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On the 6

By: beach2travel



I was heading out after work to meet up with a friend for a drink. I was running a bit behind as usual. Seems I can never get out of the office when It counts. She was going to be pissed if I made her wait yet again. Fortunately I was able to change in my office while I was on the conference call. I keep an armoire with suits, shirts, pants, shoes, etc. Mostly so I can ride the motorcycle in to work and change when I get there. However it comes in handy when I want to head out and leave work completely behind. I can change into something much more comfortable to help set the mood and help me forget the days stress. Truth be told there is sort of a thrill stripping down while you are negotiating a deal. I am sure I am not the only one. I know a woman who uses her breast pump while she is on conference calls. I often wonder if the people I am speaking with can hear my zipper as I lower my pants.

So I finished up with the call, adjusted my belt and headed for Grand Central to hop on the subway. It's just a three minute walk and there is no faster way around the city. That's the thing with New York if you have been here long enough. You get to know exactly how long it takes you to get to and from your most traveled places. Usually down to the half minute, that and where to stand on the subway platform so you are closest to the exit at the station to which you are headed. Always trying to save time. 

I made it to the platform in about 4 minutes. There were a lot of people on the escalator slowing me down. Rush hour on the 6 can be a little crowded and is certainly not for the claustrophobic. 

The platform was packed. I tried to walk down a bit to leave some of the crowd behind but there were people everywhere and I was resigned to dealing with the mass of humanity. The local was the first enter the station. After the doors opened and the throng of people looking to catch the Metro North exited, the tide reversed and the flow of bodies poured in to the cars. I barely had to move my legs as I was pressed into the car by the herd of commuters with people all around me. I was too far from the pole or the doors to hold on without being rude so i just did the best I could maintaining my balance as the train began to leave the station. The young woman in front of me took a short step back, pressing her ass into my crotch. I had no room to move back so I tried to take a slight side step so I was not rubbing up against her. 

She was having a conversation with a woman who appeared to be her mother. It seems they were out shopping, had a few bags with them. They were talking about this and that, completely engaged with each other. I was surprised when the younger woman who had just stepped back and who must have felt my cock rubbing on her ass turned into me again. All the while continuing to talk with her mother who was standing directly in front of her. There was no where left to move. It was a warm spring day, I had changed into a very light pair of slacks and had taken off my boxers as the pants were just form fitting enough that wearing the underwear beneath them was uncomfortable. Now there was only the thin material of my pants and the even thinner material of her light sundress between her ass and my cock.

As the train began to pick up speed and rock back and forth we started to sway and rub against each other, my cock snuggling right in the crack of her ass. I was sure she had to feel my excitement growing. I stole a look at her mother to see if she noticed anything or if she felt her daughter was uncomfortable in anyway. They just continued on chatting. Then I felt it. Ever so subtly my new playmate was clenching and releasing her ass cheeks, playing with my cock. She was doing this all the while she was standing there talking with her mother, who was right in front of us. What a naughty girl, playing with a strangers cock while in the presence of her mom.

I completely relaxed now and let the moment happen. My cock grew to it's full length straining at my pants and firmly placed between the daughters ass cheeks. All the while she was clenching and sliding along the length of my cock which was beginning to grow painful as it was pointing down my pant leg straining for release. Both her and her mother were engrossed in their conversation. The mother oblivious to the daughters ministrations on my ever hardening cock. 

I fantasized about lifting her dress and sliding deep inside her while she kept speaking with her mom, this thought was making me harder still. The train made it's next stop and more people got on causing me to press into her even more and still their conversation continued. 

I was beginning to think this woman was going to make me cum right here on the train in front of her mother. I began pressing into her deeper and we developed a synchronized rhythm. The next couple of stops thinned the crowd out slightly but she never moved away. I could feel the urgency beginning to build in me, the precum lubricating me. 

Then just as i was getting ready to cum, she slowly bent down at her waist reaching into her bag pressing her pussy fully against my cock from behind as if we were fucking doggy style. Her mother and I made eye contact for just a moment. The way you would with a stranger on the street where you slightly smile and move on. Except this strangers daughter had her pussy pressed against my cock and was about to make me cum. 

Her daughter rubbed her pussy up and down my cock a few times through our clothes by flexing her knees in this position before she stood and resumed talking to her mother. I so wanted to grab her and fuck her against the door of the train. Her legs wrapped around me, my cock buried deep in her pussy with her mother watching. 

And then just as suddenly as it began, it ended. They both got off at the next station without so much as a glance back to me. I was left panting with a raging hard on which was obvious to everyone who looked my way. I saw more than one person turn to their companion to point out my predicament. 

All I could think of was I hoped my drinking partner wasn't going to be too mad at my being so late because I really needed a release right away! 

On The A-Train



It was one of those warm and somewhat humid days in early summer. Everyone in New York who could was wearing as little clothing as they could. No jackets except for the men in suits who worked offices and similar places downtown. I got on the "A" train at Dyckman station. I usually take the express when heading to New York University on McDougal, where I teach psychology, but today, I had to stop midway and it takes longer to change trains than to take a regular at the beginning.

I was lucky and found an open seat. The train pulled into xx and the doors opened. Among the entering passengers was an attractive older woman carrying a violin case. She looked around for a seat, but by now there weren't any available, so she came over and grabbed a strap-hanger near me. She was one of those people who just exuded a kind of gentle sexual energy. Forty years past her teens, she was captivating, even elegant, physically and the violin suggested that she was a fascinating woman mentally and emotionally. She was wearing a light dress that triggered the imagination. Not that she was blatant at all, but when she reached up to hold the strap, the curve of her breasts pushed against the blouse. They were not large but they were well-shaped.

It was hard not to stare. As she placed her instrument on the shelf, she had to stretch even further. The train lurched and she grabbed the edge of the shelf for stability and just held on. I noticed that I was not the only one starring. Across the aisle was another man who could not take his eyes off of her.

As the train steadied, he let go of his strap and crossed the aisle to stand just behind her. He touched her shoulder. I had not seen him enter so I thought that perhaps they had gotten on together. I prepared myself to intervene but, especially since she didn't pull away from his touch, I decided to just watch. A moment later, he reached down and put a hand on her waist. I could see a faint smile on her face in reaction to this.

She dropped her strap, reached across and grabbed his hand. I expected that she was going to remove it but she instead moved his hand to discreetly touch her breast. Lucky guy, I thought, as she very gently pressed it down against her.

At the next station, more people got on, shielding the action from the view of others, but thanks to my vantage point, I had the right perspective. She had been holding on to the shelf with one hand, now she moved the other hand to the shelf edge, exposing the underside of her arms. He gently touched the underside of her upper arm. Her sleeveless dress had quite large armholes. Taking advantage of that, he moved down and through, and began massaging her breasts. It was very discreet. Only because of my position could I see it. 

Gradually he went under her bra and touched her nipples ever so gently. The smile on her face let me know that their pleasure was mutual. She was giving herself over to the feeling.

Eventually, the man went further to massage her body as much as he could with the small area available through the armhole. She reached down then to a small zipper on the side of the dress, and unzipped it so he could enter there. When the train jostled all the passengers, he took advantage of that and put his other had though this new opening. Now, he had one hand fondling her breast and the other gently touching her thigh and her stomach.

My viewpoint was momentarily obscured. That was a break I needed to catch my own breath and handle my own feelings. What were those feelings? As I remember it, they were first of all the sexual excitement that this couple was transmitting. I could understand the pleasure that a voyeur feels. After all, was I not a voyeur here? I could hardly deny what was going on in my limbic system. 

Fortunately, the person who got in the way of my view, moved and I could see again what was going on in my own personal X-rated experience. It was clear that these two were enjoying themselves. I think they were wishing there were more openings in that dress, but they were taking advantage of the ones that were there. By now his hands were exploring more and more of her body and she was certainly encouraging.

Even from my privileged vantage point, I could not see all that was happening, but I got the impression that her legs had parted a bit and that his hand had managed to descend into whatever space was there. Her face was somewhat contorted, but very pleasurably.

