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Milk

By: ep703



HU

or

How I Became a Farmer.

Part 1:

Writing and posting stories on Literotica can be both challenging and rewarding at the same time. As a writer it allows me to develop my writing skills, and on occasion I am offered the opportunity to learn something new.

Within a few days of posting a new story I received several messages from people who either loved or hated the story. I do listen to criticism, especially if it is about how I put a story together, or grammar. I feel that a reader who sends me a valid criticism is helping me to become a better writer. But I'm not writing this to talk about my critics. I'm writing about one of the people who took the time to write to me and tell me how my story touched her.

This is where the story begins:

Her name is Diana, and to my good fortune she lived less than thirty miles from me. Diana is a single woman, reader and author on Literotica. We started trading e-mails and eventually talking on the phone about several of my stories. During one of our many conversations she told me about her attraction to the idea of lactation. She was very drawn to the idea of her breasts producing milk. She also wanted to experience an erotic doctor examination. She asked me if I were interested in helping her to fulfill her desire to begin lactating again

This whole concept intrigued me greatly. So much so, that I did some research on the web about this subject. Encouraged by my research and by Diana's enthusiasm I built a table to perform examinations on her. The table is fifty inches long and twenty four inches wide. The bottom half of the table is split down the middle and is hinged to enable it to open into a "Y" shape.

There are restraints at the end and the middle of each side of the "Y" to restrain her ankles when her legs are either the fully extended or with her knees bent for vaginal exams. There are also restraints along the upper half of the table placed to properly restrain her upper body and torso when needed. As an after thought I added an oval hole in the upper part of the table. This allows a woman's breasts (Udders) to hang down below the table to facilitate the milking process. I made a solid cover for the hole which can be put in place when performing exams, and not milking a woman.

My research found several farmers of these human cows who were successfully adapting milking machines designed for goats for use in milking their women. They were installing adjustable vacuum regulators in order to set just the right amount of vacuum for each individual human cow. I acquired the milking machine used, from an on line auction and made some necessary modifications before installing it on a shelf under the exam table. Lastly, I added a set of wheels to the table to make it easier to move.

Our first secession with the table was fairly successful. Diana, in spite of her great enthusiasm was pretty nervous in the beginning. I instructed her to disrobe completely and lay on the table while I prepared my exam instruments. I then bound her ankles at the midpoint of each table leg to keep her knees bent. I bound her upper body and wrists to the table to effectively render her helpless and immobile. Next I opened the split sections of the table as far as they could and locked them into position. This spread Diana's legs wide open, greatly exposing her vaginal area to me.

I pulled a latex glove onto each hand, letting go of each one with a loud snap to heighten her level of anticipation. I used my fingers to explore her pussy and to give her time to get well lubricated. When she was ready I reached for my speculum and showed it to her.

"Do you know what this is?" I asked.

She nodded her head, " yes," She said.

"Are you ready?" I asked.

"Yes," she said with quickened breath.

I inserted the tool into her pussy and held it there for a moment to give her time to adapt to it's feel. I looked at her and she nodded yes once again so I proceeded to use the tool to open her up in increments, taking care not to hurt her.

Note: It is my commitment that when a sub is under my control it is my responsibility to see to her safety and well being.

I opened her up slowly. The diameter of her opening gradually increased until it reached almost two inches, then I locked the tool in this position. Next I picked up a small flashlight and turned it on. 

Prior to her examination I had instructed Diana to clean her pussy throughly before coming to see me. My initial look inside confirmed that she had done as I had asked.

"You did a good job in cleaning yourself," I told her.

Diana smiled at this. She seemed very eager to please me.

I left the tool inserted in her and proceeded to examine the rest of her body. Her belly was not flat and hard like a nineteen year old was, but I would not expect that of a forty one year old woman who has given birth to two kids. Still she was not bad to look at. Her breasts were large and full. Her forty inch D cup breasts hung down a bit from their weight but remained very full.

"I nursed both my kids for their first two years with these," She proudly told me, "I want to make milk again," She said.

