and down the back of it, and then his balls -- do it slowly, slowly." She was still holding Georgie's head up so he could watch me as I obeyed the orders. Suddenly I found the courage to look back directly into his eyes as I moved closer and began my novice attempt at the ritual of female submission. As the tip of my tongue touched the tip of his erection he snorted as a stallion would and those dominating eyes flickered like loose light globes. Suddenly I realized that this wasn't something nasty or obscene, it was fun. Firstly, I was giving him back the pleasure he'd given me, and, even more satisfying, as I was doing it he kept on mangling Colette's tits and making her gasp with pain. About time that fat arrogant bitch got a taste of her own medicine, I thought. Hooked It was too good to last though. He finally let her go and she pulled herself up onto the desk and on top of him on her hands and knees. All Georgie had to do was to wait until she could position her pussy over his mouth and he was pulling her panties apart again to lick her. Colette immediately returned the compliment by bending forward towards me. "I'll lick his cock, you lick his balls." I was almost reluctant to give Georgie up to her but I did so, and moved my tongue down to wet the tightly crinkled sacs of flesh at the bottom of his shaft. Georgie was making muffled sounds of delight. I wondered if he might come now and whether he would think he'd got his money's worth if he did. It seemed to me that he was likely to come in Colette's mouth and that would be it for the day, with him being such an old guy and all. If I'd known anything at all about Georgie's powers of recuperation I'd also have known better. But what happened instead was that he suddenly gave Colette a tremendously loud double slap on the cheeks of her ass. She lifted herself up and lifted her head from his cock, giving the shiny wet tip a final rub with her thumb. "It's all yours now, Yvonne. It's fucking time and you're the one that's got to find a home for this." "Oh God! What's it like, Colette -- please?" She giggled: "Nothing to worry about, honey -- the only thing you'll notice afterwards is that you've started walking like a cowboy!" Georgie must have heard what she said, even with her thighs clamped over his ears, because he laughed loudly. Then Colette was quickly sliding off the desk on one side and Georgie was standing up in front of me. He grabbed my breasts, each one almost covered by a huge hand and swung us around in a second, so I was pressed against the desk. Then he lifted me by my tits as I yelled out and clung to his forearms, before going backwards and down, the edge of the desk behind my knees and the leather seat squabs underneath me. Georgie squatted down, grabbed my ankles and lifted them up above his shoulders, looking down at me with a odd, almost solemn look on his face as Colette pushed a cushion under my head. She, of course, was still laughing. "We'll make you comfortable, Yvonne, and then the doctor can start his de-virginizing operation." The other cushion she pushed underneath my butt and George stepped closer, his hands slipping down to my knees as I saw my shoes raised up towards the ceiling until he laces were hanging down. "One minute, Georgie, one minute, and then you can fuck her stupid . . ." She went off to where a briefcase was in the corner, opened the lid and came rushing back with a roll of money. Georgie lowered my legs onto his shoulders and started pushing the bills into the tops of my nylons as I'd seen him do to Colette. "This is a union job, Yvonne," Colette said. "Nobody does anything for the boss here for free." She reached down between us. "Yvonne, I'd like to introduce you to Georgie's prick, and Georgie, say hallo to Yvonne's cunt." I could feel the head of that huge cock pushing past my lips as she guided him into me. "Any last words as a virgin, honey?" "God yes, make him fuck me, please," I begged her. And Georgie did. Inch by inch, with my cunt muscles clamping tight around his erection as I locked my fingers around his neck. He head came down, his lips on mine, puffs of garlic and mint flavored air were blowing into my nose once more, then the same tongue which had been licking my pussy was now deep inside my mouth. My tongue against his, his body driving against mine, that huge cock reaming into me and Colette whispering into our ears. "Fuck her, George, fuck her until she screams. Fuck the silly little bitch stupid!" George did exactly that, until I had to turn my head away and let out the cries within me as I climaxed in a crescendo of pain and ecstasy, ready to die myself and just as ready to die for this man who'd made me feel more alive than I'd ever done before. A second -- an eternity -- later, our tongues were writhing against each other as his hot seed pumped into my womb. When he finally got off me his sweat soaked shirt peeled away from my breasts and stomach like a snake's skin as I gulped for air. Later still I was kneeling on the floor in front of the chair, licking off my own love juice from George's cock. Colette showed me what to do to bring it to life with my mouth, an impatience inside my newly conquered cunt to be used again matching George's resurgent manhood. But this time it was different treatment, bent over the desk with Colette holding my ears as George rubbed grease up my anus with a finger which seemed twice as big as it had the first time, and the fingernail twice as sharp. "What are you doing . . .?" "He's going to put his cock up your ass," Colette chuckled. "No!" George's hands grabbed my buttocks as if they were plundered treasure and held them firmly captive as he made his grand entrance into me from behind. I couldn't believe he was doing this to me, I couldn't believe Colette was helping him by holding as firmly to my ears as Georgie was to my ass. But it was true, and my eyes were watering more than enough to prove it. George pinned the tops of my legs against the edge of the desk with my sphincter ring being forced open: I made a last incoherent plea for mercy, Colette laughed and George rammed into me as if I was a novice bullfighter suddenly hit by a ton of testosterone charged meat. Not only was I pushed forward, so was the desk, so was Colette, until the roller chair she was sitting in was against the wall. Not that I cared because I was sure I was going to die on the spot. I felt like an hen trying to lay an ostrich egg, I felt like a victim of Vlad the impaler, and Colette had to force my face down onto one of the cushions on top of the desk to stifle my screams and protests. "For God's sake, shut up, Yvonne. You sound like Donald Duck getting a flying fuck." Yeah, from Dumbo, the flying elephant. But all I could think of was what she'd said before, about walking like a cowboy. Walking wasn't going to be my problem from now on but sitting down surely would be. Then George put his hands underneath me to finger my tingling clitoris and I was slamming my forearms on top of the desk like a surrendering wrestler as the Greek became my partner again in another orgiastic blow up. I fell off the desk and lay in a tangle of arms and legs with my man, half laughing and half crying. I wouldn't have cared if I'd been dragged out into the middle of the town and left in the old colonial stocks the way I was, stark naked and still hot from my sins. In fact it was a fate which would have been a lot easier to live with than what Colette was planning to blackmail me into doing. And I'd never even heard yet about the Blessing of the Fleet and what the special treat was that Georgie was planning to give his skippers. Or -- to be more precise -- whom the treat was and how she was going to find herself hung up stark naked in a fishing net THE END Hooked He pinched her nipple and watched as the aureola puckered and remained for seconds before relaxing back into her breast. The nipple stayed erect and wanting. It reached for his fingers. Stretched for his mouth. He could feel the saliva building as he watched it. Another pinch and this time it wavered a little. Wiggled at him. The stiff nipple begged his mouth. The thought of how it would feel under his tongue, swirled in his mouth and teased between his lips taunted him. His fingers curved around her breast and hefted the weight. Tapped at the smooth skin. It felt so delicate and fit so perfectly in his palm. He could spend hours toying with her curve. Another pinch and this time the nipple pulled so taut that it looked like it would never go back and she moaned. A long, low, lustful moan he could feel through his groin. He felt his cock lurch against the fabric of his pants. Her shirt was unbuttoned, her breasts bared, her arms tied above her head. The nipples were hard and jutting at him. They made him think how it would feel as they rubbed across his chest. Back and forth or up and down as she moved against him. The way they would draw circles and poke at him. How they would push into his mouth. She moaned again and he felt an answering groan urge from his crotch. His balls drew up in need, then released to sway heavy as his member jolted. He thought of pushing the sides of her tits together around his hardness and pumping. Forcing his cock up the center of her chest and sliding between her mounds. She would poke at it with her tongue each time up and even grab at it with her lips, nibble and suck. Strain to keep it even as it pulled away. The memory of fucking her tits made his member give a particularly painful throb and he pressed in close to her. He moved in until he felt the poking in his chest. Her nipples were staying rigid now and her moans were enticing liquid feelings from his insides. His hands moved over her globes again and pinched the tips. They responded with tingles he sensed and moans he heard. Her pants were still on and he pressed his fingers to her center, felt the moisture through the cloth. She was soaked! She moaned louder and more urgently. His fingers pushed harder, threatened to enter her through the layers of clothing. Her moans came more urgently than ever and punctuated with sighs and squeals. The hand moving over the flesh of her back moved around and pinched the right nipple again. This elicited a half scream. He moved closer still and pressed harder with his fingers, felt the nub of her sex and the wet of her desire. His hardness bore into her hip and he bent his head to her neck. When his lips touched, she shrieked "Oh!". Pushed her flesh at his lips, moaned and thrashed against the bindings holding her wrists above her head. Her nipples poked at him all the harder. His other hand moved up her back, feeling and testing the muscles. He squeezed the taut skin and smoothed the bulges and knots. She was moaning wantonly now. Lascivious utterings that struck at his core. It was pure strength of effort that kept him from ripping her pants down and grabbing her ass to ram into her. Great animal thrusts that would lift her from her feet and cause her to wrap her legs around him in a desperate clinging that would leave them both spent in minutes. He wanted hours, though, and would bear his ache as best he could. Hardest for him, was the way her moans would wrench his gut or her sighs would cut into his will. His hands were free over her skin. Tensing, touching and tenting folds of her smooth skin, pinching and tweaking the parts of her that begged for attention; her nipples, shoulders, lips, scalp. Each time his fingers squeezed together, she would moan or squeal or shriek. Every sound from her was met with an answering throb of ache and need from his rock hard cock. He pressed it into her. She felt it clearly through their clothes, sticking into her, heightening her need. Hours, he'd said. The time between that first touch walking in the door and the moment she finally gets relief from her agony of want. His hand reached to her just in the door, grasped her fingers and brought her into sweet embrace. His lips met hers without prelude and the thrill shooting through her at his insistence left her panties wetter than even all the thoughts and envisionings she'd had throughout the day had made them. She'd changed underwear just before coming over, but they were already wet again. Despite the nervousness and the hesitancy, her need drove her into frenzy and distraction. She could barely wait to leave work and be on her way, yet her fingers shook as she buttoned her coat and her knees trembled as she tried to walk sedately out to her car. The time before she was to be at his door moved in fits and jerks. She was shakily walking to her car, then she was fumbling the key into her lock. She waited an eternity to get ready and suddenly couldn't get her shirt buttoned fast enough to leave on time. Checking one last time to be sure she'd done all he asked and wore everything he demanded, she left a minute and a half late and found herself jogging to the car. Punctuality was important to him, at least, he stressed specifics of when she would be where for him, so she assumed it was important to him. She'd never consciously disappoint him. At least, she never had yet and didn't want to. If asked, she couldn't tell you why she would so willingly do anything to please him. She would say that it was because he demanded this of her. She might say that he pleased her so much she would do anything to bring the same delight to him. She may say that she feared the punishment for failing him (though she would feel her panties soak at the thought of what he might do to her). The truth is that she had no idea, really, as to why she so explicitly and consciously followed his every direction -- even when it made her uncertain and nervous. Even now, hanging from a hook on the door in his room, her wrists locked together over her head and shoulders tiring, her body's every nerve shooting fire and jabbing shocks into her with his every pinch, shocking her with the tease of his fingertips, she dreaded what will be asked of her next while she craved more and more. He pinched her left nipple again and she wailed, snapped awake from her reverie. The jolt to her sex was followed with the knowledge of how tender she was getting and a long moan. She felt her stomach tremble with fear remembering the time he'd whipped her breasts until they were tender for days. The same time he'd made her cum so hard she'd lost track of her muscles and self, shaking and screaming for minutes that dragged out to time unknown. Would he do that to her this time? Would he release her from the hook to fuck her like a dog, on all fours, pounding mercilessly until she would be left bruised inside and tender for a week? She hoped so and shivered at the thought both. He pressed his fingertips to her scalp and squeezed. She sighed and he moved his fingers over her head to squeeze again. The look of her face when the jaw would clench and the muscles tauten in the throes of her orgasm was so precious to him. He squeezed again and the moan shot through his groin, sending quivers through his balls as they drew up in excitement and relaxed with the pulsing of his member. Again, he thought of yanking her pants off and impaling her -- hard and fast. Ramming her in a frenzy of fucking that would leave her breathless and gasping. Shooting his load and filling her drenched and dripping hole until he would see it oozing out of her as she hung limply at the end of this treatment. A groan escaped him before he could stop it and he pinched her nipple again, making her shriek. She lapsed into a long drawn out moan and he allowed his hands to resume their roving movements over her back, stomach and chest. He bent his lips to her neck once more and nibbled the tender flesh there as she moaned and writhed. He would move his mouth onto her collar bones and hum as her groans stretched into long minutes and sobbing gasps of ohs and ahs. She was pressing her chest toward his lips, manipulating her body to present areas for his ministrations when his fingers stroked down the opening in her shirt and once again pushed against her wetness making her squeal and squirm. His digits pinched and prodded. Invaded her as far as her pants and panties would allow. The tips tried to meet with her nub between them, then squeezing her pussy lips as they tried to squirt away. Each pressuring of his fingers brought a moan or a keening out of her lips. Her head was thrown back and her back bent against the constraints of her bindings, the way she was hung on the hook. It forced her hips out to him and it gave her a thrill that the movement elicited a groan from him. She shivered and another of his groans chilled her. He drew his knee up so that she felt once again his hardness poking through the fabric of his trousers. She squirmed, pushing her clothed hips at him and trying to gain purchase and force his spear to penetrate her. The clothing was becoming a frustration and she growled. He moved right up against her, his hardness all but ripping through the cloth. His hands delighted their way up from her thighs, over her ass, up her lower back and up, up to her shoulders. They continued, kneading and massaging her upper arms, up the elbows and forearms, inexorably up to her fingers where they twined briefly before pulling a strip of silk, a necktie, from the door and tying it over her eyes. She felt a thrill of fear and a flooding of fluid at the same time and marveled how she could have both at once. A strip of leather came around her throat as his lips worked their way over the tender skin. She found herself holding her breath. Despite her trepidation, her pussy kept drizzling. Drip after drip of her juices were slipping out of her delicate lips and snaking down her thighs. Her body and her mind were separating, as they often did when he worked on her. Her reason and self control would war with her body's cravings and desires. The battle itself might be familiar except that, when it came to him, her body always won. In the end, she supposed, so did she. She wondered if he would do that asphyxiation so popular. The thought scared the hell out of her, yet her pussy wouldn't stop its relentless dripping. Whatever he did would be okay with her. She knew, deep down, that he would always be safe. "Safe, sane and consensual". The motto of the true deviant and she had no illusions about that. He was a deviant. Inventive and creative. Exciting and thrilling, but certainly deviant. His hardness attested to that. The way his cock would grow and stiffen seeing her bound. The way he would all but cum watching her writhe in agony of need. The sudden pinch on her nipple brought her screaming out of her fugue. Another pinch and another jolting reaction. Her entire body was tensing and releasing with each pinch. The hook on the door was groaning and she thought there must be a puddle of her juices surrounding her feet on the floor from where they ran down her legs and out the pant bottoms. Now his head moved between her breasts and his lips nibbled first one, then the other. The sides of her breasts tingled and delighted her and when he moved over the nipples, she felt the twinges in her clit. His tongue laved the globes and his lips massaged the delicate tissue. His hands delivered freely over her, pinching and prodding and soothing the tender flesh and nerve. When they reached her stomach, they moved down into her pants, pulled out and shoved them down to her knees. He stepped on them, taking them in a heap to her ankles, though he left her panties intact covering her soaking wet mound. Even the curls of her hair felt moist and her opening felt as though it were grasping at air, pulsing with want. Now she could feel his cock, rock hard, outlined by his trousers and driving into her moisture. She spread her thighs as much as she could and tried to welcome it inside. It only pressured her more and sent her undulations of frustration, roiling in time with her bucking hips and pulsating sex. She pulled at the hook and twisted her body enough to press her vulva onto his knee as it bent upward. She felt the jab and gave an involuntary shudder and an "oh!" of surprise. Her pussy was grabbing and grasping at his pants, restrained by the cloth as surely as her hands were kept by the hook and the ties around her wrists. Would he give her relief? She knew that he would, he always does and such relief! Yet, he'd told her it would be hours before she even walked through the door. She wondered if it had been even one yet or if it had been mere minutes and she had miles to go. Her nipples jiggled with her struggles and gave her shivers of desire and delicious need. The sway and shuddering of her breasts sent pangs of spark through her sex. She was wanton. Out of control with