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In The Beginning

By: werebare



I might as well start at the beginning, many years ago. The first time I ever saw Trish, my beloved wife and lover of several years' standing, was really quite a revealing occasion. 

Back in those days, I was about 19 or 20, and I usually woke and got up quite early. On this particular sunny spring morning, I was up and about at around 6:00 am. I went down and fetched the milk in off the front doorstep (our milkman always was an early bird) and got myself some Corn Flakes in the kitchen while I waited for George, my flatmate, to surface. 

As I tucked into my cereal, I happened to cast an eye out through the garden window; and said eye was immediately caught by a movement in the garden of the house that backed onto ours. I noticed that a girl had just emerged into their garden, carrying a basket of washing; I guess she wanted to get it onto the line to benefit from the day's sunshine before she went off to work. 

Hmmm. Now, that was funny; last I knew, it was an elderly couple who lived in that house. Apparently someone else had moved in without our noticing. Well, she was certainly an improvement over the previous residents!

She was maybe two or three years older than me, and perhaps a bit on the plump side, but still she was pretty tasty. (Yes, I know, to a bloke the age I was then, anything female is tasty ... still, she really wasn't at all bad-looking, and I'm not just saying that because Trish is going to be reading this!) But what really caught my attention was that she was standing there in her garden, hanging out her washing, wearing a not very substantial nightie.

Well, that was a nice enough start to the day - but my eyes really came out on stalks a moment later, when I cottoned on that the early morning sun was shining clear through her nightie. Clear enough, I might say, to give me a damn good view of parts of her figure that wouldn't usually be on public exhibition!

Then things got better still - she stretched up to peg some smaller items onto the line. And I realised now that not only was that nightie almost see-through, it was also pretty damn short. I couldn't quite believe it at first - I thought she must be wearing a pair of tiny, dark panties. But then she turned round and bent down (from the waist - most indiscreet with that nightie, really) to pick up the next item out of her washing basket. And all unknowing as far as I could tell, she presented me with a perfect view of her bum, along with an enticing little dark triangle, before she turned back to the line and stretched up even higher. 

There was no doubt about it, she was flashing her pussy at me each time she stretched up, and her pleasantly plump bottom each time she bent down! 

Well, needless to say, I forgot all about my cereal and concentrated on the view.

I could only imagine that either she wasn't bothered about the chance of being seen because she thought it was too early for anyone else to be about, or else she simply hadn't realised how much was on show as she bent and stretched. I thought about calling George to wake up and come down for a gander... No, he always took a long time to surface, and she'd probably be gone in again by the time he got here. I'd miss my own chance to watch if I left the window to try to wake him up. 

Oh, well, tough titty, George! I always said the early bird catches the worm - although in this case it was more of a case of the early worm watching the bird, I suppose.

And after about ten minutes, the object of my voyeuristic delight finished hanging out her washing and went back indoors, leaving me staring at a bowl of very soggy Corn Flakes, trying to adjust my trousers and wondering whether I'd been dreaming.

- o -

Over the next week or two, I came to realise that this bird was a bit of a closet exhibitionist, as you might say; or at least she was when she could pretend to herself that it was accidental. When I thought about it, I realised that thanks to some well-placed trees and fences, ours was the only house that looked onto the back of theirs, and the ground floor window from which I watched her wasn't actually all that obvious. She must have decided that meant there wasn't too much chance of her being observed during her little flashing episodes. 

Anyway, whatever her reasons, over the next few weeks I spotted her in the early mornings in her garden several more times, always "dressed" in a similarly translucent nightie (but not always the same one - I have to say, I approved of her taste in nightwear). Sometimes she was putting the washing out, and sometimes she was doing some sort of gentle wake-up gymnastics, which she apparently preferred to do in the open air. I became a very regular early riser - in more than one sense of the word!

Just once, indeed, first thing in the morning after a particularly hot and muggy night, she opened her back door, and stood there looking out into the garden, in the sunlight, completely starkers. Maybe she'd been sleeping in the raw, or just come out of the shower, or something. She had her usual light nightie in her hand, and after a quick stretch in the sunlight she slipped into it. But hell, she could have done that before opening the door - it had to have been a deliberate little dare to herself, even if she was pretty sure there was nobody to see her. And nice firm little knockers she had too, (as if I hadn't already seen them in silhouette through her nighties often enough).

I started to pay more attention to our garden during weekends and summer evenings, too. And over a few weeks, it became quite clear to George and me that neither she nor her flatmate were all that shy anyway. Even apart from the early mornings when "my" bird presumably thought there was nobody watching, they didn't seem much bothered about their bits being on view.

It was a sunny summer that year, and the girls spent quite a bit of it sunbathing, usually in pleasantly brief bikinis. And quite often, though only (worse luck!) when they were lying face-down, the bikini tops would be unfastened. George and I had a wonderful time, apart from trying very hard not to be too obvious about staring! But I never did tell him then about the early morning shows I was getting - serve him right for being such a slug-a-bed.

Trouble is, I was young; and at that age I was very shy. Even when both we and they were in our respective gardens, I never quite dared to try to make an excuse to talk to her over the fence, though by now we were on nodding acquaintance. I mean, it would spoil all my fantasies if she had a steady boyfriend or something already. I could hardly go up to her and say, "Hi - I saw you flashing your naughty bits in the garden a few mornings ago - fancy a date?" - and I just couldn't think of a proper line to start a conversation with. So I kept her as the object of my fantasies.

Then, later that summer, George and I heard through a mate about a house that was coming up for rent in a little village a few miles away. Despite the attractions we were enjoying in the garden behind ours, this other place was a lot bigger for about the same money, and the village was a nice "Olde Worlde" one with a couple of first-class pubs; so, slightly reluctantly, we decided to go for it.

We were just finishing moving all our stuff out into the Hertz rent-a-van for the final trip, when I remembered that my old man's lawn-mower was still in the garden shed. We'd borrowed it a day or two before to cut our back lawn, so as to leave the place looking tidyish, and never got round to returning it. I dashed round the back to get it, so that we could drop it in as we went past my parents' place on our way to our new home. 

Well, I hadn't been paying any attention at all to our garden neighbours that day, simply because we'd been too damn busy with the moving. I now saw that they were both out in their garden sunbathing (as usual in good weather), and both were reading. But now, as I went back into the garden to get the mower, I realised to my delight that both of them were also, as was admittedly not unusual, sunbathing topless.

However, while the one I'd been fancying was lying face down as usual, her mate was lying on her back! She was reading a paperback held above her, using it to shade her face from the sun and getting some of that sun on her tits. And the fact that I was on the other side of the fence, and that her knockers were clearly visible to me, just didn't seem to bother her at all. She didn't stir, or react in any way to my presence. I couldn't help noticing that she had quite remarkably long, dark brown nipples; they must have been near-on ½" long! (not that I was staring, of course - heaven forfend!) 

As I came nearer their end of our garden, heading for our shed, she started to move her book. I thought, of course, that she'd seen me coming and was going to shield her boobs from view with it. But whether she'd seen me or not (and I'm sure she must have), she just lowered the book over her face as if she was taking a nap for a minute. Of course, this meant she could pretend she hadn't noticed me - but her tits were still clearly on show, and by obscuring her own face she was giving me tacit permission to cop an eyeful!

Well, of course I stopped and stared for a moment or two, but then the one I thought of as "mine" noticed me, lifted herself up on one arm (giving me a fairish flash of her own tits - small but perfectly formed, as you might say) and said, "Well? Are you going to stand there staring at Claire's boobs all day? If you're that nosy, it's a good thing you're moving!" 

I blushed beetroot (like I said, I was still pretty young and innocent) and turned rapidly back to the shed, totally lost for words and feeling very small and embarrassed. Shy wasn't the word!

I got the lawn-mower, then walked back out to the front of the house, being very careful not to look back - I thought I could feel eyes on the back of my neck, and I really didn't know what to do with myself. I carried the mower out to the van where George was waiting in the driver's seat, and we drove off.

It wasn't until we were nearly at our destination that I managed to get myself back together enough to tell George what had just happened.

"You bastard, Dave! You might have told me while there was still time for me to sneak a peek too!"

Well, it was too late now - we'd already dropped the mower off, and passed the estate agents and returned the key, and we couldn't think of a good excuse to ask for it back. George was well pissed off, but there wasn't much to be said, so we carried on to our new residence and moved our stuff in.

- o -

Once we'd moved in to the new place, we naturally assumed that was the last we'd see of "our" two girls; but to my surprise we met them again a few months later, when the winter party season started. As it turned out, we had mutual acquaintances; and a whole bunch of us seemed to go to the same round of parties and constantly bump into each other. 

The first time we saw them again, George didn't even recognise them in their party gear. But there was no way I'd forget the one I'd been peeping at and lusting after, even if I still didn't know her name yet! I could hardly believe my eyes -I'd been fantasising about her as my 'lost love', on and off, for months; and here she was in front of me again. Mind you, she was dressed a lot more decently than she'd tended to be in her own garden. In fact, she was wearing a surprisingly conservative dress. I soon discovered that she was a lot less free and easy about showing off her charms in company than when she thought there was nobody about, especially when her more liberated friend Claire wasn't egging her on. 

She greeted me cheerfully enough, though. "Hello, Nosey Parker!" she grinned, "Come back for another stare, then, have you?" And she made as if to slip one strap of her dress off her shoulder. 

Then she hesitated a moment, and said, "Oh, come on, let's have a dance - after all, we do sort of know each other already, and the talent here's pretty lousy apart from you!" 

Backhanded compliments, yet?

We danced for a few numbers and exchanged names. Hers, I finally discovered, was Trish. "Well," she continued in a rather posh accent, "actually, Patricia to my Mum, but that's too snooty - I tell all my friends to call me Trish." I positively preened at the implication that this rather sophisticated bird already had me categorised as a friend! 

At her request I went to get us each a glass of wine when the number finished, and we sat down in a corner to chat for a bit. She mentioned that Claire was there too (I hadn't spotted her yet). I told her that George was around also, then both of them happened past in rapid succession, and next thing all four of us were sitting together, chatting as if we were all old friends. And I suppose in a way we were.

Over the next few times that we met at parties, I soon realised there was something about Trish that I just couldn't get out of my mind. George didn't think all that much to her at all; he was much more attracted by Claire, who had a head of heavy, waist-length hair that was so dark as to be almost blue-black. She was also rather tall and leggy, with a high-cheeked Romany sort of look to her. Totally mismatched to her name, in fact, come to think of it. But Trish, although much less exotic looking, was definitely the one that took my fancy.

As I said, we kept on bumping into the two of them on and off during that autumn and winter at parties, and we usually had a dance or two with each other. I found Trish quite willing to snuggle up against me sexily in the slow numbers, but still I couldn't get up the nerve to ask her for a proper date. Like I said, I was painfully shy, and I just didn't realise that she was giving me fairly clear "come-on" signals. 

The girls told us that they still lived together in the town house that backed onto our old one, while George and I were now about 10-15 miles away in the village we'd moved to. So we really didn't have much opportunity to get to know them better, except when we met them at parties - but we took good advantage of those fairly frequent opportunities.

In the end, George got his nerve up before me. He eventually made a date to take Claire to the cinema (to see "Where Eagles Dare"), one night in the depths of that winter. He and I agreed that I would drive him into town (we shared a car as well as a house), then I was going to go and spend the evening with my Mum and Dad, who lived quite nearby. Mind you, I must admit that a major reason for this show of filial devotion was so I could drop my washing off with my Mum and snitch a few cakes off her!

Then I was to come back to collect George later on, when the film was over.

All this went according to plan, despite some fairly filthy winter weather as we drove in; but unknown to me, Claire nearly chickened out of her date after I dropped George and left. She got nervous, then ended up asking Trish to come along to the movie too, to "play gooseberry". 

I gather George wasn't too impressed at first (I imagine he'd been hoping for a bit of back-row nookie), but he accepted the decision gracefully enough when he thought it through. After all, it meant that he got to squire two birds, which always makes you look good! So they all three walked round to the cinema together - it was just a few hundred yards round the block from Trish and Claire's house.

Meanwhile, I went back to my parents' place and spent a pleasant enough evening with them - Mum's cakes were as good as ever, and now that I'd moved out, my Dad and I seemed to get on with each other a lot better than we had when I was still living at home.

Around 10 o'clock that night, I came back to the girls' pad to pick George up, but found nobody at home. Of course, I assumed that Trish must have gone somewhere else separately. I sat around in the car waiting for them for a bit, but it was getting bitterly cold by now, and just for good measure it had started to snow quite heavily. We couldn't afford the petrol to run the engine to keep the heater working while I sat there, and I soon got very chilly. 

So, for lack of anything else to do, I buttoned up my coat, shoved my hands deep into my pockets to keep them warm, and trekked round to the cinema to meet them. I reckoned I'd keep warmer walking, even in the snow, than I would if I just sat in the car with the engine off.

It was a bloody cold walk, but it was indeed warmer than sitting slowly freezing in a cooling car. I soon got round to the cinema, and passed a few minutes reading the "Forthcoming Attractions" posters. 

Just as I was starting to get a bit fed up waiting, the three of them came out of the auditorium. Of course, I wasn't expecting to see Trish there, as I hadn't realised she was going along. Seeing her was quite a pleasant surprise - I suddenly realised I'd been feeling a bit lonely, what with George seeing Claire while I hadn't been expecting to be seeing Trish. 

We walked back to their house together in a group. George naturally walked beside Claire, so I strolled along behind them with Trish and listened to her as she chatted to me about the film, which she'd really enjoyed.

It seemed that Claire had dressed quite lightly for her date, even if she had had second thoughts at the last moment about being alone with a strange man; and now she started feeling the cold and was shivering quite violently. So good old George showed off his Yorkshire macho, shucking his coat off and wrapping it round her shoulders while he walked casually along in the frost and snow in his shirt sleeves. Very romantic I'm sure, but a bit bloody brassy for my taste! 

Trish had dressed more sensibly for the weather - after all, she wasn't the one originally expecting a bit of a snog - and she didn't seem to feel the need any extra wrapping, for which I was heartily thankful! However, as we ambled back she suddenly slipped on a patch of ice under the snow, and she could have fallen quite painfully if I hadn't quickly put an arm out to steady her. And of course, once I'd put that arm round her, it seemed like a good idea to keep it there. Hmmm. She didn't seem to mind - indeed, she snuggled into me - and she made a remarkably comfortable armful!

We soon got back to their pad, and the girls invited us in for a (very) welcome hot drink before we drove back to our own place. All four of us sat in their front room around the electric fire for a while, drinking coffee and nattering; and then Claire, who'd been holding hands with George for some time, exchanged a knowing look with him that I suspect Trish and I weren't supposed to notice.

"'Scuse us," she said, "but I think George and I are going to go and sit in the other room for a few minutes to - er - say goodbye. You two don't mind being left alone for a bit, do you?"

Naturally we excused them, and they went off into the back room, presumably for a quick goodnight snog - Claire seemed to have lost her previous nervousness with George completely!

Since George and Claire had already suggested the idea, I took the opportunity to sidle up to Trish on their sofa, and put an arm round her shoulder as we chatted; and before long we were having a kiss and cuddle ourselves. And a very cuddly person she was too, as I'd already noticed during the walk back. 

So, being the randy young sod I was, I decided now was the time to try my favourite party trick. I'd managed to develop the knack of unfastening a bird's bra with only one hand, from outside her dress, while just seeming to be kneading the middle of her back. It didn't always work, depending on the type of clasp; but if it failed, the victim usually didn't even realise what I'd been up to, which to my mind made it a fairly safe game to play.

This time, it worked a charm. Trish gasped in surprise as her bra suddenly pinged undone under my ministrations. I eyed her a bit nervously for a moment while I waited for her reaction - would I get a smack in the puss for my cheek? But she just raised her eyebrows, grinned back at me and snuggled a bit closer. 


In the Beginning



NOTE:

My apologies to my readers for the earler submittal of this story. I prematurely submitted the story without prior proofreading and later discovered several errors. Following is my edited submittal. 

PROLOGUE:

Many of those who have read my true stories about Carole's life have asked how she became so submissive to the demands of any man—in other words, why was she so 'easy' sexually. I decided that I should try to reveal what I thought was the actual beginning of her sexual being; her proclivity to exhibit the 'round-heels syndrome' before her lover for several years turned her into the slut she so willingly became when she was in her early twenties. The following is a true account of the events as she related to me a year after the actual event.

Carole Ann Roth was an enigma to anyone who first observed her. An enigma in that despite her physical development her mental development lagged behind. Physically she was developed like a very young Pamela Anderson with a very impressive chest by the time she was fourteen. That development only improved with each year, her breasts continuing to grow but with the resilience of youth keeping them from sagging. The size of her breasts were further enhanced by the narrowness of her waist; an enviable eighteen inches that flared into very womanly hips; hips that promised possible child-bearing ease, although such a possibility was not on the mind of any man who surveyed her figure. Completing the sexiness of her figure was what many preferred to call her "bubble-butt"—the globes of her ass appearing round and firm, inviting at least a pinch or squeeze. When a person got around to looking at Carole's head they were usually further impressed by her facial beauty; brilliant blue eyes on a symmetrical face with pouty full lips, lips that seemed to promise a sensual delight by their softness. Then there was her hair; hair the color of golden wheat with natural curves and waves, hair that could also equal in color and depth of pure clover honey. Surprisingly, all of this perfection was compressed into a mere four-feet, eleven inches. Her diminutive size making her appear many years younger than her true age, despite her womanly development.

That was Carole's physical side. One could almost say it was physical perfection depending on their definition. That near-perfection wasn't equaled in Carole's intelligence, however. To say that she was 'slow' would be a kind appraisal in actuality. Not that Carole was an idiot by any sense, but once a person got to know her they became aware that her mental faculties in no way equaled her physical. That shortcoming was why Carole accepted the quarter contained in the folded-up note she received from one of her male classmates in her sixth-grade class without understanding the intent of the note or why she was being given a quarter. In her defense, the note wasn't all that specific in it's crude wording and didn't warn of any consequences of accepting the enclosed quarter for her. The note was passed to her by another student sitting next to Carole right before the class ended, so Carole didn't have a chance to read it until she was standing in line in the cafeteria.

As she waited patiently in the long line, Carole unfolded the note and was surprised when the quarter fell into her hands. She looked at it curiously and then turned her attention to the note, scrawled in pencil. Silently, Carole read the note..."Carill, meet me and Eddie at the brige after skool so we can f--- you. Here is 25 cents. Bobby". Carole may have been a little slow, but at least she knew how to spell her name! "It's C-A-R-O-L-E," she murmured, paying no attention to the other misspellings in the note. She couldn't comprehend what Bobby meant by the 'f---' in the note, but she was sure it must be that he wanted a kiss as he had blown her a kiss several times in the past. Carole thought it would be nice to be kissed by the best looking boy in her class, so she was walking on air knowing he liked her. Seeing that she was approaching the steam table, Carole stuffed the note and the quarter in her front pocket and picked up a tray from the stack.

Carole thought no more of the note through the rest of her day at school, stumbling her way through the English and History classes without, thankfully, being called upon by either teacher. She was always terrified that she would be called to answer some question or other, knowing full well that she wouldn't know the answer, whatever it might be. Carole remembered the note when, just as she was getting ready to board the school bus for the ride home, Bobby tapped her on the shoulder and asked, "you get my note?"

Carole turned as she started up the steps and replied nonchalantly, "uh-huh. Thanks for the quarter." Carole then walked down the aisle of the bus and sat down beside Becky, one of the few girls with who she was able to communicate and one who always treated her nicely. Not like most of the other girls Carole knew. She looked up as Bobby and Eddie walked past her seat and saw Eddie give her a big wink before he and Bobby settled into a seat across the aisle and slightly behind where she sat.

As the bus began to move Carole heard Eddie ask Bobby, "think she'll do it?"

"Sure. She'll do it. She kept the quarter." Bobby bragged.

Bobby's remark about the quarter puzzled Carole, but not understanding what the boys were talking about she thought no more about it as her and Becky engaged in conversation about their school day and the normal girl gossip about other kids in the school. The bus ride for Carole was a short one as they only had a five-mile trip from the school to the point where the bus let her and a few others off near the corner of Las Olas Boulevard and Hendricks Island. 

As all of the other dropped-off riders except Carole, Eddie and Bobby walked back down Las Olas to their respective neighborhoods, Bobby stepped up beside Carole and suggested, "c'mon. Come see our hideout."

Carole looked at Bobby confused, "wh-what? What hideout?"

Eddie stepped to Carole's other side and explained, "you know, the place where we hang out. Like a club."

"Yeh, a club," Bobby added. "It's our secret place."

"Uh, uh, I dunno know," Carole hesitated. "I have to get home."

"Ah, it'll only take a minute," Bobby argued. "You'll like it. No one else knows it's there."

"Oh, okay," Carole acquiesced. "For just a little, though."

"This way," Bobby motioned with a devilish grin on his face as he turned to take a slightly worn path down beside the edge of the bridge toward the canal below.