Two more stops went by and as the train slowed down for the third one, I could see that the man was extricating himself. He gave her nipple one more gentle touch and removed his hand from the armhole. The he pulled his other hand out of the zipper and gently zipped it back up. 

As the train was coming to a stop, he kissed the back of her neck and gently caressed her buttocks. He stepped back and vanished through the door to the platform. I watched carefully to see her reaction. Her face registered a sense of pleasure and self-satisfaction.

Two stops later, at Penn Station, very calmly, as though nothing special had happened, except for a slight knowing smile, she too got off the train. As the doors closed I kept pondering what I had seen and felt. It took me all the way to my West 4th St. station to remember.

What I remembered was Erica Jong's expression, "the zipless fuck". Walking into an elevator, locking eyes with a woman (or man) and without further ado proceeding to engage in hot, passionate sex between the 5th and 45th floors. You finish, compose yourselves, and go your separate ways, never to meet again. The zipless fuck is absolutely pure. It is free of ulterior motives. There is no power game. The man is not "taking" and the woman is not "giving." No one is attempting to cuckold a husband or humiliate a wife. No one is trying to prove anything or get anything out of anyone. The zipless fuck is the purest thing there is. And it is rarer than the unicorn. And I have never had one." (Jong, Fear of Flying)  



On the Afternoon Breeze



Casey would have been here today, Valentine's Day. He should have been here today. He'd set out five states away from her the day before yesterday, but he had only made it to the edge of the first state before the thirty-car pileup on the fog-bound river bridge. He'd sounded so excited when he called her that last time from the rest stop just before the river. He said he had something special to give her and something important to ask her.

Beth turns onto her back in the chaise lounge in the garden pavilion. She tries to open her eyes, but the fear of being fully conscious and the pull of the sedatives drags her further and further into oblivion. She is exhausted, completely wrung out, and should be all cried out, but yet she still feels like bawling and can't turn off the tears, even in drugged repose. She feels so hopeless and helpless. And empty.

A puff of breeze wafts through the pavilion screening and brushes across her cheek, drying, if only for a moment, the tears that won't stop flowing. Like the teasing of Casey's breath on her cheeks and closed eyelids that he liked to use to signal the start of their love-making. She moans and slits her kimono open off her naked body, half in remembered response to her departed lover and half to welcome the slight breeze slicing through the hot, humid air flowing in from the Gulf.

A whisper on the afternoon breeze. Casey, beginning his worship of her body. Murmuring his awe of her naked body, opening like the unfolding of a lotus blossom to him . The brush of his kiss on her dimpling breasts and tightening nipples as, like the breeze now drifting across her exposed breasts, he gently blew on her burnished skin and then lightly played with her nipples with his lips.

Beth sighs and, in her half consciousness, brushes her fingers across her nipples, making them taunt and tender to the touch. She moans as she had moaned for Casey's attentions there.

Her other hand slides down across her belly, gently caressing her skin as it moves, just as Casey had done with, first his strong, sensuous fingers, gently circling and descending, and then with his full lips and darting tongue. Ever lower, ever closer, ever more arousing.

The breeze stops and Beth groans. A terrifying moment of loss and unbearable sorrow. Her eyelids flutter. The light is growing dimmer. Another day stealing away. Another day separating her from the presence of Casey. She cannot bear this. She tightly closes her eyelids and shudders, forcing herself deeper into sleep and dreams . . . and into never-ending despair. The breeze steals back into the pavilion. Beth settles again and her fingers continue their descent.

She has centered them now, and she parts the labia, just as Casey would do. She touches the tenderest if spots with her forefinger and begins to rub it gently in a familiar circling motion. She wills herself to feel Casey's touch, pulling him back from the beyond with all her might. And she sighs and moans as she feels the touch of his lips on her there. And the flicking of his tongue. She begins to move her hips to his touch and to make small, meowing sounds at the back of her throat.

Her fingers slide further in, and she begins to moisten and to move in a slow, rocking motion. She feels the weight of Casey on her now in the hot, humid afternoon air coming off the Gulf waters. There's a humming noise. Is it a motorboat out on the water moving past? Or is it that low, humming, fully aroused sound Casey made when he was preparing to slide into her? Or is it just she, herself, responding to her own summoning of her lost lover?

She opens her legs to the deeper penetration of her fingers . . . of Casey entering her, filling her, stretching her, and then moving inside her, matching the undulations of her pelvis with deep sliding, powerful, yet gentle, fully possessing thrusts.

Beth groans and moans. A deep, full-throated sound. The sound of Casey nearing his climax deep inside her. Her own flow and tightening and frenzied twitches. Once, twice, three times. A guttural cry. A shared death. A deep sigh.

Running her hands back up across her belly and breasts. Murmuring her love and acceptance of Casey's homage and attention.

One of Beth's arms extends out and her hand brushes across the surface of the side table. She feels cold metal. Something unexpected. She forces her eyes to slit open and focuses her mind to the edge of consciousness with great effort.

Looking over at her side, she sees it. A gold heart-shaped locket on a gold chain.

A surprise. This wasn't there before, was it? She fights hard to concentrate on it, picking out at last the word engraved on the filigree surface of the locket. "Beth," it says. Turning it over and regrouping her effort to concentrate hard again. "Casey." Think, think. Casey said he was bringing her a surprise. Is this a surprise? Has this suddenly appeared, evidence of Casey's visitation, his homage of love across the great divide? Or his real presence? Casey here, on the afternoon breeze, not gone? Thump, thump. Beth can feel the rapid beating of her heart deep inside her—where she had given entry to her lover. Only to him. To no one else.

The thumping grows dull, mournful. Was this brought to her earlier today? A token to assuage her grief, brought by that nice, soft-spoken woman? Think. Think. Was that woman here today? Or was it man? Or was that last week?

But Beth doesn't want to think. She doesn't want to feel. She wants the comfort of her own reality—if just for now. She gives in, willingly. to the pull of the drugs. Clutching the gold locket to her moist breast, she lays back on the chaise lounge. Holding on to the feel of Casey on her skin and deep inside her. The presence of Casey on the Valentine's Day afternoon breeze.



On the Air - Off the Air







On the Air - Off the Air



Her response left no doubt as she mashed her lips against his, her hands tearing at his shirt to remove it. Her lipstick smeared over his mouth as she drove her tongue between his lips. Her fingernails raking across his back until she suddenly pulled away and lightly bit his left shoulder.

"Now you're mine," she whispered in her best faux vampire voice.

Just then the alarm went off again, this time signaling the end of the pre-recorded music. 

Frustrated, Toni reached for the microphone and switched it back on. "Sorry about that, listeners. We apparently are experiencing some transmission problems with another station. We will now return to our scheduled programming."

"Sarah, would you be so kind as to continue?"

"Of course," she replied almost forgetting to switch microphones until Jason frantically motioned to her. "As I was saying, Sam was proving himself to be every bit the lover I had hoped for."

Jason took his cue and again began to play with Toni's nipples.

"His touch was so gentle and yet it was triggering all the right sensations. Then he did something I never expected ..."

"And what was that?" Toni interjected.

"He took my nipples and pulled on them. I don't mean a little bit, I mean he pulled on them until I thought he was going to rip them off of my boobs. I was just about to say something when he let go and they snapped back against my chest. I had never felt anything like it before. They hurt but at the same time, I felt a thrill rush through me from my nipples right down to my ... ... can I say that on the radio?"

"Go right ahead," Toni faintly replied without moving her chair. In actuality, she wasn't sure at all but didn't care at the moment.

"... to my pussy. Ohhhhhhh, it felt so good.

Jason's hands immediately reproduced the scene as he mauled Toni's tits and nipples.

"I can only imagine," Toni purred as her tits snapped back into place.

"It was only natural that his mouth followed his hands. I still remember the way it felt when he kissed my nipple, almost like he had kissed me on the lips. And just like that, he began to use his tongue on me. First he would lick across my nipple, getting it wet and then he blew on it. The feel of his breath sent shivers up and down my spine. I was sure I was going to cum if I didn't do something but he never gave me a chance. It was like he was reading my mind because he suddenly lowered his lips to my nipple and sucked it into his mouth. Oh god, it was so warm and his tongue felt like velvet sandpaper running across it. That was when I knew I was lost. I felt my pussy begin to quiver and my body felt like it was on fire as I came," Toni/Sarah groaned.