lust. He would do what he wanted with her and though there was no stopping him physically, she would as soon stop breathing as keep him from his delights. Glad only that he chose her to deliver his fantasies upon. He had yet to remove any of his clothing and as his hands worked their way up her sides, she wanted little more than to feel his naked form against her. The hardness of his muscles and the strength of his arms wrapping her, taking her and keeping her. She was daydreaming and he brought her crashing back by pinching her clitoris between his thumb and finger. She squealed and arched her back. The sensations were so much more distinct with the blindfold. The pinches sharper, the dance of his fingers more clear. She realized she would cum with any sustained effort on his part. She felt her panties so sopping wet that they may never dry and nearly giggled at the thought. His fingers squeezed her nub through the drenched silk and she gasped, without breath enough for the scream it should have been. A shiver followed. A harbinger of climax. Another pinch like that and she would cum! A gut wrenching deliverance. She could feel it overwhelming her and the shiver became a shudder and a shaking before his hand took her face and his voice in her ear said "don't you cum". As quiet and as menacing as it could be for her. Laden with threat and husky with need. "Not yet, you don't." It made her shake all the harder and now a flood of fear that she wouldn't be able to hold back coursed through her spine, flopping her limbs like a rag doll. His belt landed on her nipple with a snap and she just gasped. Now the other nipple felt the snap and the orgasm wouldn't leave her, merely held itself in abeyance. Waiting for the next jostle to burst from her. The hook moaned for her, her breath gone. Her back arching and swerving, her breasts swaying back and forth with the jerking movements. She gasped again and again, as hungry for air as for his next touch or pinch or word or thrust of his spear into her. He was tapping her nipples with the end of the leather strap, using a snapping motion. Though she couldn't see it and had no idea when the next would fall or on which side, she knew the practiced motions well, having seen and experienced them. His finger and thumb were back on her aching nub and the pinch made her scream this time. An agonizing keening at the end that drove a groan from him into the charged atmosphere. His voice was at her ear. Low and gentle, rolling timbre, "don't you cum. You tell me before that happens or we'll stop right there and do this another night." She groaned long and low at these words and felt the familiar building pressure. She would burst like an overburdened dam with just another pinch. "Are you two pinches away?" His words, his tone were driving her faster and harder. "Just. One." She could only gasp. She didn't have even the air to say it louder than the whispered mouthings she gave. "Oh. I can't." Her back arched and the door groaned with the strain of her muscles. The arms taut and beautiful, the breasts pushed forward and up, the buttocks clenched and the long gorgeous legs stretched to breaking, she reached a peak and shivered violently. A sob escaped her anguished lips and her body acted it for his pleasure. "Okay, then," he whispered, "I'll give you one". His covered chest brushed her hardened nipple and she burst into a thousand colors of vibrancy. The storm set upon her and she yanked her head side to side even as he pressed his thumb between her teeth and kissed the rest of her lips. She twisted and jerked in full convulsions. She lay panting against the door, her legs as watery as the fluids leaving her in a steady drizzling. Her stomach muscles gave way to an unclenching slowly. Every other bit of her, even her hair felt limp and hung there. She couldn't have imagined orgasming this way even some little time ago. He'd warned her. She couldn't say now that he hadn't. The same way he'd warned her about spanking her clit until she came or making sure to have all the orgasms she wanted early in their relationship because later -- and that was now -- they would all be his to give as he saw fit and in whatever way he said. It was several days ago he mentioned casually how he would see her cum by being pinched. And she'd laughed. A nervous, tinkly laugh, it's true, but a laugh. She hadn't believed he would or could. She was panting still and her body felt like it was moving through molten rock. He tweaked her nipple gently. An easy reminder of what he had done to her. As though he knew where her thoughts had roamed all on their own. The black of the blindfold was yet imposed on her as he felt under her panties, peeling them away from her waterlogged hips. They were soaked through and up the lacy sides. His hands separated them from her skin all the way around her waist and she felt the warmth of his breath brush her pubic hairs as his face passed where he pulled it away from her steaming pussy. Then it was back and closer. She squirmed in anticipatory delight. Her knees pushing to the side as her thighs quiver open. His exhalations felt so warm and moist on her wet curls. She could feel them fluff with the slight whoosh of outgoing breath. He turns his head side to side and she can feel the coolness of air striking wettened skin. A sliver of desire slices her back open and she wants nothing more than his mouth on her, his tongue snaking inside. She imagines it so readily. The blindfold giving unnatural sharpness to her senses. He's puffing lightly over the juice smeared moist spots. Making the goose pimples rise there and the subtle teasing that sets her once again firmly on the road to orgasm. And she wants to go! She wants his guidance. Wants him to place her in the passenger seat and drive her there. "Please." It's a tiny utterance. Barely a whisper, but it speaks so loud to her harried ears that she knows not what will come next. Does he feel how, small as it was, it was torn from her? Does he know how he reached all the way inside her to take this from her very self? With a shiver she accepts that he knows. That he consciously reached in and yanked it out into the open. She would say it again if it would bring him to finish her. He'd told her hours and it must have been already or he wouldn't have let her cum. Would he hold her hours more? She envisioned not being able to make it. Would she disappoint him? She saw herself losing control completely. All her body functions gone. She sobbed in an anguish at the picture. Surely he wouldn't do that to him. The only thing he'd told her was that she would cum by simply and solely being pinched. She did. What more would he take from her? Her leaden body struggled now. He moved in close and forced her to the door. She couldn't help a thrill of excitement even as she continued fighting. He pressed harder and her squirming became sinuous, a writhing movement that she knew he would only appreciate more and be driven to keep her in the clutches. She couldn't help it, control was receding quickly. Panic was taking her. She couldn't see and felt chafed everywhere. The intensity of feeling heightened with her rising fear and the feel of his lengthening and hardening cock didn't help her focus the least bit. But it was. Growing and insistent. Her bucking, she knew, worsening the situation. She could scream and rage now and he would calmly spank her or set her on his pole and refuse her the rest until she capitulated fully. This is how he would deal with her, yet she was too far out of herself to care. Hooked "Mmmmmmmm." His voice just audible. His lips forcing her ear in reach as her head shakes and fights for release. "That's right. I want you lost. Your body is more mine than your own. It will do what I want it to and you will have to deal with that." His breath now felt threatening and heated. His words frightening though she strained to hear them. She wanted him to stop but couldn't bring herself to say the words that would make him release her. "That's right. Your orgasms are mine and I will have them the way I want them. I want you anxiousness and desperate when you cum." His hand touched the side of her face and she involuntarily let out a small scream. "Mmmmmmmm. You're going to cum so good for me." Another insufficient "please" wracked her body. Her lips barely moved and he pressed his thumb past her teeth when they did. It tasted like her own juices. The way they taste when he makes her lick them from his cock. She lapped at it as he pulled it slowly back out with the moan he'd found there. Suddenly his fingers were back at her panties, peeling them aside and shoving his face into her misty bush. She cried out. As his tongue shoved in and out of her open, sopping mound, he grabbed the globes of her ass, then slid his hands up her sides and pinched her nipples. She was sent reeling into a shattering lurch. His thumbs were peeling her delicate lips apart as he stuffed his muscle deeper in her and she hadn't enough breath to gasp or moan or scream. When her storm abated, she managed a long shuddering breath and a limp waggle of her tits before slumping in her bindings. He turned her to the door and massaged her back. Ran his hands up the spine, and softly down the sides until she melted with the grain of the wood. His digits made firm circles deep into the sides of her spine and moved up and down her back, from the top of her ass to her neck. She melted further into the wood. The ties were straining against the hook and cutting into her wrists, but she didn't have the strength to raise up. His hands moved with certainty and knowledge across her ribs and to her hips. Up her sides and kneading her shoulders. His fingertips traced lines down her back and bunched handfuls of her buttocks. She didn't notice when he slipped a thumb under her panties, pulled it aside and lifted her ass. What she did notice was his pole ramming its way into her depths (when did his pants open?). His hands had spread up and onto her shoulders. As his cock shoved up, his hands pulled down and her gut wrenched open. She came before the second stroke completed and the screaming and writhing drove him into a fury of pumping. He lifted her off the hook when he finished and carried her to the bed. Her pants at her ankles and her panties so wet she they'll never be dry again. He set her half on the edge with her knees off the mattress and her ass pushing up. She'd just gotten her hands above her head before he pushed her flat. Now she heard his belt come out of the loops. A sound she'd heard and thrilled at many times before. Now, with the blindfold, it sounded clearer than ever. She heard the clanking of the buckle and rustle of cloth that shot a pang thrilling through her insides. Now she felt the cool of the air strike her buttocks. Her panties were peeled to her ankles and the goose pimples raised over the newly exposed flesh. She felt where the moisture had completely impregnated the skin and moaned at the thought of the leather making it too hot to touch. She wriggled and bunched her ass, marveling at how he made her feel so wanton. She wanted him to want her. She knew how he loves to watch her writhe and she squirmed, hoping he would find it irresistible. She was pooching her ass out for him when he grabbed the ties between her wrists. She hadn't felt him move and the sudden jerking made her squeal with trepidation. What else was in store for her? She'd been through so much already. He hooked her bindings to something she didn't see and her arms were stretched to their extent. She raised her head, wondering if he would be at her ear next. She loves when he tells her what will be next. He didn't. All was silent until she heard the whirring of the belt slicing through the atmosphere and the answering smack when it landed on her ass. She screamed. More from surprise than from the sting. She felt the heat rising off her in waves as the next stroke fell. And another. Three more and she was squirming wildly, soaking the edge of the bed. She had visions of a wet spot growing and spreading until it pooled on the carpeted floor. She didn't count the strokes, but had become so accustomed to them that when they stopped, she groaned from the tips of her toes. The burning had become part of her and now the absence was palpable. The cool air slid over the smarting cheeks of her ass and made puckers as it went. She raised her head again. Where was he? His legs squeezed her arms together and he pushed his fully hard cock to her lips. His hands grabbed the back of her head and forced her onto the throbbing pole, but she could only reach halfway. She gasped and wriggled harder, trying to push her way onto the bed to take it all. He swatted her butt with the belt end, a sharp slap and she jumped, but stopped struggling. His cock pulled out to the very tip pressed to her lips and she nibbled greedily. He groaned at this and warmth spread through her. The head pushed to her teeth and out again and she licked and nibbled completely out of control. She needed his cock in her throat. Needed him fucking her mouth and shooting streams of thick jism into her. She tried to express this, wiggling and jutting her neck out, but his hands held her head firmly and he pushed in or pulled out as he wanted. Her hips were bucking as he kept teasing her. She needed his cock in her so bad! It was all she could think of. All the way in her throat or buried in her snatch, she wanted it with a desperation she hadn't felt before. At least since last time, though each time it seemed worse than it ever had. His cock pulled away and she shrieked in outrage. She struggled again and tried inching her way across the bed but a sharp smack with the belt stopped her and left her panting. She could feel her ass so hot that waves were flowing up from it. The air movement too feeble to cool it even the slightest bit. Now his voice directed into her ear. "If you keep struggling, I will tie you so tight that you will not even be able to raise your ass to take my cock as deep as I want it in you. Then I'll be upset at missing what should be mine." She shivered and stopped her struggles. "That's better." His hand stroked its way down her back to toy with her buttocks. "That's the way I love your ass. Hot and red and still wet from your pussy juices. I want to fuck you and feel your ass want more." She moaned. A guttural moan that shook her entire body. "Do you want my cock in you?" "Yes." Was all she could manage. A whispered entreaty that sounded inadequate to her ears. She left it in the air, unable to produce enough pressure in her throat for more. He must have accepted it, however, because the weight lifted from the bed and his hand removed from her bottom. Long minutes passed. She nearly dozed thinking of how hard he was and how he'd stayed hard after fucking her against the door and splattering his cum inside her. She daydreamed how he would look with his cock waving as he strode around her and the throbbing and twitching when he stayed in front of her. The appraising looks he gives her when she is bared and bound before him. She loved it all. She loved the way he knew what he wanted from her. How he knew he wanted her craving and appalled at the same time. She loved the way she had no idea what he would do to her next and yet she loved every second of it. She loved not knowing what to expect and wanting anything he gave. She loved the trickle of fear and discomfort as he would take her away from the familiar and into the uncertain and unknown. She loved the way her body responded to him like a true lover and her mind rebelled, telling herself not to do it. Not to go any further or get wrapped up any deeper. He was oblivious to her protestations. He listened solely to her body and made it want more and she loved even that. The way he took what he wanted and gave what she needed. His hand interrupted her reverie with a sharp slap on the bunch of her ass. She writhed. It stung and brought tears to her eyes. She was working through it when his hard staff pierced her. The muscles of her rear were bunched and released as he speared her again and again. An alternating slap would rip a shriek from her lips. Just as she felt the building feeling bubbling its way through her body, he stopped and slapped her. Hard. She cried out and her struggles renewed. Her head thrashed back and forth trying to clear the blindfold from her eyes. The belt landed with a stinging lash yanking a cry and tears from her. The belt then wrapped around her ankles and was locked to something. She had no idea what, but her feet were locked to the edge of the mattress and she was now tied down so thoroughly that her struggles were moot. She stopped, panting and listened intently for where he might be now. She heard nothing but her own heavy breathing. Distinct pants renting the still air. His fingers crept to a clutch on the insides of her thighs and the quick movement to spread them and open her pussy took all her breath. The stab of his tongue left her devoid of thought as well. He lapped at her, suckled and shoved his face for so few moments before she felt the edge of her orgasm press her. He stopped just as sudden and she flinched waiting for the slap he would give to quiet her climax. Though her flesh trembled, the blow never came. His fingers twined in her hair and pulled her mouth up to taste her own juices slathered over his velvet cockhead. She licked and sucked greedily. As fervently as he had just taken her pussy. She could taste the precum and feel the excitement grow when he yanked it away and left her grasping for oxygen. His kiss took her by surprise yet again. Tender and subtle, he was taking the fluids from her own pussy from her own lips. Teasing them off her plumped soft skin with his tongue and sucking them into his mouth. She could have kept him at it for hours, but he left her alone and feeling in the dark for a sign of what would come next. His fingers on her back. His tongue rammed in her sopping cunt. His cock slamming in her, shoving her diaphragm, tracing rubbed spots and sore points inside her. Giving her delicious tingles when his smooth member touches on tender areas deep within. She wanted to cry with the joy and delight of it all. Once more his cock bounced at the back of her throat and once more left her needy, her lips smeared with pussy. As he took his tool from her he swiped it on her cheeks. Those very juices were leaving her body in a steady stream now and when he shoved his face into her, she imagined them gushing. The warmth that ran with them overtook her and she had no more ability to stop her shaking than to hold back the orgasm pounding inside her. As it broke over her, a tide of epic proportion, disembodied noises ranted. Then his full length and hardness penetrated her very heart. He untied her with heavy swollen fingers and tired movements. They collapsed together and woke hours or days after. Hooked The first time I heard Sam singing his version of a Beatles number, 'All My Lovin' I just knew I was hooked. He performed at the local bar, I had not heard of him until then but I grabbed the opportunity to buy him a drink after he'd performed and received rapturous applause. That was then and now is now, we got talking like it was magic, like we both had so much in common and he said, if he could drive me home he would be glad to give me some more renditions of his talent. I went for that, I had never felt so lucky. To have actually been noticed by Sam who really was so sweet. So there we were, planted on his gorgeous leather settee and me being treated to a really wonderful excusive performance of his songs given the accompaniment of his recorded backing music. He has a large detached house in the country, some way from his nearest number so he was really able to let himself go. Very soon we exchanged our wants and our ambitions, he'd had two or three bad relationships and I felt empathy for him. He announced he just didn't think he was cut out for a heterosexual relationship any more and was turning his thoughts to coming out, because he knew that was the basis of his broken relationships, that he could just not perform any more with girls, although he loved and adored them, but to be intimate with them was something else. "Nothing wrong in that at all" I said. "At the end of the day you are you and nothing can change that, Sam, you sing beautifully and I cherish your sound." He looked good to me, he wore nice snugly fitted beige trousers which suited hum perfectly and I adored his tailored shirt. I just don't know how it happened but he prompted me just to lay my head on his lap and stretch out with my legs on the sofa. It all seemed