Carole didn't hesitate any longer; now curious about this 'secret place' the boys had referred to as she followed Bobby down the narrow path with Eddie right behind her. Once the trio got to the bottom of the path, Carole could see that there was a small opening in the bridge wall right before the wall met the edge of the canal wall.

Bobby stood to the side of the wall and motioned for Carole to come closer. "Come see, Carole. See our place?"

Carole stepped up to where the hole began and stooped down to look inside. She could see that the bank sloping up from the canal met the overhead concrete bridge forming a sandy landing right beneath the bridge. Just as she started to straighten up, Bobby pushed on her back, "go ahead. Go in, Carole." He pushed harder until Carole did as instructed, placing her books ahead of herself as she crawled through the narrow opening, Bobby now pushing on her behind until she reached the point where she was able to stand beneath the bridge. Carole watched as the two boys crawled through the opening and then walked to the edge of the bank and looked out at the waterway. She could see the expensive homes on each side of the canal, complete with boat docks and boats of various sizes as far as she could see. The view wasn't anything new to Carole for she lived in an apartment building her parents owned that fronted on another waterway a little further up the boulevard. She had even enjoyed boating on the several waterways that spread out like fingers from Las Olas, so she wasn't overly impressed by Bobby's so-called "secret place".

Just as Carole was starting to turn back from the bank, Bobby walked up to her and, putting an arm around her shoulders, suggested, "Why don't we sit down and watch for boats, Carole?"

"Nah, I better get home, Bobby. My mom's going to be wondering where I'm at."

"Aww, c'mon, Carole. Just sit down for a little bit. Maybe we could talk," Bobby paused and then added, "or something."

"Yeh, maybe you could give us a kiss," Eddie chimed in as he stepped to Carole's other side and put one arm around her waist.

Carole giggled, "No, I don't kiss boys yet."

"Oh, just a little one, Carole. We won't tell," Eddie begged.

"Yeh, Carole. What's wrong with a little kiss?" Bobby persuaded.

Bobby moved the hand he had draped on Carole's shoulder to the side of her face and turned her head to face his, "c'mon, Carole. We like you and just want a kiss. You're the prettiest girl in our school and you just gotta give us a kiss."

Bobby's flattery weakened Carole's resolve a little and she felt a little flutter of excitement flow through her body. She couldn't believe that the best-looking boy in her class thought she was so pretty and maybe, just maybe, a little kiss wouldn't hurt anything. Besides, Bobby had said that they wouldn't tell. She smiled at Bobby and acquiesced, "okay, but just a little one. Okay?"

Carole closed her eyes as she saw Bobby bend his head towards her in anticipation. Then she felt his lips on her lips and had her very first almost-adult kiss. It was a closed-mouth kiss, somewhat perfunctory, and all too brief. Not quite like she had seen in the movies or when she saw her parents kiss, but it did cause her breathing to quicken. Her eyes were still closed as Bobby withdrew his lips and then suddenly she felt his other hand squeeze her breast. 

Carole's eyes flew open and she almost instinctively reached up with both hands and yanked Bobby's arm down. "No! Stop it, Bobby!"

Bobby laughed, "I just wanted to see if they were real, Carole. Ain't no big deal."

"Well, you said just a little kiss, Bobby. You shouldn't have touched me like that."

"Okay, okay," Bobby smiled. "Like I said, it ain't no big deal. Besides, it felt good. You have a real nice body, Carole, and oughta be proud of it."

Carole beamed at Bobby's second compliment. She was not used to anyone praising her and to have someone like Bobby say such things swelled her with pride. "Thanks, Bobby, but you still shouldn't have done that."

Eddie interrupted the exchange between his classmates, "hey, how come I didn't get a kiss, too? Where's mine?"

Giggling, Carole turned towards Eddie, "well, alright, you can have one too, Eddie."

In an effort to be more romantic than Bobby had been, Eddie circled both arms around Carole's waist and pulled her against him, then bent his tall frame awkwardly downward to fit his almost-six-foot body against Carole's under-five-foot stature. As his face drew closer, Carole once again closed her eyes and waited breathlessly. Then she felt Eddie's lips brush hers', first lightly, and then with increased pressure against her closed mouth. 

Obviously, Eddie was a more experienced kisser as he attempted to enter Carole's mouth with his tongue, causing her to jerk her head backward in surprise. "Uggh, Eddie. That's nasty," Carole complained.

"What do you mean, it's nasty?" Eddie retorted. "That's how you're supposed to kiss!"

"Well, I don't like it," Carole explained. "It doesn't look like they do it like that in the movies."

"Ha! Movies," Eddie snickered. "Those aren't real, silly." He continued holding Carole tight against while Bobby stepped behind Carole and the two exchanged knowing looks as Bobby gripped Carole's hips with both hands and then rubbed his crotch against her firm buttocks.

Carole placed her hands against Eddie's chest and tried to push him away from her as she admonished Bobby. "What are you doing, Bobby? Stop that!"

"Okay," Bobby grinned as he moved both hands around in front of Carole and squeezed both breasts. "How about this, then?"

"Bobby, stop it!" Carole snapped as she put both her hands over Bobby's and tried to pull them away from her chest. "Let me go!"

"I don't think so, Carole," Bobby argued. "You don't really want me to stop, do you?"

Before Carole could respond, Eddie had reached down and gripped her skirt and pulled it up to her waist, exposing her cotton-panty-clad behind and her shapely legs. Carole didn't know which pair of hands to attack first, but she instinctively reached down and attempted to pry Eddie's hands away from her skirt, only to leave Bobby's hands free to massage her breasts, which he quickly grew tired of that and proceeded to undo the buttons on Carole's blouse. At that, Carole had to switch her defense to her blouse and she futilely tried to stop Bobby from undoing first one and then another and another of her buttons. That in turn left Eddie's hands free and he quickly switched them to her panties, hooking his fingers inside the elastic band and managing to pull them down to the middle of her hips before Carole managed to halt his downward thrust. That effort resulted in Bobby being able to pull Carole's blouse out of her skirt and finish undoing the last button, freeing Bobby's hands to attack Carole's full brassiere, sliding his hands under the bottom of the cups so that he could easily grip both breasts, marveling at their firm softness, feeling like large sponge balls.

The futility of defending herself against the two groping boys finally had its effect on Carole and she dropped her hands to her sides and began to quietly sob. "Please. Please don't," she implored to apparently deaf ears as both Eddie and Bobby continued to probe her body, her nipples being tweaked while her pubic hairs were pulled.

Finally, Bobby stopped his abuse of Carole's breasts and stepped back. "You want us to stop, Carole?"

Carole sniffed, "Y-yes, please stop."

"Okay, we will. We'll stop if you'll agree to undress for us. You take your clothes off and we'll stop."

"No! I will not!" Carole declared through tears. "If you don't stop, I'm going to tell."

"Ha, ha," Bobby snickered. "You dumb cunt. We paid you twenty-five cents and if you don't do as we tell you, we'll tell everyone at school that you took the quarter in return for making out with us."

"No one will believe you," Carole retorted with false bravado. "I didn't know what the quarter was for."

"Yeh, but you came down here with us," Bobby countered. "Why else would you come down here with two boys?"

"Y-you tricked me! I didn't know you were going to do what you've done," Carole defended as she began to re-button her blouse, completely forgetting that her ass and legs were on display for Bobby as he stood behind her and admired the view.

Bobby began to get frustrated with the dumb blonde and he stepped to her side and snarled as he withdrew a small pocket knife from his pants, "look, you two-bit whore, either you take your clothes off or I'll cut them off! Might get your titties cut that way, too."

Seeing the knife as Bobby opened it and waved it in front of the now-terrified and sobbing girl, Carole could only think of the name Bobby had called her. "I-I am not a whore! Don't call me that," she whined.

"Well, you got the big tits of a whore," Bobby sneered ignorantly. "Might as well be one." He held the knife up higher for Carole to see as he waved it back and forth. "Now, you going to undress or not? Or should I start cutting your clothes off?"

Eddie had finally released Carole and stepped back, his face revealing the hope that the pretty girl would give in. He knew that Bobby's words were only a bluff for the two of them had discussed their plan to have some fun with the hapless girl thoroughly and had ultimately decided that they may have to threaten her to get what they wanted. Neither of them had even got to first base with a girl and when Eddie had confessed his innocence to Bobby is when Bobby had suggested that they get one of the girls they knew alone and take their chances. When they discussed the different possible victims, it was easily determined that Carole would be the easiest one to conquer. Her mental slowness had often been a joke among her classmates ever since elementary school. Not that she was an idiot or retard, but just that she wasn't as mentally quick as others. So the two boys had decided on Carole and started to plan. So far their plan was working just great, because even if they didn't get anywhere else with her, at least both of them had got to feel her and see most of her sexy body.

Carole shuffled her feet in the loose gray sand beneath the bridge, as she appeared to be processing what Bobby had threatened. Her sense of modesty was eroded by the very thought of her clothes being cut off. What would her mother say to that? She'd be furious that Carole had let her clothes be cut up! Surely she'd be grounded. Maybe forever. Carole's parents were never mean to her, but they were strict and her mother was always so fastidious about Carole's clothing.

The debate in Carole's head took but a few minutes, but once she decided on the safest course for her to take, she put on her bravest face and announced, "okay. Okay I'll do it. But you better not tell anyone that I did it."

Both Eddie and Bobby grinned like Cheshire cats at Carole's capitulation. "Fine," Bobby agreed. "It's just your clothes, anyway, so go on and do it."

"Yeh, we've seen most of you already," Eddie laughed.

Carole glared at Eddie and began to unbutton her blouse, refusing to look at either of the boys again, seemingly focused blankly on a spot out on the canal. When she had undone the last button, Carole slid the top off of her shoulders and held it in front of her for a moment before Bobby barked, "put your blouse down, Carole. Put it down."

Carole looked around for a safe place to put her top and didn't see anything but sand. "Wh-where c-can I put it?" she whined.

"It don't matter," Bobby pointed out. "Just put it down. We wanna see those tits."

Carole took one more look around and still not seeing a clean place to lay her top, she folded it carefully and placed it a few feet from her. She became embarrassingly aware of the effect that bending over had on her breasts straining against her bra as the two boys whistled and exclaimed, "Man, look at those tits!"

Carole blushed at the remark and started to cover her bare chest with her arms until Bobby stopped her. "Uh-uh. You don't hide anything! Keep your arms down."

Carole obeyed and instead switched her attention to the zipper and button on the side of her skirt. They were easily undone and Carole turned her back on the two boys and stepped out of the full garment. She folded it like she had her blouse and gently laid it on top of it, an almost comical gesture considering where she was and what she was being made to do.

"Turn around, Carole. We want to see the front," Bobby ordered.

Carole was no longer being recalcitrant, finally realizing that it was doing her no good resisting the boys' demands. She was going to have to give them their 'show' whether she liked it or not. "Do it and get it over with", she advised herself silently. She turned to face the two lasciviously grinning boys with her hands at her side and looked at Bobby questioningly.

"The bra. Take the bra off next," Bobby instructed, as he understood Carole's silent question.

Without hesitation, Carole crooked her arms behind her and undid the clasp to her bra and then slid the straps off her shoulders, setting free her oversize, bulbous breasts, white from lack of sun and tipped with small pink nipples surrounded by pinkish islands. Carole's nipples had unexplainably hardened, but still did not protrude far from her aureoles, remaining tiny beacons for the boys' eyes. Carole had to grin inwardly as she saw the almost-panting look on each of their faces as they viewed her breasts uncovered and unfettered, standing firm without sag, almost pointing straight ahead like the headlamps of a car.




In the Beginning



"Jeesh," Eddie whistled and he stepped toward Carole with one hand outreached.

"Oh, no," Carole admonished. "You didn't say anything about touching," as she took a step backward.

"We didn't say anything about NOT touching either," Eddie countered as he took two more quick steps and grabbed one breast with a claw-like hand, squeezing it painfully.

"Ouch! That hurt!" Carole cried. "Stop it, Eddie!"

Eddie laughed almost maniacally as he used a thumb and index finger to pinch her nipple, enjoying the sight of Carole cringing at the pain, her knees giving slightly as though she was trying to lower herself away from the pain-enlisting pinching. She just as quickly rose on foot toe as Eddie twisted the nipple sadistically with another evil laugh.

"Hey, no sense in hurting her," Bobby cautioned. "She's doing like we told her."

Eddie shrugged and pulled on the sore nipple again before releasing it. "Just teaching her a lesson, Bobby. The whore needs to learn."

"Yeah, yeah," Bobby agreed, "but I think she oughta finished stripping. Go ahead, Carole. Take off them panties. Eddie won't hurt you any more."

Assured that Eddie wasn't going to attack her again, Carole complied with Bobby's latest demand, hooking her thumbs in the elastic band of her schoolgirl underwear, silently relieved that she had on clean panties like her mother had always advised. When she had lowered her last vestige of cover to her knees, Carole started to turn around with her back to the staring youths until she looked up and saw the disapproving look on Bobby's face, so she released her grip on the waist band and let the white garment fall to her ankles, covering her tiny feet like a cloud before she bent further and carefully raised one foot and extracted it from the leg opening, weaving slightly as she fought to maintain her balance, painfully aware of the way her breasts swung ever so slightly, so tantalizingly to her audience. 

Carole was not so fortunate when she tried to free her other foot from her panties. Despite the care she was taking in maintaining her balance on one foot, she started to teeter toward the upraised foot and would have fallen on her side if not for a pair of arms wrapping around her waist and holding her up. Carole stood there for a few seconds; her hand still gripping the material wrapped around one ankle until she felt the hands that had been pressed into her midsection move upward to cup her naked breasts. 

Shocked, she quickly stood erect and loosed her hold on her panties, exclaiming, "Bobby! Stop it. I said no touching."

"No, you didn't," corrected Bobby as he continued to cup Carole's breasts, letting his thumbs and forefingers rub the tiny nipples while the rest of his fingers dug into the soft and pliable flesh.

Carole could feel the rough texture of Bobby's pants rubbing against her backside as she struggled in his grip. She could feel something else, too, and instinct told her that the boy behind her was getting excited. His 'thing' was what she was feeling and a part of her made her proud that she could elicit such a response from a boy while another part of her screamed that what they were doing was wrong. Very wrong!

Not to be left out, Eddie stepped in front of Carole and demanded, "how about a kiss now, Carole?" Not waiting for an answer, he gripped Carole's face in both hands and planted a demanding kiss on her petulant lips. When she started to open her mouth to protest, Eddie forced his tongue inside, frantically searching for her tongue and dueling with it. While they kissed, Eddie's hand slid down her belly and nestled briefly in her downy pubic bush before his middle finger began caressing her slit, searching for the opening he knew was there and yet not certain how to find it easily. Ultimately, however, his middle digit did find it—the opening to a woman's soul, the prize that all men wanted.

The insertion of the unwanted finger in her vagina made Carole jerk with a reflex motion from the invasion of her most private area, unknown except for the physical examination by her family doctor. The reflex was misunderstood by Eddie as he pulled his lips back from raping Carole's mouth and exclaimed, "She likes it! She likes it, Bobby. The whore came when I fingered her."

Carole shook her head in protest before declaring again, "I am not a whore, Eddie! I'm not! Don't call me that."

Ignoring her protestations, Eddie pressed a leg between her thighs and spread Carole's limbs a little further as he jammed his finger further inside, delighting at the feel of moisture in the tight channel, his finger tip sensing the rippled texture deep inside the virginal opening. Knowing only what he had read or even seen in magazines of his dad's, Eddie proceeded to finger fuck Carole's increasingly juicy pussy, certain in his own mind that he was pleasing her while at the same time he was experiencing something he had only been able to dream. It was then that Eddie felt the telltale release deep down in his belly and he realized that he had cum in his pants! "Dammit," Eddie murmured as he withdrew his finger from Carole's cunt and looked with chagrin at the front of his pants where a widening stain appeared. Embarrassed, Eddie stepped away from Carole and Bobby and immediately turned his back on the couple so as to hide his 'accident'.

While Eddie stood with his back to them, Bobby grasped Carole by the shoulders and turned her to face him. His hands went immediately back to her tortured breasts and, squeezing the nipples tightly with both hands, he pulled her naked body against his and then leaned down to kiss her boyishly. Feeling Carole return his kiss somewhat, Bobby felt it was time...time for him to become a man...time to fuck his first pussy. Switching his hands back to her shoulders, Bobby began to push her back swiftly, placing one leg behind hers' so that she couldn't help but fall backwards. Slipping his hands down Carole's torso, Bobby was able to lower Carole onto her back on the silt-like sand, preventing her from falling by his arms wrapped tightly around her.

Carole could only manage a startled "wh, wh," before Bobby ended up sprawled on top of her. She came to her senses when she realized that Bobby had made her end up on her back intentionally and insisted, "Bobby, get off of me! Get off!"

"I will, I will," Bobby snapped, as he half-rolled onto one side, pinning one of Carole's arms above her head and quickly pulled down his zipper with his free hand. He worked his straining erection out of his pants and turned so that he was lying flat on top of Carole's naked form, immediately beginning to work his hips in an effort to insinuate his hard pencil-dick between Carole's legs and into her pussy.

Carole yelled at the attempted intrusion, "NO! No, Bobby, NO!" and she began to twist her body back and forth while she clamped her legs even tighter together.

Bobby intensified his efforts, rolling slightly on one hip so that he could grip his penis with one hand and force it between Carole's muscular thighs to no avail as she frantically twisted her lower body back and forth while she pushed against Bobby's chest with her free arm. Getting frustrated, Bobby finally yelled at Eddie, "Eddie, dammit, get over here and hold her legs open! I can't get it in."

Eddie had been watching the two struggle ever since he saw Bobby manage to put Carole on her back. He readily understood Bobby's intent and immediately regretted not having thought of doing the very same thing, missing a chance to spill his cum inside her instead of his underwear. The very thought made his cock twitch with renewed excitement and he quickly jumped to help his friend achieve his goal, kneeling at Carol's feet and grabbing a flailing foot in each hand and finally with a lot of effort, managing to spread Carole's legs enough where Bobby was able to plant his knees inside of her thighs. Eddie had a birds-eye view of Bobby's pencil-like prick finally penetrate the folds of flesh between Carole's legs, his cock immediately disappearing inside the tight chute as Bobby rocked his hips.

Eddie let go of Carole's ankles and sat back on his haunches to watch his best friend fuck the still-struggling girl, both amused and enthralled by the sight, mindless of her protestations as Carole kept shaking her head back and forth while she mumbled "no, no, no. Don't"

Carole's rape took but minutes as Bobby's almost-feverish thrusting of his hips quickly culminated in a long, drawn-out sigh from the laboring boy and he stopped his thrusts with his penis buried completely inside Carole's now-reddened, inverted pussy lips. Bobby finally collapsed on top of Carole completely for a brief moment and then wordlessly jumped to his feet. Not even looking at his victim, Bobby bent down and picked up Carole's skirt and wiped his fluid-covered limp dick. 

Satisfied with his final insult, Bobby looked at Eddie and grinned, "that was good, buddy. She has good pussy. You oughta try it."

Eddie certainly didn't need the encouragement, for he had already retrieved his cock from his cum-soaked underwear and was advancing on the still-supine form lying in front of him. Carole hadn't moved a muscle after Bobby had got off of her, looking kind of blankly at the concrete bottom of the bridge over her. Tears streaked her face but didn't seem to be crying any longer. She hardly acknowledged Eddie's presence as he knelt between her legs and aimed his cock at her abused opening before lowering his body on top of the un-resisting girl. Eddie began to rock his hips slowly, purged of any frantic need to release his passion but instead enjoying the first-time thrill of feeling his prick inside of a girl—his very first fuck, one he would never forget.

After awhile, Eddie raised his torso so that he could look between his body and Carole's, watching his dick slide in and out as he moved back and forth. His excitement increased as he watched Carole's breasts jiggle up and down her chest with his motions and he thought he could sense her breathing increase, become more labored, matching his own. He didn't even notice as Bobby crawled out from under the bridge, all of his senses now focused, heightened, by the sensual act of copulation, unbothered that the act was not consensual, somehow convinced that he had been given Carole's permission to use her body. He lowered his upper body down slightly and, bending his neck, captured one of Carole's nipples in his mouth, immediately feeling it thicken and lengthen in response to his sucking, certain that the response was evidence of the girl's passion, her approval of his sexual prowess. When he moved his mouth to Carole's lips, Eddie was pleasantly delighted when her mouth opened to accept him, no longer resisting his searching tongue. 

While they kissed, Eddie used both hands to cup Carole's breasts, letting his thumbs and fingers roll her nipples. He detected an immediate deepening of her breathing and could feel her hips begin to rock upward to meet his thrusts. Coupled with those changes in Carole's submission to Eddie's actions, he noticed that her pussy seemed to be more slippery, more lubricated. The knowledge of all of this caused Eddie's previously reserved fucking to become more animated and forceful as the speed and force of his thrusts quickened and his belly beginning to slap resoundingly against Carole's. Just as Eddie felt his release suddenly overtake him, he heard Carole softly moan as though she was in pain and felt her legs grip his hips, seemingly to prevent his escape, his withdrawal from her now-pulsating vagina. Both of them were breathing as though they had just finished a marathon and Eddie was so drained that he actually collapsed on Carole's tiny body, his weight adding to her labored breathing.