Sensing what was about to happen, Jason latched onto one of Toni's nipples and sucked it back into his mouth before biting down on it.

Toni squeezed her eyes shut as her body responded. Her back arched offering herself to him. Stars burst in front of her eyes and her body quivered as she bit down on her lower lip to keep from screaming. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her, leaving her quivering. Only the sound of her irregular breathing could be heard by her listeners.

Silently, Jason stood and reached for the microphone until Toni stopped him, shaking her head. "Thank you, Sarah," she said breathlessly. "Now Sam would you like to tell us your version up to this point?"

Though he was reluctant to do so, Jason sat down before turning his microphone on and taking on the Sam persona. "Sure. Like Sarah said, the first time we met I knew there was something between us but, hey, she was my step-mom. She and my dad got married when I was 15 years old. If I remember right she was 22. I know that sounds a bit weird since my dad was 37 but I figured it was one of those 'mid-life crisis' things everyone talks about. Anyway, I didn't really think a whole lot about her, except as my new mom, until my dad died. I had just turned 18 and it was if my eyes were suddenly opened."

He paused to take a breath before continuing. "That was when I suddenly saw her as a woman too. We still did everything together but they somehow felt different. I started noticing how she was dressed, especially if she was wearing nylons. It sounds sort of perverted but I would get such a hard-on I'd have to run to my room and jack-off. After awhile, I even snuck into her room and checked out her lingerie drawer. I found half-bras, crotchless panties, along with different colored garters and nylons. I even took some and hid them in my room to jack-off into. That was when I started writing about her. Well, that's not exactly true. I started dreaming about her first, than I started writing about her and what I would want to do to her if we were lovers."

Having returned from the wonders of her orgasm, Toni listened intently. Occasionally, she had noticed when some of her lingerie seemed to be missing but she owned so much that she figured she had put it in another drawer by accident. It always seemed to turn up after awhile so she never said anything about it. She hadn't even considered that Jason might be using it to jack-off into. A mental picture of her lingerie coated in cum suddenly filled her mind and she felt her pussy rumble.

Ever so slowly, she stood and moved towards Jason as he continued talking. Her blouse and bra still lay in the chair. Sensually, she ran her hands up through her hair, fluffing it, before running them down to her skirt. Her hands moved fluidly as she unzipped the side while holding it up with her other hand. Turning her back to him, she let go and felt it slide over her hips and settle to the floor around her feet.

Jason stared at the vision before him. Toni stood with her back to him wearing only a pair of panties, a black garter belt, skin-toned hose, and a pair of black stiletto heels. "Mmmmmm, yaaa, aaahhhh," he stammered. 

"The first time I actually saw her nude, though, was one night when I came home from a party early. She was in the backyard swimming. I didn't think anything of it until I got up to my room and looked outside. I could see that she was skinny-dipping so I didn't turn on my light. Instead, I sat there in the dark watching her. She was absolutely gorgeous ... and still is," he added. "She must have spent about a half-hour swimming before she got out. That was when I saw her. I hadn't even realized how turned-on I was until I felt my cum filling my boxer-briefs."

She turned towards Jason and let him get a view of her entire body as she shook her finger at him as if reprimanding him for peeking at her in the pool.

"I never said anything to her about it but tried many times to see her again."

"Interesting," Toni said into her microphone. "So you had already seen her nude, though she didn't know it. Now tell us about that first night."

"Like Sarah said, we were working together and suddenly she opened the top of her blouse. Her tits seemed to spill out exposing the side of her nipple. At first, I thought she'd be embarrassed or pissed at me for staring but instead, she did one of those finger things to have me come closer."

Toni stepped out of her skirt and moved closer while he talked until she was standing between his spread legs. Then she knelt down and ran her hands from his knees up to the waist of his pants and back. The third time, she grabbed the waistband and pulled his pants down. 

He lifted his hips to help as she pulled them all the way down to his ankles. She watched as the hair on his legs stood up and she smiled wickedly as he raised his hips again when she grabbed his boxer-briefs. His cock sprang free of its confinement, pointing up into the air.

"I couldn't believe this was happening until we kissed the first time. I felt my cock getting hard and had to start counting to keep from cumming right then and there. It was like a dream. Here was the woman I'd been fantasizing about for years, my own step-mom, and she was kissing me like a lover. It was just instinct that I began to play with her tits. I knew I could do anything but figured I wanted her to enjoy it, too, so I just played with them and watched as she got more and more turned-on until suddenly she started bucking and moaning. She told me later that I had made her cum."

"I see," Toni croaked as she pulled herself from between Jason's legs. "Is that when you made love to her?"

"Not really. We undressed each other and I got my first close-up look at her. Her hair was hanging down over her shoulders, almost to her back, and her tits hardly sagged at all. The thing that excited me the most was that she was wearing her sexy lingerie; garter belt, hose, stiletto heels, and a pair of crotchless panties. I wanted to make love to her but she had other ideas."

While he had been talking into the microphone, Toni knelt between his legs. Tenderly, she wrapped a hand around his cock and began to slide it up and down the length. Amazed, she watched as it grew. She was no longer paying any attention to what he was saying so she was surprised when she felt his hand on the back of her head pushing her down towards his cock.

"I'll never forget the first time she sucked my cock. She started by kissing the head and then licking my pre-cum off the cap. Her tongue slipped into the slit probing for more. When she was sure there wasn't any, she took my cock into her mouth. Instantly, she started sliding up and down its length, matching it with her hand. Her spit covered it entirely and then I felt her taking more and more into her until her nose was brushing my pubic hairs. I knew she was 'deep-throating' me from the tightness around my cock. She gagged a few times but she never stopped. Instead, she increased her pace until I knew I couldn't last much longer," Jason/Sam mumbled as he felt his balls begin to churn.

Toni felt it, too, and increased her tempo. Her hand became a blur as it flew up and down the length of his shaft. She wanted him, she wanted his cum. She wanted it in her mouth, on her face, covering her tits, and in her pussy.

Jason knew what he wanted and he knew he couldn't do it if he also had to deal with the radio broadcast. Pulling away from Toni, he clamped his hand around his cock to stem the flow of his cum while he flipped the switch to the main microphone, "Ladies and gentlemen. I apologize for this inconvenience but we've just been informed that this broadcast or more precisely the content of this broadcast may violate certain FCC rules. It is for that reason that we are ending the broadcast at this time. We at the station will attempt to resolve this dilemma and notify you if this broadcast is to be completed at a later date. Thank you."

"Why did you do that?" Toni whispered, still kneeling on the floor.

"Because I can't do this 'ON THE AIR','' he grunted as he released the strangle-hold on his cock. Strand after strand of cum rocketed from the tip of his cock, landing on her.

"I like," she murmured as she felt his warm cum splattering on her tits and face.

His legs shook from the intensity of what he was feeling and seeing. Then his knees buckled and he slumped into his chair.

Shuffling over to him, she wrapped her fingers around his cock, sliding them up and down as she milked the last drops from the shaft. Then she leaned over and licked it from the tip. "Mmmmmmm, nice. Salty with a little tang to it."

Jason sat there drained as he watched her scoop his cum from her face and chest with her finger and place it in her mouth. When she was done, she licked each finger to get every drop she could. The sight rejuvenated him and his cock began to harden. "Thank you," he said softly.

Now standing in front of him, grinning she replied, "The pleasure was all mine."

"Not yet," he smirked.

"And exactly what does that mean?"

He stood and stealthily moved towards her as if tracking his prey.

She took a step back and then another and then another. Suddenly she bumped against the broadcast table. Instinctively, she looked over her shoulder which was what Jason had been waiting for. Quickly, scooping her up in his arms he set her on the desk before kneeling between her splayed legs.

"Now the pleasure will be all yours," he joked as he moved towards her aroused pussy. 

"Just what do you think you're doing? Stop it this instant," she said in a faux motherly voice while pulling her knees up towards her chest and hooking her high heels on the edge of the table.