so wonderful, just laying there listening to his sweet murmurings and the occasional singing. - without the musical accompaniment now, just Sam quietly singing, his fingers running through y hear. It was perfect. "Where have you been al my life, Alex? He whispered to me, his fingers wondering then, stroking my neck , my Adam's Apple. "Been waiting for someone like you" I replied happily enjoying his gentle finger tip touches. He said he had never been so happy for a along time and I saw that he closed his eyes and leaned his head back, his fingers, just the very touch of his warm caresses, were just magic. I never imagined it could be so wonderfully different and diverse with Sam, He wasn't like any of the others, his approach, everything. Mind you it was always nice with Badger, the rough hands of an old man were always a great turn on in his allotment shed, his fuck was slow and enjoyable and he had me more times than I can number. And with Danny too, his fuck was always a thrill, not to mention the build up. I simply adored the way he held his cock inside me, stopping awhile and letting me feel its deep probing throb, especially when he took me sitting on top for an even deeper penetration, I always enjoyed that and imagined there could never be anyone better than Danny for the ultimate quality fuck.. Phil too was nice, they wee all different, no fuck was ever quite like another - with Phil his thing was to tie his soiled underwear around my neck, making me taste him as he fucked me, I felt repelled at first and yet there was a certain relish about it once I got into the mood, his fingers having done their job all under me, his mouth too and always that deep probing very long tongue of his. I felt a strange warmth and magic feeling with my head nudged between his thighs, his fingers still gently caressing my hair, my neck, ears and now, he was running his small finger around the circumference of my lips which truly gave me a feeling I had never quiet experienced ever before. I twisted my head slightly into his groin, so warm there and so good, he moved just a little, enough for me to nudge deeper I guess and I took the opportunity, feeling a slight exuberance there as he sighed deeply and began to do something I could never have imagined was such a real turn on but with a difference. When he first penetrated his fingers into my mouth I imagined he was just examining my rather dilapidated molars which really needed to come out, well Sam was a dentist. But this was something more. It became exciting too, his manoeuvring of my lips, stretching my mouth in different directions with two strong fingers lodged inside. It was a rather odd feeling at first, different to say the least, but soon it became something more than just what I thought was an inspection, when his fingers gently stroked the inside of my mouth cheeks, running across the roof and bottom of my mouth, teasing my tongue, but all the time, he not saying a word, simply moaning a little in that sexual sound I knew so well. It was rather lovely, and when he bent down and somehow managed to find my mouth with his, he endeared me with the most delightful of dee0-p penetrating French kisses I'd ever known, but with fingers still stretching lips apart, his tongue finding mine. That was when I started to feel a swelling against my cheek with my head still planted slightly sideways into his groin. -who could ever have imagined, least me, that this could be so utterly thrilling and exciting, to feel the growth of his cock beneath his trousers like it was itching to come out. But it soon was, with Sam edging my head down just a little, but still holding it nudged lower between his tight, he managed to unzip just enough to give me his scent and I wondered what this wonderful man would do next, everything so far having been so very different. I was soon to find out and what a sheer delight it was, because with one hand still busy fingering my mouth, stretching it wide open. He used the other to inch out that glorious pink headed cock of his, spent a little time, wanking it, squeezing it and then sort of bending it, then easing it into my mouth with his fingers and soon I was drenched in the first taste of his pre-cum squirting over my tongue as he enthusiast6ically manoeuvred and twisted it around the inside of my mouth in every conceivable way. I was in a trance, feeling the warmth of his balls lap under my chin as he continued to thoroughly enjoy himself inside my mouth. And yet he was always careful not to choke me. It was divine to feel the firmness, yet the plumpness of his huge cock pamper me that way. I wondered if I would be in for a fuck too or would he be just happy to finish himself into my mouth, at no time had he suggested it, although I did feel him rim me a couple of times which was very nice, but it made me horny and hungry for the feel; of hard cock inside again. But before that was achieved there were a few things more Sam wanted to do with me that really made for exciting pre-fuck I could ever have realised. And yet, when he tied my wrist to the bed rail I knew he would not hurt me, it was more for the thrill I knew that and I wanted that, it felt good to somehow live in a fantasy that he was the master and I his servant, especially when he jumped stark naked onto the bed and presented his so stiff and throbbing cock into my mouth once more for a real good gobble this time, even more than before, he spent time, just teasing his knob around my lips inside and out, touching mine with his, around and around like he did inside my mouth, I loved the smell and taste of him, wanted that, all of it, inside me. He whispered it would all come in time,. Literally - and I said I hoped so. With sweet Sam, murmuring sweet nothings into my ear, occasionally pressing his mouth to mine for another of his extraordinary wet French kisses, after my mouth had just been embellished with the saturation of his hot wet cock, he holding on to the bed rail, edging his cock all over me, my hands tied firmly behind, I enjoyed the pleasure he took of me, It was good to suck and taste him, tease his cock head between my teeth in order to stretch back his foreskin nice and tight, so I could see and feel his jerk, no hand, just mouth and tongue doing the job so beautifully. In a while he stopped, untied me and ordered me onto all fours, my hind pronounced high for his service, he said. Would this mean he would give it to me at last, but then having tied me hog style he exited to the kitchen to fix some eats he said - and something to drink, that I would need that for what he was going to do to me next. I just waited, stopped there on all fours, aching for his fuck now, the taste of him pungent in my mouth, my throat, my tongue - now I wanted it inside me, and good! But he came up with some crab sandwiches which he declared were a good aphrodisiac and feeding me with them I felt completely at his mercy, it was all part of that special bond between us. "I don't think somehow I need an aphrodisiac, Sam?" "You will by the time we've finished!" he warned. When we'd eaten I felt the hunger he endured of me, felt his hot mouthy suck and rim me, and then suck my cock, it was so good, he wanking me as he did that, then the feel of his tongue inside my ass was really a good starter, but then I wanted cock, good and hard and thrusting, I was aching for that! It was a beautiful fuck, his fingers still inside my mouth, stretching and manoeuvring, me thinking is that the way dentists do it, his fingers tasting of that which had just been inside my hole preparing it for his fuck, so different and wonderful and as he started to fuck me, his fingers working in my mouth stretching like that I felt a certain belonging and warmth I had never ever felt before and it was wonderful.. Like his fingers in my mouth and his cock up my ass I was well and truly hooked on Sam. Hooked SMOKEY SAGAS #14: "Hooked" *** May 31st, 8:22 p.m. The merry, merry month of May was less than four hours from over. Spring was past full bloom, summer a mere three weeks away. The given evening's sunset was nothing short of amazing, a purple, orange and blue eclipse of cloud and horizon. The thermostat had hit its day high of 79°F four hours ago, and was now lightly floating just below a balmy 74. And the hustle-bustle simply didn't quit; the further south downtown on the map, the later into the wee twilight hours the city remained active. Especially at the crossroads of Wellings Street and Cherrywood Street. Fifty feet north of the Wellings-Cherrywood intersection stood one of the tallest, most monumental office buildings in the city, the Gailmore Towers, at thirty stories high. It sported a vertical spectrum of prestige, maintaining a steady ratio of altitude to salary. The higher workers rode the elevators or strode the staircases to their jobs, the more on the average they earned. Indeed as was the case of one particular occupant of the offices on the 26th floor. Zachary Harris, an international research consultant employed on floor twenty-six of the Gailmore Towers, worked what would be considered ridiculously long hours stacked up next to schedules of many others. He typically got into the office around 6:00 six days a week, and on a good day could get out by about 5:00, maybe 5:30. But most days, like this one, he was compelled by his business obligations to take it well upwards of twelve hours. On top of which, he did more traveling in a month than many did in a lifetime. Being global, these professionals were hired—more like summoned—by foreign businesses at what felt like the drop of a hat to trolley off to the airport, go through gate after gate, customs after customs, hotel room after hotel room, all for a meeting to discuss and advise on foreign economic or business policy, sometimes for as short a time as thirty minutes, depending on the extent of meeting purposes. And at 38, ten years' experience under his belt, Zachary was starting to really tire of it all. In every sense of the word. He was starting to think he really needed something a little different to shake up what only a literalist would refer to as his life. Before again hopping on a plane with a temporary farewell to his neglected U.S. abode, he more and more often found himself wishing he was doing something—anything—else for a living. Preferably anything that entailed permanently staying on one continent. He wasn't even that concerned which continent it was. He forced himself each time to look at the pros of his situation. In a highly esteemed field with some of the most expansive time spans possible spent at work, and without the typical longing to live as luxuriously as peers at his level, he was well past comfortable financially. His B.A. in business wouldn't make it that difficult to land a position nearly as advantageous, even in such a competitive market. Realistically, by this point, he might—might—be able to ditch it all and ride out a nice, reasonably cushy, less demanding lifestyle and occupation with fewer hours, fewer obligations, fewer frequent flyer miles and the weight of jet lag lifted off his shoulders. At least for the next significant chunk of his existence. Heaven knew he would have had more than enough time to think about his life options on the planes, but after all that terminal-hopping, all he tended to do on most airline trips was sleep. Heaven also knew he didn't have all the time in the world to sleep in his own bed in his own home. Airplane seats being not nearly as comfy as any manufactured brand of mattress available for public sale, he didn't end up with the most cheery disposition at many meetings. And he did ask himself time after time, Well, Zack, God's sake, why not just take a vacation for crying out loud? You've accrued plenty of time, and it's not like you can't afford it! And yet, with the connotations a vacation indicated, the very idea tuckered his mind out before he could even consider his activities. He couldn't mentally kick back on the beach or relax in a four-star suite with a drink, a TV and a king-size without first picturing the method of transport. He did this all the time! He already jumped on planes—trains, busses and taxis—with such staggering regularity the act almost literally made his head spin. And however long his vacation lasted, sooner or later, he'd be right back on the planes again, doing more of the same. Needless to say, agents such as caffeine, aspirin and Visine had become some of his best friends—another element severely lacking in human form in his everyday quote-unquote "life." Outside of colleagues, Zachary's social calendar might as well not even have been purchased. There was no allowance of spare time for outings with friends, even if he'd had that many. He had family members here in town who lived relatively close by (no pun intended), but he virtually never got to see them either. And dating—at least steady dating—was absolutely an impossibility. Besides all the other factors stacked against him in the courtship arena, the female half of the drones and zombies in his profession, foreign and domestic, erased his memory clean blank of what an attractive, animated, interesting woman even remotely looked like. It was true; for all intents and purposes, Zachary Matthew Harris was, essentially, a zombie. It was only on Sundays when he actually closed his eyes for several consecutive hours at a time. Lately, those precious few hours of unconsciousness had systematically become the happiest he got to experience. Oh, he usually slept four to five hours on normal days, and pretty well. But during the days he went without the substantial Sunday amount, the need and desire for it lessened its toll on him. He hadn't had sex with anyone other than himself in years, but that yearning hadn't surfaced in months either. Actually, the only legit source of non-drone human contact he had on a regular basis was the solitary co-worker with whom he'd made friends, Dan. Zack and his buddy Dan Kline certainly didn't talk or interact nonstop all day long, but they managed to have a decent frequency of lunches together, and oftentimes after work made their way down to the corner pub for a quick drink before catching a taxi home. They didn't have cars—at least not which they drove anywhere near here. They'd waste way too much time going down twenty-six floors, feeding the meter, going up twenty-six floors, back down to feed it again, ad infinitum. There were plenty of cases in which time really was money, and paying a cabbie for a simple fare plus tip was far simpler and more efficient than the alternative. It was after 8:00, and they were starting to get pretty wiped. "Man, let's blow this popsicle stand, how 'bout it," Dan called to him from his cubicle. "Best idea I've heard all day," Zachary agreed. They each rose with a stretch, grabbed their belongings and headed to the elevator. If they ever felt they could use a little exercise, they could take the stairs, but with schedules like theirs, they were still finishing waking up in the mornings, and they were drained of stamina by the evenings. The only mileage the staircases above floor nine or ten got came as the result of a broken elevator. They got outside finally at 8:22. The cool late spring breeze stopped by briefly to refresh them. "So what'dya say?" asked Dan. "Feel like grabbing a beer?" He shook his head. "Nah...thanks. You go ahead; I've got a flight early in the morning. I think I'm just gonna check in, try and get a wink or two." "Heh! Well, good luck with that!" said Dan, also of course abreast of what crazy hours their occupation entailed. "Yeah...I'll tell ya, man, I'm really starting to feel like just calling it quits," Zachary admitted. "'S seriously stressing me out." "Oh yeah?" replied Dan. "Well, y'know what, a while back I was kinda feeling the same way, so y'know what I did, I went and saw this chick hypnotist, right up around Columbia Street, I think. Dr...Starr, I'm pretty sure she was..." He thought. "Oh, shoot, what was her first name again, uh...Annie, Angie, something like that. Anyway, dude, she is freaking amazing. I'll find you her number if you want." "Uh, heh..." Zack hesitated sarcastically. "Thanks, man, but...I really doubt that kinda thing could help me. I'll see ya later." "Well, a'right, but seriously, you might wanna think twice about it, just saying. See ya, dude." He turned and started for the pub. Left alone in front of the Gailmore, Zachary, who was carrying both his briefcase and his suitcase for the trip, flipped through the former to make sure he had the paperwork for the meeting the following day. He was certain he did, orderly as he always was; it was simply incumbent upon him to check. Folks passed by him to and fro on the way to wherever they were headed next, but he hardly noticed them, even after he verified he had all his notes and put them back in the briefcase. The next morning yet another journey was scheduled, this time all the way north into Europe to Norway. Thank God it was summer—or nearly so, he thought to himself. He'd booked a hotel room for the night because this particular hotel was much, much closer to the airport than was his house, and this flight tomorrow morning departed especially early. Perhaps the most frustrating aspect of all the traveling was the inability to ever settle down in any one foreign land and maybe, just maybe do something as radical as enjoy some leisure time there. No time at all to do silly, frivolous things like go on tours, take pictures and see historic sites and landmarks and museums; no, gotta get right back on that next flight and back home to immediately schedule the next one. The more he thought about it, the more he pushed himself towards finding some way out of this rut he called his career. He was certain he couldn't just strut into the big boss's office and say, "I quit!" because, well, for one thing, it wasn't good business etiquette. Technically, one could get away with doing so, in theory; it wasn't illegal, but it wasn't very considerate of his boss or fellow employees either, and if he just up and quit, besides not exactly leaving him and the boss on great terms, should any future potential employer want the boss's recommendation, he'd end up kind of S.O.L. Unless as in certain extreme cases, like, say, death, it would be best to provide two weeks' to a month's notice. Well, he reasoned with himself, the more he thought about this, the more he would weigh out and balance all the factors until he could arrive at the best decision. "Hi there, cutie, you want a date?" He looked up to see a young woman leaning against the lamppost, blithely smoking a cigarette, sporting a flamboyant hairdo, a decent amount of makeup, high heels and a skirt that didn't leave much to the imagination. She was smiling at him, her face turned to the side with a coy, flirty expression. She gave him a finger-wiggle wave when he looked at her. Oh, Lord, he thought, turning away from her for a moment. "Look, I'm-I'm really sorry, ma'am, but I just haven't got the time right now," he told her, glad to have a harmless excuse to remove himself from this situation. He signaled for a cab, but someone else got it first. "You sure, babe?" the woman asked. "Uh, completely sure, yes." "Tickle your balls with a feather?" "Excuse me?" he turned back to her, a little startled. The young woman looked at him innocently. "What? I said, 'Particularly balmy weather.'" Zack could have sworn he heard her say something else, but it wasn't worth it to him to argue over it. Still, she tried again. "Come on," she cooed. "I'd make it worth your while and then some," she provocatively added. I'm sure you would. "No, no, again, sorry, but I've really gotta get going." He more insistently flagged for another cab. Still no luck. He thought, ah, the heck with it, and started walking in the direction of the hotel. It was many blocks up the street, but maybe he'd get a taxi on the way there. The woman started to say something else to him, but he interrupted, "Uh, I've gotta go, really. Goodbye." "Suit yourself, honey," she waved sweetly. Starting on his way, he heard her ask someone else, "Hi, handsome, how about a date?" *** May 31st, 10:03 p.m. After a late dinner consisting of not exactly the best Salisbury steak he'd ever had, Zachary returned to his hotel room. He let the door swing shut, lock automatically, tossed his credit card-shaped key on the table and flipped on the TV. He didn't really intend to actually watch it, he just wanted to have something in the background while he went over things for the next morning. He emptied his briefcase on the bed and popped open his portable laptop. He looked in his suitcase. Well, that's