They remained that way for several minutes until Eddie felt his withering cock slip out of Carole's well-lubricated channel. It was then that they both realized that it was getting late for them to arrive home from school. Without a word, Eddie pushed himself off of Carole and rose to his feet. He studied Carole's naked body while he stuffed his prick back in his pants and zipped up, still unbelieving that he had actually got to fuck the best built girl in school. And he was now even more convinced that she had liked it, judging by the way she had responded near the end of his screwing and the way she was still lying there before him, her legs still splayed wide immodestly.

Sensing that Eddie was staring at her nudeness, Carole finally sat up, regaining some of her modesty as she pulled her legs close together and partially covered her breasts with one arm. In a small, pensive voice, Carole looked up at Eddie and asked, "E-Eddie, will you...will you promise that you won't tell anyone what we—you—did? Please?"

Her question took Eddie by surprise for what had been plaguing his mind since he had finished fucking her was "what if she told what had happened". He wasn't kidding himself, because he knew in his own mind that what he and Bobby had done to Carole was rape. Rape, plain and simple. There was no way that they could convince the police that she had been willing. So her concerned questioning brought a huge sense of relief! SHE was concerned that THEY might tell! What a relief!

Eddie managed a lop-sided grin as he answered, "Nah. We won't tell anyone, Carole. Promise. It was just all of us having fun. We won't even mention to anyone that you saw our 'secret place'." He was glad to see the relief spread across Carole's face and stepped toward her to help her up.

"Thank you, Eddie. Thank you for promising you won't tell. I'd die if anyone knew." Carole accepted Eddie's hand to help her to her feet and reached down and picked up her bra from her pile of clothes.

"Sure, sure. No problem," Eddie shrugged off her thanks. "One thing, though...can I, can I feel your hairs down there before we leave?"

The request almost made Carole laugh. After all, neither Bobby nor Eddie had asked if they could touch her anywhere earlier. And now he's asking if he can touch her down there. Carole suppressed her laugh, "Okay. Sure, you can touch me." Actually, Carole wanted Eddie to touch her. She wanted some form of affection, some sense of belonging after what had happened earlier, her first time of having sex, of making love. And, although Bobby was the boy that all the girls in the school wanted as a boyfriend, she now liked Eddie more. He wasn't as good-looking as Bobby or as popular, but there was something about him now that attracted Carole. She stood there expectantly, her bra still in her hand and waited for Eddie to touch her as he stepped closer and faced her, his eyes staring into hers', studying her reaction. Eddie ran his fingers lightly through the downy, dark blonde bush, marveling at the silky feel of her pubic mound. 

Seeing Carole close her eyes as though she was dreaming, Eddie raised his other hand to caress one of her breasts, his finger tips grazing her nipple, eliciting a small shudder from her and Eddie could see the nipple stiffen and goose bumps arise on her smooth skin. He decided to take it one more step further and bent down to kiss Carole's soft lips, pleased when she responded eagerly.

Satisfied, Eddie broke the kiss and stepped back. "Would you, would you like to do this again sometime, Carole? Would you?"

Carole looked up at Eddie as she slipped her bra straps over her shoulders, feeling her heart skip a beat, beginning to feel her first teen love flow through her mind. "Y-yes, Eddie. I'd like that. Just with you, though."

Eddie's ego surged as he realized the promises of her reply. He was going to get to fuck her again! No more trying to even get a feel out of a girl, but being able to screw one when he wanted! He silently watched Carole dress and imagined how it would be when they got together again. He'd be able to watch her strip and wouldn't have to force her at all! Maybe later after he had her a few times, he might even share her with some of his friends. Not Bobby, though. Not him because he might take her away from him.

When Carole was finished dressing, Eddie helped her crawl though the hole in the bridge wall, enjoying the view of her panty-clad butt as she crawled ahead of him. As they made their way up the steep path to the road, Eddie held Carole's hand like they were lovers, unspeaking, but casting knowing smiles at each other. Once they reached the road, Eddie released Carole's hand and announced almost perfunctorily, "see ya tomorrow, babe," and turned to walk towards where he lived.

"Okay, Eddie. See 'ya," Carole echoed as she started for home with a bounce to her step, her schoolgirl crush making her hum and forget any of the unpleasantness and embarrassment she had suffered earlier.

****************

Carole's first crush ended the next day. It ended with a bang. With a crushing embarrassment, a feeling of betrayal. And finally of hatred for the two who had violated her. She had just settled into her seat on the bus when the girl she hated the most, Margaret, walked by her seat and sneered pointedly at Carole, "Two-bit whore."

Her words hit Carole like a slap in the face. Her and Margaret had always been enemies, but never had any actual fights. Maybe just a few unkind words, but nothing like what the girl had just called her. To make it even worse, Carole heard someone in the back of the bus where Margaret always sat yell out "Two-bits".

The next stop was where she learned the name had originated as Bobby got on the bus and, as soon as he got next to her seat asked, "Would you like another quarter, Carole? Two-bits."

Carole felt her face flush deeply, even burning her ears. Bobby had told! The snake had told at least Margaret! She knew they lived next to each other and that must be how Margaret had found out what happened under the bridge. "Oh, God," Carole wailed inwardly as she bowed her head in shame. "What am I going to do?" She felt like getting off the bus at the next stop and not going to school. But she knew she didn't dare. Her mother would have a fit!

Carole suffered through the rest of the trip to school as the taunts and snickering spread as Bobby and Margaret recounted the previous day's events to just about all of the students on the bus. Even her best friend Kathy taunted her when she heard what had happened. "I can't believe you did something like that, Carole!" Carole could only timidly defend herself, insisting that 'they forced her'; they tricked her. Kathy only shook her head in disbelief and distanced herself for the remainder of the ride.

The final betrayal came when Carole ran into Eddie in the hall on her way to her third class. When he saw her, Eddie attempted to avoid her until Carole grabbed his arm and demanded, "Did you know Bobby was going to tell? Did you?"

Eddie shook his head firmly, "No, Carole. I didn't know. Honest. He said he wouldn't."

Just then a friend of Eddie's walked up and slapped Eddie on the back and, looking at Carole knowingly, asked, "you setting up another trip under the bridge, Eddie?"

With a quick sideways glance at Carole, Eddie bragged, "you bet! Wanna come along?"

Carole was crushed! She was certain that Eddie would have either denied the gossip or defend her in some way instead of playing the big man on campus bullshit. She almost ran down the hall as the tears started, not fully hearing Eddie calling after her plaintively. She had actually thought that Eddie cared something for her the day before and had even developed something of a crush for him. But he was just like all of the boys she knew—all they wanted was to get in her pants.

All through the day Carole saw evidence of how the story of what she did with Eddie and Bobby spread through the school. There were accusing looks and sneers, pointed fingers and knowing laughs and more than one person calling her 'two bits'. By the end of the day she was more or less ostracized, even by those she had considered friends. She knew that she wasn't the only ex-virgin in her school, but the way she was treated was as if she was now the school whore. It was depressing, but Carole knew she couldn't change what had happened and accepted her new role. She knew that in time stories about her would become old news and there would be fewer and fewer snide remarks and name-calling. And so it was...Carole endeared her reputation through the rest of her days in school and remained celibate, refusing even the most innocent of dates, until she met Deej...




In the Beginning



EPILOGUE:

For a chronological sequence of Carole's gradual sexual degradation through her twenties, I recommend the reader next read "Friends". Next is "Busted", the story of how she was used by a detective. "The Lesson" takes place shortly before Carole is married and was her first experience in interracial sex. "The Creation" and "The Pickup" chronicle portions of Carole's life after she was married. The names in these two stories were changed purely for variety, but the characters were as presented in this account of Carole's earliest years. "Anchors Aweigh" is an account of one of Carole's first sexcapades while she was married. The above-referenced stories can be found in the Authors listing by searching for stories by saint9767 and oldauthor. All comments are welcome. 



In The Beginning



My name is Robert and my wife's name is Julissa. This is the second marriage for both of us. Julissa was a teenage bride in an abusive marriage and has a twenty year old son. I lost my first wife ten years ago to a traffic accident. Julissa dated numerous men since her divorce. She raised her son, went to school, and began a business career. I dated a few women in those ten years; however, I read and watched a lot of porn and became engrossed with stories of hotwives and men who enjoyed watching their wives with other men. I met Julissa a few years ago at a seminar in Las Vegas. She was one of a handful of women at the resort/casino that spent any time around the pool's topless area. I invited her to dinner that week and we started dating. I was engrossed by thi petite Latina goddess with the all-over tan and large tits. After a year we got married and opened a business together. Julissa's beauty was not only good for sales, but she also offered eye candy for clients and business associates. 

I bought her clothes that showed off her body, half bras that pushed her tits up but left the top of her breasts naked, blouses that were sheer enough to see through or were very low cut to show off her tits. I chose short skirts either tight around her ass or pleated like a cheerleaders, and very high heels (4"-5"). The clothes helped her slip into the role, I think. She liked the attention that she got when she wore them, and I encouraged it. Men often gawked at her or whistled or just followed her around a room with their eyes. She got into teasing on her own. The clothes made it easy, and I never objected. I liked it, seeing her getting so much attention. The men practically drooled over her. She keeps her pussy shaved now and wears very sheer panties or thongs or nothing at all. She liked the guys to have something "nice to see" when she crossed her legs or bent over. She buys the sexy clothes for herself now and she doesn't always wear a bra when we go out in the evening now. 

She has stopped wearing panties as well. She likes to "flash the men once in while" she says. She likes to point out men who have erections to me after she has given them a "quick look." She giggles, and I enjoy being the man by her side. Julissa stands just a fraction over five-feet, which is why her legs appear longer with her 4 or 5 inch high heels. She manages her weight around 109-110 pounds and has beautiful long jet black waist length hair. She gets a manicure and pedicure every few weeks and a bikini wax for her smooth pubes. Soon those stories of hotwives and open marriages began arousing me again and I yearned to watch my wife being fucked by other men. My attention was nurtured because she always dressed sexy and she had always liked the attention that it brought her. But to my surprise and delight, she began taking it further. She would find reasons to stand on tip-toes in the room to get something off of the top shelf or bend over for a long time as she read the titles on the books on the bottom shelf of the bookcase, finally selecting one and walking out of the room with it. 

If she was wearing shorts, either one of these actions pulled her tight shorts sharply into her butt-crack and accentuated her nice-round, Latina rump. If she was bending over, you could even see the seam pressing into her labia. Her pussy slit looked great like that. Everyone in the room would gasp and she would act as though she didn't even notice. If she was wearing a miniskirt, either action would display the bottom edge of her ass cheeks; and if she was bending over far enough, you could see her pouty vulva. On one occasion, she was wearing sheer, translucent panties and did this. The nearly clear panties pressed into her crotch and spread her fat pussy lips for all to see. She began going topless or nude in the backyard and around the pool and spa. Finally I set a plan to expose her more to others. In bed one night after some love-making, I told her I wanted to take her to our local hangout and have her flash other men and see what happened.

"You really are a pig, but what the heck. Okay!"

The rest of the week I just couldn't think of anything else and I eagerly awaited the upcoming Friday. When it finally came, Julissa wanted to be on her own while she got dressed and I waited impatiently in the living room. I almost lost my breath when she came in to me. She looked wonderful! Sexy! Her long black hair was brushed out straight to her waist, and her dark brown eyes, which seemed to be bigger than they actually were thanks to the make-up, gleamed with her smile. Black-strapped 5" high heels, black stockings and a knee-long black skirt and a blouse in bright red completed the picture. She swirled in front of me, revealing a tiny black thong.

"Like?" she asked.

"OH YES!"

The night went well. Julissa danced most of the time, parading around in front of the other patrons. The men in the bar seemed to flock around our table, even though they couldn't know that she was almost naked under her clothes. Finally the evening ended and we walked the long walk home. A couple of blocks from our house there's a little park, and when we passed it, I dragged in Julissa in the shade of the trees. I unbuttoned her skirt and let it fall on the ground. She shivered but I didn't think it was from the cold because the night was warm in Arizona. My instincts were right. When my hand got in contact with her pussy, I could feel that it was very wet and slightly open. A finger slipped in without any hindrance, as did the second and with a little coaxing so did the third. I began to finger-fuck my hot wife in the park, slowly, slowly, until with a moan, she sank down on the ground out of control. I followed her while her pussy squeezed my fingers as she had an orgasm.

As soon as Julissa had regained her strength, we continued our walk home. I had her skirt and thong in my hands, and I dropped a little behind her and watched her swinging ass-cheeks as she walked. She kept looking around afraid that any of our neighbors should see her half naked, but she didn't object, and walked boldly on with her pussy and ass on display on our own street. I now realized she was a true exhibitionist and would probably go even further if coaxed. As soon as we had entered our house, she tore off her blouse, kicked her shoes away and grabbed a grip on my shirt. She swung me around and almost pushed me into the bedroom and down on the bed. She hastily undressed me while I passively lay on the bed. Never before had I seen her as hot as she was at that moment! She didn't bother with any foreplay, but climbed over me, straddled me, gripped my cock and steered it with one sweeping movement into her waiting pussy. 

She was even wetter now than when I fingered her in the park. She rode me with long, deep strokes, and I could feel her pussy clamp around my cock the entire time. I myself was as hot as she wa, and I couldn't hold back for as long as I had wanted. I wanted this incredible fuck to last all night. It was a fuck. It wasn't a love making. When she felt my semen shoot up her cervix she screamed out her lust, something I'd never heard her do. She was a moaner, not a screamer. Or so I thought!

"YES! Give it to me!

A few weeks had passed when we were out drinking with my friend Dave. It was getting late so we left the bar and headed home to carry on partying. Time had passed and Julissa got up and went to the bathroom, Dave turned to me and said, "You are lucky, Julissa is pretty hot and those tits are hard to take your eyes off of them." 

I nodded then without thinking I replied, "Do you want to see them?" 

He responded as soon as I finished, "Fucking right I would!"

When Julissa came back, I took a deep breath and said, "Tonight is the night you have to do what we discussed a month ago about flashing!"

She shook her head as she said, "Alright what do you want me to do?" 

I looked at Dave, winked then spoke, "Dave and I are going to pick out a outfit for you to wear and I want you to change into it right here." I pointed to the middle of the floor. She spat back at me, "I am not doing that in front of Dave!" 

I sighed, "Then you really did not mean what you said when you agreed it would be fun."

She stuttered back, "I meant it. Go on then."

Dave and I went in her closet, after a few minutes we pulled out a black mini-skirt and a silver silk top that tied in the middle. I handed it to her and she moved to the middle of the room. Before she got started I stopped her, "Let's make this more interesting, I want Dave to undress you."

She thought for a few seconds then reacted, "Okay, I will do everything you want. If that is what you want then that's what I'll do."

She stood still as Dave moved toward her. She was wearing a button up blouse and a thigh-long skirt. Dave got behind her and slowly pulled the skirt down. She stepped out of it. As it hit the floor, he raised his hands up and started unbuttoning her blouse. As the last button came loose, the white blouse fell open showing her low-cut bra. I could not help notice that her nipples were pushing through the fabric and she was enjoying Dave's stares. This was turning her on. Seeing she was aroused, I decided to take it as far as it would go. I got up and stood in front of her and slid my hand in her panties and ran my fingers across her lips. She was dripping wet and she rolled her eyes as I passed over her clit. Meanwhile, Dave had stopped and backed away to watch me. I gestured with my head for him to get back to what he was doing. He nervously slid his hands around her chest, brushing over her tits and found the clasp to her bra. 

He unclipped the fastener and pulled the cups off of her breasts. He was pulling his hands away when I grabbed both his wrists and pulled them back on to Julissa's chest. She opened her eyes and gave me a glare that could kill, but I looked back as if to say, "This is what I want", and she nodded. I let Dave play with her tits for a few minutes then said, "Okay, that's enough of that, let's do something else.

Julissa thought for a second then smiled, "I don't think it is fair that I am the only one naked. I want you two to strip off as well? If I'm going to have to do this, I may as well see how you are reacting." 

I looked at Dave and asked, "How about it? I'm game." He agreed so we both got naked, of course we both had erections, which made Julissa giggle. 

She said, "What now?" 

The tone in her voice had changed, she sounded almost excited. I thought for a moment then said, "I tell you what, from this point on I want you to do what you want and I mean ANYTHING you want." I was taking a chance she would put her clothes on and kick Dave out.

Instead she responded, "Anything? Okay!" 

Then she walked over and sat between us on the couch. She rest one hand on my knee and the other on Dave's; gently and very slowly she began sliding them up our legs. It seemed a lifetime before she reached the top and wrapped her hand around my cock. I looked over and saw her fingers close around Dave's shaft. She jacked us off for a little bit then she leaned back and closed her eyes. Dave and I did not react at first, but it was not long until we did. We both ran our hands up her skirt and began fingering her pussy and clit. Dave pulled his hand out and untied her top, and with one hand, he groped her tit and he sucked on the other one. I got in between her legs and ran my cock inside her. She was letting out some quiet moans as I slid in and out of her. We stayed like that for a few minutes. Then we went to change positions. 

As Dave moved in front of her, she sat up and said, "Not his." 

I whispered in her ear, "Go ahead, pleaseeeeee.!" 

She laid back and closed her eyes. Dave has a pretty big cock I would guess it to be about 81/2 inches long and as round as a flashlight with D cells. I saw Julissa's eyes widen when she saw it. He shuffled closer aiming his cock towards her pussy. He ran it through her labia a couple of times then slowly pushed his hips forward. I watched his cock disappear inside my wife, inch by inch. I must say it was the most erotic thing I have ever seen. I backed off as Dave thrust in and out of her, she did not even realize I was not sitting next to her. She was panting in pleasure. After fifteen minutes, I got a pain in my stomach as I watched Dave's balls twitch, realizing he was unloading his semen in my wife's pussy. "Jesus, had we gone too far?"

Dave pulled out and moved away. I pulled Julissa on top of me and slid back inside her. I pointed behind her, and Dave saw this and moved around. When Dave was in place, I pulled her forward some more. I nearly came when I felt Dave's cock slide in her along with mine; both stretching Julissa's petite pussy. Julissa began moving faster and faster and was nearly screaming. Dave pulled out because he was about to ejaculate, but Julissa quickly said, "Don't stop!"

I replied, "We are just switching places." 

Dave got under her and I got behind her, then we resumed. It was not long until I could control it no longer. I pulled out and forced my cock in her mouth and shot my load. I rolled back panting. A few seconds later, Dave raised Julissa off of him. As soon as he fell out of her, she reached down and moved over him. Just as she lowered down, the next load of his cum shot out. Before anymore had the chance to spurt out, she had him back inside her. This nearly made me cum a second time? I was watching another guy cumming inside my wife. We took a break then fucked some more. The following week we did it again, and we still do it every now and then.

Just a few weeks ago, I was driving home from a corner store and there was Julissa watering some plants in our front yard, while in a very short black and white sundress. She bent over several times revealing her bare pussy to any passersby who happened to look her way from the street. Sometimes I mention seeing her flashing the world just to find out if she's even aware of what she's doing. Most of the time, however, I get my own little personal thrill by it and keep quiet. I guess as the years have passed, I have also seen enough men notice Julissa. It usually makes me feel good to know that so many men find her attractive and want to possess her. But I also know that most men would jump on any halfway decent looking woman in a second if allowed, so it was no wonder that many heads turned when Julissa walked by with her tanned, athletic body. Anyway, with each and every gawking came a feeling of wanting to see how far she would take it this time. 

Wherever we were in public, I'd let her know; not that she usually needed me to tell her who was watching and when. We purposely set out on some days to tease the hell out of some guy or guys. She'd dress in something that prominently displayed her best assets; a tight, small butt and firm large breasts. It was quite a thrill for me and an enormous ego boost for her. She'd get pretty daring at times. One of our favorite tricks is to go shopping for shoes. She'd wear the shortest of skirts in her wardrobe and usually light-colored thongs; that were often wet with anticipation by the time she sat down for a fitting. The last time we went, she didn't wear any underwear. When the salesman went to slip on her shoe, she extended and lifted her leg so that her cleanly-shaven pussy was in the direct line of sight of this young guy who nearly missed her foot when he went to put the shoe on her. It was both funny and exciting to see his expressions. Julissa just gave him a sexy smile while I pretended to be looking at some merchandise across the room.

It was that last incident that got me thinking about what it would be like to see Julissa actually seduce and have sex with another man. But I also knew that that was crossing a very dangerous line and that if our marriage were to survive, it would have to be handled in a very delicate manner. We had already sampled area with our friend Dave, but what about a complete stranger? I wasn't even sure I should mention it to Julissa directly. So for months, I dropped hints to her of my fantasy, hoping that she would pick up on it and just make it happen somehow. Then one day, she called me at work and asked me to come home an hour early because she had a surprise for me. She said she was nervous about it and hoped it was what I wanted. She said to be very quiet and to come through the back door of our house and to slowly walk towards the living room without saying anything. I followed her instructions in hopes the surprise was what I had hinted for. It was!