He could see the lips of her pussy through to the slit in her panties but the heady aroma emanating from her was all he needed to confirm that she was just as aroused as he was. Slowly he moved forward, placing a hand on either thigh, spreading them further apart. Her thick outer lips popped from under the material and Jason dove for them. His lips pressed against them as he sent his tongue through the crease to explore the depths of her womanhood.

"Ohhhhhhh, yessssss," she moaned as she arched her back, forcing her pussy against his mouth. 

Savoring the taste, he plunged his tongue on deeper and deeper, exploring every bit of her inner walls. Pulling out, his tongue teased her labia before gliding up and over her clit. His fingers slid along her inner thighs caressing them before slipping into her now empty cavern.

Overcome by the sensations, Toni lay back on the desk as she felt her body respond to his touch. Without thinking about what she was doing, she wrapped her legs behind his head holding him in place while she brought her hands to her breasts, massaging and teasing her distended nipples. Oh god ... oh god ... so good ... so long ... don't stop ... lick me ... tease my clit ... aaauuggghhhh," she groaned.

He had no intention of stopping. Instead, he slipped his hands under her ass and lifted her to his waiting tongue. Instantly, his tongue went into overdrive, fueled by the realization that he was doing exactly what he had written about so many times.

"Ohhhh, that's it baby. Suck my pussy. Lick my juices ... oh god ... need this ... need you ... yessss ... right there. Now bite it. Bite my clit. Lick me ... lick my pussy ... fuck me with your tongue. Now ... now ... yessss ... cummmiinnggg ... NOOOWWWWWWWW!!!" she screeched as her body stiffened and wave after wave of pleasure flowed through her.

The walls of her pussy convulsed around his tongue. He felt trapped until her juices sprayed from her, coating his face. It became a challenge for him to try and lap up her juices before they slid between the crack of her ass and onto the top of the table.

When he was finished, he rose to his feet and leaned over her. For the first time, their bodies touched in all the most intimate places. "No wonder my father said you were the perfect woman," he sighed.

Shifting slightly, she leaned up on one elbow as she wrapped her hand behind his neck and pulled him down to her again. "Do you know what the 'perfect woman' is according to your father?"

A look of bewilderment covered his face as he shook head.

"Your father used to say that the perfect woman was a perfect lady out of bed and a perfect slut in bed."

He stayed as he was, his body pressing down on hers. "I know you've always been a perfect lady out of bed ..."

"Kiss me. I want to see what I taste like," she interrupted. "Then I can show you exactly what a slut I can be in bed."

They kissed deeply. She had tasted her own juices many times before but this time there was something special about the taste and texture, a certain sweetness or maybe it was spice.

Breaking their kiss, he laughed lightly. "But we don't have a bed or at least not here."

"I guess this will have to do," she whispered as she wrapped her hand around his cock, bringing the head to the entrance of her lust-engorged pussy. Then a look of terror filled her eyes and she pushed him away as she tried to sit up. "Stop. We need to stop. I SAID STOP, DAMN IT!" she exclaimed.

He hesitantly stepped away, shocked and bewildered. "What ...? What did I do?"

Seeing the look in his face, she answered in a soothing voice. "It's not you ... and it's not me. Well, maybe it is me. It's been so long I had forgotten that I'm not on 'The Pill' anymore."

"FUCK!" he yelled, disappointed.

As she sat there, her face suddenly brightened, "Not yet, sweetie," she sighed. "Look in the second drawer of your father's old desk."

Dejected, he shuffled to the desk and opened the drawer.

"Now look in the back. They're probably under some of his old papers."

Jason rummaged through the drawer and found a small blue box. Pulling it out, his face lit like a Christmas tree. The box had the logo of a well-known company and across the top it read, 'CONDOMS: Extra thin'. It was unopened. "Is this what you wanted me to get?"

She blushed and nodded her head. "Your father and I used to joke that you never knew when the urge would strike so we should be prepared. We just never needed them here at work."

"But I thought you and dad wanted kids?"

"We did but we didn't. We just never quite came to a decision ... and then he was killed."

As he walked back to the desk, Toni marveled at the sight of his body. Toned, tanned, so much like his father and yet, looking down at his cock, so different. She watched as it bounced up and down as he drew near. Then taking the box from him, she opened it and withdrew one of the foil packets. 

"Have you ever used one of these?"

"Never needed to."

"Come here then," she whispered as she sat on the edge of the table, her legs spread.

He moved between her legs as she took his cock in her hand. Using the other hand, she held the foil package and ripped it open using her teeth. "Take it out," she instructed.

Gently, he pulled the rolled rubber out and stared at it. It felt oily in his hand and though he had read about them, he had never seen a condom before. All of his other lovers had been on 'The Pill' so there hadn't been any need for one.

"Give it here," Toni whispered. When he did, she placed it against the tip of his cock and pushed. Slowly, she worked it down the length of his cock until it was in place. "We're going to have to be careful with that," she said pointing at the condom. "Your father was smaller than you so it's pretty stretched right now."

"Is that why it feels too tight?"

"Yep, but don't worry about that. You'll forget about it real soon. Now give me that cock," she purred. Still sitting on the edge of the table, she wrapped her hand around his member and pulled it back to her opening.

Looking down, he pushed forward. His cockhead disappeared into her.

Her hands instantly grabbed his waist and stopped him from going any further. "Stop right there, big boy. I need a little time to get used to you. Like I said, your father was smaller than you so I haven't had anything that big in me for quite a while."

He gritted his teeth as he fought the urge to drive into her until he felt the pressure around his cock lessen, then ever so slowly he pushed again. This time her body opened to him

"That's it baby, slow and easy. Put that cock of yours inside me. Ohhhhhhhh, yesssssss," she moaned as she felt him slide into her. She could feel her pussy stretch as it tried to take his cock deep inside of her. Her eyes widened as she felt his cock go deeper than anyone she had ever had. It filled her completely and seemed as if it were going to split her in half, yet when she looked down at their joining she was surprised to see that he still had several inches more to go.

Gently, he kept pushing deeper and deeper until he felt their pelvic bones meet and his cock touch her cervix. His hands ran up and down her back, squeezing the upper part of her ass cheeks as he kissed her and they adjusted to each other. Then very slowly, he pulled back and just as slowly, pushed forward.

Toni pulled her legs up and wrapped them around his waist as she encircled his neck with her arms and pulled him down to her breast.




On the Air - Off the Air



Taking the hint, Jason leaned forward to take a nipple in his mouth and suck on it.

"Yessssssssss," she hissed at the sensations running through her body. Her nipples were hardening as he nibbled on them and her pussy was tightening around his cock, holding it like a velvety vice, as he thrust in and out.

"Oh fuck ... so tight ... so good," he moaned as he picked up his pace and began thrusting harder.

"That's it, baby ... keep going ... keep fucking me. So big ... don't stop. Need this so bad ... for so long. Fuck me, lover ... fuck me hard ... drive your cock into me ... make me cum," she sighed as she felt any doubts or inhibitions fade away to be replaced with a mixture of lust and love.

Jason took her words to heart and began pounding into her until he suddenly felt a strange feeling against the head of his cock. Surging into her he felt his cockhead press against her cervix, flesh-against-flesh. Looking down, he noticed the remnants of the condom wrapped around the base of his cock. Instantly, a battle began to rage inside his mind as he tried to decide if he should stop and tell Toni or continue with the most marvelous event of his life.

Unaware of the fact that the condom had broken, Toni drew his head back down to her nipple as she used the other hand to grab his ass and pull him against her with each thrust. "So good ... so deep ... yessssss ... harder ... deeper ... going to cum soon ... don't stop ... now ... going to cum ... now ... yes ... yes ... yessssssssssss," she murmured as her second orgasm of the day took her body to new heights of pleasure.

With every ounce of willpower, he pulled away, startling her. "Gotta stop. Can't go on. Need to pull out now," he groaned.

Toni, instinctively, wrapped her legs around him tighter. "No, please no," she pleaded.

"Condom broke," he sighed as he continued to try and withdraw from her depths.

Looking up at him, she whispered. "I don't care. Fuck me. Fill me with your cum. Make me yours just like in your stories" before pausing ... "Give me your baby."