"There's a good chance that you will have milk in them again," I told her, "From now on I want you to refer to them as your udders. I told her.

She smiled brightly at what I told her.

I took each of her breasts one at a time and examined them closely. Her nipples stood erect as I rolled them lightly between my thumb and index finger, and then for a long moment I squeezed them harder. Diana moaned a little louder this time.

Diana's excitement level increased greatly as I individually lifted each of her breasts in one hand and examined it with my free hand.

"They appear to be fit for milk production," I told her, after examining both breasts. I rested my hand lightly on her belly, then bent down and put my mouth close to her ear.

"Are you ready to begin your treatment?" I asked her softly.

"Yes," She said, breathing heavier.

"Very well. In order for this treatment to be successful, you must surrender all control to me. Do you understand?"

I told her this days before when we were discussing her treatments, but I wanted to hear her tell me again that she was willing to surrender complete control to me.

"I do. I give myself to you," She said, her voice filled with anticipation.

"Do you remember what I told you about the possible side effect of your treatments?" I asked.

"Yes," She replied.

"Tell me. Say it to me out loud so I know that you know the risks and you accept them," I said to her.

"I, uh... I know that I can become pregnant from the treatments. I know this and I hope that I do. I want a baby to feed my milk to," She said.

I kissed her lightly on the cheek then stood up, "Good, then lets begin."

I removed the speculum from her pussy and massaged her clit for a moment. Her body arched against the restraints that bound her to the table. I eased back on the stimulation of her clit, not wanting her to climax too soon.

Next I unfastened her bindings and instructed her to climb off the table for a moment. She stood there naked, as I re-configured the table for her therapy. 

I removed the cover in the upper part of the table and instructed her to lay face down on the table with her breasts hanging down through the hole. Diana did as she was instructed quickly. It was obvious how much she wanted to receive the treatment.

I strapped her down to the table and then inspected her breasts that were now hanging down below the table. They were able to swing free enough to accommodate the milking process. I gave each of her udders a final examination and pinched her nipples one more time each.

I switched on the milking machine and attached a suction device to each of her breasts.

"This might feel a little uncomfortable at first, "I told her."

"I like the feeling," She replied.

Diana watched me with great interest as I checked the tubing leading to the collection jar. I didn't expect her to produce much, if anything on the first try, but with the regimen of herbal supplements that she has been taking to stimulate milk production anything was possible, so it was best to be prepared for anything.

"OK then," I told her, "Let's begin."

I walked around behind her and used my finger to check on how wet her pussy was. As I expected it was already very wet and very ready.

"Very nice," I remarked.

I unzipped my zipper and pulled out my cock. 

"How does the suction feel?" I asked.

"Perfect," She replied.

"Good," I said, as I adjusted the suction regulator for stronger suction.

I rubbed the head of my now hard cock against the opening of her pussy, getting it wet before entering her with it. As I pushed the head of my cock onto her opening Diana tensed for a moment, then relaxed as I slid my cock in to the hilt.

Diana let out a long moan of pleasure, "It's been a long time since I had a man make me feel like this."

I brought my hand down hard on her ass, leaving a red hand print of my hand on her ass. No more talking unless I instruct you to speak.

I pushed my cock deeper into her before pulling it almost all the way out and then back in again. I repeated this a few more times before settling into a steady rhythm of pumping my cock in and out of her. I was enjoying the sounds of her alternately moaning in pleasure and grunting as each thrust of my cock hit bottom inside of her.

"I knew you would enjoy this," I told her. "Sexual stimulation helps to kick start the process of milk production in a woman.

I pumped her for about forty minutes before my climax came. I forced my cock as deep into her as I could and let my cock pump a thick load of my seed deep into her waiting womb. The inrush of my seed into her womb triggered a huge orgasm in her. Diana's body shook as the hot wave of pleasure washed over her.

I waited until the last of my sperm was drained from my cock and into her pussy before pulling out. I walked around to the head of the table and stood next to her head, "Here, I have something for you."