There on the couch was a guy we both knew and liked, Mark, from a business we deal with often. Mark is about 30 years old, and very well-spoken and well-dressed. He's educated, physically fit and has always had a little twinkle in his eye for my wife. Julissa was parading around the living room preparing some finger food and mixed drinks. She was dressed very casually, however, in jeans and a T-shirt and seemed to be pretending that this was a half-social, half-business meeting. When she finally saw me staring from behind a doorway, she winked at me as to say "Is this Okay?" I winked back that it was what I wanted. I later learned that she didn't want to dress too suggestively, just in case I nixed the whole thing. Their conversation was a little tedious as I was anxious for Julissa to change the tone and make a move. But after about a half an hour, Julissa inched her way closer to Mark on the sofa and the conversation got more personal. 

At one point, Mark joked about something and momentarily placed his hand on Julissa's thigh as people will do at times. When he went to remove it, Julissa grabbed his wrist and placed it back on her upper leg and said something about people should touch each other more often. This was it, the beginning, and all of a sudden my heart jumped. Less than a minute later, they embraced and began kissing. Mark reached under the back of her white shirt, exposing her back to me. He stopped for a second to say he was concerned about me showing up, but Julissa reassured him it was okay and reached into his crotch through his pants then climbed onto his lap while still kissing. It was happening so fast. My blood raced and thoughts of interrupting came to mind more than once. Mark now slipped his hands down the back of her jeans. Then he broke from the kiss and unbuttoned her pants while Julissa removed her T-shirt. 

She wasn't wearing a bra and Mark began immediately nibbling on her tits. A few minutes later, she dropped to the floor and pulled off Mark's pants and underwear to expose a massive cock that I am sure she wasn't expecting. There was my wife, bare-chested, with her jeans dangling around her ankles and thong pulled up her crack by Mark who tugged on the material as she swallowed him whole. All of this occurring within a few minutes of Mark touching her thigh, and it was astonishing to watch Julissa perform. Mark lay back, continuing to tug on Julissa's thong as she rocked back and forth with his cock plunging into her mouth. The panties looked like a thong now. My wife then began reaching back and frantically played with her swollen pussy. She occasionally gagged on Mark's cock, but worked it hard. She really looked like she was enjoying the challenge and exhibition of it all. Eventually she stood up and removed her thong.

Mark guided her back down to get on all fours on the floor so that he could begin eating her pussy from behind. She was facing me and I could see her every expression as this man worked his mouth into her from the rear. She kept throwing her head back, and sometimes gritted her teeth. A few times we made direct eye contact, but I had to be careful not to be spotted by Mark. Julissa dropped to her elbows and perched her ass up high. Mark was still rock hard and asked if she was ready.




In The Beginning



Julissa yelled,"Go ahead give it to me, just give it to me hard and fast!" 

Mark positioned his cock to enter my wife from the same rear position, which was great, since I could see that initial expression of pleasure on Julissa's face. As he worked his way inside, Julissa gasped and pounded the floor with her fist. Mark got hold of her hips and pulled her farther onto him. When he plunged all the way into her, Julissa let out a scream then began getting into the rhythm of the act. They screwed in that position for a few minutes, then Mark leaned back and Julissa kind of went back with him as she now almost sat straight up on him, still facing me. His hands were all over her tits, and I could see how erect her nipples were as he pinched them. I could also see his cock sliding in and out of her from this position as she rubbed her clit. She continued to moan, perhaps more than she has with me, and rode him for a few more minutes. Julissa asked if she could finish him orally. She spun around and kind of moved him a little so that I could see them in profile during the finale. 

It didn't take much for him to come, and when he did, Julissa evidently didn't pull him out of her mouth fast enough and ended up taking a portion of his load in her mouth and the other portion on the side of her face and neck which I could see easily. I could tell it was plentiful, because Julissa strained to keep the jizz from overflowing from her mouth onto the floor. I was further surprised to see her swallow a lot of it. Although she claimed to love the taste of me, I thought that was a fairly intimate act, if not a whorishly dangerous thing to do. But she gobbled it up! Afterwards, Mark left and I was able to come out of hiding. I had this need to physically and emotionally inspect my wife. She had put her thong and shirt back on. But I was so horny that I almost immediately removed them while asking her questions about how it felt. At first she was reluctant, but there was no denying that she really liked it. 

She said she got off on the performance aspect as much as the physical pleasure. I saw her pussy still damp and raw, and traces of cum in her hair. As I fingered her, I could tell that she had just had something massive inserted into her. I fucked her on the couch to see how she'd feel on my cock then finished, like her lover, by coming in her mouth as I rammed my cock down her throat while she threw her head back over the arm of the sofa. She swallowed all of my cum and sucked out the last drops. I had mixed emotions the rest of the night. Julissa showered away most of the external evidence. As the weeks passed, however, the urge struck a few more times. Julissa seduced Mark again. But then she decided to expand on her fantasies and went after a variety of other men, including our 22-year-old pool boy and a wealthy, but older real estate executive. In all, over the space of a couple months, Julissa fucked, sucked or seriously fondled to orgasm six near-strangers.

Robert



In The Beginning



We kept our panties on, not for long though.

Other than the, what I am told, are quite usual schoolgirl crushes on teachers and older girls at school I had absolutely no conscious sexual feelings towards other females until late into my teens. Obviously, I was aware of lesbianism and had heard vague comments about bi-sexuality but they did not occupy my mind or the conversations of the friends I had at that time. Boys and 'doing it' were far more interesting. 

It may not seem it now, but I was a well brought up girl stuffed full of 'proper' values and conditioned to behave well and do as I was told. I was not terribly promiscuous during my teens and I whizzed through them with nothing more than the loss of my cherry and a few male partners before moving into my more turbulent twenties when my sexuality became more focused.

I was at university when I first came into contact with women who preferred women and that was both lecturers and some of the other girls. Again, although, I felt no attraction to them and no real interest for, among other things, most were so ugly and very manly. The cropped hair and dungarees look has never appealed to me and I find nothing whatsoever attractive in unshaved armpits!

I was in with a fair sized group of both genders and although there was some sex going on between a few of them it was far less than I had imagined and what I guess is prevalent nowadays. I became quite close friends with three other girls, Annie, Susie and Clara. We became a sort of team working together very often and spending much of our spare time in each other's company. 

It was near to end of term and we had finished the exams and were sort of binging out a bit as the rest of our group gradually drifted off home for the holidays. The four of us had stayed on longer to attend a party and we had been drinking far too much for several nights in a row. We were in Clara's flat, she was rich, lying around watching TV and drinking wine when Susie, the most flamboyant of us came out with.

"God I feel so fucking horny I could fuck anyone right now." 

That was how she talked most of the time and we paid little attention to her swearing. 

Surprisingly for her, Anne also chimed in that she felt the same way and felt that she was missing out on life being at uni for her friends at home who had got jobs seemed to be having so much more fun than we were.

We were now all a little drunk and a couple of the girls started dancing to the music that was always playing and someone said something about not needing men meaning, of course, for dancing, but we all joined in slagging off the other sex. All of us started dancing and generally having a good time just as we had so many times before, but this time something changed. What it was I have no idea, but somehow when the fast music changed to a slower number we were dancing as two couples and then the four of us joined together our arms around each other's shoulders. We moved around in a circle now and then all shuffling towards the middle so that our bodies touched. Still I had no sexual thoughts or any hint of arousal but, as I learned later, Clara and Susie did.

It was Susie who out of the blue suggested that we should play strippers.

Her idea, which I guess was cunning really, was that we should each in turn do a striptease to the music. Daft and slightly unbelievable I know, but then we were only nineteen and twenty and a little high on hash and booze..

Clara, who was the beauty amongst us with a figure, bum, boobs and legs to die for, started and we sat around clapping as she slipped her tee shirt off and wiggled out of her jeans. Susie, an around big girl, but with everything in proportion, went next and she was also quickly down to her bra and pants then I did my bit and then slim, svelte Annie peeled her tee shirt and vee-knecked sweater off, she had not as usual bothered with a bra. So there we were four quite attractive girls sitting in a flat in our underwear. We drank more booze, mainly vodka and we smoked some weed, as we called it then, so that we were all now quite high. Hence, when Susie said.

"Seems daft to stop here girls, after all strippers don't do they?" 

One of us asked how far she thought we should go and she got up and, to a heavy beat number. Slithered out of her bra and wiggled her knickers seductively and slowly, just like a stripper, down her legs. Beaming at us she said.

"How about this for starters?"

She had big tits, but then she was big all over. I looked at her breasts and compared them to mine for I too am, as they say, well-endowed. Hers sagged far more than mine and, along with her tummy, thighs and bum wobbled as she moved.

I have always had big tits. But then, I have always also had black hair and worn glasses. My mum bought my first bra when I was eleven. I was so proud at being the first girl in my year at school to wear one, although I had been a bit 'top dog' for some time because of the big tits.

As I limped through puberty they kept growing and my baby fat melted away. That just made them look bigger and I moved into a phase of my life when I was ashamed of the bloody great things hanging down from my chest. I could not do sports and running was a nightmare. The stares and leers of boys and men got to me and I had a fairly miserable time as a teenager.

Over the years, as they have grown to their double D current size, I have got used to having them. I have become accustomed to men saying hello to them, to them being stared at and ogled, to being careful not to move too fast, to buying expensive bras, to wearing loose clothes and not low cut tops. 

Looking back, I suppose it was only a bit of fun, a part of growing up and testing our sexuality. Nothing more, I thought, and soon all of us had done our thing and we were all naked. Clara was standing up with the rest of us sitting when she began dancing again, well more like gyrating on the spot, and said.

"This is what real strippers do." 

Her hands started gliding up and down her body and she cupped her pert, yet full breasts and began playing with them as she accompanied that with some low moans from her mouth. 

"God C don't forget how horny I am," Susie chimed in.

Clara replied. "So what the hell do you think I am?" 

Susie stood up and also began dancing and touching herself and Anne joined her so I did as well. We gravitated into a circle again each of us cupping our breasts until Susie said. 

"This is too much, my body is going fucking crazy." 

Then somehow she and Clara were in each other's arms and they kissed. 

The atmosphere got to me, it hit me right between my legs and in both breasts and nipples at the same time. It aroused me. Thus, when the others pulled me up I did not resist. The four of us all kissed each other. Not really that deeply at first and there was little roaming of hands. We fell onto the double bed and I found myself in Annie's arms kissing her. She touched my breasts saying.

"You don't mind do you Tina?" 

To be truthful I didn't mind, but I said nothing as I heard her adding.

"'cos you do have fabulous tits love, not like my pimples."

I was, of course aware that I had big tits, but then I had always had them and was used to them. It was nice though to have someone tell me that, even if it was a girl

Anyway it went on like that for some before we all fell asleep from too much drink and dope.

So that was my first experience. Nothing very deep and nothing that intimate, just girls messing around. Or so I thought!

Nothing was said about it the next morning and we went off on the summer vacation. I thought it had been a one off for nothing was said when we returned in late September. However, it happened again a week or so after we started back and this time there was a lot more caressing and breast touching. It became a regular, probably weekly event for a month or so. The first few times we accompanied it with loads of booze and smoking and made excuses, or reasons I guess, for deciding to strip off, but each time we ended up kissing and touching each other. Still not that deep or heavy and so far, not an orgasm in sight.

Annie suddenly decided that she no longer wanted to be at university and she left leaving Susie, Clara and me. They were both a year older than me and far more experienced sexually. They also had much more outgoing personalities and so I sort of followed their lead. After Annie left we stopped doing it for a while not by saying anything, but just by it of fizzling out.

During ther Christmas vac,hisClara and I were invited by a guy on our psychology course to a wedding in Edinburgh in Scotland. It was a posh do so we both bought nice dresses, something neither of us possessed. We were staying in a small flat owned by the groom's family and we decided to have a short holiday before the wedding. During that, w got to know a few of the groom's friends and became quite friendly with two of them not, I hasten to add to the extent of having sex with them. Well not quite!

It was a really lovely wedding and after the reception finished, oddly around eight pm, we had a drink in the bar with the two guys we had befriended and then they took us to the flat. We asked them in and, of course we started kissing. There was more drink and I was lying on the settee with my one and the lovely Clara was sitting on the lap of the other. The lights were very dim so we did not know what the others were doing; that was quite erotic.

Ian, the guy I was with, was now fairly drunk and was quite noticeably slurring his words, but nevertheless was still doing a good job of kissing and caressing me. Suddenly, though, there was a bit of a commotion and Clara's guy went to the toilet. The sounds told their own story. He was being sick. I carried on with Ian for a while as Clara tended to her bloke. My dress was undone to beneath my boobs and he had pushed my skirt up so that it was bunched around my waist.

Clara came in and said that her guy was going and Ian, the sod, said that he would make sure he got home ok. Then they were gone.

I sat there extremely frustrated my dress still undone as Clara returned to the room. Her dress was also unzipped at the back and she was holding it together. I saw that her bra was on the floor.

We looked at each other and she said.

"Bastards aren't they men. Just when you need them this happens." She went to get her bra letting go of the dress as she did. It fell away from her revealing her lovely breasts that I had seen so many times. She sat beside me. "Were things going well Tina, with Ian?" she asked rather pointedly looking at my unbuttoned dress. 

"What do you think?" I replied going to start doing the buttons up. 

Very huskily as she put her hand on mine she replied.

"I think that you should leave those buttons undone Tina. We both have some unfinished business don't we?"

Suddenly, I felt scared. Of course, all the other times we had touched and kissed flooded into my mind, but they had been different. This seemed very grown up, big girls stuff and I was not sure that I was ready for it. But I couldn't resist her. I was aroused from what Ian and I had been doing and now what she seemed to be and proposing. Time seemed to stand still for a while. She said and did nothing, but simply sat there her breasts naked so close to me, her hand holding my wrist. Then slowly, gently she started pulling my hand as she whispered, 

"Colin was just doing this when he got sick," as she pressed my hand against her breast. "They're not that bad are they Tina?" she added with small laugh in her voice

My heart was now really pounding, I was hellishly nervous. The lack of the other girls changed this from messing around to a total act of lesbianism, my juvenile mind reconciled. She repeated the question as she pressed my hand more firmly against her deliciously soft boob. 

"They're not are they Tina, you like my breasts even if they made Colin sick don't you?" she went on with a giggle.

This was an overt, very obvious and totally clear seduction I realised. An invitation to join her in sex. Not the fumblings of the four of us where the numbers afforded a degree of isolation from the enormity of the act and the, dubious maybe, justification to each of us that we were just having fun. No, I felt then with just Clara and me that I was being asked to go to the next stage, to where I had never been before. I was being invited, gently yet persuasively, to take a step I had never thought I would take, to move into an area of sexuality that I had not imagined would ever be for me; having full sex with another girl. As those thoughts roared round my mind, I was thinking of the other three girls and Clara was the last one I would have selected to be bi.

Confused and concerned I sat there for what seemed like ages as she moved my fingers on her breast. As she did this, the thoughts about the other girls were conditioning my brain, but I suddenly acknowledged with a huge jolt, that the feelings in my fingers from the soft flesh were conditioning my body.

I looked at her and, as you see in the movies, her face started moving so slowly towards mine. This was it, I knew for sure. Open my lips or move mine towards her and she would kiss me and I would be gone, I knew that. Move my head and we could shrug this off as just a drunken mistake and no face would be lost. I took the coward's way I suppose and did nothing putting the ball firmly back in her court.

Then, of course, she did kiss me. And kiss me and kiss me and kiss me. She licked all over my face and planted little kisses everywhere. As she did that, her hands caressed my breasts easing each in turn out from the bra. I was gone. I was hers. Hers to take to that next step, hers to take on journey of discovery. But it was not really against my will. I was not an unwilling companion on that journey. I wanted it and the more she kissed and stroked me so the greater that want became.

We went to the bedroom removing our dresses as we got there and laid on the bed, me in bra and panties, Susie in just her knickers. We cuddled and continued kissing and caressing each other. The more it went on the greater was my involvement and the easier I found it to touch her. I recognized this and that the sheer sexual power of my feelings outweighed, by far, any other considerations. I gave in completely to my feelings putting any considerations other than sexual pleasure completely out of my mind. I entered a new compartment in my life.

My bra came off and Susie murmured just as men do. "God you have gorgeous breasts Tina." 

We rubbed, caressed, stroked and cupped and then later, kissed the other's breasts with me participating to at least an equal level as her. We fumbled our hands between each other's legs and we managed a mutual climax. It was the most powerful one I had ever had and I was amazed.

We talked for a while Susie telling me that even before the episodes with the girls at college she had feelings for females and had messed around a few times. Naturally, this chat moved onto my feelings that I had extreme difficulty putting into words but she helped. I was very naïve, well certainly compared to now, and had little idea of the broader aspects of sex and sexuality. I, naturally, I suppose associated sex with a girl as being lesbian and this worried me but she, to an extent, put my mind at rest by sort of summing it all up by saying.

"Don't get it wrong Tina, I love a cock as much as the next woman, it's just that I like tits and pussies as well."

Those words not only, to some level, explained the situation to me but also brought the mood back to sex. 

We took our panties off and made love again. Once more, it was only with our hands between the others legs although of course we fed our mouths greedily on the other's tits. How many times we made love I can't recall, but it didn't include either of us going down, or even trying to on the other.

Nothing more happened that night. I suppose neither of us were really experienced enough with men to have fully explored oral sex with them and possibly, therefore, that was a bridge that was a little too far for us to approach, let alone cross, at that stage of our sexual educations. 



In the Beginning



The control. Giving up the control. I miss that. Letting you be the one to say move. See. Taste. Fuck. Cum. Now. Cum now you dirty slut. 

How did it begin? I blame the internet. Late nights alone in the computer lab. I found online kink and thought "What? There are others like me?" 

We all shared stories. We shared ideas. We got each other hot and aroused. Then we went off, Alone. Until you. 

You. 

You were different. 

A couple of sentences and I knew. Something made me call you. Then visit. 

That first time. 

I'd had sex, I'd been fucked. This was different. This was what I wanted. This was what I had wanted, needed. This is what I had dreamt about since the first time my hand reached down between my legs. I was not alone.

The first was I came over was to see if we had chemistry in person. Awkward at first. We got take-out. Noodles. Chatted. Laughed. Hours. Had some wine to lighten the mood. It can be much harder in person to admit your darker side. 

You had experience. I had none. There were rules. Rules? We had to lay down rules so nobody got hurt. I thought getting hurt was the point. Not quite that way, we cannot have anyone getting too hurt. I did not even know where to begin. I just wanted to let you own me. Take my body and fuck it, and suck it, and twist it, and turn it, and pinch it and burn it, and slam into it, and, and, and fill it, and empty it until I was gone. Until that ache was met. Until I was numb. 

Rules first. No rape. No scars. Ok. Those sounded good. Umm... 

Can I piss on you? Feed you my shit? Puke? 

OK, my list just got longer. Nope, don't think that is my thing. 

Ok, I think we need to slow this down. I had no idea. This is why there are rules. 

I begin to understand. 

I thought this was going to be simple. We had chatted online for hours, weeks. Finally a phone call, two, ten. Scheduling them late at night, certain I would be alone. Innocent conversation turning into lurid step by step guides. Promises of nothing until the next call. Promises of quick calls in the afternoon. Slipping into a restroom, slipping a finger into my pussy making sure I was wet. I was your naughty slut. I was your daytime librarian. Constant state of arousal. If the call was missed, if the finger was dry, punishment was promised. 

Finally, we could meet. I begged. Pleaded. You needed me to wait until exams were over. I did. I made it through those fucking exams. Then we could meet. You were the smart one. You knew I would be gone as soon as I crossed your threshold.

Now we are here. I am learning the rules. I am seeing there are layers here. 

For this you had told me what to wear. Long black skirt. Tall black boots. Thigh-Hi tights. Black shirt. Black bra. No makeup. Take a shower first. I was ready. I was out the door and on my way. That was the longest ride. Green line. Red line. A blur. Checking street names. Walking. Steps slowing. Heart racing. Two blocks up this way. Turn right. Then three blocks. First house. Go through gate. Ring bottom doorbell. Such clear instructions. Before I have entirely collected my thoughts the doorbell rings and I am making this list. This fucking list. Is fucking on the list?

The first night passes with talking, instruction. I need to learn. This needs to be safe, for both of us. There is chemistry. Chemistry you can taste in the air. How was this going to begin? After pancakes but before lunch? Have a bologna sandwich and then get down on all fours? You had only said you were in control. You were in charge. You would handle things. You knew when the time was right. 

Finally it was time. You took my hand, and said those words, those words that would change everything about me, "Now I am in charge." You led me to the room. The room where everything would happen. Where so many things would happen. As we approached the doorway you asked if I was sure, I nodded my head, you said "Say it." I said I was sure and you handed me the collar. My first. I was yours. We walked into the room.