Her words fulfilled every wish, hope, and desire he had ever written. Thrusting forward, he felt the waves of his own pleasure building until his cum began to surge upwards. He grabbed her hips and pulled her tight as he plunged deep inside of her and exploded. "Aaaahhhhhhh, Cummmmiiinnggggg," he shouted as spurt after spurt of his hot cum coated the inside of her pussy searching for the entrance to her womb.

Toni's eyes widened as she felt this cum pouring into her. "Fill me ... fill me ... fill me," she chanted in unison with the sensation of his cum splattering against the walls of her pussy.

Jason remained buried deep inside of her until the last strand of his seed spewed from the tip of his cock. It was only then that he released the hold around her back and let her lay down on the desk top.

Gently, she pulled his head down between her breasts and stroked his hair while they rested. 

After a few moments, he looked up and saw her crying softly. "Are you ok?" he asked quietly. "I didn't hurt you did I?"

Holding his head in her hands she replied, "No darling, you didn't hurt me. You made me feel better than I have in a long time. That's why I'm crying. I'm happy."

He leaned forward and kissed her tenderly. He also realized that his cock, still buried deep inside of her was hardening again.

She felt it, too and snickered, "I'd ask if you had a baseball bat in your pants but since you're not wearing any I guess this is for me," as she began to move her hips.

As he stood next to the desk, he took her legs and laid them against his shoulders as he began to slide his cock in and out of her wet, pussy. "Feels so good," she murmured. "I had no idea how good this would feel. I've missed having a man in my life and now I have the one I want for the rest of my life."

Stunned, he stopped. "Are you saying ...?"

"Shhhhhh, later. Right now I want to feel your cock sliding in and out of me."

Stopping, he looked down at her. "Do you want me to try another condom?"

"Fuck that," she retorted jokingly. "Your father used to say 'In for a dime, in for a dollar.' Well, from the feel of the load already inside of me I think I've gotten far more than a dime's worth so why stop at that? I want to feel you making me cum until our juices run out of me like a faucet. I want you to fuck me like some common slut and breed me like some farm animal."

Grabbing her by the hips he pushed into her until he pressed against her cervix once again. "How about a thoroughbred filly? A one-in-a-million that absolutely nothing can be compared with?"

As she sighed from the feel of his cock inside of her, she moaned, "Flattery like that will get you anything."

"Good," he replied as he withdrew entirely. "Turn around and bend over."

She knew what he wanted and inwardly knew that she wanted it too. She slid from the desk, turned around, and wiggled her ass at him. "Come on, stud. Take me."

Stepping up behind her, he stroked his cock up and down the furrow of her ass before lowering it and plunging into of her, driving it to the very depths of her pussy.

"Ohhhhhhh," she screamed as she clenched the edge of the table. "Feels so good. Pound me. Fuck me. Fill me again."

He reached under her and cupped her dangling tits, pinching and teasing the nipples as he drove his cock in and out of her pussy.

Twisting her head around to look over her shoulder, she whispered, "Kiss me," and he did. At the same time, she reached behind her and grabbed his ass, using it to pull herself against him, driving his cock deep into her while matching him stroke-for-stroke. The mixed sensation of pleasure/pain caused when he slammed against her cervix was something new to her but something she realized she would want from now on. 

"So tight," he hissed as she felt her pussy tightening around his cock. "Gonna cum soon. Gonna fill your pussy with my cum. Gonna breed you and knock you up. Gonna give you my baby," then correcting himself, he leaned over and whispered in her ear, "OUR baby."

"Our baby ... our baby ... ohmigod ... yes ... cum in me. Fill my cunt with your cum. Now baby, fill your step-mommy's cunt with your cum. NNNNNOOWWWWWWWWWWW," she shrieked as she felt her third mid-blowing orgasm overwhelm her, sending her off into an orgasmic fog. She was only vaguely aware of Jason murmuring to her.

Triggered by her lewd comments, Jason felt his balls tighten and send another load of cum rocketing up his cock. "I'm getting close again, baby. Gonna fill you up. Gonna fill your cunt with my cum just like the slut you are."

"Do it ... do it ... fill me ... fill me," she sighed too exhausted to do more.

Standing up and grabbing her by the hips, he plowed into her, burying himself against the entrance to her womb each time. On his final thrust, he felt his cum boiling over and exploding once again inside of her. "AAAAAAAEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIII," he screamed as rope after rope of his cum exited his body and entered hers. Looking up, he noticed a blinking red light in the control room as a purple haze overwhelmed him and he gently collapsed against Toni's back.

How long they were like that neither was certain. It was only the banging on the outer door of the station that brought them back to reality. 

Pulling from Toni, Jason's flaccid cock slapped against his leg before he turned and grabbed their clothes from the floor. Neither said a word as they dressed, the banging on the door becoming louder and more incessant.

Jason headed into the control room and quickly checked the blinking red light he had seen earlier. As he suspected, it was the light for the master recording disc. His father had insisted that every broadcast be recorded so he had flipped it on when he had started Toni's show. Secretly, he took the disc off and slid it in his jacket pocket. Now he and Toni could listen to themselves anytime they wanted.

At the same time, Toni answered the door. Jim pushed his way past her and immediately began yelling.

"Where are they? I heard you talking to them on the radio and I know it couldn't have been the taped interview since ...,"

"Yes, since what, Jim?" she asked.

"Ummmm, that doesn't matter." He tried to change the subject. "This place smells like a fucking whore house."

Toni smiled inwardly. It did. It smelled of sex ... hot, lustful, loving, sex. "I don't smell anything," she lied.

"Bullshit. Now where are they?"

Suddenly pretending to understand, Toni replied, "Ohhhh, you mean Sarah and Sam?"

"You know as well as I do that those aren't their real names so where are they?" he snarled.

Just then Jason entered the room bumping against Jim, "So sorry."

"Fuck you, punk. I was talking to your step-mom so just keep your fucking mouth shut."

Anger flared but Jason kept himself in check. "I said 'I'm sorry' and I also wanted to show you this," he said as he removed the disc from his jacket pocket.

"What that fuck is that?"

"It's a recording of everything that has gone on in the station for the last 72 hours. My dad had cameras installed last year after some equipment disappeared. You remember that, don't you? And how it all came back as soon as we put the word out that it was missing."

"Gimme that," he snarled as he reached for the disc.

Pulling it away quickly, Jason replied. "I don't think so. You see I had a chance to preview it during Toni's interview tonight and I'm sure the authorities would be very interested to see you stealing the original disc. So, I'll give you a choice. You can apologize to my step-mom and get out of here ... PERMANTENTLY or I call the cops. You decide."

Hesitating, Jim glared at them and tried to decide if he could overpower Jason and take the disc. Realizing he probably couldn't he muttered, "Sorry" before spinning on his heels and leaving.

Toni sighed. "I didn't know you're dad put in a surveillance system."

"He didn't. This is the master copy of tonight's program ... including you and I after we went off the air."

Instantly, she blushed and a shiver coursed through her.

Jason moved closer, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her close as she tilted her head up towards him. Tenderly, they kissed.

"You know Jim was right about one thing."

"Ya, what's that?"

"The station does smell like sex," she giggled. "And I know why."

Curious as to her answer, he looked down at her. "And exactly why is that?"

Taking his hand, she pulled up her dress and slid it between her legs. Her thighs were soaked with their juices that had leaked from her pussy, "Because you fulfilled one of my fantasizes tonight and filled my pussy with more cum then it has ever had in it before."

The aroma triggered desires deep inside of him as he leaned over and whispered. "We can always go home and see what other fantasizes can be fulfilled yet tonight."

"Ya, right," she said doubtfully as she reached for the front of his pants. "Ohhhhhh," she sighed as she felt his growing erection. "Maybe you're right but I think from now on we'll do this 'off the air'."

Scooping her up in his arms, they were startled as a large ball of their combined juices fell to the floor with a loud 'plop.' "Maybe, maybe not. We'll just have to wait and see what the listener's want," he joked.

Whether from what happened at the station or later on at home they were never sure but nine-months and eleven-days later, Toni gave birth to a little boy. They named him Kevin after his great-grandfather, the founder of the station.