weird, he said to himself. I could have sworn I brought my pajamas. Apparently not. Well, he certainly couldn't sleep in his suit, but he guessed he could just sleep naked. Once he was satisfied that everything was in order and ready for the Norwegians the next day, he turned the TV off, slipped off the suit, hung it up, turned out the lights and hit the hay, in the nude. For the few minutes before he fell asleep, for some reason he found himself thinking about that prostitute on the street. What in the...why would I be thinking about her? he wanted to know. For the one brief moment he looked at her, there seemed to be something about her body in that red skirt she was wearing and the matching heels that... Oh, come on, man, he told himself wearily, The woman's a hooker. Forget her. Go to sleep. And so he did. *** June 1st, 12:00 midnight Zack was in the middle of a deep, deep sleep. So deep was he under the veil of slumber, in fact, that he did not hear the hotel's fire alarm going off until about fifteen to twenty seconds in. The noise through the speakers in all the hotel rooms finally dug far enough into his dream to smack him back into semi-consciousness, a siren sound rising in pitch, followed by a voice commanding, "Evacuate immediately! Evacuate immediately!" He thought he realized what was happening. He thought he was still dreaming. Only semi-conscious, he had no idea why a fire alarm would go off in his dream, but he instinctively threw the blanket off himself and ran out the door to his hotel room. When he finally awoke completely, actually realizing this was not a dream, he also discovered he had forgotten the key. The doors swung closed and locked automatically. He was unable to get back into the room. He'd taken nothing outside with him. Besides which, he had forgotten...oh yeah...I'm naked. Ohhh, God Almighty. The ascending siren stopped. The voice returned. "This has been a fire safety drill. Thank you for your cooperation; you may now return to your rooms." Are...you...kidding?? But thinking more about it, he hadn't really been listening to what the lobby receptionist had been telling him when he checked in, and now he thought he recalled talk of something about there being a fire drill tonight...oh, hell, he even thought he remembered being asked to read the brochure they gave him. Well, a whole lot of good that did him now. "Oh, geez," he muttered out into the open air. "Really??" He tried to be silent, for several reasons. Fortunately for him, they'd given him an outdoor-facing room, so at least his nudity was shrouded in the darkness, as opposed to being exposed by the always lit-hallways. He knew it wouldn't be of any use, but of course he had to at least try the door once. Yup; no luck. Oh, great, he thought. I guess I'm gonna have to go down to the lobby somehow and get them to give me another key. He loathed the thought of having to do so, but...well, what choice had he? Maybe he could hide around the corner and call out to someone to help him. Around the corner came a (female) voice, talking to herself sarcastically, saying, "Yeah, that's terrific. Sure, now that I'm already up, thanks a lot..." Oh, hell, thought Zachary, hearing her coming towards him in a nightgown and a pair of sandals. He stood sideways up against the door, covering himself, just trying to hide his visibility in the darkness. To his temporary relief, she ambled past him, shuffling her hand along the railing, a bottle of water from the vending machine in her other hand. She didn't notice him just at first. Whew, he thought. But the obscurity tactic had failed to work perfectly. Two steps past his door, she stopped. In her mind clicked something strange. She cautiously turned back around. Was someone...standing there?... She squinted and looked a little closer. It appeared, yeah, there was somebody there...and he was... "OH my gosh!" she exclaimed embarrassedly, seeing briefly that he was in fact in the buff, hands over his crotch. She turned to the side and put her free hand in front of her face. "I'm sorry! I'm-...I'm-I'm not looking," she reflexively said. Forcing herself to keep her eyes closed and her voice low, she asked, "Uh...wh-what are you doing?" She was embarrassed, but not nearly as much as he was. "I, eh...I ran out when I heard that alarm, and I didn't get my key." "Ohhh, damn," she said. "Well, uh...I've got mine, and, uh..." He looked up at her hopefully. "...I...guess you could come in my room for a little while...at least so you don't have to run around out here. I...I wouldn't want you to get arrested or anything." Whew again, he thought, grateful past words. "Oh, geez, thank you, thank you so much..." She led him further down the way she was going. Zack tried to stay low, attempting to minimize any chance of being spotted by someone else. The trek around the winding outdoor hall to her room seemed endless. When they finally got there, she retrieved the key, turned to the side, said, "Still not looking," opened the door and herded him in. The first place Zachary went was naturally to the bed, as she flipped on the light. Imaginably, he automatically covered most of himself up with the blankets. "Still not looking," she assured him, remaining turned around. "It's okay," he replied. "I'm under the covers." "Oh, good," she smiled, turning to him. The truth was, in the one split-second after she turned on the light when he lifted the blanket with one hand and slid under, she'd snuck a quick peek at him. She entertained herself briefly replaying it in her mind. "Well, uh..." she said, "I'm sorry I don't really have anything for you to wear in here, except towels. All that's in my closet are skirts and heels." Skirts and heels? Who doesn't wear anything but skirts and h— Something clicked in his mind and he widened his eyes. He looked up at her for a moment. He realized that he had seen her four hours earlier, right outside his office. It was the prostitute herself, the same one that had come on to him while he was trying to get a cab. Oh, Lord, he mentally repeated, sinking a little further under the blanket. No wonder she was willing to let him into her room. He probably should have recognized her voice, but he was of course very preoccupied with just trying to fix the compromising situation outside his hotel room door. Had he looked closer, he would've noticed she had no makeup on, and her hair, which on the street had been playfully teased up to make her look more enticing, was now frizzed back down to normal. Hooked At the same time he made this realization, the epiphany struck her as well, on the same track. "You...kinda look familiar," she said. Really? How can you tell? thought Zachary caustically. But he certainly couldn't say that out loud. He just nodded, filling in the blanks for her. "Gailmore Towers, on Cherrywood Street. You were hitting on me for a minute." Discovery covered her face and she smacked her thigh. "Oh, that's right! 'Tickle your balls with a feather!'" He blushed and turned away. How humiliating. Shaking her head with an amused chuckle, she said, "Well, gee, fancy meeting you again!" "Fancy" is right, he thought. He was going to ask if she could possibly get him a key to his room, but now he was apprehensive that she might use it and make off with his wallet, or more. "Gosh, well, I could possibly get you a key to your room..." she offered, voicing half of his thoughts at the moment. An unreadable expression came over her face, as if she knew the second half of what was going through his mind, but didn't want to say it. Well, son of a bitch. But if she tried, he was kind of powerless to stop her, he realized. He came up with a solution. "Maybe we could call down to the front desk for one and ask them for it instead." "Oh, good idea," she said. "What's your room number?" "207." "Okey-dokey..." She dialed down. "Hi! This is Bella Moretti, in room 225...yeah, I have the occupant of room 207 with me, and it turns out he's accidentally locked himself out of the room. Could you please bring us up a spare key to 207?...Uh-huh...hmm...okay, well, I think we can handle that. Thanks!" Click. She turned to Zack. "They'll be right up." He let out a relieved breath. "Well, thank God." "Yeah, there's just one catch, though," she said. "They need to see your ID to make sure I'm telling them the truth." He did not have his ID. Uh-oh. His face returned to worriment. That means... He didn't want anyone to go into his hotel room without him. Well, hotel staff was okay; he just wasn't sure he totally trusted this girl. She seemed sweet, and she had allowed him to come in her room. Still, he didn't know if... He had no way of being sure, but Bella was a good, honest person, who'd never dream of stealing from him. But just as quickly, his resourceful mind came up with another solution. "Okay, well, I guess if I could borrow one of your towels, that'd work." "Oh, sure!" she said, happy to be of help. Problem solved: she pranced off to the bathroom to grab him a towel, he wrapped it around himself under the blanket, and a minute later, up came a receptionist with a key, whom they were both glad to see. "I could walk you back around if you want," Bella offered Zack. Very tired and just wanting to go back to bed, Zack didn't exactly see the point of that, but, "Well...if you want," he said. So making sure she had her own key, Bella and the two of them headed back around to 207. Once inside, Zack held the towel with one hand and flipped open his wallet for the receptionist with the other. "There's all my ID," he said. "Birth certificate, license, debit, credit, everything." Satisfied that all was as should be then, the receptionist nodded. "All right then, have a good night, sir, and enjoy the rest of your stay," he said. "And please do keep your key with you at all times." And he and Bella were alone together again. Zachary kind of wanted to say something to him about the timing of their fire drills, but decided not to. If he'd listened that closely to them when he checked in he would have known about it, and he was just glad to be back in his room, and to have avoided a really mortifying situation. He was about to drop the towel, when he noticed that Bella was still standing behind him. "Oh, yeah, thank you for...y'know," he said to her half-heartedly. "Of course!" she said, shrugging it off with a big warm smile. "Glad to do it." Yeah. I bet. He waited a moment. She didn't exactly seem to want to leave just yet. "...Was there something else?" he eventually asked. "Oh, no, no, just, uh...just thinking that, you know, if you could...maybe use some company..." she said affably. Yours? "Uh, thank you, young lady, really, I'm sure you're a very sweet girl, but I'm just really, really not interested." Right about now he was thankful she couldn't read his mind. She did persist a little, though. "Well, I mean, if you're sure. It just kinda seemed maybe you could use a friend, and—" A "friend?" Yeah, a friend with benefits, apparently. He could see he was going to have to be firmer with her. He sighed. "Look, lady...again, yes, I am grateful for the use of your room, but...I really do not enjoy being in the presence of a...sexual...maintenance worker, or whatever you people call yourselves these days, and all of my money right now is spoken for already. I am very tired, and I have plans very early on later this morning. So please...just go away...and leave me alone. Okay?" As he waited a few seconds, he could see that her face had fallen. To him she suddenly looked terribly disappointed, almost even crushed. As for what Bella was really feeling inside, the description wasn't inaccurate. She was stung. Those words felt like a punch in the tummy. She'd just wanted to be cordial, and hospitable. She didn't particularly expect him to have sex with her or pay her, not if he didn't want to. She really just thought he might like a little companionship. After another minute, she dropped her forlorn eyes to the ground. "Okay," she whispered. She left. He waited a moment before he let the door shut completely. He sighed, now disappointed in himself for having admonished her the way he did, but at the same time, the point had to be gotten across. She hadn't seemed to want to take the hint. What else could he have... Oh, never mind, he finally decided. He wasn't lying to her about how exhausted he was. He just wanted this night behind him. He collapsed back into the bed and threw the comforter over himself. Just go to sleep, Zack...just go the hell to sleep. *** June 1st, 2:11 a.m. He couldn't go the hell to sleep. All he could do was lie awake, his mind relentlessly bugging him with all these troublesome thoughts. How much he really did want out of this overwhelming job, the dread of another uncomfy airplane ride, the realization of how much he really did desire an actual social life, the fright of considering what possibly could have happened to him being outside naked, especially if it happened to be daytime...which of course led to the guilt in the pit of his gut over the way he'd dismissed Bella from his room. He honestly didn't know what her intentions were, but...no matter what, it wouldn't have killed him to be at least a little more civil. It had been probably about an hour since he'd told her to go away, and couldn't get rid of the queasy feeling following it. Perhaps the most frustrating factor was the fact that even though he felt like he could be in a coma right now, his guilty mind, which could barely think straight, yet still would not allow him to go to sleep. And a bit later, he finally decided that he wasn't getting any sleep unless he at least went back to the girl's room to attempt to apologize. All right, so he wasn't going to sleep tonight either. He'd already practically become a total zombie; what was one more night? Clearly, there was no way he was leaving his room naked again, key or not. His only option was his work clothes. Again, he wished he hadn't neglected to bring sleepwear. Great, another wrongdoing to berate himself about. He forced himself up off the bed and started to get dressed. He didn't go straight to her room. He made a quick stop downstairs first, because he knew right adjacent to the hotel was an all-night liquor store. He thought a friendship offering might be a good idea. He bought a couple of wine coolers, and a bottle of cider just on the off chance. Next stop: room 225. At least he thought he remembered that being her room number. He certainly hoped it was. Knock, knock, knock. No answer at first. He wasn't immediately expecting one. He figured either she was asleep, or wouldn't want any company right now herself. He couldn't say he would've blamed her. He waited a few moments and knocked again, a little louder. Still nothing yet. He waited another minute. He was going to look to see if there was a doorbell anywhere, though he was pretty sure there wasn't. Yeah, no doorbells. Well, crumbs. He was almost ready to go back to his own room when the light came on inside and he heard the door click. A second and a half later, the door opened and inside stood a sleepy, drowsy-eyed, hair-tousled Bella. She was shielding her eyes from the light with her other hand. She blinked about a dozen times, trying to get things in focus. "Uh...yes?" "Hi, uh...it's me, Zack," he said hesitantly. It took a couple more seconds and eye blinks, and his name—which she hadn't heard before—didn't help, but finally she registered who he was. "Oh, hi," she yawned. She couldn't really think of much past this other than a small smile and a, "W-...uh...what's up?" Hmm...he hadn't worked out a speech beforehand, but he was able to deliver that impromptu dismissive message pretty well. Oh, just go with it, he told himself. Just be natural and honest. "I, uh, I just wanted to tell you that I'm...sorry—w-real sorry—for the, well, brutal way I told you to leave me alone before..." She automatically started to wave it off. It was a little bummer, but she didn't want him to feel bad about anything. "Oh, it's all r—" "No, no, really, please," he said, it being he this time who persisted. "I-I really feel bad about it, and it looked like I really hurt your feelings, y'know, so..." He let the current sentence trail off. Bella again said, "Ah, that's not your fault. I'm Italian. We can get emotional. And clingy." "Well, uh..." He reached into the liquor store bag. "I brought you something to try and make it up to you anyway." He showed her the coolers and the cider. Her face softened at the sight. "Oh, gosh, honey, you really shouldn't have..." she insisted. "It is okay, honest." He shrugged. "Well, I guess I could take them back," he said, starting to return them to the bag. Bella didn't want him to do that. "Oh, no, no, now I've hurt your feelings," she smiled at him, taking his wrists. "Come on, come in, come in. La mia stanza è la tua stanza, caro mio." She led him inside and went to the cupboard to get some glasses. "Go ahead, babe, sit down," she yawned. "Well, I, uh...I also don't want to keep you from getting a decent night's sleep," Zachary said sheepishly. "Oh, don't be silly! I'm up now, and besides, it wouldn't be very nice—or neighborly—of me to turn down your lovely gift." She sat with him, putting the glasses down, and he started to open one of the bottles. She just remembered something. "Wait a sec," she said. "I thought you told me all your money was spoken for." "Well, yeah, technically, my money is, but I've got credit out the yin-yang, so..." "Aw, well, this is a really lovely gesture. Thank you, uh..." "Zachary. Zachary Harris. You can call me Zack." "Zack. Right. I'm Bella. Bella Moretti." "I know; I heard you on the phone," he said, indicating behind him to the phone she had used to call down to the front desk. "Oh, right," she chuckled. They let a few moments of silence pass, then— "I hope I'm not gonna screw up your plans," she said. "Well...whether they end up screwed up or not, those particular kinds of plans have started mattering less and less to me lately." "Really?...Can I ask why?" "Oh...my profession...is...a mess," Zack admitted. "An 'international research consultant,' they call me, but that's really just a fancy name for getting on a plane for five hours every other day to sit down and talk with some business venture in another country for five minutes, then back on the plane for five hours again. 'S gotten so beyond old." "I'm sorry to hear it. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'd love to have a job like that," Bella replied. Zack's first thought upon hearing this was, I'll bet you would, but he forced himself not to say that, or to make any kind of facial expression to indicate it. The truth was, he and those of his ilk had always snobbishly looked down on prostitutes and their ilk, and their way of eking out a living. But he found himself becoming surprised by this girl. She had to be something like ten years younger than he, and she might have been a sex worker, but she genuinely wasn't what he expected. Somehow, she didn't quite...look like a pro; her face, especially her eyes, had sort of a...a wholesome comfort about them. Now that she wasn't wearing any makeup or her flashy skirt, she looked like...a "normal person," were the first words that popped into his mind. But then he asked himself, well, what's "normal?" Who am I to draw the line at what's and what's not "normal?" Bella was going on, continuing her thought. "But unfortunately for me, first off, not all of us can be very academically gifted. And if you don't have a college degree, your options are a little limited. And before I go any further, Zack, can I please just tell you that, honest to goodness, I wasn't really trying to get in your pants before. Now, I mean, if you'd wanted to, that'd be one thing, but I could tell you obviously didn't. But that's okay. Really. Believe me, I'm telling you the truth," she said, laying her hand on his. "I sincerely just thought you could use a little friendly company." He waited a moment, and nodded. "I believe you." She pushed her weak facial muscles up into a smile. "I'm really glad you do." "I mean, though, I guess...I guess, y'know, you could see how someone would get the impression that, uh...that you..." She knew where he was going with this. "I know, Zack, I know. You're right...I'm a hooker. And a whore." "I never said you were a who—" She raised her hand again. "No, no, really, it's all right, Zack, it is. Honest. I've come to terms with it. In this world, if you're a girl, and you happen to be that exceptionally sexual a person, you're automatically a slut and a whore. It's incredibly unfair, but..." She shrugged. "...it's just the way it is." She took a swig and a turn for the solemn. "See, the...the thing the world doesn't understand about us, but I wish it did, is that..." She took another swig. "Y'know, I'll be the first to say it: yes, sex can be wonderful. It can be beautiful, spiritual, intimate and magical—if you let it be. And I genuinely like it. Really. And I accept money for it because...well...it's the only thing I can do. Some of us were shoved into this line of work, and we didn't have a say in it. I don't have any big skills or smarts or anything, sex is all I know, and it's all I'm good at, and...and I have to eat. But hookers are...well, we're still human too. We need love like anybody else. We need to be able to give it and receive it, just as much as your average non-sexual person. We need to know someone cares about us too. "Oh, and the other thing that's misunderstood about us," she continued, briefly rising from her chair to open the chest of drawers beside the bed and remove some documentation, "Is the myth or the insinuation that we're all 'carriers,' when in reality, we go to the clinic all the time. Look, see?" She showed him as she resumed her seat. "In my active time I get myself checked out at least once every couple of weeks. That's another misconception about us, that we're all filthy, or infectious, but the majority of us are actually perfectly healthy and safe." She paused for another drink. "Believe me, Zack, this is far from my dream job. But it can actually be nice; sometimes you meet a really sweet guy who overlooks the fact that you have sex for a living, and can give you something meaningful. I mean, yes, a lot of guys, it's just bing-bang-boom, and you're done. But you'd be surprised at how many guys I meet that actually want to talk to me and share their feelings with me in a way they can't with someone else. I sure as hell was. Apparently, we're good listeners, not just good lays. I like that. It makes me feel special—and in a nice way. But Zack, take my word for it, if I had a way out of this, and I could make a living doing something more like what you do...I'd go for it." Zachary tossed out a small sigh, having absorbed all this. "Hm. How ironic," he remarked. "So, it seems that I'd be happier without the job that I'm in...and you'd be happier without the job that you're in." "Yeah, but, I don't know about you, but in my case, I'd also be broke," added Bella. "Probably homeless, too." "You're kidding," said Zack. "You don't have anywhere to live? You just stay in hotel rooms like this?" "For the most part...pretty much, yeah." "Oh, geez, I'm sorry to hear that," Zack commiserated. "If there's anyone who knows how old staying in hotels can get, it's yours truly. One night here, next night on another side of the globe...I'm lucky if I get to sleep in my own bed three times a week, or spend an entirety of one day in my own house. After a while you really find out what they mean by saying, 'There's no place like home.'" Bella smiled at him. "'S nice to be able to confide in someone who gets it." Her smile momentarily silenced him as he studied its nuances. The dimples, creases and accentuations stretching her lips into the smile were subtle, but simply because she was between periods of slumber. Gentle as her eyes naturally were to begin with, they were softened more still by her giggle lines and her half-closed lids. He chuckled in spite of himself. "Do you know where I'm supposed to be three hours from now?" "No, where?" "On a plane to Oslo." "Wow!" Bella exclaimed. "Thank God you're not flying the plane!" She giggled for a moment, then her expression turned serious and she looked back at him. "You're not, are you?" "Heh! Uh, no." "Can I ask you a question?" she queried. "Well, apparently so; I believe you just did, but go ahead." Bella took a second to sheepishly shut her eyes and silently chortle. She proceeded to ask, "What do you really, really want?" Zachary wasn't ready for a question just that profound. He thought a minute. "Well, geez...'s a pretty tricky question." "Not if you go with your gut," said Bella. "If you just blurt out the first thing that comes into your mind, it's completely honest. Whether it's something you just want right now, or for the rest of your life. It doesn't matter if it's a visit to the zoo, a bubble bath, an oatmeal raisin cookie, or a hand job; the important thing is that you know what your heart desires, and you pursue it. It's the real path to happiness and fulfillment. It's such an obvious thing, most people aren't able to see it even when it's right in front of their noses. So this time, don't think about it, Zack, just spit it right out: what...do you really...want?" "Freedom," he answered automatically. She gave him a clap of the hands. "Goody! There y'go! See? An honest gut reaction. Now tell me more. Freedom from your work?" "From...everything," he briefly elaborated. He paused again for another sip. "...Yes?" she prompted. She made a circular hand gesture, urging him to continue. Zack hesitated, unsure of exactly how to go on. He always chose his words very carefully. "It's...it's-it's more than just my work," he said. "Well, in a way it's my work—mainly because of my job, it feels like I've systematically locked myself in this prison of isolation, of-of friendlessness...celibacy, tedium, monotony. I've just got one friend at work, Dan, sometimes it feels like he's the only reason I'm not going completely crackers while I'm there..." Hooked He paused once again. But Bella could tell he wanted to say more, so she wordlessly motioned for him to proceed. "And, uh...well, I haven't spoken to my family in years...I can't remember the last time I had a meaningful date, or anything close to it, really. In fact, this is probably the most...intimate conversation I've had with a woman, or...anyone, really, in a long time. And you'd have to be the most...lifelike girl I've met in...in...I don't even know how long." "Oh, I'm sure that's not true." "Ohhh, I know better, and I'm sure it is." "Wow," she repeated. "I hope you're at least looking after yourself, uh...y'know, sexually." "Well, if you can call it that," Zack shrugged. "But at this point, again, only so I don't go freaking insane. If I wasn't so brain-dead, that would be my only source of comfort or pleasure." "Geez, I'm sorry. You poor guy," Bella sympathized. "Yeah...so, basically, life is...well, mindblowingly dull as hell, put it frankly, and..." He took a deep drink. "That'd be my personal prison from which I'm in such desire of said freedom." "Well, honey, at the risk of sounding a little cold, why don't you just quit?" she asked. "I know I have no right to make your decisions for you, but, that's not healthy! I mean, I may not have the details of your entire life laid out in front of me, but from the way it sounds, you're just punishing yourself. And that hurts my heart." "Don't think I haven't considered it," he swigged again. "Sometimes I think I'm not gonna make it through another day of it." "Then why put yourself through it?" Bella asked, becoming more adamant. "Why torture yourself like that? You deserve to have some fun! It definitely sounds like you've earned it." A little silence elapsed as they downed a few more ounces. "Maybe you're right," Zachary said finally. "There you go." "I guess I never saw it as a real option before," he mused. "But I...I could just quit, couldn't I?" He took another drink. "But I-I would have to give them at least two weeks' notice, that's the crummy part." "Would you?" she asked. "Just to play devil's advocate, humor me. I'm not saying I recommend it, but hypothetically, worst case scenario, what's the most they could do to you if you didn't give any notice?" "Well..." Gulp. "They could see to it that I never got another job in this city again." "Okay," she replied. "Well, leaving aside for a moment the possibility of just relocating, are you in any financial trouble?" "No, not really, as a matter of fact, just the opposite. I'm pretty comfortable, actually." "Oh, good, all right, good," she commented. "And again, worst case scenario, if you did have to get a job somewhere else, would it be that difficult?" Another pause as he considered the situation. "In theory...probably not," he said. "I mean, I might have to settle for making a little less money, but—" Bella jumped in. "But that's a tiny price to pay when you think about what you could have!" she said. She put down the glass and took his hands. "You could work forty hours a week and sleep eight hours a night like a regular person! You could go out and actually do stuff! You could make new friends, and you wouldn't have to sit in a hotel room at...at...wh-whatever time it is right now, worried about making a plane to Oslo in three hours!" Enough of the wine had been consumed that both their minds had started to become a bit flighty. But Zachary could still tell that what Bella was saying was making a lot of sense. Maybe it was a good thing he'd gotten the wine. Maybe it was just the thing he'd needed to loosen up a little and bring up his nerve to just...to just... ...It did still seem like a risky and rash move, he told her. She nodded, letting go of his hands. "I know...I know," she agreed. "I guess I'm just getting a little excited. But the truth is...well..." It was her turn to hesitate and his to urge her to go on. "You know what I do to make my 'living,'" she said, finger-quoting, "But...you know what I wanted to do when I was little?" He shook his head. She took another drink. "...I wanted to be a...a n-..." Suddenly she couldn't finish the sentence. She downed some more. "Promise me you won't laugh." "All right, I promise," he said. "'Kay." She closed her eyes, took a breath and said, "...I wanted to be a nanny." Eyes still shut, she gave a small wince. Zack's facial muscles didn't move. "Why would I laugh at that?" he asked. She peeked at him through her lashes. "You don't think that's...kinda silly? Given what I'm...y'know...doing now?" He shrugged. "I dunno...kinda sounded to me like you didn't exactly go into your, uh...line of work, of your own volition, and...besides, why should one thing have to have anything to do with the other?" Bella's heart warmed up. She smiled tenderly at him. "That might be the sweetest thing anybody's ever said to me," she told him. Her voice even came close to cracking in the midst of the sentiment. Zack finished his swallow, raising his eyebrows. "Haven't been treated like a princess your whole life?" "Well, unless being treated like a princess means being orphaned at age nine, having your so-called best friend steal the love of your life at age eighteen, and being spat on and smacked in the face when you don't make enough money at age twenty-seven...then no, I'm not exactly royalty," she confessed. Zack looked at her worriedly. "They don't actually...do that, do they?" She chuckled bitterly. "Hon, why do you think I stay in hotels all the time? It makes it harder to track me down and abuse me." He suddenly realized that there was more going on here than met the eye. "My God, I..." He stammered, shaking his head. "I'm so sorry, I...really had no idea...you poor girl." Bella shook her own head. "Oh, you're fine. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dumped all that out on you. You didn't need to hear that." She tossed down the entirety of the wine left in her glass and started pouring herself some more. He watched her refilling the glass, silently feeling guilt build up on him and eat away at him from inside for the things he had thought about her earlier that evening. But almost as if reading his mind, Bella quickly added, "Oh, but don't worry, Zack, really. Like I said, I'm used to it." Zack was about to ask how exactly the hell one gets used to such a routine, but Bella continued again. "I just wish I could have been a nanny instead. I actually haven't told too many people this before, but...I've always had this desire and instinct inside of me, almost even a compulsion, to just...take care of people. And be a sort of...mother figure. I've always looked after everyone's well-being, ever since I was a little girl. I can't help it; sometimes I'm hardly even aware I'm doing it." She paused to sigh and take a sip. "All I've wanted to be's a nanny. Or a nurse, either one." "Well..." said Zachary, "I hope I'm not stepping out of line here, but...what's stopping you? You're still a very young lady, with a lot of life ahead of you...well, unless perhaps you keep smoking those cigarettes." "Oh," she scoffed. "Don't even worry about those, they're harmless. Nicotine-free, tobacco-free," she assured him. "They might as well be candy cigarettes. We're supposed to smoke them 'cause it makes us look...'hot' or something. Personally, I think it makes us look stupid." Zack chuckled. "Well...let the record show, you said it." "But that's why it makes me feel good when a guy wants to share himself with me emotionally, not just in the hay," Bella said. "It's okay enough to be able to do what I do. But, on the rare occasion when I get to turn somebody's bad day around, and put a real smile on their face, that's what really makes my day." When she finished her speech, she again downed what was left in her glass. "Oh, gosh!" she said. "That's some good stuff you brought! You really know your wine." Zack just gazed at her for a few minutes. Something about the way she tilted her head to swill the wine back and then leaned forward again to return the glass to the table reached inside him and gave a little squeeze. Already mind-numbingly long as it had been since he'd had anything resembling a date withany sort of woman—comely or not, intriguing or not, alive or not—sitting here with this younger girl, sharing wine and conversation with her, he found something happening to him. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the soft gentle lighting of the table lamp above them, maybe it was his already compromised faculties complemented by the very late-night, early-twilight hour. Maybe it was all of it. But whatever it was, Zachary Harris was finding himself drawn to this young lady, a person whom he wouldn't go near a scant six hours ago. A growing feeling of affection was materializing within him. He was starting to remember how really nice it could be to just spend a little time with a really nice girl. He didn't anticipate that Bella was feeling the same way, but had he, he wouldn't have been far off. Actually, what Bella was wishing most right now was that she had a flower to give him. The very first time Bella found out a boy liked her (though they were at the time a little too young to think of each other as more than friends), he'd told her so by picking her a flower. It was the prettiest flower she'd ever seen or would ever see in her life. It was just one daisy in a yard full of them, but to Bella, it was the most special thing in the world. She held it to her torso and let it literally touch her heart. Ever since, the gesture had maintained a magnificent significance in her, and remained to day her favorite, most heartfelt way to express her devotion and fondness to one she liked. Zack wasn't the only one becoming fuzzy taking in the vision sitting across the table. In the faint artificial light, his eyes looked somewhere between green and hazel to her. He had a chiseled face and a strong jawline, adorned currently with a five o'clock shadow on Daylight Savings Time. His hair was thick, dark, straight and trim. His hands were pretty strong, she could tell...and sizable...which made her heart undeniably speed up just half a beat. Her eyes continued scanning him, going south, examining the give with which his suit hung casually on him. At last, her eyes nestled in between his thighs and she remembered the peep she'd copped at his nakedness when he jumped under her bed covers. Tingle, tingle. She hadn't any need to worry had she known where Zachary's eyes had settled in, at least for the moment. The room had fallen silent for a few minutes as they began to slowly, very slowly mentally undress one another, each wondering and hoping the other was feeling at least somewhat the same. Less than a third of only one of the bottles was left, and indeed the wine had done its duty. Zack abruptly blinked and gave his head a quick shake. "Whew!...Is it getting a little warm in here?" he asked, reaching to unbutton the top button on his dress shirt. "Uh, yeah," chuckled Bella, giving her forehead a wipe with one hand and airing out her nightgown with the other. He motioned to the remainder of the wine. "Shall we just kill off the bottle?" "Sounds good to me..." They distributed what was left equally in both glasses. "It tastes even better now than it did when you opened it," she added, "Although, tell you the truth, I'm starting to get a little more...hungry, than thirsty, now." For one instant Zachary looked back at her to say, "Oh yeah? Well, maybe I could take you out for a little breakf—..." She laid her hand on his. He looked back up from the glasses to see her gazing into his eyes with a smoky, sultry expression on her face. It didn't take long for him to grasp the picture after that. "Oh..." he nodded in revelation. Bella nodded back at him in response, her facial muscles curling up into an inviting half-smile. Both could tell their minds were each heading in the same direction. Feeling that the situation was adequately green-lit, Bella took Zack's hand, rose from her chair and urged him up from his. Holding on to him, she led him to the same bed under which he'd taken quick shelter in his nude state just a couple of hours before. They sat on the bed together. Zack was unsure exactly of how he was to begin things, having done nothing like this in eons, but he needn't have worried. Bella could handle it. She gingerly unbuttoned the second-to-top button on his shirt. He unexpectedly fondled her breast, which gave her a little start. "Ooh!" She jumped. Looking back up at him with a smile, she whispered, "Not just yet, honey. Soon, but not just yet. You'll know when." "Sorry," he replied. "Haven't made love to anybody for...probably a decade or two." "Good God," she whispered back incredulously, shaking her head as she pacingly worked her way down his shirt. "Well, I suppose that lowers the bar for me, so to speak, but if I waited a decade, I'd be drooling on myself. I'd lose my ever-loving mind." "Believe me, it's felt like my mind's turned up in the lost-and-found dozens of times." She reached the bottom of his shirt, opened it and caressed his bare chest. He closed his eyes. "Mm, that's pretty nice," he commented. She leaned up to his face until their lips were less than two inches apart. "It's gonna get much nicer," she assured him. She proceeded to lay a warm, establishing kiss upon him, and they both felt their hearts ooze and radiate heat throughout their bodies. When they broke from it, they both opened their eyes to see their reflections in each other's. Zachary leaned towards her to kiss again, but she placed a finger to his lips. "Not just yet," she repeated cordially. Zack was having a little trouble fully understanding. "Uh...why exactly not just yet again?" he wished to know. She took his hands again, caressing the veins on the tops of them with her thumbs. "Just trust me, my angel," she told him. "Just go with me on it. I'm the expert—not to sound egoistic, but if you want this to be really nice, as nice as it can be, then just sit back and let me orchestrate it." He agreed to trust her. His shirt was removed and dropped to the floor. She laid down, then gently pulled him higher up on the mattress with her. She blinked generous doses of seduction into him with her eyelids. One arm around his back, her other hand stroked him from the chin up the cheek to his temple, and through his hair, down to his shoulder, to continue exploring him. She nuzzled the other side of his face with her nose and her cheek. "Now, another kiss," she mouthed in his ear. This time as they locked lips and the kiss ran its course, they felt each other's bodies react, which in turn mirrored its own effect. She arched her leg over his, slipped her bare foot under his trouser ankle and massaged his leg with her toes and her sole. They kept this kiss going, which took them off the metaphorical ground. Bella took Zack's hand and put it to task, stroking her own ear and hair with it a few times, after which Zack got the idea and continued on his own. Bella's wandering hand floated down his body until her fingertips jumped the hem of his pants and touched his waist, then his outer thigh, and Zack's heart jumped, thinking she was going to start groping him right at that moment, but she didn't just immediately. She detached her lips from his and gasped out the