I remember wanting to run, throw up, fuck, eat, get a glass of water, and stop everything. How strange. I figured it would start with some kisses. Then you would ask me to suck your cock, I'd be bad and you'd spank me. I had read some books. I had chatted online. I could not have been more wrong. 

I followed you across the room. "You fucking dirty slut." Slap. That first slap I will never forget. I almost came at once. You know how there can be defining moments in your life? My head rocked back. You grabbed both my hands into yours spun me around lifting my hands over my head and attaching them to something. 

My hands were attached over head. You grabbed my skirt. Down. Shirt Ripped. Naked. 

Now staring. Staring. Watching Waiting. An eternity. I see a wall. I feel your eyes. I have been waiting so long for this. Wet with anticipation. Fear. 

You finally walk up behind me. Cup my breasts. Stroke nipples with your thumbs. Pinch. Harder. Pulling. "all mine" you say. One hand keeps stroking the hand starts sliding down. Finally reaching my mound. You place your palm over my whole vagina. Lightly touching. I moan.

You stroke the inside of my thighs. Up. You move to my lips as your other hand clamps down on a nipple. Your finger plunges in. Quickly your finger moves in and out as I strain to move with you. Finally your other hand moves down and rubs my clit. You tell me to cum for you. Within seconds I feel it building up inside. I need the release. "Cum my dirty slut" you whisper against my ear. As your finger moves faster and faster inside my pussy, your other hand circling and rubbing my clit I finally cum. Growling as I do. 

You walk away. Leave me hanging there. "You will do just fine."

As I stand there. Dripping. Lesson one. Pain. Slap. Hand on ass. "You came. Now punishment. Then come again."

Routine is set. Then you need pain to come. Simple really. Training. Rewire the brain. 

Slap. Slap. 20 slaps. My ass is red. sore. I will remember. Then you grab the vibrator. I come hard and fast. You undo the chains. Lay me down. Sponge me off. I sleep.



In The Beginning



I had thoughts, sexual thoughts, of being with a man since way back when. If I was honest with myself I would admit having some thoughts of it as an adolescent. The feelings grew stronger as I got older. I knew that a friend from university was gay and other friends had told me he had a crush on me. As I reached my mid twenties I thought about contacting him just so I could engineer some kind of opportunity to act out some of my thoughts. I never got round to it. My thoughts remained just that, thoughts. 

So, what were my thoughts? Well I fantasised about giving another man a blowjob. I did not find men attractive per se. I did not want to do anything else with a man. Did not particularly fantasise about being blown by a guy. It was the thought of sucking a man's penis that got me incredibly turned on. More turned on than anything else I had ever fantasised about. 

Those thoughts were with me for a number of years. Eventually I discovered chatrooms on the internet and this caused an explosion (in more ways than one!). I began to have cyber sex. That does not do it justice. I became addicted to cyber sex. I would take every opportunity to go online and share my fantasies with other guys. This exploration continually surprised me. I could not believe how excited I became when I pretended to have sex with guys as we swapped accounts of what we would do to each other. 

Over time I started to have regular sessions with the same guy, Rob. He was a gay guy, about the same age as me and took things nice and slow with me. He knew exactly my situation. Perhaps I should explain it to you as well. I was married. Nobody knew about this side of me and nobody could ever know. 

Time and time again I chatted to Rob. Describing to him what I wanted to do to him. With him. Getting incredibly turned on as we chatted about it. Masturbating simultaneously with him as we typed. We shared countless orgasms. 

One day as we chatted, as we told each other how turned on we were, as we described our state of arousal, he asked me to send him a photograph. I had always needed the anonymity of the internet but the thought of showing myself to him was overwhelming. With a little persuasion I agreed. Using a digital camera I took a snap of my erect cock and sent it to him. I had found something that took my enjoyment of this to a whole new level. I confess I bombarded him with photographs of my hard on. From all sort of angles. Never anything that would identify myself. Just my cock and balls. 

In due course Rob told me he wanted to hear me cum. He repeatedly asked me to have phonesex with him. I refused. This was a step too far. Rob would wait until he knew I was close to cumming, after I had sent him photographs of my dripping cock and when I had told him I was getting close to shooting, and would then ask me to call him. "It would be so sexy," he would type. He would cajole and encourage. 

Eventually I was seduced by the idea of it. I set myself some rules. I would call him. I would withhold my number. Nothing could go wrong. 

Nothing did go wrong. He was right. We began by typing out our fantasies to each other in our usual instant messaging service. I sent him some pictures. Then he asked me to call him. This time I gave in and told him my rules. With my jeans and underwear pulled down we had phonesex that afternoon. As he whispered his dirty talk to me I had a powerful orgasm and listened as Rob moaned his way through his own climax. 

I was hooked. 

It is no exaggeration to say that we continued to regularly engage in this illicit correspondence. I played a little hard to get when it came to his suggestions of phonesex. I pretended to get coy and bashful. The truth was I lived for those sessions. The more we did this the more I knew how much I craved this exciting, taboo sexual contact. 

I made the next decision. I wanted it for real. I wanted him for real. Surprisingly he was more reluctant to actually meet. In the throes of our masturbatory chat I would talk about meeting up. I made it clear I really meant it. He would never make those final arrangements. 

Then one day he said he was going to be visiting some friends near to where I lived. He asked if I wanted to meet him in a car park, just to say hello. Despite this being what I wanted the thought of meeting did fill me with dread. Here I was, a married man in my late thirties who had only ever dabbled in having some sort of virtual sex with a man. I was able to overcome my conservative reluctance as we were meeting on a Sunday afternoon in a relatively public place. 

At the appointed time I arrived in the car park. He had told me the make of his car and that he would stand next to it. I could see he had parked in the most remote area, away from other cars. I pulled alongside him and he immediately got into my car.

"Hi," he said, "good to finally put a face to the cock..."

It made me smile. It was still a bit weird. I was used to sexual encounters with women who I found attractive. I did not find him attractive. And yet my cock was hard just by meeting him. 

We made small talk for ten minutes. Mainly discussing how strange it was to finally meet after sharing such intimate moments together. Out of the blue he told me that he was not disappointed at all by the reality. I was a man he could "fancy".

I did not have time to be flattered. As soon as he had said that he leant over and kissed me. I was not expecting that. I had never really wanted to kiss a man. His face felt rough against mine. He had a good, clean scent about him. And then his tongue entered my mouth and I found myself willingly snogging another man. 

He broke off the kiss and spoke.

"I need to see your cock," he said and simultaneously rubbed the bulge in my trousers. 

He undid my zip. My iron hard dick was exposed. It was still tucked inside my trousers but pressed against the opening. I heard him moan appreciatively and then he rubbed his finger against my exposed flesh. I watched him run his finger along my flesh in total rapture. The sight of a man touching my cock was thrilling, even if the touching was fleeting. 

He kissed me again. This time I reached over and felt his bulge. There was no mistaking his arousal. I did not unbutton his jeans but just caressed and squeezed his hard on through the material.

If this carried on then things were going to get too much for a car park in broad daylight. We both seemed to realise it and broke off the kiss. I was pressed right back in my seat, Rob's eyes did not leave my open fly.

Almost in a whisper said, "I want you to be my cocksucker."

He knew from our chats that being called his cocksucker turned me on. That was why I had spoken to him in the first place, because of my desire to suck cock. There was no prospect of me sucking him there and then. I was taking huge risks but that would have been too far. 

We arranged I would go to his place soon and with that he left me alone in the car. My flies still open. My mind whirling with lustful thoughts. 

*****

This is a true story. Let me know if you would like to hear what happened next.



In The Beginning



"You cheeky bugger! That was a bloody nerve! And clever, too - I'd no idea what you were up to!" Given this tacit go-ahead, I moved a hand down her back to the fastenings of her rather heavy dress. 

"Get off, you dirty sod!" she said, and smacked my arm away, but she was chuckling and clearly just playing the game. After a couple more similar mock attempts to stop me, she left off blocking me and started in on my shirt buttons herself. 

Within another minute or two, her dress was down round her waist, her (very substantial) bra was pulled up to give me free access to her tits, my shirt was also undone and we were having a bloody good mutual grope.

Well, I was in seventh heaven. I said I was young and inexperienced, and this was only about the third or fourth girl I'd found who was willing to let me get any further than a quick kiss and cuddle. And unlike previous girlfriends, Trish hadn't even seriously played "hard to get"; on the contrary, she seemed just as enthusiastic to get her hands on me as I was to grope her!

For some time we were happy just caressing each other above the waist, and smooching the odd kiss or nibble. But it didn't take long for the couch to start to seem a bit cramped. I had just started to make moves towards Trish's waistband, to gain access to the parts that I otherwise couldn't reach, when she cocked an eyebrow at me, and said, "Sod this! This bloody sofa's downright cramped, and it's cold here even with that fire on. It must be a good half-hour since Claire and George went through, and I haven't heard a dicky-bird from them. I reckon they must have gone on up to Claire's room. Go on, why don't you come up to mine?" 

Jackpot!!!

Well, was I going to turn down an offer like that - at the age of about twenty? Looked like I was definitely on for "the real thing"! I wasn't a virgin, but the only other girl who'd been willing to "go all the way" with me before had still been living with her parents, and we'd been limited to using the back seat of my car. This made the bumps and grinds quite interesting, I suppose, from a gymnastic point of view; but not really all that satisfying! An invitation into a rather sophisticated woman's own bedroom was just something else entirely, as far as I was concerned. 

By this time my shirt was off, and Trish's bra had also ended up on the floor. I picked them up as she switched the fire off, but since George and Claire had obviously gone up already I didn't bother to put my shirt back on. I handed Trish her bra, but she'd obviously come to the same conclusion - she took it, but just held it in one hand while she used the other to make sure her dress (which was hanging round her waist) didn't slip right off as she moved.

Whoops!! It all goes to show that you shouldn't jump to conclusions - when we opened the door into the back room (where the staircase was), we found ...

... George and Claire, still sat there, side by side, talking quietly to each other. They were even in separate chairs still - although the chairs were pushed fairly close together. George had got no further than to have a lipstick mark on his cheek, and a hand rather high up Claire's very long leg, beneath her skirt; and unlike us, they were both still fully dressed!

Trish (to my surprise) didn't seem at all embarrassed at being half-naked in front of George - she just chuckled. "Good Grief!" she said, "what on Earth are you two waiting for? We're going upstairs - see you later!" 

Grabbing me by the hand, she positively dragged me after her. I gave George a weak grin and a shrug, and followed her. 

As we climbed the stairs, Trish spoke again, quietly but with a rueful grin in her voice. "If I'd thought about it, I s'pose I might have guessed - Claire does take a bit of a time to let her hair down sometimes. Maybe it's 'coz she's got such a lot of it! Still, I bet we've jump-started them now. Come on!"

We carried on up the stairs. Their house was an old Victorian terrace that certainly didn't have central heating, and when we got into her bedroom it was absolutely bloody freezing! We didn't waste much time in tearing the rest of our clothes off, and getting into bed and under the covers. Ten minutes or so later, we heard George and Claire come up and sneak into the other bedroom, to our considerable amusement. Evidently they'd decided to follow our example, once we'd broken the ice for them (not entirely a figure of speech - it really was bloody cold in Trish's room)! 

And meanwhile, we got on with the most obvious sort of exercise for keeping warm when sharing a bed with a convivial partner. Or to put it another way, we fucked like rabbits! I was delighted when Trish told me loud and clear, right up front, that she was on the Pill so that I didn't need to wear a rubber. "I can't stand the bloody things!' she said - and I must admit I heartily agree with her. If there's one thing that I really miss from those days, it's the way that the easy availability of the Pill made us feel safe to screw with whoever we fancied. AIDS was unknown, and other nasties could be dealt with by a quick check-up at the quack's from time to time. Oh, well, such is life.

Anyway, some time in the middle of the night, George and I happened to meet on the landing between the girls' bedrooms, on our respective ways to and from the loo. We exchanged rather gormless smiles and agreed a bit sheepishly that the weather was much too bad to risk the drive home in our old banger - always assuming we could even get it to start in this weather. We'd be much safer staying for the night, wouldn't we?

I got back into bed with Trish, and we were soon at it again. Now, like I said, I'd only had a few previous girlfriends, and I'd only actually "had it off" with one of them. I knew women were supposed to have orgasms (although there was still some question about this in many people's minds, believe it or not!), but I never had been sure whether I'd given one to my previous bird - and if I had, she certainly hadn't given me much of a clue when it happened. Trish certainly made me sure this time, though - she went off like a sodding firecracker! The first time it happened, she had this poor innocent young man quite worried, what with all her writhing and moaning. 

When she calmed down and saw the concerned look on my face, she explained to me (quite patiently) that women do have climaxes too, and that she at least didn't see any reason to keep quiet about it. Obviously, even if I'd harboured any illusions, this wasn't the first time for her - in fact, I later discovered that I was at least her tenth bloke, and I never have actually asked exactly how many she'd had before me. 

In the fashion of the day amongst young people, she considered it a perfectly reasonable "quid pro quo" to have a shag with any reasonably attractive and pleasant bloke, so long as he took her out for a good meal or something two or three times and she felt the right vibes. 

I later found out that though she'd "been around" quite a bit, on that first night we spent together I was the first person (apart from herself, of course) who'd ever actually made her come. And I still didn't really know what I was doing all that well, so I've always felt rather pleased about that! 

Well, I'll cut a long story short. Over the next few weeks, with a few brief visits back to our own house for changes of clothing and the like, George and I lived at the girls' house whenever we weren't at work. And needless to say, we didn't sleep on that sofa!



In The Beginning



1988, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

THERE was another family fight going on in the Wong residence, the neighbors tittered. Suzie could feel their pitying glances as she opened the iron-gate to let herself in. Her mother was screaming at her father in Chinese.

Soon, shouts escalated into things being thrown, she could hear pots and pans clanging as they bounced off the cement floor. She sighed deeply, her parents fought almost every day now. There was nothing she could do but hide until they were done.

"You're a good for nothing drunk. You can't even feed one family and now you want me to look after your bastard son?" screamed her mother. "If that bitch puts one foot in this house, I'll kill her!"

"Fine, then I won't come home anymore!" her father shouted his reply. "At least she treats me nicely and with respect. She never shouts at me."

"That's because you take my money and give it to her. She doesn't have to slog for a living, barely making ends meet. You have children here to feed, too. I don't see you bring money home to them."

"They are big enough to work for their own living. I don't know why you bother sending those girls to school. They're stupid and useless and will probably get pregnant before they even finish school," her father shouted. "Let them go to work and bring home some money."

Suzie had heard these comments so often that it barely hurt anymore. She knew her father never loved her or her sisters. He never would. They were only girls, his mistress had given him a baby boy last year, that's why he barely came home anymore.

"Then go! And don't come back, I'm not paying for your mistress and her bastard anymore. Let her work!" her mother screamed. And with that, her father stormed out of the house, not even glancing at Suzie, not caring that she had heard those hateful remarks.

"Good riddance," he hissed and left.

Suzie ran to comfort her mother immediately, knowing that the woman was too proud to cry in front of her father and would only break down after he left. "It's okay, mom. He's not coming back anymore," she whispered. "I'll quit school and get a job, then you won't have to work so hard."

"That's not what I want. I wanted you to have a good future, so that you can take care of your sisters. They're going to need you, Suzie," she sobbed.

"But I can help them by getting a job, too. Then they'll have money for school and a career and a bright future," Suzie said in reply. "I don't even like school," she lied, her heart breaking because Suzie actually loved being in school surrounded by people her own age and books and learning new things.

"You're too young. What can you do? How much can you make? You'll only be bullied and taken advantage of… No it's safer for you to stay in school," her mother argued.

"I can work with Auntie Molly. You know how she is always saying her club is doing very good business and is always needing more people to work there. I could stay with her in the city and work there," Suzie said.

"When the girls are bigger and already working, I would have enough money to continue my studies," she assured her mother.

Mrs. Wong mulled over that idea, in fact she had forgotten about her elder sister Molly and her offer to put Suzie up in the city. Indeed, it sounded like a perfect plan. "I'll give Molly a call tonight and see what she says. If she can't take you in, then you stay in school – at least until you finish High School, okay," she said finally.

In truth, Suzie was praying that her Aunt wouldn't turn her down, she'd given anything to get away from the screaming matches and constant harping about money or the lack of. She also knew that her father would be back, on the last day of the month, because he needed money from her mother to feed his son.

She tried to take her mind off things as she prepared their only meal for the day. A meager serving of vegetables, which she planted herself in the back yard, and canned meat her mother had bought from the market.

*************

MR. ERIC, a tall, handsome Caucasian-mixed-Chinese man in his early thirties was briefing his staff when a mobile phone rang, jarring the quiet atmosphere. He glared at the phone's owner, Molly, but refrained from giving her a piece of his mind she when put up her hand.

It must be something important, he thought to himself, knowing that his assistant would debrief him later, he continued with his briefing.

Later, when the other staff had dispersed, he motioned for her to join him at the bar. "Who was that?" he asked.

"Do you remember, quite sometime ago, I told you about a beautiful young girl – just the right age to begin training? Well, she's actually my niece, her mother just called me to ask if I could get her a job here at the Club," Molly said.

"What did you tell her?" 

"I told her that I'd have to talk to you first and I'll call her later. So what do you think?" she asked as she ran her brightly painted finger nails up his jacket sleeve. "Can we train her?"

"You don't mind that your niece will be a whore? Service as many men as we tell her to?" Mr. Eric was being deliberately crude, knowing how much Molly liked that kind of talk. "She'll have to learn to take it up the ass, swallow cum, take two men at once, gang-bang, probably do animals…

Molly was getting aroused. She loved sex, the more sex she had the better she felt. She stood up from her seat on the bar stool and began to dance sinuously in front of Eric.

"I think she has great potential. I think we can make a lot of money out of her, plus, her family needs the money," Molly said. "Besides, it's not such a bad life, nice clothes, travel all over the world and best of all cocks of every shape and size all the time."

"Come here, bitch. Suck on me while I think about this. There are still risks, with her being so young," Eric said huskily, as he watched Molly kneel down and unzip his pants. He was already hard, but had a long way to go.

He closed his eyes as Molly slid him into her wet, hot mouth and clasped her lips tightly around his shaft. She did have one of the best mouths in the business, if her niece could learn to be even half as good as this, they'd be millionaires, he thought.

"When can I meet her?" he asked, grabbing a fistful of Molly's hair and pulling her off his cock when he didn't get a reply.

"Anytime. I can bring her here tomorrow afternoon," she said, his pre-cum glistening on her red lips, desire glinting her brown eyes, turning them to black. "Do you want me to finish?"

"No, I need to talk to some people. You can finish me later," he said deliberately taunting her, knowing that by the end of the evening, Molly would be climbing walls in her frenzy. "Get up, you have guests to see to. And clean yourself off. I can't have you looking like a two-dollar whore."

Molly got up hurriedly and left the room, Eric had a very unpredictable temper, and although many of the staff had never witnessed him losing it, she knew from first hand experience just how cruel he could get. Much as she wanted to help her family, there was nothing she could do until Eric told her his plans.

Eric would no doubt make her wait until the Club was closed tonight before letting her orgasm. She knew from experience that if she brought herself off before, he'd punish her severely. Molly shivered, sometimes, even the punishments Eric meted out made her hot.

But Molly was mistaken about Eric's plans because no sooner had she ventured upstairs that she got a call from Eric telling her to meet him in his office. Her heart pounding, she ran downstairs eager to receive whatever he dished out.

"Take off your clothes, bitch," was the command the moment she entered the room. Molly obeyed without hesitation, stripping down to her skin and leaving only her four-inch heels, knowing without being told that he'd want it that way.

"Lie on you tummy, stick your ass out," came further commands. You've been a bad girl and need to be spanked."

Before Molly could settle herself comfortably, the first stinging pains were already reddening her pale ass. She held her startled scream back.

The second one came down with doubled force, forcing a gasp out of her. Her ass was burning, but so was her pussy… love juices were trickling down the insides of her thighs.

"You liked being whipped don't you, bitch. That's why you always make the silly mistakes. You want me to spank you," Eric said huskily as he caressed her burning ass. He was naked from the waist down.

He plunged his engorged member into her pussy, pushing in all the way to the hilt. Molly groaned. No matter how many times they'd fucked, each time was like the first, Eric's swollen member forcing its way through her tight pussy.

"Damn, you're tight," he said as he began pumping in and out of her copping wet channel. "I've made up my mind. We'll take your sweet little virgin niece and send her to the Resort for training. Then, after she's been educated and instructed properly, we'll auction her off to the highest bidder."

Molly, already beginning to orgasm was incoherent and couldn't make out a single word he said. All she could do was concentrate on the hard cork, burning its way inside her.

"Did you hear what I said, bitch?" Eric said sharply, slapping her buttocks. "I said we're going to teach your niece to fuck and sell her to the highest bidder. What do you think of that?"

Molly could only groan, her orgasm shooting through her body, her pussy spasming and gripping Eric cock even tighter.