Diana's face was flush from her orgasm. She smiled when she opened her eyes and saw my cock so close to her face.

"It's time for you to clean me up," I told her.

Diana opened her mouth and held it open as I slid my cock into it. 

"OK," I said, and she closed her mouth around it and began sucking hungrily.

I placed my hand on the back of her head and began fucking her mouth slowly at first, but building faster as I went.

She started to gag but I held my cock in her mouth, "Keep sucking," I told her.

Diana kept sucking until I eventually pulled out of her mouth and walked around to the foot of the table and positioned myself in front of her wet pussy.

"It looks like you could use a second dose, " I told her.

I pushed my cock into her and began fucking her dripping hole. In less than a minute her body shook with another orgasm. I was not ready to cum, so I continued fucking her. I felt another orgasm building deep within her so I continued until I sensed she was nearing her climax then I slowed my pace and reduced the depth of my thrusts into her. I wanted to bring her to the edge, but at the same time not allow her to get any closer to the climax she sought. An orgasm is a tricky thing. It takes a lot of stimulation to get a woman to her trigger point, but only a small amount to push her over the edge and into a gratifying climax.

Diana struggled against her bindings trying to make my cock go deeper into her, but she was held firmly to the table, helpless to do anything toward capturing the feelings that she so desperately wanted at that moment.

"Don't despair my pet. You'll get what you seek in due time," I told her in a half whisper.

I kept teasing her with short strokes of my cock. 

"Tell me what you want," I told her

"Please master. Let me have it, please," She whined.

Her breathing grew heavier, "Please let me cum master."

I pulled my cock out of her completely. This caused her let out a loud gasp.

"No! Please," She cried.

I slid my cock back in a few inches, "Is that better?" I asked.

"Please let me cum master."

I slowly slid my cock deeper into her. Diana's body writhed as I pushed further. Her moans became more intense, and her body strained against her bindings as her climax grew closer. As my cock hit bottom inside her, Diana's body froze for a moment. Her orgasm had arrived. Her body relaxed as she free fell in to the abyss of her lustful cravings. After a few moments her body began bucking wildly against her restraints. She cried out but I couldn't understand any of her words. Watching her explode in such a manner caused me to explode inside of her, adding to what I had already contributed earlier.

This continued for several moments until her body ceased fighting against her restraints. Diana lay there exhausted after her orgasm, panting heavily, her body covered in small beads of perspiration. I pulled out of her and walked around to the head of the table. This time I did not need to speak when I brought my cock up to her lips. She opened her mouth and sucked me clean. She had learned that this was part of her duties when she received a treatment.

I pulled my cock out of her mouth, bent down and kissed her softly on her cheek.

"How did I do?" She asked, still exhausted.

I bent down and turned off the milking machine and disconnected the collection bottle. I raised it up to the light and examined it for a moment. There was small amount of milk in the bottle, less than a cup.

"Not bad. Not bad at all for a first time," I told her.

I held the bottle in front of her face to show her. Diana smiled

"I cant wait for my next treatment. I really cant wait at all," She said, with the look of a very content woman. 

Milk



"We're out of milk," Michelle stated calmly.

"You're joking," protested Suzy.

Michelle shook her head.

"But we can't be," Suzy almost wailed. "I checked last night before I went to bed. There was enough for coffee this morning."

"Coffee sounds fine," stated Andrea as she strolled into the little kitchen, wearing an attractive lacy nightie. "I could kill for coffee right now."

"Well, I hope you like it black," said Michelle with a smirk, knowing that the scatty brained Andrea absolutely detested black coffee.

"Why would I have it black?" asked Andrea. "You know I always have it with milk."

"We're out of milk," Michelle stated calmly.

"You're joking," protested Andrea.

Michelle shook her head, again.

"Well where did the milk go? I know we had some last night."

"Because you were drinking it, perchance?"

"Well, yes, but I only finished off the little bit that was in the open bottle. I didn't open a new bottle," protested Andrea.

"Possibly because we don't have a new bottle?" suggested Suzy.