words, "You can take them off now." Zachary had been patiently waiting for the okay on that. He eagerly lifted himself up from the mattress, undid the trousers, started to slide them down, then looked back to her for a second. "Briefs too?" "Let's just stick with the pants for right now," she advised. "Don't worry, we'll get to them." He did as Bella said. At the same time, she got up on her knees and pulled her nightgown off, refreshingly reducing the both of them to only their underwear. Zack's briefs hugged him around the waist a little tighter and tighter each second as he watched her take the nightgown off. He delighted in the sight of her removal of the nightgown, as she pulled it over her head and into something of a stretching pose for a moment, the taut flesh of her torso. She lowered herself back down on top of him, as they pushed into one initial, mutual dry hump together. She brought herself all the way down, pushing his erection up against her, triggering another twinge of arousal inside her, and a few small droplets of moisture dampened her panties. They gasped through the next kiss, conforming the able parts of themselves to one another. Bella's breasts, still suspended in her bra, rested comfortably on Zack's chest, raising her body up an inch, and down an inch with each heavy breath. Her hair spilled around him on all sides, burying his face under her own. He thought he could detect a faint touch of perfume she'd ostensibly been wearing earlier that evening along with her makeup and street outfit. Zachary hadn't any scent to offer other than his own natural one, but that was all too okay with Bella. She greatly appreciated a gentleman's natural pheromones. Both bodies grew tighter, warmer, steamier, sweatier, more sensitized. Once an only approximable thirty minutes had passed, Bella silently signaled to Zack it was time to finally set their bodies entirely free. Sixty seconds later, the undergarments having joined the remainder of their outfits on the floor, their sweet carnal activity resumed. Their hands roved over every spare inch; no centimeter of non-genital flesh was passed by ungraced, although Zack was losing his uphill battle to refrain from touching her naked breasts until she gave permission. But he was also wondering how much she would really mind if he did take matters, quite literally, into his own hands. He decided to engage in subterfuge. He slid his palm up her belly and pretended not to know he was about to fondle her again, now braless. He held his breath, and his hand made contact. To his surprise and delight, the touch made her shiver with excitement, vocalizing a kiss-muffled sigh of enchantment, and she immediately grabbed his other hand and clamped it over her other breast as well, encouraging him to grope them with loving squeezes. He gladly obeyed. Their tongues danced in merriment as the intensity heightened and brightened. Once she had Zachary's hands right where she wanted them, Bella slipped her own right hand around Zack's back, slipped down low enough and affectionately squeezed his ass. His legs lay stretched out, locked, unbendable, toes flexed to their allowed extent. Bella had both of her slender gams wrapped tight around Zack's right, pumping on it until his circulation almost cut off. Finally, when she decided the moment was right, Bella released his leg and rolled over on the mattress to his side. She rose to her knees. He wasn't sure whether to follow or not, until Bella placed a gentle palm on his chest. "Stay put, angel," she grinned down at him dominantly. As Zachary remained lying still on his back, Bella settled to her side, pointing the opposite direction from him, putting them very close to a sixty-nine position. She picked up his hand and kissed each of its five digits. With her free hand, she proceeded to part her labia. The next instruction Bella gave Zack was, "And now...it's time to stroke the kitty." She guided his hand between the lightly manicured lips of her hungry, patiently waiting pussy. She cozily granted him clearance to begin caressing her yearning womanhood, and finally set his fledgling hand free to its mission. Eventually on his own, he continued the pattern she had taught him. Hooked Letting herself down on her back, she nodded in sweet delight, hugging his midsection with her calf. "That's it, hon..." she praised him. "Up and down. Just like that. Up and down. Up and doOHHHGOD!!" He had again given her a start unbeknownst to her. He had taken the liberty of bringing his thumb to the forefront of his manual task, lightly brushing, lightly tickling her clit. The sensation caught her completely off guard. The activation of one of the sweetest of the girl's sweet spots grabbed hold of her mental powers and spun them out of control. Her back arched, and her head hit the mattress, rolling back, fluttering her eyes. The power of her authority had been somewhat compromised by Zack's stroke. He had unintentionally located one of her most vulnerable weak spots, forcing her to melt in his hands like putty upon contact. For a spell, she forgot about the rest of the act and the following movements, drowning in that momentary delirium. When Zachary saw this reaction, he naturally could see he was doing somethingveryright, and so he of course kept going. Bella had not yet told him about this weakness of hers, rendering her only more and more powerless the righter the mood was, and he could tell he was somehow making her quite happy. In turn, he became happy, and her sexual frenzy soon hardened him to a full erection. After about twenty or thirty seconds, however, the part of Bella's brain that resisted the temptation to greedily gobble up all the passion and dizzy pleasure for herself intervened. It reminded her that she had mentally scripted—or at least outlined—the structure of this activity, and while she was open to creative outside ideas, she wanted Zachary to be able to experience ecstasy the likes of what she was experiencing. So she forced herself to push his hand away. "Oka-...o-...o-okay, honey, stop...just sto—babe, stop, just...for right now, stop...Zack..." she breathed. She took a deep inhalation, sat back up, and focused her vision. "Oh my God...okay, well, I think it's clear you now know how to get my attention," she remarked. "But I do still want to makeyou feel heaven like you've never felt before too, so we're gonna have to hold off on the clit for just right now." It was a bit disappointing, Zack highly enjoying watching her writhe and quiver the way she was. But she explained how if she made herself wait longer to finally come, she would be all the more eager to reciprocate, hopefully prolonging the act until the final result proved forever unforgettable. "But aren't women able to have multiple orgasms?" he asked. "Yes, but usually, for both men and women, the orgasm gets better the longer the buildup lasts..." she explicated, "...and the closer you push yourself to the edge before you bring yourself back again. It's called 'edging.' Y'know, just think about it, if you just rub it out for five minutes and make yourself come right away, it'll feel, well, kinda nice...not incredible. But if you give it to yourself and stop right before you come, and you do that over and over again, then when you finally do, it's gonna feelamazing; it's gonna feel like a fucking lustquake. Those, the really spectacular ones, I like to call them 'mega-gasms.'" She paused for a breath. "So even though women can have multiple orgasms, it doesn't always mean we want them all." Zack looked puzzled. He couldn't imagine not wanting every single orgasm one could possibly grab ahold of, and then some. "Trust me, babe," she said, "Your dick might not be able to fire off ten times in a row, but by the time we're finished, working up the energy to do it again will be the last thing on your mind." She knew it sounded immodest, but she also knew how long it had been since Zachary had been with a woman, and, facing it, Bella Theresa Moretti was far from an amateur in this department. She returned his hand to her now vibing wet cunt and he resumed petting her kitty, as she in turn started to foreplay-fondle him, from his foot up to his thigh. His penis had dripped a drop or two of its own lubrication, which she noticed starting to run down the side of the shaft. It was a lovely sight to her eager eyes. "Zack, keep stroking me, hon," she instructed him as she leaned up beside him. Her hands tenderly rubbing his leg and his waist, she slipped out her tongue and lovingly slicked the pre-come off his cock. He gave a moan and a shiver himself. "That's it," she said, returning her voice to whisper-level, tasting the pre-come. She licked her own lips inside and out to generate more liquid, wet her fingers with it, and started petting his cock, smearing it with her saliva. "That's it, honey," she repeated, barely audibly. "Ehhhhhxcellent..." she exhaled in ecstasy. They mutually fondled each other, producing more heat and more moisture. Bella soon added the touch of sucking on the head of his cock, which made him emit a groan that filled her with such joy she just lip-hugged him harder. When she finally decided she was ready—or rather, when her vagina finally decided she was ready—she turned back to him. "Honey," she called over to him, just loud enough for him to hear, "It's time for the pièce de résistance." Zack gazed up at her to hear her tell him, "My dear, we are going to orally love each other. I am going to get on top of you, and we're gonna vertically sixty-nine." He wasn't quite prepared to hear that. His eyes widened. She smiled with a nod. She pushed herself up on the mattress, arched one leg over him and sat up over his head to straddle him. "There you go...now kindly start licking that pussy, my dear," she gently ordered. He raised his head just high enough to reach, and separated her vaginal lips, and then took her hips in his hands, groping and squeezing her thighs. He delivered a first, sublime stroke of the tongue, and he heard the reward of her pleasured gasp. Starting to feel very confident and proud of himself, but trying to remind himself not to become too...well, cocky...he repeated the gesture. Soon he felt her hand on him, rubbing his erect dick. Zachary, who had practically reverted to a virgin by this point in his life, was unable to believe everything that was happening. He was tonguing a young woman's vagina, as she was simultaneously stroking his penis. He could feel her grazing his shaft with one hand while her other hand cupped his balls, rubbing them between her fingers. He thought he remembered her saying she was going to fellate him, but his attention span had shortened considerably by now. But he was correct. A few moments later, she repeated, "Keep licking, honey, go ahead," and she lowered herself further down horizontally to reach his cock with her mouth. This also eased the work for Zack, as her stretch spread her pussy wider open and enabled him to lick her without having to lean upwards very far. Finally, he experienced the heavenly warm sensation as she took him all the way into her mouth. He grabbed harder onto her thighs with an exhilarated moan and pushed his tongue up inside her as far as it could reach. The entirety of the situation had been taken up a few notches. Zack and Bella were both emanating overjoyed muffled squeals. Neither of them, not even Bella, could have fathomed how splendid and rich their passion was becoming. The essence of the thoughts running through Bella's mind was, Oh, this is the loveliest this has felt for me in a long, long time. I'm so glad you came over, Zack. That of Zack's was, My God, where the hell has this been all my life? There was just a little bit of space between the parts of their bodies that weren't pressed in contact, and they could practically feel each other's hearts pounding in their midsections. Zack felt Bella deep-throat him with a gurgle, and then slid her lips back up again, and the next thing he felt was the air tickling his wet cock. He suddenly realized he had just been licking the slit of Bella's cunt, but he hadn't been trying to reach her clit. He wondered if he could from his position. He tilted his head forwards, let go of her thighs, spread her labia apart a little further from his mouth, leaned into her and pushed his tongue out to see how far it would go. To his surprise, he reached it. It was warm and swollen. And he knew he reached it, because he felt Bella's mouth pop off his dick and let out a shout of inflamed desire. He almost panicked reflexively, momentarily afraid he'd hurt her, until she added a, "Fuck, yes! God, yes, my angel, YES!!" Ah, so he had again cashed in on her deadly weakness. This time he barely even cared if she ceased sucking him or not. This time if she told him to stop, he wasn't going to listen. He decided if this thrilled her, it thrilled him. Her reaction to it was incredibly flattering to him, and was doing wonders for his ego. Besides, he reasoned, if he made her come, there would be plenty of time for him later. The meeting coming up in just a few hours and the plane trip had completely vanished from his mind. Oslo vanished, the Norwegian partners vanished, the business project at hand vanished, everything vanished...except Bella Moretti. He suddenly realized this was no longer just about the girl's soaked, craving vagina, it was about all of her: her heart, her mind, her body, her soul. Now he understood what she'd meant when she had been describing how beautiful and intimate sex could really be if only it was allowed to be. He was feeling an amazing closeness to her that was foreign to him as he'd never felt it with a woman before, but yet was familiar at the same time, as he realized it was something he'd always wanted in his life. He started to wonder if she was feeling the same way. But then he reminded himself she had infinitely more experience engaging in this kind of thing, and that led him towards the conclusion that she probably didn't become as emotionally attached. Little did he know how wrong he was. He abruptly decided it perhaps wasn't a great idea to keep thinking about this right now. He concentrated on Bella's pussy, licking up and down, and stroking her with his fingers where he wasn't licking. He'd deal with all of this later. Right now, he wanted to just relish the utter joy he was bringing the girl, and so he continued right on licking and slicking and flicking her ladyhood, slit to clit. At least he could form cohesive thoughts. Bella was lying over Zack's body, gripping onto his thighs, going wild. Each tongue-lashing he administered lit off another in a show of fireworks going on inside her body and brain. She was incapable of thinking straight; every time she tried, against her slid his tongue again, and out she flipped again. Oh my good God...honey dear...you are gonna get soooo many flowers. Finally, she mentally pushed her way through the madness to sputter, "Oh, God, I...I can't...I can't take it an-...anymore! Plea-..." Even if she was begging him to stop, he couldn't. He was too engrossed. This was too captivating to just stop. Her shouts grew into falsetto shrieks. She could have woken up occupants of rooms nearby them, but didn't care one jot. She was careening up the Climax Expressway, faster and faster, until she was about to hit the no-return point. There wasn't any turning back now. If Zack suddenly stopped licking or fingering her, for any reason, her vagina would cry out for contact to release her. Her own pussy would magnetically yank her hand down there itself, bypassing her brain completely, to finish herself off. But he would have been insane to have stopped. He was so inexperienced at this, he had to see what would happen next. He could see a more translucent, whiter fluid secreting from inside of her now. Girl-come? he had to figure. His knowledge on it was fuzzy. He wasn't sure he'd had any idea such a thing existed. That is so cool! he mentally exclaimed. Women's bodies are amazing! He was indeed finding her intoxicatingly fascinating. So intrigued was he now by this new development, he almost missed her actual monstrous hell of an orgasm, which finally hit just a few seconds later. But she didn't allow him to miss it. She gripped onto his thighs even harder and squeezed them more powerfully than he'd ever had any part of his body squeezed in his life. It wasn't really quite hard enough to wound or injure him, but definitely more than enough to grab his attention. "AHHH! GOD!! F-...FUCK!! OHHHHOLYFUCKING..." She drew out the final exultation in one long unfinished word string. She hadn't exactly finished the thought, but it was okay; he got the gist. She unsteadily tried to raise herself from her lying position on top of Zack, but tilted to a perpendicular angle and immediately fell back down, floating on seventh Heaven's ninth cloud. She wasn't exactly lying on top of him anymore, just her right leg draped over his chest. Having trouble believing she'd really mind, he lifted her leg from his body and rolled out from under it, letting it drop on the bed. He sat up and looked down at her. She was only half-conscious, her quivering breasts heaving in her hard breaths. Bella hadn't exactly planned things quite this way. She had more of a mutual situation in mind, both the fellatio and cunnilingus being shared in an equal declaration of devotion. But she also hadn't counted on Zack's wandering tongue exploring her deathly delicate clitoris. She didn't see that coming. That was more than she'd bargained for. Still, neither of them regretted it one iota. Bella wasn't thinking about any of this as her virtually numb body absorbed the spongy softness of the mattress. The only thoughts her mind would allow were, Afterglow...sweetness, beauty, wonderment, heaven, divinity, nirvana, joy, fantasia...as well as peace, tranquility, stillness, serenity...happiness... Zack's penis wasn't standing at a completely full erection anymore, though it was still three-quarters stiff. He looked at the sleeping creature in the bed. Her body was glistening. Her vagina was reddened, puffy and moist. Her eyes had fluttered closed. Her hair was randomly stuck to her forehead. Her mouth was open, a trail of salivation trickling down to her chin. He'd never seen anything so beautiful in his life. At the same time, he was still unquestionably aroused, so he got to his feet and staggered into the bathroom, where he retrieved two white towels. The hotel staff might be a little nonplussed, he thought, but all they would have to do's launder them, and he thought it probably also wasn't the first time it had happened. He returned to the ample-sized bed, where he laid one of the towels flat on the bed, half-sat and half-laid down on top of it himself, and placed the other over himself, closing the face of the towel sandwich. He was tempted to slip himself inside and penetrate her, but he didn't, among other reasons feeling too much like he'd have been overstaying his welcome, so to speak. He positioned himself at an angle where he could relax and be comfortable, and also take in Bella's sleeping body as he jerked. Being no sort of contortionist, he couldn't achieve self-fellatio, so he had become a pro at traditional masturbation. The only difference right now was, he had an actual, real, living, breathing (though unconscious) naked woman lying not a foot away from him. He could touch her, but he didn't want to disturb her. He tried to shake the bed as little as possible stroking himself. The strokes were long, slow and thorough. As a habit he usually jerked off a little more rapidly, but several factors played into the extra time he was taking. He wanted to savor this evening/night/twilight as long as it lasted, just in case one such didn't come again. The excitement of thrilling Bella the way he had had drained him of some energy. His body was still naturally tuckered, despite his zombie-like lifestyle. But most importantly of all reasons, he went at this pace because it felt right. Appropriate. And good. The tender fondness he was feeling towards her right at this time aligned itself in his mind with a more gentle, easy masturbatory technique. He kept about as tight a grip on himself as he normally did, only the speed was altered. He gazed at her rising and falling breasts, and a bit more blood left his legs. He lowered his eyes to the light patch of fluff transparently covering the cunt and the clit he had licked and licked until he'd driven the sweet girl out of her mind. His dick hardened more, and more, until fully erect once again. He knew it wouldn't take very long, and he was right. After eleven and a half minutes spent with his hand on his