"I'm cumming, bitch, get down on your knees and suck me off," he said, pushing her off the desk and on her knees. "I want you to swallow every drop, you hear?"

Still in the throes of her orgasm, Molly got to her knees and reached for Eric's near-orgasmic, Hard as a rock cock and sucked him deep into her throat. Within moments, he was spurting sperm down her eager throat.

"You should teach you niece your tricks, Molly. Then she'll definitely make it as a whore," Eric said, laughing softly, cruelly. "With your kind of skill, it wouldn't matter if she were ugly, men would be lining up just for her mouth. Like they'll be when you're too old or ugly to be fucked."

I think I will teach Suzie a thing or two, Molly thought to herself. If for nothing else, at least she won't end up like me. Hopefully, the girl will be smart enough to make something of herself. 

"Get dressed and be ready in half an hour. We're going to see your sister and her wanna-be-whore of a daughter. If possible, I want everything tied up, neat and tidy and be ready to leave for the Ship by tomorrow morning."

"But why the rush?"

"There are some very interested parties who are already on the Ship for their annual meeting. If they like what they see, we'll have the go-ahead on her training," Eric replied. "Now hurry up or I'll go without you."



In The Beginning



The planet was dying; very near a final, cataclysmic death. It's sun had been flaring for centuries and the planet's surface had been far too hot for life for the same centuries. All life was underground, sustained artificially. Scientists were well aware that when the sun made it's final flare-up before collapsing, the planet would be obliterated and that the end was near. 

A fleet of small starships was created. Each was capable of carrying two people in a form of suspended animation similar to cryogenics with the added feature of a form of ravenous feeding. The ships traveled at very close to the speed of light. The plan was to send out the fleet in different directions with the hope that at least one would land on some planet somewhere in the universe that was capable of sustaining life. The launches weren't completely at random, certain galaxies had been identified as likely to include a habitable planet. But they weren't far from random. It was a wild shot at trying to make sure that the race would not die out but would be recreated elsewhere.

Each starship would continue to travel until sensors determined that a planet with something close to the correct atmosphere had been found. The ship would then automatically divert to that planet, find land and come down as controlled as possible. Each ship carried a boy and a girl, eight to ten years old when they were put aboard. Since time stops at the speed of light, the occupants of the ship would age extremely slowly even though the ship would travel literally thousands of light years.

Starship 1074 landed and its occupants were slowly awakened from their suspension. Both had aged slightly during travel and were now in the equivalent of their early twenties. And both were very hungry. Both were in acceptable physical shape but in fact their stomachs and digestive systems were totally empty.

The spaceship door was open and both walked out and slowly looked around. There were green plants everywhere, trees with fruit hanging from them, a small stream trickling nearby. The man grabbed a fruit off a tree and took a bite.

"It's odd tasting but seems edible," he said as he took another bite. 

So the woman picked one, too, and began eating. As they ate they walked a short distance, investigating their surroundings.

"This appears to be a very pleasant place," she said, "We should be able to survive here." She then noticed the stream, went over, stooped down, bent over and started drinking from it.

The man watched her and as she bent over he could see the bright pink of her labia just below the soft globes of her ass, tucked between her thighs.

They were both naked, as were all people from their planet. Privacy had long since disappeared in the tight living space beneath the planet's outer crust. So, while they had very limited life experience on their own, were essentially eight-year-olds in twenty- year-old bodies, they had seen many people including their own parents making love. It happened regularly and often, whenever a couple felt like it. They were also aware of the various methods and positions of sex and foreplay. It was traditional for the woman to make sure the man was erect and for the man to make sure the woman was lubricated and ready to accept him.

The sight of her labia caused an emotional stirring within the man, beyond his conscious control. He felt a stirring in his penis. He stepped over, knelt beside her and leaned down and drank from the stream also. The water was very needed. They both drank deeply. He then sat back on his haunches and reached with his hand to touch her labia. He rubbed his finger up and down, feeling her soften some. He leaned down and kissed her on her lower back.

Smiling, the woman sat up and turned to him, moving her head to his so they could kiss. While their lips met, she moved her hand to his penis, feeling it's growing solidity. As they continued to kiss, he leaned back until she was essentially atop him. They were still kissing, he still had his arm over her ass and his hand into her pussy. She still had hold of his cock. He could feel her soft body and the shape of her breasts against him.

She smiled, pulled her face away from the kiss and changed position. Straddling him, she got her mouth to his cock while she almost sat on his face. He used his hands to spread her labia, raised his head slightly and put his tongue into her and began licking. She had her lips around his cock with two-thirds of it inside her mouth as she licked and sucked. Neither had ever done this before but both realized that it was what they wanted to do.

She could feel his cock grow and become strong and solid in her mouth and loved the tastes and sensations of it. He could feel her pussy softening and becoming wetter and wetter and loved the tastes involved. Being young, neither had patience, both wanted everything at once. So she pulled loose from him and almost jumped around until her labia were directly above his penis. She then lowered herself onto him, smiling as she felt his erection spreading her lips open. A sharp pain hit her which caused a momentary panic but her actions had already committed her and her weight dropped onto him and his erection was completely up inside her.

The pain was replaced with pleasure and she smiled at him. lowered her upper body and kissed him as her hips kept moving, feeling his large shape move within her.

"This is going to be a lovely place, Adam," she said.

"Ugh," he blurted out as he shoved his hips up into her harder, "Just perfect, Eve," he said.

# # #



In the Beginning



Warm candle wax dripped slowly along Corrine's spine. She could feel each drop as Candice tilted the candle to anoint the softest, most sensitive places on her body. Lilting, celtic strains filled the room making the scene vibrate with unleashed sensuality. Unfortunately, just when the pleasure and pain had built to a feverish pitch..the phone rang, rousing Corrine from her sweet fantasy. Glancing at the caller id, she smiled. It was strange how Candice always seemed to know just when to call to break her from her perverted schemes and dreams.

"Yup, what do you want now, brat?" Corrine giggled into the phone as Candice responded with her usual wit and acid sarcasm. 

"Yes, I was fantasizing about you again, so what? Who else can I fantasize about? You should not tell me all about the life of a female domme if you are not willing to let me fantasize about it!!"

Twenty minutes later, Corrine hung up, a smile on her face which lit up her hazel eyes. Somehow she had convinced Candice to take her to a private club for those of the dom/sub persuasion. 

Candice had no idea about Corrine's sexual turn-ons. They were best friends, not lovers so therefore Candice did not pry into things she considered none of her business. However Corrine had decided that it was way past time for her best friend to become not only her lover but her owner as well. Once she convinced Candice of that, then things would be just fine or so she hoped.

The night was warm. Stars glittered brightly from the inky blackness of the sky. Corrine had dressed carefully for her first foray into the d/s scene, wearing a tiny blood red vinyl dress and thigh high black vinyl boots. Her waist length auburn hair was loose and curled becomingly around her face. She wore no make up, which only played up the innocence she was trying to project, thinking that it would make her friend feel a little more protective of her.

A black Cavalier pulled into her driveway. A short blast from the car horn brought her to the front door and out of it, a small black bag in her hand, a smile on her face.

An extremely well built black man opened the car door for her, his eyes downcast. When she had seated herself comfortably in the back seat, he shut the door and moved to the front of the car.

A quick drive to Candice's house to pick up her friend (and his mistress) and they were off.

The club was like nothing Corrine had ever experienced before, filled with scents, visions and sounds invented to turn on anyone entering the place. Men and women of every color and build were strapped, chained, and lovingly placed in torturous positions to please the wandering crowds. On various stages, slaves and "owners" put on little exhibitions to the hard driving rhythms that permeated the smoky air. All in all it was quite breath taking and overwhelming to Corrine, who felt a little lost.

Candice had, upon entering, placed a vinyl collar upon her boy's throat, attaching a small metal chain through the metal loop in the back. Glancing over at Corrine, Candice giggled lightly. 

"Well you wanted to come. Here you are. Go see what you can find to get into. There is only one rule here: you always have the right to say no. Someone puts you into a position or place you don't want to be? Just say no, Ok?" A flip of light blonde hair, a wink from a baby blue eye and Corrine was left alone to go exploring.

The night turned into one of many revelations. Corrine was teasingly tickled, caressed, paddled, roped, lightly whipped and lashed by both men and women. She was expertly ate out upon a stage surrounded by mistresses and masters who watched with avid eyes and small smiles. Long before the night ended she had numbers from both sexes and was more sexually and mentally fulfilled than ever before. 

It was nearing daybreak before Candice gathered Corrine up from the nest of bodies she found herself in and ushered her toward the front door and the waiting car. Kisses and slaps abounded. 

Candice dropped her sub off first- leaving him with a small kiss and a few gentle, and not so subtle, reminders of what he had to look forward to the next day. Finally though, Corrine arrived home and was escorted inside by her friend.

"I know what you think you wanted from this evening, love. I know that you would like for us to go beyond the boundaries I decided upon for us long ago. However, my sexuality does not allow for such things. I love you so I promise you I will help you find the kind of domme you need. For now, that is not me."

A light kiss on Corrine's forehead before Candice turned to leave. And then she stopped. Facing her friend once more, Candice smiled. 

"But then again, One never knows just what will happen in the future, huh? So I give you this much

if by some chance I ever decide to go that route, well then I will know one perfectly luscious sub just waiting on me to take care of her."

With those final words and one last smile, Candice left. Corrine smiled to herself as she headed to the bathroom and then bed. It was a guaranteed thing. She now had plenty of new fatasies to enact and more than enough "friends" willing to help her with each and every one of them. Of course, old friends are the best as she reminded herself. 

"And hell, she can not hold out forever!!"

       TO BE CONTINUED.....



In The Beginning



Sweat rolled off of Hank McCoy's brow as he made his way into the locker room area after a particularly difficult training session in the Danger Room. The Professor had pushed the kids hard, harder than he'd ever done before. They were coming into their powers, for sure, but why did he have to make everything so tough?   "Hey, Hank," Bobby Drake hailed as he sat down next to his teammate. Wiping away sweat, the youngest mutant at Xavier's Academy sighed. "That was a tough one, huh?” "Sure was," Beast replied, eyeing Warren Worthington III as he wandered into the locker room, folding his wings behind his back. Warren quickly stripped down and stepped into one of the over-sized showers, wanting to get back to his room and take a quick catnap. "I was kind of surprised at the difficulty level. I didn't think we were ready for that.” 

“We'll have to be ready for a lot of things from here on out.” Hank and Bobby turned in unison to see the skinny, quiet Scott Summers leaning against a locker. Scott took a few steps and joined his comrades on the bench. "The professor wants to take us out into the field soon. Something about an evil mutant, I think.” The Beast could barely contain his surprise. "Already? We've only been here a few months. And how do you know what the professor wants us to do, hmm?” Bobby leaned forward, waiting for Scott's reply. "I heard him recording last night in his study," Cyclops said, getting to his feet. He looked somewhat nervous. "I mean, I wasn't eavesdropping or anything, I just...” 

A soft knock at the door interrupted Scott's reply, even as Angel stepped out of the shower. In a few seconds, he had toweled himself off and redressed. Cyclops opened the locker room door to see Jean Grey standing there, a shy smile on her lips. "Is it my turn yet?" she asked quietly, sneaking a peek past Scott. "I really need to take a shower...the professor really stuck it to us today!” Bobby and Hank quickly stood, while Warren stepped up behind them. They pushed past Scott, giving small gestures of hello to Jean as they passed out into the hallway. Scott stood, mute for a moment, before following his teammates. Jean closed the door, leaving the four boys standing in the hallway. 

"I still can't get over how beautiful she is," Warren commented, drawing approving nods from Bobby and Hank. Scott simply stood there, staring at the closed door, before heading off down the hallway. The other three watched after him. "What's wrong with him?” "Don't know," Hank replied, turning his attention back to the door. A sideways glance at Bobby revealed a smirk on the young man's face. Hank confronted his teammate. "What's with the smile, Drake?” Bobby's smile grew wider. In the hallway, he could hear the shower running in the locker room. "Nothing, just a...mischievous thought.” "Uh-oh," sighed Hank, wondering what Bobby was up to now. "Bobby, what are you up to now? I really hope you don't do anything that will get us in trouble with the professor.” “Don't worry," Bobby replied, creeping toward the door. Slowly, he opened it up and crept back into the locker room, followed by Hank and Warren. Bobby made a shushing motion. "I've been meaning to try this out," Bobby whispered, closing his eyes in concentration. After a few seconds, he got the reaction that he was hoping for. 

In the shower, Jean yelped loudly, stepping away from the now icy-cold water. Every effort she made to return the water to at least a lukewarm state failed. Frustrated, Jean reached up for her towel. Then she realized that she left her towel on the bench. Stepping nimbly around the freezing water, Jean slid the shower curtain back and stepped out, coming face to face with three wide-eyed young men. Bobby's mouth went slack as he surveyed Jean's body, from her fiery red hair down to her perky-nippled breasts, and from there to her flat stomach, continuing down to her small tuft of dark pubic hair. The other two reacted in much the same way. "Wh-wh-?” Jean blurted, trying to cover herself up. A quick glance, and Jean realized that her dark blue towel was behind her three teammates. Sheepishly, Jean stepped back behind the curtain, braving the cold water, and covered herself up with the flimsy plastic. "Bobby Drake, I ought to--!” "Jean, I'm sorry!" cried Bobby, finally finding his voice. 

Jean's body was pressed against the wet plastic shower curtain. The soft pink of her nipples showed through, allowing the boys a look even as she tried to cover herself up. "I didn't...I mean...it was just a joke!” Jean sighed. "Just hand me my towel, and get out of here!” Shaking his head as if coming out of a daze, Angel reached down and snagged the towel from its seat on the bench. Shuffling slowly, he approached Jean as she hid behind the curtain. His hands trembling, Warren tried to hand the towel over, but proceeded to drop it on the floor. "I'll get it," he said quietly, trying (but not too hard) to rip his eyes away from Jean. Warren took a step forward and picked up the towel, but wasn't on his feet for long. Slipping in a puddle of water, Angel fell head-on into Jean. The two slammed against the wall of the shower, with Warren on top of the redhead. Under the cold shower, the towel got soaking wet. 

"Jean, are you okay?!?”  Jean nodded slowly. She could feel the pressure of Warren's raging hard-on pressing into her stomach. She could feel it throbbing against her, pulsing as if it had its own life. Angel steadied himself in order to get to his feet, but Jean grabbed his arms and pulled him close. Without warning, Jean planted a wet kiss on Warren. 

Standing a few feet away, Bobby and Hank stared, their eyes wide, their mouths gaping open. Totally engaged, they watched as Jean, her naked body glistening, snaked her hands into Warren's pants, feeling for his hardness. Bobby felt the crotch of his pants strain, and a subtle look over at Hank revealed the same thing happening to him.  "Jean--!” Warren exclaimed, inhaling a breath of air in-between kisses. With amazing deftness, Jean undid Warren's pants and pushed them down, revealing his hard cock. The shower water had soaked him to the bone, but did nothing to diminish his desire. "What are you--" Jean cut him off with another kiss, even as she began rubbing Warren's penis in-between her fingers. She stroked it lovingly, occasionally stopping to tickle the sensitive scrotum. Angel gasped as her fingers worked. 

Suddenly, Jean thrust herself forward, impaling her slick body on Angel's hard cock. She cried out, not able to help herself as she drove his member deeper into her canal. Warren laid there for a moment, unsure of what to do next. He knew what to do next, to be certain, but this was all very sudden, and very unlike Jean. Her warmth surrounded him, though, and he began to feel a slight dizziness in his head.  "Warren," Jean whispered, the small puff of hot air sliding into Angel's ear. With that, Warren could no longer control himself, and began sliding in and out of Jean, beginning slowly, but moving faster after a little while. His tender bumps turned to a hard pounding, rocking Jean against the floor every time he pushed in. "Oh, god...” Hank, stunned, watched as Warren slammed into Jean, their bodies writhing together under the stream of now-warm water. His dick jumped as Jean cried out, unable to quiet herself, rocking back and forth with Angel.  "Holy cow," Bobby muttered, staring at the display. "Holy cow.”  Suddenly, Warren cried out, his body mashing into Jean's as he climaxed, spewing hot liquid inside his teammate. A few more thrusts and he rolled off of her, his penis rapidly going limp. Before Jean could get to a sitting position, Hank was on top of her, his pants discarded on the floor behind him. He waved his penis in front of Jean's face, rubbed it against her chest, and tickled her nipples with the head. 

"Wow," Jean marveled, gazing at Hank's thick member. "No wonder they code-named you Beast.” She smiled a small smile, which instantly illuminated her face. Her cheeks were reddening with the glow that is usually associated with sex. Reaching out, Jean pulled Hank toward her soft pink lips, flicking her tongue lightly over the head of his penis. "I wonder how you taste," Jean whispered, clamping her lips over Hank's shaft. The effect was instantaneous as Hank leaned back, a soft moan escaping his lips, as Jean bobbed up and down. She made soft slurping noises, uncontrollable, tasting the salty flavor of his skin. 

"Jean...” Hank whispered, winding his thick fingers into her bright red hair. He pushed her against his cock, making her take more and more of it into her mouth. "Jean...” Her eyes widening, Jean almost gagged as she deep-throated Hank's member, a momentary flicker of panic ebbing away. The head tickled Jean's tonsils for a few seconds, before she slid away from him. Kissing the tip of his penis, Jean returned to sucking nimbly. Fingers began probing in between Jean's legs, startling her momentarily. She didn't know who it was, since she couldn't see around Hank's bulk, but figured it to be Bobby. He was the only one who hadn't joined the party yet. 

Bobby stroked his thumb over Jean's swollen clitoris, sliding a finger into her warm hole. Another finger joined its brethren, then another, until Bobby had three fingers inside Jean. She gasped from around Hank's cock, feeling the fingers continually hit her g-spot. Just as quickly as they had come, Bobby's fingers retreated from Jean's pussy. 

Jean whimpered at the loss of the sensation, before Bobby plunged his own throbbing penis into Jean. Squeezing her eyes shut, Jean orgasmed at the sudden hardness in her vagina. Hank trembled as he sat on top of Jean, signaling that he, too, was about to climax. Hot juice slammed into Jean's mouth, making her gag. Fighting the reaction, she dutifully swallowed it all down, enjoying the hot, salty taste as it ran down her throat. 

The door to the locker room opened, revealing a very stunned Scott Summers. "Slim", as his teammates called him, stood there, staring in mute astonishment at his naked friends. Jean gave him a half-hearted smile, a thin ribbon of the Beast's cum dribbling down her chin. "Wh-What???” Cyclops stammered, his eyes widening behind the ruby quartz glasses he was forced to wear. The thought entered his mind to contact the Professor, let him know what his students were doing, but the sudden erection in his pants stopped that thought dead. 

Struggling with the uncomfortable erection, Scott spoke. "What are you DOING???" he exclaimed, shocked, stunned, and incredibly turned on. "Hi Scott," Jean said as the Beast rolled off of her. Bobby quickly got to his feet and rushed off into the far corner of the room, wrapping a towel around himself. Warren simply sat on the floor, the cool water of the shower rushing over his overheated body. 

"We were, uh...” Jean began, searching for some sort of explanation. 

"Shit.” Warren stood up, smirking. He crossed the room and threw an arm around Scott, leading the dumbfounded mutant to where Jean lay, the cool shower water running over her erect nipples. "You are looking at the finest female specimen on the face of the earth, my friend," Warren began, pointing at Jean. "Take a good look.” Still somewhat stunned, Scott looked Jean over from head to toe. He stopped to marvel at her full breasts, capped by small pink nipples. Her firm stomach, the small tangle of dark pubic hair, her long, creamy legs. Scott could feel his full manhood pressing against the zipper of his pants, straining to be released. 

"So what are you going to do, Slim?” Warren inquired, taking a step back. With a thought, his long white wings folded around his body, masking his nakedness. "There she is, Scott. What are you going to do?” 

Without a second thought, Cyclops tore off his clothing and joined Jean on the floor of the shower. He could feel the water rushing over his body, but he didn't seem to mind. All that he was thinking of was Jean. "Scott," Jean muttered as Cyclops took one of her nipples into his mouth. He started slowly, but as the minutes passed he sucked on it greedily. Jean tensed up, her mind reeling at the feeling of his tongue flicking over her sensitive nipples. "Oh, Scott.” 

Just as suddenly, Scott plunged himself into Jean's womanhood, his long, thin penis sliding easily into the young redhead. Jean cried out, enjoying the feeling of his cock pushing into her. He pumped slowly at first, then faster and faster. The feeling was intense for both parties. "Jean...” Scott breathed, nibbling on the lobe of Jean's ear. Jean gasped aloud, her entire body shivering. "Scott, I want you to cum inside me," the redhead moaned, running her hands over Scott's well-muscled back. "I want you to cum...” 

"Jean, I..." moaned Cyclops, pulsating as Jean's tight pussy wrapped itself snugly around his penis. The pressure inside him was building. He could feel Jean's fingers digging into his back, making thin red marks with her fingernails. Her body began to tense as his thrusting increased in speed. 