The full horror of the situation was slowly dawning on Andrea. No milk meant no coffee. No coffee in the morning meant she was dead. Something else slowly registered from the way Michelle and Suzy were looking at her. No coffee in the morning meant that Suzy and Michelle might kill her.

"Um. No milk. What do we do?" Andrea asked, hoping for salvation.

"We'll borrow some," Michelle said smiling, reaching for a jug. "All we need is someone to go to the unit next door and ask if they have some to spare, because we're desperate. So kind of you to offer, Andrea."

"When did I offer to go," demanded Andrea indignantly.

"Last night when you were guzzling the last of the milk," came the reply. 

"But I've only got my nightie on. It'll take me ages to get dressed."

"We're not exactly dressed to go out either," pointed out Suzy. "Just sling on a dressing gown and go knock at the unit across the way. It's not as though we're asking you to go down the street."

Andrea looked at her two flatmates and conceded. Without coffee they'd nag her until she went so she might as well just go and get it over with. She fetched her dressing gown, grabbed the jug and flounced out of the room and across to the neighbouring unit.

Michelle and Suzy waited. Then they waited some more. They said some nasty things about Andrea and waited a bit longer. What the hell? How could even Andrea get lost between their unit and the one next to them?

"Maybe," suggested Suzy, "they had no milk and she's wandering from unit to unit, searching."

They were debating whether to go in search of her when Andrea finally returned, holding a jug half full of milk.

"About time," snapped Michelle, reaching for the milk.

"What happened?" asked Suzy. "You couldn't have got lost."

"Um, you wouldn't believe me if I told you," muttered Andrea. "Let me get my coffee."

In a very short space of time the three young women were all sitting down, drinking their morning coffee.

"Give, Andrea," urged Suzy. "What took so long?"

"Um, did you know that there's a new tenant in the unit across from us."

"No," said Suzy, with a "Yes" coming from Michelle.

"I saw him when he moved in," Michelle added. "Quite a nice looking guy."

"And you didn't think that I might be interested in the fact that I was going to be greeted by a man instead of old Mrs Carney?" asked Andrea. "You didn't think that my wearing a nightie and dressing gown, hair in a mess, and no makeup, might not be the way I would choose to meet a man?"

"Sorry," said Michelle. "Put it down to coffee deprivation. So, what happened? You obviously got the milk. Did you spend the rest of the time talking?"

"Nothing," said Andrea, looking fixedly at her coffee.

Michelle and Suzy looked at each other and then turned back to Andrea.

"Oh, come on, Andrea, it's us. You can tell us. We're your friends," coaxed Suzy.

Andrea looked at her two friends and sighed.

OK. It was like this. I waltzed over and knocked on the door and this guy answered, in his pyjamas still. At first I just stared at him. I mean, I'm expecting old Mrs Carney and there's this hunk answering the door. Unless she had unsuspected depths, I couldn't figure out why he was there. He had to speak to me twice before I could say anything.

I asked him if Mrs Carney was there. He told me no, she'd left, and that he was now the tenant. Was I after Mrs Carney in particular or could he help. I just held up the jug and said "Milk".

He looked at the empty jug and calmly told me that I'd already used it all. I said I knew that. I'd drunk it last night. Then I took a deep breath and managed to explain. I told him that we were out of milk and were desperate for some coffee and did he have any milk he could let us have?

He asked who 'we' were, and I said you two. He then said that he could understand the need for coffee in the morning and told me to come on through to the kitchen and he'd get me some. So I just trailed in after him.

He's got a nice place. He's done it up real well and he's got this huge plasma TV on the wall. Twice the size of ours.

Anyway I followed him into the kitchen and he took the jug off me and put it on the kitchen bench and he got some milk out of the fridge and half-filled the jug. He asked if it was enough and I said that's plenty and told him he was a lifesaver.

That's when things went a little odd. Before I could pick up the jug he said that I was just what he needed right then. He told me it must have been fate that sent me to his door right at that moment because I could now help him.