On The Attraction To Amputees



To many it sounds weird enough to wonder if I tick right. But I’m not crazy, nor incurably deviant. Yet, every time I see a woman with one leg, I’m captured by a gush of strange excitement. The motion of a body with a leg missing is quite simply a mesmerizing sight for me. So much, that I even find it attractive to see a man with one leg, even when I consider myself 100% straight, as far as that is possible. This erotic fascination is at the same time a source of guilt feelings. Knowing how much my pleasure derives from something that can be traumatic, painful, emotionally bruising or at the least physically uncomfortable for the person enjoyed, presents you with an intriguing dilemma that is actually pretty rare in the world of less mainstream attractions. A look into the mind of an admirer, because that’s how “we” are commonly called.

Gay boys often know at very early age that they are different. It may take some time for it to come out, but many homosexual men report awareness of it as far back as the age of five. For me, it was no different with respect to my fascination for the one legged. My oldest recollections date back to when I was four, and my parents have often mentioned me being overly curious to look under the skirts of an aunt who had only one leg, at age two. They have always regarded it the normal curiosity of a toddler, but in retrospect I think my attraction for the amputated body may have triggered then. It has never faded, which seems consistent with theories in sexual psychology saying that once imprinted, “deviant” sexual attractions are hard to get rid of.

The latter is not to say I consider myself a helpless product of coincidental imprinting who would therefore have no responsibility for his unusual preference. I’m a grown up man with a mind of his own, and I should use it respectfully to not let a formed preference become an obsession. After all there are many - mostly men - whose particular enjoyment of this liking borders on the unhealthy, and it has given admirers a dubious reputation, quite often rightly so.

Essentially the controversial nature of this attraction appears to be in its unusual requirement: in order to be enjoyed, there is a need for someone who actually lost a limb. With the possible exception of the attraction to otherwise disabled, this makes the admirer a rare breed of someone who enjoys a sexual fascination that cannot be experienced by mere mutual consent only. While even the more off-mainstream fetishes can be practiced with any partner consenting, this fascination actually requires a person with very specific bodily features. Features furthermore that appear to contrast quite sharply with the common culture of bodily perfection so dominant within modern western society.

Admirers often compare their fascination with more common likings such as red hair, blue eyes, large breasts or long legs. But these are all features that are - although not considered attractive by everyone - never controversial. Every “healthy mind” understands a liking for large breasts, even when some may find it objectifying. A liking for an amputated leg (or arm, or any combination of) is kinky, strange, unnatural, weird, sometimes even considered repulsive: how can you! And while it is certainly unusual, I would like to defend the position that this doesn’t make it repulsive or wrong. My fascination for the one legged appears to be as inerasable as another person’s heterosexuality, which makes it pretty hard to expect of me to simply “get rid of it”. Apart from that being hard to pull off, I’m not so sure if I’d actually want to get rid of it. My erotic enjoyment of the one legged is one of the purest feelings I am aware of, and as long it is enjoyed with the proper respect - which goes for every attraction - I really see no harm in it. Let me state quite clearly: I would never wish anyone to become an amputee. At the same time I find myself being happy with an existing amputation, however. This is of course a fruitful source of guilt feelings. Enjoying something that the person enjoyed may find painful, embarrassing or traumatic is a very controversial aspect that can make it hard to genuinely enjoy feelings of fascination and attraction. 

Then there is the aspect of scarcity: while it is hard enough already to find a well matching partner without additional requirements, the relative scarcity of amputees makes it almost impossible to find a matching partner also matching the admirer’s specific bodily preferences. And while the admirer, in his endless quest for perfection, tends to be focused on the bodily aspect, the amputee at stake will be a woman who refuses - rightly so - to be considered a “life support system for her stump” (as an amputee once put it sharply) and who generally prefers a partner who is able to overlook her disability rather than be actively focused on it. That makes the admirer’s position almost dilemmatic: in order to naturally enjoy his attraction, he is asked to ignore it. 

This is not to say there is no way out of this. There are cases of happy relationships between amputees and admirers. But there are also many more cases of the attraction to the amputated being largely insufficient to sustain a fruitful relationship, which will hardly come as a surprise. 

Being able to enjoy this fascination outside a relationship is maybe even rarer. There is an amputee escort girl known in Perth, Australia and Berlin used to have a one legged prostitute; she died years ago though. On the “free market” matters seem just as problematic. Even when the inclination among amputees to engage in blind dates and one night stands would be disproportionately high - and the contrary seems more likely - chances for the admirer to ever run into his lucky date are minute indeed. What a shame, and furthermore I think it is an important factor in many fascinations moving towards obsession. It’s close to impossible to fulfill the admirer’s dream, which makes it prone to frustration, leaving only the strongest of minds able to endure their celibate and retain a state of healthy enjoyment nonetheless.

That leaves the Internet, and it should be no surprise that this medium has produced an impressive number of sites devoted to amputees. Not all excelling in good taste, many violating copyrights or the privacy of amputees secretly photographed on the streets, but also some interestingly run by women who are amputees themselves. Having come to know of the existence of admirers, a few amputees did not avoid the discussion, leading to some real understanding, although its dissemination so far seems limited to the specific internet community as such. 

And it’s not only understanding that has arisen. The unfulfilled admirer’s dream is also becoming a market opportunity. As more and more sites are offering their picture and video material on pay-sites, the admirer’s rare chances to come into some sort of contact with amputees do now come at a price too. A German site has just started to invite attractive amputees to apply for a specialized escort service. So, while the supply side slowly appears to meet the demands, the regular mechanisms of capitalist economy also slip in. Market mechanisms appear to pull off what alleged cultural freedoms could not: slowly but steadily, the reluctant monoped discovers she’s scarce, that money can be made out of something that used to mainly cause discomfort. It’s their good right of course, even when it leaves you wonder a little. Not everywhere though; an American amputee recently started a dating service for disabled people that is free of charge. Not surprisingly, the number of admirers in demand vastly exceeds the supply of amputees.

Interestingly, the two parties involved may actually share a common interest. While amputees often struggle to not be considered mentally disabled simply because they are short of a limb, the admirer is the one minority in society not considering an amputation anything negative. While the amputee is embarrassed to go out and be seen as amputee, the admirer is the sole group actually enjoying that. The balance is obviously dangerous, but that doesn’t deny the common interest.

So, could the admirer offer the amputee a helping hand in reestablishing a positive self esteem? I think he could, provided he doesn’t overdo it. Could the amputee offer the admirer a helping hand in getting his attraction accepted? I think she/he could: by admitting being flattered by those who enjoy it the good way. Mutual handshaking, aimed at emancipation and societal acceptance of both. Politically, there seems to be more rationality than anywhere in this issue.

So, do times seem hopeful? And for whom? Like so often, changing attitudes are the structure on which natural enjoyment of feelings can flourish. No one should be denied the right to sexual pleasure, irrespective of number of limbs, and irrespective of how many you prefer the other to possess. The amputee has a right to be desired, not only as a justification of my or anyone else’s particular feelings, but principally as a result of a culture open mindedly refusing to see a disability as equal to lack of attractiveness. 

I love the beauty of a female body with large breasts. It makes me weak with excitement to enjoy the thrill of a full bosom. I feel a similar thing for a missing leg; neither the intensity nor the genuineness of these feelings really differ. The only difference is in the way society, in how our culture, in how a mainstream definition of beauty and normality perceives them. That makes the difference between enjoyment and guilt, as well as the difference between embarrassment and natural ease to show yourself the way you are a political one. Them being political, interestingly, also means they can change, be changed, and thus can be overcome.

And where does this bring us sexually? Like the irregular skin, the flabby abs and the sagging breasts, the scarred stump needs to be sexualized. There is nothing wrong with physical attraction; there is something wrong with what is considered attractive. With Pamela Anderson boobs the frame of reference, we cruise quietly towards loads of unhappy women, men with horridly wrong expectations and a booming market for therapists and silicone implant producers. With openly confessing there are more definitions of attractiveness and attraction we liberate ourselves and allow more people to feel at ease. In that respect, confessing being fascinated by the beauty of the one legged widens the definition of attractiveness in a positive way. So, I’m not weird; I merely enjoy something less common. I’m happy to do so and even when I don’t consider them important for my enjoyment, I think I have good reasons to do so. So, show ‘em ladies, your sexy stumps. There are men out there who will love you for it.