"I'm...I'm...” Scott cried out, his penis spasming and jerking as he came to a thundering climax. Her red hair soaked, water running all over her milky skin, Jean roared in ecstasy as Scott came inside her. A few seconds was all it took for Jean to burst with orgasm. The pair stretched out on the floor of the shower, arms wrapped around each other. Scott slowly slid his limp penis out of Jean, taking time to plant a few warm kisses on her sweet red lips. Quickly dressing, Cyclops crossed to the locker room's door. Pausing, he looked back at Jean, who was staring intently at him. Smiling, Scott left the locker room. 

"So what do you say, Jean?” Hank said, his large cock held in one hand. "Time for another round?” 

"No," Jean said, getting off of the floor. She failed to see the disappointed look on her teammate's face. "No, I don't think so.” Deftly, Jean slid her clothes back on, not bothering to dry her dripping wet body. In the blink of an eye she was gone from the room, leaving the other three X-Men dumbfounded. Warren sighed. "Maybe some other time." 

Professor Xavier sat in his study, a blazing fire stoked up in the fireplace. The warmth from the fire coated his body, even as the white snow fell outside. Warren Worthington III said in Xavier's mind. The tutor of the X-Men turned his thoughts away from the three young mutants in the locker room and turned inwards, replaying the events that he had just 'heard' in his mind. He could envision Jean Grey's body, soaking wet, and her nipples hard and erect. He could see the small tuft of dark pubic hair covering her soft mound. He could hear her cries as she orgasmed, again and again, lost in the throes of ecstasy. Suddenly, Professor Xavier thrust his hand under the blanket that covered his lap and unzipped his pants. Awaiting his soft touch was a hardness he hadn't felt in a long while. "I may not have the use of my legs," Xavier muttered to himself, wrapping his hand around his erection, "But other things work just fine. I hope to show you sometime, Jean..." 



In the Beginning



In the Beginning

Alberto looked at the light; its dim incandescence did little more than attract an assortment of flying insects and cast shadows over everything else. His shovel passed from darkness to light and back again as he slowly, ever so slowly went about his task.

"When did it begin?"

He mused that question over and over. In the proper context it became a very significant question and he wondered when it all began. From some points of view, it began just over six thousand years ago. To be more precise, based upon some ancient biblical scholarly theory, everything began on October 23rd, 4004 BC.

Alberto giggled a bit at the thought of the blessed mathematical permutations the scholars gyrated through to arrive at that date. The cataloging of each biblical generation in infinite detail, the lists and charts, the facts and figures, all must have been staggering.

He looked around. Through the many shadows, dozens of shovels deliberately turned the soil. The night's silence accented the scrape and thonk of the shovels and the repeated, rhythmic schuss of the earth being tossed aside. Time was important, but this was not work for the bright heat of the day, it only took place in the cool ink of night.

"When did it begin?”

Yes, the question still echoed down hallways, it rang with each phone call; it wound its way under locked doors, closed windows and sealed vaults. The tides of mankind flowed on such a question; histories were recalled, edited and recycled. Governments rose and toppled and rose again as the question echoed through time.

Alberto began shoveling about an hour after sunset. The heat of the day had been filtered by the nearby grove of trees, so he was not hot. With such slow and deliberate work, he barely broke a sweat in the hours of work. Now waist deep, even in the faint light, he could see the strata at the wall of his excavation. He wondered what he might find at the bottom. What ages he would uncover on his way?

"When did it begin?"

He recalled his years at the university, the classes, his professors and his friends. He learned that questions were often more important than answers. He learned he had a propensity for questions. As he matured, the questions remained, multiplied in fact. They echoed for him, captured him and held him tight in their grasp. When became where, became why and finally… who.

He could now distinguish one strata from the next by the smell. It was faint in the upper layers, almost unnaturally so. But now, in the deeper layers, he was permeated by the earthy smell. After each shovel full, he took a breath and carefully looked around. He noticed several of the workers milling above their excavations. He tossed another shovel full into the pile above the hole.

"When did it begin?"

Alberto's first years in the field were an intense mixture of excitement and awe. The precision of the digs was exacting and this precision inspired him. He was chronicling history every day he worked. The last few years were different however, the digs lacked the precision he experienced in earlier years. He remembered the "stacks," where some of the bones and artifacts were removed and destroyed, while others were recorded. Often the special police supervised the digs.

He noticed the soil change as his shovel passed into another layer.  He carefully lifted the excess soil out of his excavation then climbed out of the hole. He nodded to another worker who had finished before him.

"When did it begin?"

He proudly thought of his promotions, from a digger to foreman, then to log manager and finally assistant field supervisor. He took great pride in the accomplishments of the team. He wrote extensive and exacting reports of their discoveries, theories and opinions. Often his reports ran several hundred pages in length.

Leaning on the shovel, he flexed his legs a bit and rubbed his sore back. In the distance he could see the faintest hint of light on the horizon.

"When did it begin?"

He stiffened and asked, "What?"

"When did it begin?"

Alberto knew the time had come. He answered with only, "When will it end, General?"

He felt the cold steel of the barrel against his head. He took some pride knowing he would be the first in his group. Strangely he wondered if he would hear the gunshot before it all….   

"When did it begin?"

The man who had dug next to Alberto stiffened at the words. 



In the Beginning



The Bavarian Hunter, a gast haus owned by friends, is as easily familiar to all of us as our own homes. Veronica glances around at the nine of them, sitting on the huge open deck next to a blazing fire. Surrounded by the glow of good friends, good wine and wonderful conversation, she basks in contentment, sprawled lazily, belly down, on a long wooden bench, happy that all is well with the world.

It is sheer irony that her world is poised on a cusp, completely unknown to her.

She turns her face away from the heat of the fire, glancing out at the horses. Indigo’s white blaze glows eerily from the middle of the grassy field, the rest of his black body disappearing into the shadows, liquid eyes reflecting golden in the shimmering firelight. Watching him approach as if sensing her thoughts he ducks his big head low to the bars, back and forth, a low, quiet rumble, one of greeting that issues quietly through the crisp night air.

Startled, she realizes she’s had far more wine than is normally her habit, her senses taking several moments to focus on the dark form sitting on the bottom rail of the fence. She can see the ghostly pale of a palm, reaching out to stroke the sleek black nose lightly, and in a momentary flare of the fire she can see the other hand wrapped around something round. Something sweet and edible to judge from Indy’s greedy acceptance and soft, grumbled whicker.

He blends with the shadows nearly as well as the horse, his black jeans and dark blue shirt making him almost invisible, the only thing giving him away is the white band of beads around the tops of his moccasins. Veronica admits she’s been admiring the moccasins all evening; long, knee high and obviously hand beaded with traditional Sioux patterns in greens, blues and blacks. 

They’d gone to college together, just like everyone here tonight, but had always shared ties that brought them closer, intimately closer and, sadly, had separated them from each other in the end. One was an interest in Native American traditions and culture, the other a heartfelt compassion for the plight of the North American timber wolf. 

They’d wound up pursuing their interests in different directions, Stosh heading out to the Nez Perce country (Idaho) to rejuvenate the dying wolf population on tribal lands. She’d chosen to pursue the Universities study program in the Boundary Waters, studying breeding habits, habitat and population of the magnificent beast in northern Minnesota. 

*****

She’d been late, as usual; or more accurately, later than usual, riding in an hour after the party started, but still in plenty of time for cocktails. She’d freed Indigo from his gear and into the paddock, piling everything on the hitching post and leaned up against the fence for a moment, enjoying Indigo’s playful abandon with LeeAnne’s mare Beauty, when muscular arms slipped around her waist squeezing lightly, strong hands pinning her smaller hands to the fence on each side of their bodies. She’d cried out, softly, startled, Indigo’s head turning in their direction, ears going flat to his head as he barreled past Beauty in her direction. She’d felt warm lips nuzzle the tender skin of her neck and arched backwards, turning her head toward the figure behind her.

“Stand still.” The quiet decisive command issued between them in tones as familiar as her own and her body recognized them too. She also registered intriguing differences in bulk and mass, relaxing into his grip as Indigo pulled to an outraged halt in front of them. With both hands pinned to the rail her resources were limited to a soft, soothing voice and the gentle blow of her breath against flaring equine nostrils, her eyes staring intently into the distrustfully rolling black eyes in front of her.

“What a beautiful animal,” she was amused to hear his tone, but not surprised. Indy was a stud with a rare blend of temperament and striking good looks, just like the man behind her.

“Well, thank you Sir,” Veronica’s playful voice teased with a faux southern drawl, turning his statement into a double entendre as she twisted in his grip toward him, her back against the rough wood of the corral. There was, for just a moment, a gleam she didn’t understand deep in his eyes, and then it disappeared.

“You never could follow directions and I was talking about the horse behind you,” his voice, amused and confident, was deeper than she remembered, and held an inflection she didn’t quite know how to take. His grip opened to accommodate her new position before tightening around her wrists briefly before he dropped them altogether. A small part of her shivered and regretted the loss of his touch.

Indigo’s heavy breathing blew her long blonde hair into disarray while he settled his jaw lightly against her head, turning those huge malevolent eyes on Stosh with open hostility. “Compliments will get you nowhere with this beast,” she laughed, turning to the right and kissing Indy’s velvet muzzle. “I think he’s jealous.”

“He’s yours?” His eyes never left the horse’s, his stare just as intent as Indigo’s while he raised a hand slowly toward his nose. Her own rose with his in concern before his stiffened posture made her retract it. Surprisingly, Indy allowed his touch, once, before he shook him off and headed back toward Beauty.

“Well, I guess I’m kind of his, really.” Another chuckle and she watched in fascination as Stosh’s eyes turned to hers, intently, searching, before his mouth turned up at the corners, laughter lighting those deep black eyes; his smile, the white teeth gleaming against copper skin, perfect and stunning. 

“You were always so independent, I can’t believe I’m hearing that from you.” Somehow, the amusement in those eyes contained the hint of something…a shadow unknown and unrecognized and it brought a thrill of excitement coursing through her senses.

“Well, he’s bigger than I am.” She shrugged, brushing away the twinge of unease, unsettled.

“Is that what it takes?” Now, definitely, there was meaning between the lines as his eyes searched hers deeply for a moment, finally pulling back and away with a sigh. “Come on, you’re late as usual,” his tone was neutral, one hand grabbed hers pulling her toward the deck, two strides to his one. Rounding the upper landing, his body swung into hers, lithesome and graceful like a predator, his face descending in a brief, hungry kiss. “I’ve missed you, Kashna.” The old endearment brings a lump to her throat - Lakhota for beloved – and then the group welcomed them.

*****

Gazing quietly up into the night sky from her sprawl she reflects sadly how little they’d said to each other since then. Reaching for her wineglass she picks it up foolishly by the rim, staring into space, and of course it breaks, a shard cutting deeply into the soft flesh of her thumb. Jerking her hand away with a startled gasp of dismay, she drops the remaining pieces. As they fall, Stosh’s tall, masculine form appears like a ghost at her side, one powerful hand grabbing her wrist. Her senses flood with confusion, realizing he’d climbed the decking in front of her to appear so suddenly…and that he’d been watching her from the shadow.

“Let me see.” His voice is tight with concern as he kneels beside her, strong fingers stroking her wrist soothingly as he uncurls her fingers from their protective wrap around the damaged digit. 

Veronica looks at him, surprise and a shy happy glow lighting her features. God she misses his touch. His fingers are delicate, opening her clenched hand gently, eyes focusing on the half inch slice across the tip of her thumb, a splinter of glass shining from within the cut. She eyes the shard with concern, pulling back against his grip and he tightens his fingers, staying her hand. “Hold still girl. It’s not deep, but there’s glass inside it yet. Stay put.”

Rising in an easy, fluid movement he disappears inside returning quickly with a band-aid and a bottle of peroxide. “Trust me?” His voice holds that amused note again, but his eyes are intent.

“As always…do your worst.” She closes her eyes thinking he has always known what to say and how, to get the reaction he’s looking for...she just wishes she knew what it was he was looking for, in her, tonight.

The whole process was quick, almost painless, the peroxide cold and soothing, his fingers wrapping the band-aid around it before she even opens her eyes.

Rolling on her side on the bench, his face now only inches from hers she watches his smile as he hears her breath audibly catch while he lowers his face to hers. She parts her lips slowly, hoping to prolong the kiss, his teeth lightly biting her full bottom lip before his tongue brushes hers. Stosh’s hands on her shoulders are hot, easing her onto her back as the kiss deepens, soft moans spilling from her mouth to his. His fingers, warm and rough with calluses, grip the curves of her shoulders before traveling over the soft skin of her throat, circling it with both hands, then dropping firmly to each breast, squeezing lightly. She trembles beneath an onslaught of old feelings and new ones, her mouth eager on his, his lips sending shudders of aching need shimmering through her belly.

“Hah! I told you so!” LeeAnne’s voice, clear and amused, echoes across the deck from the other side of the fireplace.

“What took you so long, you old coyote?” The voice of the young man who arrived later, one of Stosh’s friends, drifts up softly, a little closer to them.

Breaking the kiss, his eyes mirror her desire and reflect his reluctance to do so above a wry smile of chagrin. Stosh’s warm hand grabs hers, pulling her up to a sitting position, squeezing her uninjured hand, a promise of more to come, his other hand splayed across her lower belly as if sensing the heat pooling there. His thumb, lost in the dark shadows of the night, presses lightly against the apex of her thighs, finding with old, familiar skill, the sensual button at the crown of her sex and turning it on in one small stroke. Her eyes widen, pinned to his, the soft twinge of pain from her bandaged thumb radiating upwards, mingling with a pleasure so sudden and so intense that her eyes widen in helpless response, kiss swollen lips parting in a low moan. He watches intently as each emotion plays over her face, the chemistry apparent to all, and again, something unspoken but vibrant with promise, a gleam that beckons from his narrowed eyes.

“Alright, you two….get a room!” Rick’s baritone boomed from beside his wife.

“Maybe you’re the one that needs to get a room, and perhaps I won’t let you out until you look at me like that!” LeeAnne’s sweet laughter teases Rick, easing the tension on deck.

A rueful grin wreaths Stosh’s face as his eyes drop to his rampant condition, pulling her own glance in the same direction, her lips curving gently into a teasing smile, feeling the wetness that dampens her own jeans. He lifts her up in a smooth movement, setting her on his lap to hide the evidence, fueling their frustration only further before lifting her to her feet before him. “Let’s move closer to the fire…You first, “ his whisper flows into the chaos of tangles that is her hair, strong fingers firm at the belt loops at her waist, following closely behind.

“Is it time to sing?” her voice, husky with desire, asks above Seuss’s burst of laughter at our predicament. Brandon’s groan and the sounds of a gentle slap from his wife and the buckles of a guitar case opening follow. Veronica grabs a horse blanket from the railing, noticing for the first time that the temperature has fallen and they settle into an empty spot around the fireplace.

The wine flows freely and favorite songs come back to life, with them old stories reappear, exaggerated with yet another telling, warm laughter spilling over everyone. They’d settled, sitting on the deck, Stosh’s long legs on either side of her own, his arms circling her waist, his seductive baritone and warm breath teasing the delicate flesh on the nape of her neck, the blanket covering them both as she wiggled her way closer to the enticing bulge pressed firmly against her round bottom.

“Witch,” the soft hiss and not so gentle nip of his teeth at her neck makes her ache.

She raises her knees, one hand disappearing beneath the blanket, settling over one strong hand, guiding his fingers as he unbuttons her jeans before she places his palm on her bared belly.

His fingertips caress her lightly once, and stop. She glances back at him, his eyes glowing, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Ask me” he mouths soundlessly.

She runs her other hand between their bodies, taunting the masculine thrust behind her, an impish grin lighting her eyes as she mouths back “why?”. With a frown marring his brow, he grabs her hand, leading it back toward the other guiding her hand down her own belly.

“Touch yourself,” he whispers, his hand like steel on top of hers. 

Hesitant and slightly cowed by the tone of voice and the pressure of his fingers she slid her palm lower, the hard grip of his fingers over hers guiding her impatiently. With three strong masculine fingers holding her own together she is helpless to do much more than slide them lightly over her clit, the moisture beading them bringing a soft blush to her cheeks and a gleam of satisfaction to his eyes.

Slowly, with daunting pressure, he pushes her fingers lower until they slide over the slick wet folds of her labia. She shivers beneath his touch, her sex aching, her clit swollen and begging. She whimpers, softly, so softly, her eyes finding his, pleading and watching his silent words “ask me”. 

Shaking her head, she drops her eyes, blushing and his lips descend to her ear, his legs widening their stance, her own widening with them. With a slow, rhythmic pressure his palm compels hers, its surface riding over the hungry swell of her clit, taunting the fire in her belly to fierce arousal but satisfying little.

“More?” the tension in his voice isn’t lost to her or the press of his rampant masculinity thrusting at her from behind and she nods, wordless, pleading with him.

Suddenly his fingers, long, strong and thick, press between hers, his palm pressing cruelly against hers. The slide of those digits against the wet folds of her labia, slipping further, pressing more intimately to rest tauntingly against the entrance to her sex as he strokes that sweet, wet opening is nearly too much.

She gasps, but his own inhalation as his fingers slide through her heat and he recognizes the level of her arousal is gratifying to an unbelievable degree, making her grin.

“Still want me to ask?” very very quietly she whispers the words, yelping softly at their effect.

“Before we are finished, you will plead, Veri.” His teeth nip her ear roughly, the clench of his jaw apparent as it rests against her temple. Her eyes meet his and she feels her breath stop, lost in a pool of hunger and some elemental force she is unable to interpret.

A blush stains her cheeks, his words, forceful and determined, stroke a part of her that had lain dormant deep inside. “Let’s go home,” she whispers urgently, her mind and body a blazing flame of arousal.

“We need to talk, Veronica….we are not the same people we were four years ago…” His hands zip and button her jeans as he speaks.

“You’re not married, are you?” A groan, half frustration and half crushing disappointment, escapes her.

“I’m not married. Come, we’ll go talk. You can take me for a ride on that beautiful animal of yours.” He raises his eyes to the group, smiling his stunning smile and standing sensuously, pulling her up in front of him. Their goodnights are met with winks, happy smiles and ribald jokes that have her blushing, the firm thrust of him at her backside doing nothing to lessen the heat within.

They saddle Indigo in silence, Stosh swinging her up, following in a ripple of lithe muscle to sit behind her.

“Nice gear, “ his long fingers caressing the stiff leather of the reins, “I don’t remember you preferring the western style.” He holds the seven-foot leads easily in one big hand, resting it on her right thigh, his other hand tucked between her legs, the horse’s rhythm rocking it against her clit, his teeth nibbling an earlobe.

“Mmmmmm, that’s nice.” she whispers, distracted by the cool evening air chilling the damp fabric beneath his fingers, the hot and cold a definite contrast.

“I meant what I said earlier….I will have you, begging and pleading…or not at all.” His growl next to her ear makes her melt a little more.

“Tell me how things are different?”

“I live a D/s lifestyle now, Veri…”

“You mean, like, whips and chains and things?” She turns her limpid eyes to him, wide in disbelief, staring in bewilderment.

“Like…pleasure and pain, yes.” As he says the word pleasure, his thumb strokes her clit through the damp fabric of her jeans, hard, making her gasp and as he says pain, his other hand, reins and all, gently squeezes her sore thumb, harder.

The surge of pain from his grip flooded her senses, his other hand continuing to stroke her clit, the two sensations merging in a pool of hunger deep in her belly. His quiet yes in her ear rang of satisfaction.

“I’ve always been a very dominant personality, you can’t argue that, Veri…this is just an extension of who I am. And the whips and chains, they’re just tools, Veronica…it’s so much more, a discipline, if you will, that encompasses the mental and the spiritual as well as the physical”

The bewilderment in her voice didn’t hide her interest nor the gasp as his fingers brought about that surge of pain/pleasure combination that steals her breath away.

“Why are you telling me this?” It’s all she can think to even ask.

“I’ve missed you Kashna. You’ve rarely been far from my mind in the last four years, but you have always been such an independent….tonight I’ve seen a side of you that’s… not so much. I’ve watched your reactions to my commands, your willingness to give in, the curiosity deep in your eyes at what you sense but don’t quite understand…. I’d like to train you, little one…to show you levels of pleasure and passion beyond even your wildest dreams.” His hands stroke her, his breath sending shivers through her.

“I’ve just moved into a house not very far from where I’ve been told yours is…I have another slave, back in Idaho, she is Sioux and her name is Kiana.” He hugs her close as he tells her this.

She ponders the words for a minute, analyzing the hug. “That doesn’t bother me, Stosh…you know as well as I do how much I enjoy other women. I’m naturally curious... Did she do the bead work on those boots?” She nuzzles his jaw line as they ride slowly through the night.

“Yes, she did. And yes, I do.” His laughter underscores his words until she sits upright with a sudden gesture.

“House? Here? You live here now?” In her excitement she barely realizes she is repeating his words.