I said sure, I'd do what I could, and he smiled and said he was pleased to hear it. Then next thing I know he's reached out and undone the bow on my dressing gown belt. The belt dropped away and my dressing gown just naturally opened, showing off my nightie. 

I didn't even get a chance to blush before he'd reached down, grabbed the bottom hem of my nightie and lifted it right up. "Hold this," he told me, and like an idiot I did, showing everything I'd got. I mean, I hadn't even got around to putting on panties yet, and when he lifted my nightie like that. . .

"I," he told me, "am hornier that the trumpet section of an orchestra. You've arrived at just the right moment."

Then he pulled the tie on his pyjamas trousers and they dropped down. Trumpet hell. It looked as though he had a fucking bass trombone sticking out.

"Ah, bass trombone?" interjected Suzy.

"Longer and thicker than your normal trombone," muttered Andrea. "Now, as I was saying. . ."

Can you imagine how I felt. My mind still hadn't caught up with what was going on, but suddenly there I was, holding my nightie high so it won't get in his way and this guy and his cock are moving in on me. I tried backing away but there was a table behind me, and then he was right there next to me and his cock was already rubbing between my legs.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I squealed and he just smiled.

"Accepting your kind offer to do what you can," he said, and then I could feel his fingers fiddling between my legs, steering his cock into place.

It felt just as big creeping up inside me as it had looked sticking out in front of him, and it just seemed to keep on coming. How on earth he managed to put it all in is beyond me. My poor passage will take days to shrink back to a proper size.

I was trying to tell him I hadn't agreed to have sex with him but it's rather hard to get your thoughts together when you're being possessed by a maniac with a giant dick. 

You want to know why I was so long? It's because he was in no hurry to find relief. To start with he just stood there, holding me skewered. I kept waiting for him to get with the action but he didn't bloody move.

Finally I asked what the hell was he doing?

"I'm giving you a chance to adjust before I really get going, and I'm waiting for you to lift your nightie higher so I can touch your breasts. I like to play with breasts while I'm entertaining a lady."

Would you believe I found that I was still holding my nightie up? And when he said he was waiting for me to lift it I did. I just pulled it up until my boobs were on display, and he smiled and said, "Thanks". 

With that his hands landed on my breasts and we started bumping bellies. And, while I hate to have to admit it, it wasn't all one sided. He got to me, and I couldn't have not responded if I'd tried, and I didn't try. His hands were hard and hot on my breasts, his hot breath was on my neck as he kissed my face, and his cock was extra hard and hot inside me, turning my insides to mush. 

He didn't start with a slow build-up, either. Once he decided to get moving his cock just pounded me. It would come charging in and then back off, only to come charging in again. I was working my hips overtime trying to keep up with him. 

It didn't last all that long, I'm sure of it. He just kept hammering in and I was gasping and squealing and pushing to meet him while his hands continued to maul my breasts and I just seemed to be catching fire and everything all seemed to be happening so fast.

Then he was climaxing, still inside of me, and then I was climaxing and clinging to him. I'm surprised you didn't hear me scream.

By the time I gathered my wits together he'd lowered my nightie again and done up the belt on my dressing gown. He gave me the jug of milk and steered me towards the door. I saw that he was watching when I came in here.

Andrea finally stopped talking while Michelle and Suzy looked at her.

"Oh," said Andrea. "One last thing. He said any of us were welcome to come over and borrow milk anytime. He wouldn't mind."



Milk & Cookies



"You look beat. Are you sure you're OK to be here?" asked the night manager.

Veronica didn't even look up as she started logging on to her computer. "Oh, I'm fine, really. Just a little tired, that's all." When she saw the night manger giving her a concerned look, she added, "I'm just a little run down, I'll be OK."

"Well, it's your call, but if you're not feeling well later, give me a call and I'll come back in and cover for you."