And it’s about time they come out with it.



On The Auction Block



It was a typical Saturday night for Jason Anderson. He was on his way home from yet another keg party; alone as usual. The only difference tonight was that it was Halloween and instead of his typical t-shirt and jeans, Jason was dressed in a tight black shirt and pants with a white skeleton emblazoned on the front. Jason chose a lightweight costume knowing how warm it was expected to be. The thin material hugged his athletic frame, showing off not only his muscles but also his package, a fact that he hoped to use to his advantage.

Jason had gone to the party hoping to hook up with his longtime crush, Erica. Although she was at the party, and looked stunning in a slutty nurse costume, she was much more interested in Derek, the quarterback of their school's football team. 

Jason is an awkward eighteen year old high school senior who, though handsome with a good body, had never been very comfortable or successful with the opposite sex. He dated a few girls but never made it past first base and had hoped that Erica would be the one to help him out of his rut. 

While driving home, Jason called his friend Scott to see when he finished his shift at the hotel.

"What's up?"

"Still working. I'm on the late shift tonight. How was the party?"

"A total bust."

"That sucks. You should swing by the hotel. There is a crazy party going on. You should see the outfits that these women are wearing."

Jason thought it over for a few moments before responding. Scott had been his best friend since grade school and always looked out for him. The past few times that Scott tipped him off to a party at the hotel had proven to be worthwhile so he decided to head over and indulge in some free drinks instead of going straight home.

"Alright, I'll be over in a few."

"Come in the back door, just like last time. I'll be there."

"Cool, see you in a bit."

Jason hung up and took a quick right turn, changing course for the hotel. 

Scott worked in the catering group of the biggest hotel in town. During the spring and summer months the massive hotel was filled with sun worshipers and beach goers, but during the fall and winter it mostly as a convention center. Large groups often booked the banquet hall for various parties, attracted by the cheap off-season rates.

Jason pulled his beat-up Jeep into the employee parking lot and parked in the far corner. He weaved through the parked cars as he made his way to the service door that his friend left propped open for him. Nearing the door he could make out the silhouette of Scott in the shadows of the building, smoking a cigarette while waiting for his friend.

"Hurry up would you. I've got to get back on shift, we are getting slammed in the kitchen tonight." Scott called out to him.

Jason picked up his pace and without skipping a beat followed his friend into the bustling kitchen.

"Sorry, I got here as quickly as I could."

"No problem. I'll get you in and catch up with you later when my shift is over."

Scott led his friend through the kitchen and past the staging area.

"Hey, what's all this?" Jason asked, pausing in front of a pile of boxes.

"That stuff is leftover from the casino room that they set up earlier. I think it was some sort of charity thing.

Jason's hand slipped into the open top of one of the boxes and pulled out a fistful of poker chips. His friend snapped him out of it as he stared at the plastic coins.

"Come on, I don't want to be late for my shift again."

"Ok, let's go." Jason said and pushed the chips into his pocket hoping that he might be able to play a little poker at the party.

"Here, put this on. I'll catch up to you later. Have fun in there." Scott handed him a black mask and then hurried back to the kitchen.

Jason waved back at his friend and pushed through the swinging door into the large ball room. As he strode through the door he felt someone grab his arm and pull him aside.

"Not so fast!" A voice snapped at him from behind.

Jason couldn't believe that he was busted already.

"Everybody has to wear their mask. Let me help you with that." He was relieved when the mask was snatched from his hands and reappeared in front of his face. A pair of hands tugged at the mask from behind before finally releasing him.

"There you go. That mask won't be going anywhere now." The voice had acquired an assertive tone.

Jason surveyed the room and saw that everyone was wearing an identical mask. It was a black half mask that covered the top part of your face, effectively obscuring the wearer's identity. The mask was made of thick fabric with thin firm ribs running through it that caused it to form to the curves of the wearers face when tied tightly, as his was. The mask covered the wearer's cheeks, eyes and forehead, while leaving their nose and mouth exposed. He saw that the back of everyone's head was adorned with a black silk ribbon tied into neat bows and assumed that his was no different.

Looking over his shoulder to see who had grabbed him, he caught a glimpse of a lanky blonde from behind as she passed through the door into the kitchen.

Jason headed straight to the bar, hoping to get as many free beers as he could before his friend's shift was over. The room buzzed with energy as he made his way through the crowd. The crowd appeared to be older, Jason's initial reaction was that they were his parent's age, and everyone was wearing all of the standard Halloween costumes. The men wore the standard togas, police uniforms, and vampire get-ups. The women were dressed in every conceivable costume imaginable but they all had one thing in common. Despite their age, the women all wore costumes that left little to the imagination. 

Jason eyed more than one slutty nurse that put his Erica to shame. One in particular caught his attention. She was a tall blonde with a huge chest. Her costume was a white one piece nurse's outfit. The bottom half was a very short skirt and the top half was a form fitting short sleeve collared top. Running the length of her torso was a zipper that was pulled down enough to give anyone interested a clear view of her breasts encased in a thin red lace bra. Her legs were covered by a pair of red thigh high stockings held up by a red lace garter belt that matched her bra. He knew that she was wearing a garter belt because her skirt ended several inches above the tops of her stockings. Between the red nylon and white skirt, Jason's eyes dances across the soft milky flesh of her thighs which was accented by her red lace garter strap.

Jason's attention was focused on the blonde nurse while he took his first swig of his beer. Leaning against the bar, Jason surveyed the rest of the room. At the opposite end of the room was a large stage, empty but for a tall man in a tuxedo and a woman walking out from behind the curtain. He watched as she strode across the long stage and stopped next to the gentleman.

"Ladies and gentlemen, do I have a treat for you! Our next lovely offering of the night goes by the name Rebecca, and doesn't she look stunning?"

The already raucous room erupted with hoots and hollers as the woman on the stage bowed. Jason's mouth dropped open as he finally took time to notice her outfit. Tall with a delicate frame, she wore what appeared to be a fairy costume. In reality it was little more than a black satin leotard with black ruffles over each of her breasts and an unbelievably short ruffled skirt around her waist.

He watched her on stage, first bowing and then doing a curtsy for the crowd. Jason couldn't believe what he was seeing. As she knelt down to curtsy, she took the hem of her skirt in her hands and lifted it up just enough to give the crowd a brief glimpse of the fabric framed between her milky white thighs. Even though her costume revealed nothing more than a bathing suit would, the fact that she was so proudly displaying herself on stage added to the sexiness of it.

"Would you get a load of that one!" A hand slapped him on the shoulder as the man next to him at the bar spoke.

"Wow!" Is all he managed to say in response.

"You're telling me."

Jason finished off his beer as fast as he could and ordered himself another before pushing his way through the crowd for a better vantage point. He made his way through the sea of short skirts and long legs until planting himself yards from the stage. He watched as the woman continued to flaunt her body. She wasn't stripping or showing off anything that her skimpy costume didn't already reveal but she still managed to get the crowd excited by bending, stretching, and doing a sexy little dance. 

The man on stage was speaking into a microphone, but Jason's attention was focused on the woman. He stared openly at her long bare legs and dreamt of burying his face underneath her skirt. He didn't care that she appeared to be his mom's age; he wanted to spread her legs and fuck her. Jason had never really spent much time fantasizing about older women, he had plenty of options her his age, but seeing so many older women in sexy outfits was having the expected effect on him. He felt his penis slowly coming to life as he watched the woman on stage. His manhood swelled against the thin tight fabric of his costume.

Suddenly, the crowd erupted again and she walked towards the stairs in the middle of the stage. A man from the crowd met her and handed something to the man on stage before taking her hand and escorting her through the crowd.