“I do Veri and I’d like to take you in it.” Catching the double entendre, her smile reaches from ear to ear.

They ride in quiet contentment for a good thirty minutes, her mind playing over their discussion, his words creating an ache, a curiosity to know more, stroking the hedonist inside her. Her smile is playful as Stosh leads Indigo off the path and they come around the front of a log cabin home.

Swinging down nimbly, hands on her hips helping her off he points to the porch. “Go sit, I’ll be back in a moment. Any preferences or regimen?”

“He’ll eat just about anything, unfortunately, given a go at it. All he really needs is hay tonight.” She heads toward the porch.

With Indy settled in, Stosh leads her to the front door, with a gleam in his eyes as he sweeps her up and over the threshold. In one endless moment she relives all the flamboyant, crazy things that depicted his style in college, just one of the qualities that drew them together, memories that tug at her heartstrings. 




In the Beginning



The living room is stunning, a great room about 45’ x 40’ with vaulted ceiling, huge triangular windows, a massive stone fireplace, open beams at the single story level and a magnificent antler chandelier. She looks at him with admiration, all eyes, just beginning to remember how much they really did have in common and he tosses her into a big, overstuffed chair done in RL plaid, pulling up the footstool in front of her smile gone, seriousness shrouding his sexy features.

“I want you as my slave, Veronica, nothing less. I know this whole concept is new to you and very much against societies decorum…but…I think, deep down, something in this appeals to you, yes?” his eyes watch hers intently, the sudden shine of wary apprehension at his mood, the almost comic chuckle that bubbles up in disbelief at the word slave. He continues to watch her as she lets his words wash over her, testing them out, staring deep into his eyes before offering a timid nod.

“You need to understand, Veri, for me, this is not a game.” A small frown line appears between his eyebrows as he sits there reading her expression. “We will take it slowly, my love, step by exquisite step, building your responses to me, mine to you. You will always be able to say no, Veri, always.”

She stared at him in bewilderment, wondering what he meant, what step by step, all the while a frisson of entitlement, a sense of right, burning through her veins.

“OK,” she blushes, the word sounding so pathetic, so simple in light of the curiosity burning through her mind.

“Yes,” the satisfaction in that simple word, the comprehension and pride in his eyes soothe and titillate at the same 

time. “You will address me as Sir, Veri. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand…S.sir,” her soft stutter over the syllable makes him smile.

“You will address me as I tell you and you will agree to obey each instruction I give you, as quickly, gracefully and sensuously as you are able,” his eyes, black with the arousal, peruse her face. “And I remember, clearly, in detail, just how sensual you can be Veronica...intimately. Unbutton your jeans, Veri.”

The demand surprises her, her fingers lighting slowly on the snap, trembling as she does so. She watches his eyes quirk, misunderstanding the look of expectation there, her fingers falling to the zip as his stop them. 

“Always address me, Veronica, when I speak to you.”

“Yes, Sir,” the humor of the situation tickles her funny bone, coloring her response and she sees a fleeting shine of humor in his eyes before the intensity is back in his gaze.

“Now…slowly, sensually…unzip your jeans and remove them without getting off the chair,” there is a challenge in his words, his calm serenity mocking the hard beat of her heart.

She reaches down, lowering the zip, meaning to tuck her feet beneath her and looks helplessly at the boots on her feet.

“May I…may I remove my boots, Stosh..umm..Sir?” her voice reflects her concern, the seriousness in her eyes making his dance with humor. Saying nothing, his strong hands cup her heel, tugging lightly at the boot until it gives way, holding out his hands for the other.

“Thank you.” She tacks on the requisite sir as the muscle in his jaw tightens, feeling her own tension relax as he does.

Tucking her feet beneath her in a sensual curl, she rises to her knees, her eyebrow quirked at his as if to say, “I’m still on the chair”. With his nod she shimmies the denim over her hips, watching his eyes follow the thin, sheer black silk of her thong as it emerges from the jeans, playing the denim down lower and lower until it pools at her knees. Slowly, one hand braced against the hard muscles of his shoulder, she rises, lifting one small foot then the other from the jeans before turning around and bending down to pick them up, folding them into a neat pile on the top of the chair, the full, round cheeks of her bottom feeling the warmth of his breath.

“Beautifully done, Veri…now put your hands back on the back of the chair, arch your back and SHOW ME your ass.” The cadence to the demand, the stress on “show me” has her quivering as she does so.

The warmth of his big, callused hands start at her ankles, his thumbs caressing the arch of her foot, encircling her ankle in a tight grip before his fingers wander upward. Gently, his fingertips play over her calves and she feels the muscles quiver beneath them. Her soft gasp brings a small chuckle as they play over the sensitive skin at the backs of her knees and his lips follow, placing a sensual kiss behind each.

“You like that, Veri?”

“Yes!” 

He turns the “yes” to a squeal and then the appropriate “Yes, Sir” with a fast, hard slap of his palm on her right cheek, its impact ringing around the big vaulted room, imprinting itself on her flesh and her senses in a manner she’d never known.

“I’ve always loved the smell of you, Veronica, aroused and ready, your cunt aching for me.” His lips slide upward from her knees, his palms cupping the full cheeks of her ass even as she stiffens, reacting to the harsh, coarse language he’s chosen.

“Drop your panties for me, Veri…SHOW ME that hot, aching cunt of yours. DO IT,” his voice, calm, serene and liquid in its sensuality deepens on the commands, sending their nuances shuddering through her.

“Yes, Sir,” her fingers find the band of her panties, sliding beneath it at her hips, pulling upward on the material with a saucy jerk feeling it slide between the crack of her ass and pull lightly against the swell of her throbbing clit. His chuckle of amusement at her impudence warms her and she slides the sheer black fabric erotically down, over the full curves of her hips and the taut slope of her bottom letting them pool around her feet, the heat of his fingers burning against their soles as he removes them.

“Bring your knees down. Rest them on the arms of the chair and push your breasts into the back of the chair, Veronica. Leave your hands above, gripping the top.” The sensual shudder his words bring flows visually through her, his mouth planting a soft kiss on one cheek as she lowers herself uncertainly to do as he’s asked.

With her left knee resting on the arm of the chair his hands grip her shoulders, stopping her movement and his deft fingers remove her tank top, releasing the catch of her bra in a movement so well rehearsed it takes her breath away, her breasts bouncing free of their confinement. His palm, at her back, pressing her into the cool material of the chair; her nipples, achingly hard and sensitive savaged by the brush of the course fabric drawing a moan of sheer delight from her.

Reaching down his grip clenches on the soft flesh of her left thigh, just above the knee, holding it firmly to the arm of the chair, the other following suit on her right knee. She hesitates, unbalanced and shy, as he guides the right knee toward the other arm, a position that will leave her sex spread wide to the cool air and his heated gaze.

“Delicious tramp, don’t fight me. DO IT!” It’s a growl, a sensually erotic growl and she hastens to obey. 

Trembling, her knees spread as wide as they would go, she leans into the chair, her cheeks coloring in shame and…and a building excitement that leaves her shaken. She wants, so badly, to see his expression but her modesty won’t permit it. His fingers loosen on her thighs, two fingertips of each hand trailing teasingly upward over the tense muscles, taunting her aching center with their silent promise. His lips press a soft kiss to the lower curve of her right cheek her face flaming with renewed color as she hears him breathe in deeply.

“Yes, Veri, I love the smell of your aroused cunt. And you are aroused aren’t you? No need to answer, I can see the sweet slickness pooling around your lips. In moments, Veri, my love, you’ll be, quite literally, dripping for me, won’t you?”

Mortification sends the color from her face down over the proud peaks of her breasts as she realizes how right he is, feeling the wetness of her sex sliding viscously between the swollen folds of her labia, pooling there. His fingertips travel further yet, caressing the delicate skin just below her sex. Her muscles clench in response sending the liquid heat cascading over the temporary dam of her lips to spill over his fingers and slide down her thighs accompanied by a purely male satisfied laughter.

“Ask me, Veronica!” the command, demanding and harsh, bounces around the room.

“Please, Stosh…touch me, please.”

She stands trembling before him hearing the soft rustle of his jeans, the tiny clink of metal against metal and her confusion clears as she pictures his fingers unbuckling his belt. The ache of hunger in her belly expands, picturing the full thrust of him even as her ears pick up the soft slide leather through denim, wanting to feel him deep inside and moaning at the thought.

The whistle of leather and the harsh crack of its impact against the soft curve of her right cheek steals her breath away. She stiffens in outrage, her hands pushing her body away from the chair, her head spinning around as his palms pin her there, his white teeth, grinning, inches from her startled eyes.

“Do you understand why, Veri?” quiet, deadly quiet, his breath tickles her cheek as her mute eyes look up at him in anguish, watching as she shakes her head “no”. “How do you address me, sweet, hungry tramp?” 

The leather of the belt caresses lightly the sore cheek before dipping between her thighs and pressing against her most intimate flesh.

“Sir…oh please touch me.” The ache of the stripe, hot against her cheek sublimates to pure pleasure with the caress of the leather.

“Not…quite…yet, Veri…do you remember when I asked that question earlier?” her eyes open wide with understanding, quivering with the thought of her own cheeky response, his laughter a mix of pride, assurance and sympathy as he watches her reaction. “Yes, my love. I want you to push away from the chair, your beautiful ass pressed backwards. Five strokes, Veronica…and each you will count out loud. Do you understand?” His mouth next to her ear, his teeth clamped lightly to her ear lobe, worrying that tender bit of flesh affectionately.

“Yes, Sir…I understand.” 

Pressing her palms against the deep plush of the chairs back she slides her knees back a little, ankles angling in toward her buttocks, back arches presenting her ass for his…discipline…

“One, Sir.” The cry is drawn raggedly from her with the first descent of the belt, the harsh crack resounding in her ears as he brings it down hard against her left cheek. His chuckle brings color to her other cheeks as he tells her the “sir” is unnecessary for the count. Two follows slowly, no movement giving away the moment of its descent and then three, four and five following one on top of the other, stealing her breath and bringing the soft shimmer of tears to her eyes with their brutal sting.

“Jesus,” a grunt, husky and harsh at the same time and she hears the descent of his zipper and the rustle of fabric behind her.

Glancing over her shoulder, her lower lip held quivering between her teeth, her tearful gaze is greeted by the rampant release of his magnificent erection, throbbing in his hands. A small smile crosses her lips at the look of sheer relief in his expression as he pulls free of the confining garments. His eyes rise, meeting hers, hungry and black with sensual need.

“Ask me!” harshly commanding, his eyes hold hers.

“Please Sir, touch me? Stroke me Stosh, stroke my …c.cunt, please Sir?” her voice quavers with desire and shame, the course language tripping over her tongue.

“Sweet tramp. Sweet, dripping, aching tramp,” it comes out as a growl, his fingers releasing his jutting member and delving between her thighs with a shocking suddenness, his fingers coated in her heat in seconds, sliding up and down her snatch in a primitive, earthy rhythm that has her gasping.

His fingertips pause at the entrance to her sex, stroking the flexing muscles there, taunting teasing her to new heights of hunger before sliding forwards and slicking over her swollen, throbbing clit. Then backwards, pausing and circling her entrance and then all the way back, fingertips slicking sweet juices over that tiny, mist sensitive pucker, his laughter gentle as she tenses. Then forwards again, her breathing ragged with need as he slides a fingertip, just barely, into her hungry cunt, pulling out just as quickly to pull forward, stroking the hood of her clit away from that sensitive nub, stilling, holding her unsheathed in his hand.

“Oh God Stosh, don’t stop…please…don’t stop.” She can feel her juices slicking his entire hand, dripping down her thighs as her belly trembles with the heat that flows in waves outwards down to her sex, up to her engorged, painfully hardened nipples.

His other hand is just as quickly wetted when he slides it next to the first, pulling the hood of her clit back between the thumb and forefinger while the three fingers of the first hand prod, caress, circle the throbbing nub now unsheathed, her hips writhing backwards, thrusting against the slow rhythm he’s building. She feels it, the sweet heat coalescing in liquid waves of climax deep within and just as quickly he stops.

“No, no…you can’t,” her knees slip off the chair, her body curling up around itself as his arms scoop her up. Strong hands grip her wrists, preventing her own hands from delving between her wet thighs and completing the job as he rocks her against him, cooing, soothing stroking her hair from her face.

“Ah, but I can…we’re not done talking, Veri.” His eyes, serious again, judge her gasps, releasing her wrists and arranging her in a sitting position on the edge of the chair, pressing her knees wide apart and watching the flush of color in her cheeks.

“Later, Veronica, when you understand more fully the delights and the consequences of our actions together, I will ask you to sign a contract that states the terms of your training and our agreements and understandings. We will talk, in detail, about these subjects, before you sign your contract. 

We will also continue to address issues of concern and care as they come up. I will always encourage you to communicate your likes, dislikes, concerns and limits. Although I will bring you pain at times, I will never, ever hurt you, Veri…ever…. I will never cross further over your limits than you are willing to go, and you are always able to ask to stop. We will find, between us, a new level of pleasure and communication, Veri…one that I have yet to experience even. Believe me and unlike anything you have known previously…” Dark eyebrows quirk, an intimate fire burning in his dark eyes as his fingers trace her lips, inquiring, wordlessly, if she understands.

“We will agree on these things together, sweet tramp,” the endearment falling more easily on her ears is followed with a gentle nip to the corner of her mouth, “and I will never push you farther than I think you can go, my love. You will have safe words, words that we agree on that tell me when you’re scared, when you’re at your limit, and when you want to stop. I will always respect those, as I will always respect you.”

Slowly, the words sink into her passion-steeped mind, the new concepts wrapping themselves around her senses like a caress, beckoning her further. 

“And may I think about this, or must I decide immediately?” Her saucy tone, despite the husky, heaving pants of her breath, raises his eyebrows, that amused smile tugging at the corners of his sensuous mouth.

“I would wonder if you are really the girl I know, if you agreed immediately.” His voice softens, eyes dancing. “We will make our decisions slowly, together, beloved tramp. Meanwhile….tonight…..” A broad, knowing smile wreathes his face, the dimple in his left cheek appearing briefly.

“Yes….” I whisper huskily. “Please Sir…what about tonight?”

“There’s my girl….living for the moment. Nice to know some things don’t change.” His laughter plays lightly over her ears as he touches his temple ruefully, a very few silver highlights shining there. “Tonight, we will play, little one. You will call me Sir, each and every time you address me. I will not restrict your conversation, because I want to know everything you’re feeling, everything you need from me…. I will love you, Veronica, like you’ve only ever dreamed….”

“Oh please….” Her body quivers with flame of wanton abandon deep in her belly, her voice reverberating with that need.

His grip, hard on her shoulders, draws her up directly in front of him. Looking up into his face, seeing the disapproval there, she look at him helplessly, his lips inches from her own.

“You will address me as what, girl?”

“Oh please, Sir?” the impish tone does not hide the echo of adoration that rings in her voice, a primeval word from another time that seems to suit him perfectly. Briefly, she wonders what happened to the Stosh she’d known in school, the one that was embarrassed by the attention he drew from men and women alike.

“Hmmm…..saucy bitch.” He smiled to soften what would become a loving endearment in the months to come, his teeth grazing her lower lip, biting lightly and pulling away. “Stand and pose for me Veri, put those thoughts of old times to good use and find a position you know I will like.”

His perception and intuition has always been superb and she pauses, considering old times and her options with a cheeky grin.

“I trust that is a thoughtful smile while you consider how best to please me?” His tone reprimanding yet soft and warm tingles through her.

Slowly, each movement sensually languorous she strides slowly around the room, calculating, remembering intimate moments. She pauses in front of the fireplace, reaching one delicate hand upward, watching his eyes take in the subtle rise of her breasts, their peaks hard as buttons. She lowers it, shaking her head, clucking to herself and glancing to see the small grin on his lips from the corner of her eye as she pads back towards the sofa and the long, wooden table in front of it.

“You’re in beautiful shape, little one.” He catches her halfway across the room, his eyes and fingers caressing her long legs, shapely hips and sweet, smooth snatch before waving a hand to continue.

A little disgruntled by his nonchalance, she pauses before the table, her back to him, lithe thighs and arched back coyly displayed, remembering his passion for the sweet curves of her haunches and ass. She crawls, a sensual slither, onto the low table, it’s smooth mellow tones a perfect background for her own golden presence. 

She remembers a pose from a comic book, a breathtakingly sensual European comic book that she and LeeAnne had oohed and aahed over for weeks, a woman, kneeling in a seductive pose for the man in front of her. Closing her eyes in concentration she mimics what she remembers, tiny ankles tucked firmly beneath the taut muscles of her thighs, her shoulders back, breasts proud and full before her, nipples hard, achingly so. She opens her eyes, tilting her head back just a bit so that her long blonde hair cascades in a tempting chaos over her shoulders and meets his gaze.

Like fire, it burns through her, his sheer masculine arousal blazing from him in every way possible. Anyone else would have looked silly, his booted feet at shoulder width, his jeans low and undone over his hips the proud rear of his rampant erection jutting boldly before him. Stunned, she drops her eyes, reeling from their impact, hunger, greedy, rapacious flooding her senses.

“Never hide yourself from me, Veri…in any way.” So completely overwhelmed by the sensuality of his look she didn’t even hear his stride crossing the room, his thumb settling gently on her chin, tilting her gaze back to his. “Be proud of yourself, Veri…be very very proud. I know I am.”

The cadence, the tone and the husky, barely restrained ardor in his voice and his caress send ripples of hunger flowing through her like a current. His mouth descends, pressing a caressing kiss to the slope of one breast before sucking its peak hungrily into his mouth, teeth grazing its surface in an aching blaze of sensation.




In the Beginning



Before she can speak his lips leave her, a desolate feeling before he drops to his knees, his lips fastening on the delicate skin of her belly, latching on, sucking hard, worrying the soft flesh until it throbs painfully. He stops, his lips caress the mark he’s left, his tongue stroking it lightly before moving to the left several inches and repeating the process, fingers strong and hard against the flesh of her hips, turning her little by little, leaving a perfect chain of deep wine colored bite marks around her belly. He finishes the chain, his lips dropping two inches below the navel as she draws in a quick breath, a gasp, and bites again, while strong hard fingers wander lower. 

“Oh God Stosh…Sir! Sir! Pleaseeeee,” a frenzy of words pouring forth with no rhyme and little reason.

“Get on your hands and knees for me, Veri.” She does barely thinking about it, presenting her flanks and the soft swell of her bottom for his view, reveling in the strong hands that spread her knees cruelly wide.

“Perfect. The perfect height Veri…see. Look!” his voice lashes out.

She glances back at him, her thighs quivering with her own weight and the need to feel him deep inside of her. She watches his hand, cupped at the base of his throbbing shaft bring the tip of it, the swollen knob of his cock up against her sex. She shudders, nodding her head in agreement. The perfect height.

With agonizing slowness, he presses himself down the wet slickness of her groove, coating himself in her essence, driving her mad with hunger. Her cunt muscles, squeezing together of their own volition, slicks him even further and she hears the grunt of tightly restrained need echo from him, delighting her senses.

“Please, Stosh…Oh God please…take me…Sir take me,” all modesty has been shed to the bone.

“Yes Veri…plead with me…ask me…beg me Veri.” His goading words should have warned her, his voice dropping to a dark register. “For all the years you’ve never said it, Veronica…I want to hear you say fuck me…again, and again, and again until I’ve had enough. DO IT.”

With each “again” the head of his cock, throbbing and hot pressed against the entrance to her sex, sliding against the tight circle of muscle there, feeling her clamp helplessly around the slippery knob and pulling back, allowing her no grip. His fingers dip forward, between her thighs, slow intimate circles around her clit as he backs off, pushing against that tightest, dirtiest entrance watching her writhe in abandon.

“Fuck me, Stosh…fuck me…please God…fuck me.” he slips gently into that tight entrance, his fingers building a crescendo of pleasure balanced only by the slick hard pain of his entrance…she rocks forward against his fingers, feeling the rush and he pulls her backwards harder against his cock, sliding slowly deeper.

“Oh God...yes, please…fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” her mantra grows more shrill with every moment, his tension building to an unbelievable level behind her.

“Yes, tramp of my dreams…Yes…now!” 

His thrust, deep within her tight pussy took her there, took her further than she’d ever been, the hard knob of him pressing against her cervix, conquering its tight aperture and thrusting beyond bringing an achingly intimate throb of pain and pleasure. His deep throaty growl, primitive and all male, of satisfaction and triumph, of primal possession echoed and mingled with her own scream of climax, resounding around them both as his cock throbbed deep within her like a separate living animal, gushing its warm fluids deep within her clenching, grasping cunt as she rocked with each surge, each earth shattering wave of release that devastated everything she knew, rocking her world, throwing her into another reality altogether, one of animalistic pleasure that knew no bounds. Reality bending and slipping away.

Cradled against him, raspy breathing slowly stilling she looks over her shoulder, glowing with the pride and sensual delight that shines from his black eyes.

“Ask me,” silently, his lips form the question.

“Please, Master…let me be your slave?”