"That'd be great, thanks." she answered with a forced smile. With that, the night manger left, and Veronica sighed as her work shift began. It wasn't the late hour that was getting to her, although it had threatened to. No, she knew that with the shift differential, working late nights was the way to go, even if it did mean she became a zombie half the time. Lately, however, it had been worse. She hadn't been feeling well for over a week, yet she was not sick, just worn out. Tonight when she woke up for work, she did feel a little queasy, and it wasn't the first time. A couple of 'helpful' coworkers swore she was pregnant, but Veronica refused to believe them. Besides, the unsettled feeling in her stomach passed soon enough. Their suspicions did have merit, but Veronica was pretty sure that she'd been careful. If not, it didn't matter, for while she wasn't planning on it anytime soon, Veronica was quite open to the idea of motherhood. Surprisingly, that thought brought a bit of a smile to the young brunette's face, but it disappeared as soon as the manager left. Once she was alone, Veronica took a look around the lobby before she settled in behind her console.

Even though it was a couple of hours before midnight, the hotel lobby was deserted. Veronica was used to that, in fact she enjoyed it because it meant she could spend most of the evening in peace, either reading a book or surfing the Internet. Customer requests at this late hour were rare, and while the nearby interstate brought in its share of traffic, most people way out here at this time of night usually chose to press on for the city, which was still at least an hour away. About the only people Veronica saw come in were those who were staying, and finishing dinner at the restaurant next door, or it would be one of the restaurant staffers coming in to stock up the complimentary snack bar that the hotel maintained. Either way, she felt confident enough that she'd be able to get some 'working rest' without too many distractions. Tonight seemed to be especially quiet, and after sitting behind the desk checking to see if there were any late arrivals scheduled (there weren't), Veronica decided to take a little walk around the lobby. As always, it was meticulously clean, not even the brochure rack needed any straightening up. She did pause to retrieve the remote for the TV in the lounge, with no one else around she could watch anything she wanted to. Another stop to get a couple of cookies and some juice, and she was all set. Here too Veronica saw that she'd have little company that night, the cookie tray was all full, the restaurant people must have gotten it done early. No matter, she thought as she returned to the desk to enjoy her snack.

The hours of the night ticked by slowly, and as the hands on the clock approached midnight, Veronica had checked in only one family that had been out on the road. She was feeling better than she had at the beginning of her shift, so at least she could look forward to the rest of an uneventful night without feeling like she was going to pass out. With nothing else going on, she decided that it was time for another cookie. It wasn't that long of a walk over to the snack counter, and while she mused over the choices, Veronica was startled by a hotel guest coming down the stairs with the same idea. 

"Oh! Excuse me!" she said as she jumped back, then laughed. "I'm sorry, I'm just not used to anyone coming down this late. Can I help you?"

"No, I'm good," replied the man as he surreptitiously looked Veronica over. "I guess we both had the same idea, a little midnight snack."

"Just one of the perks we like to offer our guests."

"Well, I travel a lot, and you don't see stuff like this anymore. This is my first stay here, but I don't think it'll be my last."

"That's good to hear," replied Veronica as she looked her companion over. He was rather easy on the eyes, she suspected he was an up and coming business type. She couldn't tell by his demeanor though, for it was quite friendly, even sincere. He just looked the part. On closer examination, Veronica guessed that he might spend a little time in front of the mirror each day, but not too much. His short sleeved shirt belied fairly well developed arms, this athletic looking fellow probably spent some decent hours at the gym. Normally she wouldn't spend so much time chatting up a guest, but neither of them had anything better to do with their time, and they ended up sitting and talking in the lounge for quite some time. The TV provided its distraction, but the front desk phone was mercifully silent as she got to know her midnight visitor a little better. Most importantly, he wasn't too forward or pushy, one of the reasons she stayed a little aloof when running the front desk was that guys usually made unwelcome advances. This one was flirty, to be sure, but not overly so, and Veronica was a little sad when he got up to leave. She understood, of course, a traveling businessman needed his sleep, but he did say that he'd try to keep in touch. His territory, she learned, brought him out her way every few months, and when it did he might pass her hotel several times. She'd also learned that his name was Howard, and as soon as he made his way up the stairs to his room, she checked the reservation system. Sure enough, he was in there, scheduled to arrive again late the following week. With that in mind, Veronica returned to her lonely vigil, keeping watch over the lobby until the morning broke.