cock, both towels were christened with his essence. It went without saying that the intensity of his own orgasm knocked him out cold right along with Bella. He didn't think it could have compared to hers, but her curvy physique, in all its naked glory, gave him a tremendous arousal and release. He did have to fight himself a bit to resist the allure of her pussy while pleasuring himself, but he did. As he dropped to sleep right along with Bella, no longer sure if this was a dream or not, the only thought running through his sensate mind was— "Getting lucky" doesn't even come close to covering it. *** June 1st, 8:18 a.m. The sun had been up for roughly two hours. It peeked into room 225 just a little at first, then eased all the way in. Bella and Zachary both still needed a little more slumber before their minds would allow sunlight to awaken them. Eventually, Bella was the first to wake up, understandably, as she'd collected more sleep in the previous ten hours than Zack had. When her eyes opened and told her brain the absolute first thing she saw was her naked body and the body of a naked man in her bed, with an off-white-stained towel half-kicked over his leg, a familiar queasy feeling welled up in the pit of her tummy. She didn't normally like it when guys stayed over. But it took only seven seconds for her to recall the details of the last six hours. "Oh!" she wordlessly sighed in relief, catching her breath in her chest. "Thank God," she whispered. For once, she'd been with a man she genuinely liked, and from whom she would refuse any money. And she had never been so happy not to be paid. She sat up, gazing with adoration down at Zack. Sweet little lamb, she thought, caressing the hair around his ear. Needs all the sleep he can get. She'd have preferred to float right off the mattress to reduce the chances of waking him to nil. But she slipped off the bed without waking him and pulled the nightgown up and over her head. She popped the back of her hair out of the nightgown and let it down her shoulders. She adjourned to the bathroom. Five reviving minutes and one very invigorating yawn later, a cheerful Bella Moretti returned to her room. She gazed down at the gentleman with whom she'd spent this fateful twilight. When she'd first propositioned him on her Wellings-Cherrywood corner, she didn't have time to appreciate the nuances of all his features. She could have mentally come up with flattering adjectival descriptions for the varied enjoyable parts of his body, but she'd rather just drink them in and enjoy them. She visually slid down to his penis and balls. She felt a twinge of bittersweet remorse when she remembered that she hadn't gotten to orally please him to a beautiful climax, but then she also remembered she didn't have much of a choice once he'd brought her clitoris into the mix. She closed her eyes and blushed when she soaked up the fact that he'd inadvertently located and triggered her one really big, really fragile weakness. She couldn't help wondering if he had any weaknesses, whatever or wherever they might be. Hooked At the angle he lay half on his back and half on his side, his cock hung dangling over his thigh and his balls were wholly visible. Her eyes fell on them, she took in the tableau of his whole genitalia, and she remembered something. She turned, walked to the closet and knelt to look in the corner. Yup, there it was. She heard a groan. She poked her head back outside the closet and saw him slowly bringing his hands to his eyes to rub them. She looked back into the closet. She shouldn't, but...oh, she just couldn't resist. She couldn't resist, and he'd just woken up. She had to hurry. She had exactly one split second to do it. She went for it. It was part of one of her uniforms, a French maid's. She grabbed the feather duster from the corner and plucked a single feather out of it. She hastened back to the bed as quickly and quietly as she could, took a nanosecond to make sure he was awake, and...oh, she still knew she shouldn't, but...she couldn't help it. She very rapidly swirled the feather back and forth across his balls. Zack was abruptly jolted to life with a high-pitched squeal, and her face contorted into a quiet burst of laughter. He finally looked back up at her. Trying to cover her ear-to-ear smile, she guiltily waved the feather at him. "Goochie-goochie-goo," she murmured. He blinked at her a few times. She waved it again, trying to explain. "Y'know...tickle your balls with a feather, particularly balmy we-...eh..." She let it trail off. Zack didn't know how to react to what she was doing. Suddenly, Bella felt stupid. She covered her eyes. "God, I'm sorry," she mumbled. "That was so dumb. I'm-...I'm just sorry." He made his brain form thoughts and his mouth words. "...No, no," he disagreed, sitting up. "That was...uh...was kinda...fun." She sheepishly turned back to him, blushing again. "...Really?" They just stared at each other a bit. She waved the feather again with a little smirk. "You...liked that?" Zack curled his lips up into a smile. "I like you." Bella's smile started to spread back out to both ears again. Then Zachary's expression changed. "Wait a minute. Oh my God," he said panickedly, looking out the window and clearly seeing sunshine. "What time is it??" Uh-oh, she thought. "It's...about 8:30 or so..." "8:30?!" he shouted. He jumped up and started frantically looking around for his belongings. "Oh, God, I missed the flight! I missed the flight! I m-...oh, damn it! What the hell was I thinking?? Where are my clothes??" He was looking on the wrong side of the bed for them. Indeed, it was the wrong side of the bed on which he'd gotten up. And then his panic made her start to panic. She dropped the feather. "Okay, Zack, just cal-calm do-Zack? Zack, honey..." She tried to stop him and take his arm. "Honey, it's o-Zack! Calm down, babe!" He calmed down. "It's all right, it's all right," Bella said in a reassuring tone. "But I...I missed my fl—" "I know! I know, and I'm sorry!" she said. "I'm sorry, Zack, but...but..." She suddenly couldn't finish. Zachary paused long enough to throw out a sigh. "But what?" (Pause) Her voice and eyes softened. "Please don't go," she implored after a minute. He looked into her pleading eyes. He looked away next, tossing out another sigh. "I've...I've gotta g-..." Bella tried to hold on to his arm as he kept looking for his clothing. He slipped out of her hand. She abruptly got apprehensive. She put her hands on her cheeks. She looked at the hotel room door. Suddenly, she just couldn't let him walk out that door. At least... "Wait!" she shouted in the midst of his scrambling about. He stopped. "Can we...just...like...sit down for a minute and...talk about this?" she asked. He shook his head with a puzzled expression. "Talk about what?" "I don't want you to leave!" she said desperately. "Talk about what, I-I don't really know. I'm winging this! Look, after what we did last...uh, this...morning, I...I just..." She paused. "I feel...really close to you now, and..." She sighed and looked down. Well, that was out now. "...Please don't go," she finally repeated. "At least...not without taking me with you." He looked at her, a hundred thoughts running through his mind. He exhaled, trying to figure things out in his head. "Well, I mean, I...I...feel close to you too, Bella..." She looked back up at him and her eyebrows jumped. "And I...I don't really wanna leave, either, but, I..." He rubbed his forehead. Thinking she knew what was on his mind, she tried to steer him her way. "I think I know, Zack. You feel obligated to your work because you're really responsible. And you're not the kind of person who can chuck it all away just like that. But now you've done something with me that you also never thought you were the kind of person to do, and...and, now things have turned kinda topsy-turvy for you, and you're a little..." He nodded, a little surprised she could tell all this. "...A...a little shaken up, yeah." She took a few steps towards him. "You don't want to do this, do you, Zack? You told me, just last...this...y-you know when! You totally wanna quit! And so do I!" She formed her hands into fists and shouted to the ceiling, "I don't wanna be a hooker anymore!!" She dropped on her knees and put her arms around his waist. "I want a new life! I want a new home, and a new job, and a...a new everything, Zack! And now, I've decided...I want it with you!" He gazed down at her. His heartbeat was starting to accelerate, for reasons that both excited him and scared him. She stood back up. "I know how out of the blue and crazy this sounds, but, honey, we both want out! Let's...let's leave right now, and...and get on a plane, and go anywhere. Right now. I don't even care where. I just wanna go with you!" Again, he started pondering it before he answered. "Don't overthink it!" she urged him. "Let's just kick caution to the curb! Let's just get out of here! Wherever you're going, take me!" He stared at her incredulously. "But...but, we don't even know each other!" he said. "I don't care!" she insisted passionately. "We both need an escape, and I just can't say goodbye to you right now!" He tried to consider it. "B-...wh-...what if it just totally doesn't work out?" "What if it totally does? We could both have a shot at true happiness here, Zack; I don't think I could bear to just pass it up!" She was channeling her hopelessly romantic side. "Think of it, we could find someplace to go where we don't have so many expectations placed on us...where there isn't so much hustle and bustle everywhere. I mean, hell, we could go live in a little farm cottage on the prairie, for all it matters to me. Then maybe I could be a nanny, like I've always wanted, and you could...well, you could do whatever you felt like doing!" She took him by the arms. "Zack, you could finally have your freedom!" He said nothing to this. His face was a mixture of fifteen different emotions. She kept talking. "I've...I've been looking for a way out for a long time, and I...I've made a lot of bad decisions in my life, but Zack, honey, I really don't think this is one of them." She took his hands. "This is what I want! And I think it's what you want too. Do you remember what I told you la-...thi-...you know when?? The most important thing's to know what your heart desires, and go after it. The real path to happiness. Come on, Zack, be honest with me and with yourself, you're not happy with your life here like this, and I'm sure as hell not happy with mine. Think about it: twenty-four hours from now, we could be on the other side of the world. Come on, honey, let's be impulsive! Let's be crazy!" She caressed his cheek. "I know we just met last night, but I...I think..." She took a breath. "I think I really really like you, Zack." A smirk crept to his face. He was starting to be convinced. It was persuasive. Maybe it was time he did something wild like this. "We could be spontaneous." "Yes! Spontaneous!" she grinned, feeling a balloon of hope swell inside her, grabbing him in a close hug. "We could just g—" She stopped, feeling something she didn't expect to feel. She looked down to see he was still naked. And...very happy to see her. "Whoa," she remarked, looking down. She looked back up into his face in amazement. "Did...my God...Zack, honey, did I just make your dick hard, just by...saying all that stuff?" He answered by simply leaning an inch closer and pressing his manhood just a bit harder against her. "Let's do it," he whispered. She let her mouth drop open. Her heartbeat shifted gear and sped up. Her vagina lit up and ordered her to put her moves on him. "Well, uh...maybe, uh," she breathed, closing the space, pressing her breasts up against him, as she felt the back of her mouth watering. "Maybe we don't have to get outta here right this second..." She slipped her hand around his stiff manhood with a sneaky smile. "So, you, eh...you liked the feather, huh?" Goochie-goochie-goo... Hooked (audio version) Greetings, Readers! I've been wanting to make an audio version of (at least one of) my stories for a good while now, and was going to do a different one originally, but for now have settled on "Hooked." I felt the only way to get a quality recording of it being read was to read it myself, so I did—this is my own real voice—and chose a more popular story of mine, probably the most hetero-friendly and female-friendly I've written, calculating that this would be better presented in a male voice than would certain others. Although I've written scads of lesbian stories, I don't think making an audio version of one of them would be appropriate being read out loud by myself. Think about it, if you hear a lesbian story being read to you, you likely want to hear it in a woman's voice. And besides, with audio, there are no distracting typos! I'm quite glad with how this came together (except perhaps for my low, deep voice, but there's not much I can do about that), so I hope you enjoy it, and its accompanying soundtrack in the background as well. Whether or not you opt to find it on the site and read along, that's entirely up to you. And be forewarned: it's an hour and 45 minutes long in its audio entirety. Thanks, and love, Smokey * * * * * Click Here to listen: .mp3 format or .ogg format. (105 min) * * * * * Hooked by her Sexy Legs Story begins five years ago, my then wife and I visiting her parents at their home. Besides my wife's parents, also home was her younger sister, Amy. Amy was a sexy 18 year old senior in high school. She being very pretty, was of course very popular at school. She was tall, about 509, 135, blonde shoulder length hair, blue eyes, and had a models face with perky breasts. What I really noticed were her legs. They were the longest, sexiest legs I had ever seen. Several times before I had given her a ride home from track practice. She would still be wearing her short track shorts. I would get such a hard on watching her scoot in my car, sitting next to me as I drove her home. She had the longest, most sexy pair of legs I had ever seen in my life. I'm sure she knew I was ogling over her legs, as I often caught her stroking her thigh and calf muscles, usually complaining about how sore she was from running. I would drop her off at her house, and watch as she ran into the house, long, lean runners legs flexing as she ran. She sometimes asked me to come in for a drink, which I most always did. There was one memorable time when I had been invited in and was actually visiting with her parents. I noticed Amy had gone into the bathroom, showered, and came out a few minutes later. Excusing myself, I went into the bathroom to use the john. Once inside, the thought of Amy's long sexy legs again came to mind. Looking over, I saw a clothes hamper. Looking inside, I saw the very pair of track shorts Amy had been wearing. Nestled inside them were a pair of white panties. I removed them from the hamper, and placed the sweaty pair up to my nose. I could smell her female sweat, along with a slightly musky female smell, and began pulling her panties apart, inhaled her sweet musky smell for the crotch area. I had such a hard on I knew I wouldn't be able to return to continue my visit with her parents. I pulled off my own shorts, exposing my now fully erect cock, already glistening with pre-cum. Thinking that her legs and pussy had just been wearing the panties, I quickly began jerking off, and within seconds, began ejaculating into Amy's sweaty panties. I don't ever remember cumming as much before this. When I had finished, I replaced her now cum soaked panties inside her running shorts, placed both into the hamper, cleaned myself up and continued visiting with her parents. I never had an opportunity to repeat my performance, and nothing was ever mentioned by any one of my sexual indiscretion. Shift ahead five years . . . now divorced from Amy's sister . . . Driving thru town, I drove past Amy's house. She is mowing her lawn, sitting on small riding mower. She is now 22, and even more enticing that she was as a high school senior. I waved, and surprisingly, she waved me over . I pulled over in front of her house. She stopped the mower, swung her long legs off the rider, and walked up to the driver's side of my car. We hadn't really talked much since I and her sister divorced, just the usual casual waves in passing. She said hi and I meekly replied the same. She said that she had taken over her parent's house as they had moved to a country home they owned. She looked even sexier that I remember. She was now a hot babe, tanned, and wearing cutoff shorts that just covered her butt. Those legs that I had masturbated to many times were even more gorgeous than I had remembered. Amy asked me how I had been, I gave her the usual okay. She said her sister had also moved away after our divorce, and said she hadn't seen her in a few months. She could tell I was still memorized by her legs, and asked me if I wanted to come in for a cold drink. I couldn't believe my luck, and said sure. I followed her inside her house, sat down at the kitchen table. She poured me a cold beer, and one for herself. She began telling me about her college years, and that she was working at a local doctor's office. I must have been staring at her legs when she said " I see that you are still fascinated by my legs." Not knowing what to say, I embarrassedly nodded yes. She said she had always known even back in high school, that I was into her legs, and she said that she did like the effect that her legs had on me. She then asked me if I had enjoyed myself years ago. Not really knowing what was up, I asked her what she meant. She then mentioned how she had gone to do her laundry after one practice, and when she had pulled out her shorts, noticed the panties were covered with a sticky wet substance. She figured out that I was the only male who was there who would have been so perverted to smell and then cum into her panties. Thinking she was pissed and the gig was up, she surprised me by saying that it had turned her on so much, thinking that I thought her panties were sexy enough to cum in, that she gave herself the best orgasm she had ever had. She said that she also had smelled my sex on her panties, and that she kept them unwashed for years. Saying that, she moved over to me and placed a wet kiss on my lips. I eagerly returned her advances by kissing her, tongue in tongue intertwining. She asked me if I wanted the real thing to jerk off to. I again nodded yes. She stood up, pulling off her shorts, revealing her white panties. She placed her shorts on my face, asking me if they smelled familiar. I inhaled her scent again. and saw as she sat back down, and placing one of her lovely legs on each side of me, began playing with herself through her panties. She placed one finger in the middle of the crotch area, and forced the thin material inside her pussy lips. I could see her wetness come through the cotton material, and heard her moans of self pleasure. Seeing her masturbate right in front of me caused me to go instantly hard. I instinctively began rubbing my cock through my pants. Seeing me stroke my cock got Amy even more into it, and she began pushing the entire crotch area of her panties inside of her pussy. The wetness from her pussy was beginning to coat her inner thighs, and her fingers were quickly bringing her to an orgasm. She looked straight at me and said "this is for you" . She then came, exploding onto her panties and her hand. She offered me her fingers, which I eagerly licked clean. She then stood, pulled off her now drenched panties, again placing them on my face, covering my nose and mouth with them. I inhaled her feminine love juices, and began licking at them to get more of her tasty juices into my mouth. She suddenly pulled off my shorts, and my cock sprang out at her face. She asked me if I wanted to cum, and I nodded yes. She said that since I was so into her legs, she would jerk me off using what I loved the best. Saying that, she began fingering herself once again. I thought she was insatiable. Instead, she was removing her now soaked fingers and began coating my cock with her hot pussy juice. She then began rubbing my pussy juice covered cock between her calves. The feeling of her soft firm calves stroking my cock was unbelievable. She stroked my shaft with her strong legs, causing the tip of my cock to appear above her well toned legs. She saw the pre-cum on the tip of my cock, and said I was close now. She then placed another set of fingers, again covered with her own juices, on my cock. She began jerking me off, right to the point where I said I was going to come. Amy, not missing a stroke, moved over and said she wanted me to cum on her thighs. Hearing her say that, I immediately began spurting my sperm onto her smooth, sexy thighs. She continued stroking me, causing stream after stream of my gooey man-seed to be deposited on her sexy legs. She made sure I covered both legs with my gism. Satisfied, she began rubbing my potion into her soft skin, and covered her thighs and pussy with my gift. She said that this was a fantasy of hers since she had noticed my spent cum on her panties years ago. Amy said that she herself masturbated often thinking of my shooting my cum on her panties in her own bathroom. She further said that her sister was an idiot to divorce me. I recovered enough to reply that I had often thought of her and her sexy legs, and that she had been my favorite fantasy to jerk off to. She then grabbed her shorts, placed them on minus her panties. She told me that the panties were her gift to me. I told her thanks. She said the next time we met I was to bring them back, covered in my warm sperm as I had done years ago. She said that she needed a new pair for her self pleasuring purposes. I told her I would be glad to accommodate her wishes. I dressed, kissed her and left with her panties safely tucked in my pocket. Who knows what lay ahead... Hooked on Black Bareback Amy is a small cute blonde. She is 26 years old. She works as a paralegal at a very successful law firm. She is just five feet tall. She had nice pert B cup breasts, a narrow waist and just the right width to her ass. She is just petite. She doesn't have any children. The decided to wait and they just never got around to it. She can't take the pill so she and her husband use condoms. She is happily married to John. He is the General Manager of a large department store. He is 30 years old. He works long hours and often comes home late in the evening. He is usually mentally exhausted when he gets home. He just wants to eat, sit in front of the TV and enjoy a couple of beers. As a result of this their sex life has dropped off considerably. They try to have sex once a week, but lately it's down to once or twice a month. She never thinks of cheating on him. She loves him very much. He is the only man she ever slept with. Donald is a large black man. He is 6 ft 2 in tall and weighs 210. He stays fit. He works at a supermarket as the produce manager. He makes enough to live pretty well on. His favorite pastime is fucking married white woman. He is especially attracted to small blondes. Every Friday night is girls night out. Amy and three of her friends at work go to their favorite night club and have a couple of drinks. The dance a few dances and go home. A different one each time is designated driver. Friday night rolls around and the girls are excited to be going out again. The girls all go home and the designated driver goes around and picks them all up. The go to their favorite night club and take a table. Donald is sitting off to the side watching the door. He sees them walk in and he spots Amy. His cock stirs. 