Jason watched the couple disappear into the crowd, stopping when his eyes found something almost familiar. The sight before him was familiar in that he saw a man wearing the same costume that he saw his father wearing earlier in the night, but something else was unfamiliar; the person on his arm. The man wore green lederhosen and a white button down shirt, and from the details Jason was certain that it was his father. However, the person on his arm was clearly not his mother. She was dressed as a french maid, only barely covered in black satin trimmed with white lace. Her neckline plunged between her ample breasts, offering a perfect view of her soft flesh. Her legs were covered by black fishnet stockings that ended in white lace trim, topped with a black satin bow, below her short skirt and her feet were encased in a pair of black high heels. 

What tipped of Jason that it wasn't his mother, aside from the fact that he knew she would never wear something that revealing, was her height and her hair. The woman next to his father had short blond hair and was shorter than him. His mother was about the same height as his father with thick brown hair. 

Normally, he wouldn't pay much attention to someone in a crowd next to his father, but he couldn't help notice that his father's arm was around her waist and they were standing much closer than two friends or strangers would normally stand.

Jason turned back to the stage as another woman dressed in a skimpy costume walked down the stairs and into the arms of a waiting gentleman. 

"Too rich for my blood, my last few hands wiped me out."

Jason turned to the man next to him who made the comment.

"How did you make out?"

Jason saw the man's outreached hand with a few ten dollar poker chips and it finally clicked in his head what the guy was asking him.

"Let me see." He mumbled while fishing his chips out from his pocket.

"Wow, you did great in there. Are those all fifty dollar chips?" The man said incredulously.

"I guess so. It must be my lucky night."

Jason's head turned back to the stage when the announcer introduced the next woman. A stunning creature emerged from behind the curtain. The whole room quieted down while he spoke.

"And our last beauty for the night is Rachel. Say something for the crowd Rachel."

He moved the mic in front of her just long enough for her to get out two words.

"Hi boys." She whispered in a deep sultry voice. 

"Rachel is a sexy little beer maid tonight and is ready to serve your every need, so let's get the bidding started. Remember, this is our last lady of the night, so let's see those big money bids."

Jason's brain was working a mile a minute as his eyes devoured the sight before him. His gaze started low and slowly moved up her legs. The only thing that Rachel wore on the bottom half of her body was a pair of five inch black patent leather heels. Her long lean legs were bare from her ankles all the way up until they disappeared beneath her skirt. The skirt ended a good ten inches above her knees, showing off her tanned thighs. The black skirt was trimmed with white lace and was pushed out from her body by a layer of white crinoline. Across the center of the skirt was a small blue satin apron. 

Her top was covered in a matching blue satin bustier that ended right below her breasts, pushing them up from the bottom so that they were proudly on display. Her breasts were covered, if you can call it that, by a thin white ruffled shirt with a straight neckline. While the outfit didn't offer much cleavage, it was necessary to provide some support for her breasts because she wasn't wearing a bra. From behind her mask flowed a wild tangle of dark hair that tumbled over her shoulders.

After taking in the sight on stage, Jason shot a glance over at his father only to find the one man in the room not drooling over the woman on stage. "Strange," He thought to himself.

"And why don't you let the eager bidders get a taste of what they're bidding on tonight Rachel."

Jason couldn't take his eyes off the stage. Rachel turned her back to the crowd and spread her legs apart before bending over. As she lowered her torso, the skirt rose up over her smooth thighs eventually revealing her tight round ass.

She lifted up her skirt to make sure that everyone had a good view.

As his thoughts bounced around his head his eyes traced the line of blue satin that bisected her rear end. She wore a silk thong that matched the blue satin of the rest of her outfit. It cut across the delicate white globes of her ass and disappeared again between her legs. From his position, Jason could make out the mound of her pussy encased in the blue satin.

"And now, the bidding. Let's start our eager bar maid out at fifty dollars."

Jason stood frozen while the announcer quickly shouted out numbers as the price climbed. His eyes fell down to his hand and he counted out his chips. The bidding was racing up in twenty five dollar increments and had reached three hundred dollars. The announcer repeated the highest bid again, searching for another bidder. Knowing that this would be his last chance, Jason shot his hand up and shouted, "Six hundred!"

The crowd responded to the new twist and the woman on stage walked over towards him with a smile stretched across her face. He stared up at her, almost able to see all the way up her skirt.

"And that's it for this one folks. For six hundred dollars, she's all yours."

In a daze, Jason walked over to the stairs, as he had seen the other do before him, and handed his chips to the announcer while the woman walked towards him. She put her hand in his and waited for him to move. After an instant that felt like a lifetime he led her through the crowd. Jason heard a chorus of congratulatory cheers as he led his prize to the back of the room.

"I don't know about you, but I could use a drink." Her voice drifted over his shoulder. 

Jason didn't waste any time and led her to the bar. He knew that this was a charity event, but he still didn't fully understand the consequences of his bidding.

Getting the attention of the bartender, she placed the order for them. "Four shots of tequila."

With the shots poured in front of them, she moved next to Jason and faced him. With her first shot in her hand she signaled for him to take one and they threw them back together. Still holding his empty glass in his hand, Jason took in the sight before him. Even with the mask on, Rachel was one of the most beautiful women that he had ever seen. Through her thin white blouse, Jason could see the dark outline of her areolas and her hard nipples straining against the fabric.

"Now let me get a better look at the highest bidder." He tried to make out her voice, which was already a little woozy from drinking, but he couldn't hear it well over the music.

Jason didn't move as she put her hands on his chest and rubbed him. Moments later, she had pulled back up shirt and her fingernails were scraping against his bare flesh. 

"Such a nice hard chest." She cooed.

Jason's head fell back as the older woman teased him, alternating between her cold hard nails and her warm soft fingertips. Her hands withdrew from his shirt and then one of them cupped his cock through his tights. She pushed her body into his while rubbing his growing cock. His penis eagerly sprang to life and filled her hand as she massaged him.

"Oh my, it looks like you're not the only lucky one tonight."

It started to dawn on him that he was actually going to get laid. It didn't even bother him that he had apparently bought a prostitute, after all what other woman would throw herself at him like that.

"Let's get out of here." She whispered into his ear while holding up the other shot for him. He took the glass from her while she grabbed the remaining shot glass. They did their shots with her hand still rubbing his cock through the thin material. After slamming their glasses down, Rachel led him through the crowd. Jason watched, dumfounded, as the gorgeous older woman's body swayed with each step, her skirt rocking back and forth across her thighs. Before he knew it, she had led him into the elevator.

Rachel pressed the button for the thirty sixth floor and turned back to guy who had bought her for the night. 

She stepped forward, pushing him against the back wall of the elevator. Rachel wasted no time and pressed her lips against his. Any shred of doubt as to what her intentions were quickly faded away as she kissed him. Jason closed his eyes as her hands resumed their exploration of his chest while her lips mashed against his. Jason instinctively grabbed hold of the body in front of him. His hands pressed against the sides of her bustier, he could feel the warmth of her body flowing through the thin satin.

Her hands retreated long enough for her to untie her mask. Without breaking their kiss she pulled it off, the rush of fabric against his face caused his eyes to open, sending a wave of terror through his body. Jason's heart sank in his chest when he realized that he was staring right into his mother's eyes. Even worse, his hands were touching her body and they were kissing. 

Jason felt foolish that he didn't realize it earlier. He had already seen his father in the crowd, and he knew that Rachel was his mother's middle name. He tried to counter the guilt and shame that he felt by convincing himself that he could never have guessed that his very own mother would dress like that and sell herself to the highest bidder.

Jason gasped into his mother's mouth as they kissed, unable to control his shock. She looked up at him and broke their kiss.

"You seem surprised."

Jason nodded weakly.

"Do you know me?" She continued.

Unable to speak Jason nodded again.

"Do I know you?"

His head kept bobbing up and down as she spoke.

"Well, let's see who the lucky guy is..." Her voice trailed off and before he had a chance to react her hands reached behind his head and tugged on the ribbon holding his mask up. Jason's head swooned as she pulled harder. His knees almost buckled as he waited for the inevitable. He didn't want to think about what was about to happen when she realized that she was making out with her son.

The next few moments flew by in a blur for him as he saw his mother step back away from him. He knew that his mask was going to fall from his face any moment but he couldn't bear to face the consequences.