Howard wasn't far from her thoughts, which was odd considering the fact that Veronica was 'attached.' She shrugged it off to the after affects of her not feeling well, and probably wouldn't have let her longing for him last more than a couple of days if a bouquet of flowers hadn't arrived. It was a simple arrangement of seasonal blooms, not the kind of thing that had any hidden meaning in it, and as she guessed, it had come from Howard. Veronica endured the good natured teasing from her coworkers about it, fortunately the flowers were tasteful and simple enough that she could display it on the hotel's front desk. The unexpected gift certainly lightened her spirits, for she was still feeling a little run down. Veronica made a mental note to finally give in and call her doctor about it, but her thoughts were dwelling more and more on Howard. As the days went on until his next visit, Veronica wondered exactly what it was she felt about him, and often wondered what he was thinking of her.

If Veronica ever knew what he really did think of her, it wouldn't have come as a shock. Howard was quite taken by her, and rightfully so. Sure her looks had done their part, Howard could hardly close his eyes before seeing a vision of the raven haired beauty in front of him. Veronica's dark complexion belied her Latina heritage, and her deep brown eyes burned with a passion. Her smile radiated warmth whenever Howard had been blessed enough to glimpse it, and then those same eyes became quite mirthful. At this time Howard could only imagine Veronica's petal soft lips gracing his, oh how he longed for that day! Her smooth skin looked silky and elegant to the touch that night as it lay just beyond his reach. A part of him wanted to reach out to her as they sat in such close proximity on the couch, but from Veronica's mannerisms, Howard knew the slow approach to be the one. It took a lot of self control for him to come to this conclusion. Veronica presented as stunning figure, although that night she had been wearing a modest blouse, her Capri pants hinted at something else. They accentuated the curves of her lower body quite well, leaving Howard to imagine how good those firm buns would feel in his hands. Veronica's breasts were well concealed by her modest top, however it would have been impossible to hide the swell that defined her upper body. Catching a glimpse of them, or better yet allowing his tongue to trace across her obviously firm bosom became a mission for Howard. He had done rather extensive traveling throughout his career, and knew that some desk clerks he'd met could be quite easy, other's took a gentler touch. It was a challenge he would not shy away from.

The days until Howard's next stay at the hotel passed quickly, but not nearly fast enough for his tastes. Once again, a bouquet of flowers arrived to beautify Veronica's desk, they also served to announce his arrival to her. Howard had no way of knowing that he needn't have bothered. She had been checking the reservation system on a daily basis to ensure that he was still booked. The sight of the blooms sitting in their vase on the desktop warmed Veronica's heart when she stepped through the door that evening, not even a recurring bout of nausea could dampen her spirits. The night manager jokingly offered to stay and keep her company, but smiled and laughed when she saw the shocked look on Veronica's face. As soon as she delivered her parting joke and left, Veronica hurriedly checked out the lobby area that was her responsibility. Howard or no Howard, she still had a job to do. Her luck was holding though, no major work needed to be done, and the restaurant staff had already come by and left. She toyed briefly with the idea of dropping by his room, but decided that doing so might send him the wrong message. Instead, she contented herself with waiting to see if he'd come down for a snack like she hoped he would. She didn't have long to wait.