'There's a hot looking one. I'll see what I can do with her.' He waits till they finish their first drink. The cocktail waitress brings them a second round and he makes his move. He walks up to their table and looks at Amy. "Good evening, ladies. They're playing my favorite song and I don't have a dance partner. May I have this dance?" He holds his hand out to Amy. She smiles and takes his hand. They move to the dance floor. The chat and dance. He feeds her his usual bullshit story and she believes every word. Later he asks her to dance again. She accepts. "Why don't you sit at my table. We can chat better. No one will interrupt us there. She doesn't see any reason not to. She can see her girlfriends from it. He orders drinks for both of them. They dance a few times and have a couple of drinks. "Please forgive me for asking you this. I mean no disrespect, but have you ever been with a black man." She is shocked. She looks at him for a minute. "Oh my. What a question. I'll be truthful with you. The only man I've slept with is my husband." "The reason I asked is I hear about a lot of women want to have their husbands watch them with a black man." "Really? I can't imagine why they would want to do that." "I think it's the forbidden fruit thing. They know they shouldn't but they can't resist the temptation." "Have you ever thought about it. I don't mean having you husband watch. I mean just having sex." "Maybe once or twice. When I see a white woman with a black man I envision them together." "I'd like to introduce you to that. I'll bet you would like it once you tried it. The thrill of seeing your white skin on some black skin." "I don't know. That would be cheating on my husband. I don't want to hurt him. He is a good man." "I understand. I wouldn't like to break up your marriage. It's just something to try one time. Just for the fun of it." "I don't know. It sounds like a bad idea." "I see you and your friends in here every Friday. Think about it this week and we can talk next time." "OK. I'll think about it but I can't make any promises. It's very flattering to know someone wants you. That always makes a girl feel good. They dance a few more time and she goes back and sits with her friends. "Amy, you going to get blacked? I think that guy likes you. Did you get his number?" "Don't be silly. We just talked and danced. He was a perfect gentleman all the time." "Too bad. I hear they have big cocks and once you go black you never go back." "That's probably just a myth. I don't think someone took a survey." They finish their drinks and get up and leave. She is thinking about what Donald and her talked about. "Hi honey. I'm home." "Did you girls have a good time?" "Yep. We always have a good time. Sometimes I wish you could dance. I'd like to take you there." "I wish I could too. I have been blessed with with two left feet. It must be some genetic thing." "I'm going to shower and change. I'll be right back." She gets in the shower and lathers up. Donald pops into her mind. She wonders what it would be like if his hands were washing her right now. She closes her eyes and imagines his hands washing her body. She feels a little tingle in her pussy. Her hand moves down and she touches her clit. She stops herself. 'What am I doing. I can't be thinking like this. I can't have sex with another man. I love John." She quickly rinses off and drys herself. She puts on her t shirt and panties and goes to join John. They watch TV for a while and go to bed. She wakes the next morning. She hears the TV in the living room. She stretches and yawns. John has left the TV in the bedroom on. She sees a man and woman on a news channel. He is black and she is white. She is a beautiful blonde. Donald pops into her mind. She wonders if the two on TV are having sex. She closes her eyes and imagines them naked. She sees her on top, riding him. He pussy tingles. She moves her hand down and touches her clit. She gently rubs it. She imagines it's Donald's finger touching her. Her pussy gets wet and she starts breathing hard. She spreads her legs wide and works faster. 'Yes. Yes, Donald. Make me cum. Rub my pussy. Make me cum on your finger. Yes. Yes." She cries out and cums. It's way more intense then her usual. 'Oh god. What have I done. I just came thinking about him. What is wrong with me. I have to stop this. It's so wrong.' She goes in the bathroom and dries off her pussy and legs. She can't believe how wet she got. She gets dressed and goes to the living room. "Good morning, honey. Want some breakfast?" "Sure, how about some bacon and eggs." "You got it. Coming right up." She serves him on a TV tray and goes to clean the kitchen. John's phone rings. It's his buddy Gary. "Hey, babe. Gary invited me to come over and watch the game. I think I'll go. I'll be a two or three hours." "OK, honey. That will give me time to clean house without you being in the way. Have fun." She finishes cleaning. It will be another hour and a half before John comes home. She has been thinking of Donald every now and then. She decides to check what's out there on the internet. She turns on her laptop and enters interracial sex in her search engine. She is amazed at how many sites pop up. She clicks on the first one. Ten pages of videos are on this site. She looks at the thumbnails and picks one. She watches as the woman sucks on a huge cock. She wonders how she gets it all in her mouth. The girls gets on the guy and rides him. It finishes with him cumming on her face. She didn't realize but her hand is in her pants and she is wet. 'Oh god. She took that huge cock in her mouth and her pussy. It didn't seem to hurt her." She watches a few others. They are all pretty much the same. She deletes her browser history and closes her laptop. 'I have to stop thinking about this. If I don't I'm going to fuck Donald. I can't get it out of my mind.' That night she takes her shower and gets in bed. She scoots over next to John and takes his cock in her hand. She slowly starts jacking him. She gets a condom out of the night stand and rolls in on his cock. "mmmm, baby. Was there something you wanted." "Yes. You. I've been thinking about you all day. I'm ready for you." He reaches down and pets her pussy. She is soaked. She climbs on his and takes his hard 6 inches in her. She starts stroking on him. "Oh baby. You're hot tonight. Go for it, baby. Make me shoot my cum." Donald pops into her mind. She imagines it's his cock in her. She moans and speeds up. "Yes. Yes. Cum in me. Give me your hot cum. Yes. Yes." She squeezes his cock and he cums hard. She cries out as she cums with him. She rolls off and takes the condom off. She throws it in the waste basket. Guilt washes over. She can't believe how hard she came thinking about Donald. She hugs John and finally falls asleep. All week she is thinking about Donald. She has trouble concentrating at work. She can't get him out of her mind. Friday rolls around and by now she has decided to go with him. She can't resist the temptation. They walk in and take a table. She looks around and sees Donald off to the side. He smiles at her. She returns his smile. He waits for a while and asks her to dance. "Hi Amy. May I have this dance." She takes his hand. They dance a few times and she goes and sits with him. He friends are watching her. They wonder what's up with them. Finally, she asks her. "Did you think about what we talked about last week." She hesitates. "Yes. I did. I've decided I want to be with you one time. I'm just curious about it." "That's great. I was hoping you would say yes." "I want to be discrete about this. I don't want everyone knowing. I'll leave with my friends and then come back. You can meet me in the parking lot and we can go to your place. "That sounds good. I don't want to cause you any trouble." He enters his number in her phone. She puts in the name 'Donna'. The goes back with her friends. They have a couple of more drinks and dances and they leave. Mary is the designated driver. She is Amy's best friend. Mary drops all the others off. "Mary. Stop here. I need your help. I'm going with Donald tonight. I need you to cover for me." "Oh my god, Amy. Are you sure about this. What if John finds out. It could ruin your marriage." "I know. I want you to call John and tell him I drank to much and I passed out on your sofa. Tell him you'll bring me home in the morning. I'll have Donald bring me to your house later." "Of course I'll cover for you. I hope you know what you're doing." "It's just going to be this one time. I won't do it again." She drives her back to the club. Amy calls Donald and he comes out. She gets out of the car and goes with him. Mary calls John and tells him their lie. She gets in the car with Donald. He turns and looks at her. "Are you sure about this. I want you to come of your own free will. No reservations about it. If you change your mind at any time just say the word and I'll take you home." "I'm sure. I'm just a little nervous. I've never done this before." "Just sit there and relax. We'll go and make some sweet love and you can go home." "That sounds good. I'll like that." The walk into his apartment. It looks much nicer than she expected. It not some stinky bachelor pad. "Have a seat there on the sofa. Can I get you something to drink?" "No, thank you. I've had enough for tonight." He sits beside her. "You look a little nervous. Let's do this." He opens a little box on the coffee table and pulls out a joint. He lights it and passes it to her. "It's been a long time since I smoked any of this." "It's pretty good stuff. It should relax you. You're way too tense." She takes a couple of hits and feels it hit her. She calms down. She looks at him and smiles. He puts his arm around her shoulder, leans down and kisses her. She puts both arms around him and returns his kiss. The hold it a little while and she opens her mouth and gives him her tongue. He sucks on her tongue and lips. She gasps and holds on tighter. Her breathing increases. He reaches and cups her breast. She gasps again and presses it against his hand. Her pussy starts getting wet. "mmmm. You're a great kisser. I want some more of that. They kiss again and he unbuttons her blouse. He takes it off her shoulder and drops it on the floor. He reaches behind her and unhooks her bra. She pulls it off and adds it to the pile. "Wow. You have beautiful breasts. So full and high. I love your big nipples." He leans down and sucks on one. She moans as he tweaks the other. She lays back against the couch and lets him have his way with her. Her pussy is really wet now. She feels her pussy muscles twitch. "Oh yes. Your lips feel so good. Don't stop." He switches back and forth, bringing both nipples up like strawberries. She is moaning and helping him. "Come with me. We'll do better on my bed." She gets up and follows him. He stands by the bed and they kiss again. She presses her naked breasts to him. She unbuttons his shirt and takes it off. She rubs her hands over his bare chest. She sees her white hands on his black skin. She shivers as she sees her wedding ring sparkle. She feels pussy juice soak into her panties. He reaches behind her and unfastens her skirt. He pulls it down and fall around her feet. He holds her ass cheeks and pulls her to him. She moans and pushes against him. She feels his bulge against her stomach. 'Oh god, his cock must be huge. I hope I can take it all.' He pulls her panties down and she steps out of them. He steps back and looks at her. She is naked and ready for him. "Nice. You're very beautiful. Take my pants off and see what's going in you tonight." She opens his pants and they fall. He steps out of them and she pulls at his boxers. His huge cock flops out and she gasps. "Oh god. You're huge. I've never seen one that big. Take it easy with me. I'm not used to anything that big." "Don't worry baby. You can get on top and take it slow. I don't want to hurt you. Just take it slow and easy." He lays on the bed and she joins him. She lays beside him and takes his cock in her hand. She sees her white hand holding his black cock and a thrill runs through her body. Her pussy drips juice. She leans over and kisses. it. His cock throbs in her hand. She holds it with both hands and sees her wedding ring sparkle again. She pushes thoughts of John to the back of her mind. Donald rolls her on her back and starts kissing her breasts again. He kisses his way down to her pussy. He admires her neatly trimmed blonde bush. He sees her pink pussy lips showing through. He moves between her legs. She pulls her knees up and spreads for him. She thinks about his mouth on her pussy. A little pussy juice runs down her ass crack. He runs his hands down the inside of her thighs. She opens them wider for him. "Please. Don't tease me. Eat me and make me cum. Please." He licks her from her asshole to her clit. She cries out and humps up. He sucks on her pussy lips and her moans get louder. "Oh god. That is so good. Don't stop. More. More." He sticks two finger in her and finger fucks her. He pushes up, meeting his strokes. He touches her clit with his tongue and she cries out and cums. "Yes. Yes. Cumming on your tongue. Oh god, yes." He curls his finger up and finds her G spot. She moans and humps up to his fingers. "Get ready for a big cum, baby. Hang on." He rubs her G spot and sucks hard no her clit. It hits her hard and spreads all through her body. She screams and cums. He keeps sucking and she cums again. Her screams echo through the house. He lets her come down. "Oh my god. That was the best cum I've had in years. Wow." "More to come, baby. I'm just getting started." He rolls on his back and pulls her on top. She feels his huge cock between her legs. "Take it baby. Slide it up in your hot white pussy. Watch my big black cock slide up in you." She shivers at the thrill he is telling her about. She gets on her knees and takes his cock in her hand. She sees her white hand on it. "Yes. Big black cock. Big and hard for me." She move her pussy in line to take it. She rubs it on her pussy lips. It hits her clit and she cries out. "Take it baby. Don't tease me. I want my hard black cock in you." "Do you have a condom. I don''t want a baby." "I don't have any. If you want, I'll pull out and cum on you." "OK, do you promise. "What ever you want. Just tell me." She slides the head in. she feels it stretching her lips out. "Yes. Big cock. Making me bigger. Stretching me out. So big and hard. Big black hard cock for me. Yes. Yes." She slowly takes it up in her. It fills her like never before. She pushes down and his cock finds new territory. No on has been in her that far. "Yes. Do deep in me. No one has been in me that far. So good. So deep and good." She feels it against her cervix. No one has ever touched it before. She gasps with delight. She pulls back out and takes him up in her again. He thrusts up just as she comes down. His cock hits her cervix and she cries out and cums. "Oh god. You hit my cervix. Your big cock hit my cervix and it made me cum so hard. Big black cock in my cervix. Yes. Yes." He pulls her down and grinds her clit on his bone. It's time to make her beg for his cum. He plans on filling her with it. He grinds hard on her clit and she cums and screams. He holds her on it and makes her cum and cum. "Is that good, baby. Is cumming on a black cock good. Tell me how good it is." "Oh god yes. Make me cum more. Your hot black cock is so good. Make me cum more and more." "I want to cum with you. Let's cum together." "No, you have to pull out. I'll get a baby. I'm in my fertile time. Please don't cum in me." 'You can't cum unless I do too. I want you to cum with me. Tell me to cum with you." "Oh god. You torture me. I want to cum more. Make me cum some more. Please. Please." "You can cum if you take mine. I'm going to cum in you. Tell me you want my cum. Tell me where you want it." "Oh god. Please. Let me cum. I'll do anything. Just let me cum." "Tell me to cum in you. Tell me. Make me cum in you. Squeeze my cock and make it squirt in your cervix. Take my cum." "Oh yes. Give me your cum. Cum in me. Squirt it in my cervix. I don't care. Just cum and make me cum with you." "Are you sure. Tell me again. Where do you want my cum. Tell me." "In my pussy. Shoot it in my pussy. Give me your hot black cum. Make it go in my cervix. I don't care. Cum hard in me." She squeezes his cock hard and holds it against her cervix. It's lined up to take it straight in. She milks his cock hard. His cock flares and his cum hits her. She screams and holds him deep in her. Her cum is overwhelming and she blacks out. He keeps pumping his cum in her. She comes around and groans. He is still cumming in her. Her pussy muscles are milking his cum right into her cervix. She cries out and cums again. "Oh my god. So fucking good. Your black cock is amazing. I never came that hard ever. So good. Big black and so good." "Stay right there and we can go again. I have more cum for you. Lots more hog black cum." "Yes. I want more. It's so good when is hits my cervix. So fucking good. I can't say not to you. You're too much man for me to deny. I want more and more of your hot black cum." She keep gently squeezing his cock. She wants it hard again. She wants more hot cum in her. She isn't thinking of John or getting a baby. She just wants to fuck him some more. She feels it filling with blood. She keeps squeezing it gently. "Yes, baby. It's getting hard again for you. Keep working on it. I have some more cum for you." She feels it swell and touch her cervix. She starts stroking on it. She strokes and grinds it on he clit. She feels her orgasm coming on. She speeds up, humping him faster and faster. "Cum in me again, baby. Give me more. More hot black cum."