Howard came bounding down the stairs not long after Veronica was done with her nightly routine. He seemed more than happy to see her, and even went so far as to greet her with an unexpected peck on the cheek. That made Veronica blush, but it didn't put a damper on their night together. As they had done before, the two of them settled down on the couch to watch some late night television. It didn't take them nearly as long to snuggle together, and Veronica noticed Howard's hand wandering down from her shoulder as he draped it across her back. She initially resisted this advance, more out of habit than anything else. Howard was persistent, and Veronica found her defenses crumbling. With Howard nuzzling her neck, she relented, allowing his hand to caress her breasts softly through her blouse. That encouraged him to do more, and in moments their lips were pressed together and their tongues vigorously darting between them. Howard moved quickly as Veronica melted in his arms. Another hand snaked its way up her thigh, seeking the hem of her modest skirt. She intercepted him, but not for long, letting his hand come to rest on her inner thigh. Only a few more inches and he'd be caressing her pussy through her panties, but Veronica adamantly refused to allow him to go that far. She didn't mind being flirty, but things were quickly getting out of hand. When he started fiddling with the buttons on her blouse, Veronica made a halfhearted attempt to shy away, but she was drawn to him and couldn't make him stop. One by one they became unfastened, she even found herself helping him push her blouse back and out of the way. Her bra was next, and although it had a front closure, Howard's strong hands eased the cups down instead, letting Veronica's gorgeous tits spill free.

As soon as she felt her bra slipping away, Veronica's eyes closed, as if she was in a trance. The feel of Howard's hands caressing her breasts was exhilarating. He was squeezing those gorgeous mounds together in his hands while pinching her nipples between his fingers. She arched her back, thrusting her breasts out towards him as she implored him to do more. With those perky breasts shoved in his face, Howard couldn't resist. He lowered his head down to her and flicked a tongue out onto a brown nipple. Veronica moaned as the rest of his mouth followed. Howard sucked all of one breast into his mouth, letting her nipple slide along his tongue before releasing her, only to repeat the process on the other side. He kept squeezing her breasts while he sucked, although he tweaked her nipples harder as he went along. Soon his teeth were involved too, scraping gently across Veronica's hard brown nipples before he kissed them. Her arms were drawn up to the back of his head, pulling Howard onto her tits while her soft moans echoed through the empty lobby. Again he tried to sneak a hand up her skirt, but Veronica shied away. Sure what they were doing felt wonderful, but she just couldn't let this go where he was leading it. Just as Howard's fingers started to touch the damp crotch of her panties, he felt her jump.

A pained look was on her face as Veronica stammered her excuses to him. "I'm sorry, I can't. I'm so sorry," she pleaded. He stroked her face lovingly while she did, despite his disappointment. Veronica seemed to be on the verge of crying as he reassured her that everything was all right, that he'd be willing to do anything she wanted. That drew a pause from her, and she looked long and deep into his eyes. Her dark eyes sparkled as she came to a realization that this man was special, that he'd give her all the time she needed, and Veronica made up her mind as to what to do next. One more look into Howard's eyes and her internal conflict ended. Veronica knew that she wasn't going to be able to give him everything he wanted, at least not tonight, but there was still something else she could do for him.

In a flash she was down on the carpeted floor in front of Howard as he sat on the couch. He spread his legs apart instinctively as Veronica's hands found his zipper and gave it a tug. In a moment she had his cock freed, it was mostly hard from their make out session, and a quick suck from her hot mouth got it all the way there. Veronica's actions were unexpected after her pause before, but Howard understood that she still needed more time. He was rather open to her idea of what she could do for him in the meantime, even though she hadn't discussed it with him. Big brown eyes looked into his as Veronica's head bobbed up and down on Howard's hard shaft. Her saliva coated his cock as she sucked him deep into her mouth and eased his cock down her throat. Howard fought the urge to grab Veronica by the back of the head while she sucked him, instead allowing her to blow him the way she wanted to. She was more of a cock sucker than stroker, using short bobbing motions of her head while she swallowed as much of his cock as she could. Periodically she'd stop, pulling Howard's cock out of her mouth before going down on him again. Her head bobbed up and down on him a little more now, moving faster and faster as she maintained a tight suction on Howard's cock. Veronica's hands had come to rest on his thighs as she sucked him, letting her mouth do all of the work. Howard gave in to the urge to reach down and fondle Veronica's breasts while she sucked him, but when she shook him off they finally came to rest on the back of her head. He ran her luxurious black hair through his fingers before he started directing her, pumping her head up and down faster and faster on his ramrod stiff cock. "Oh God, oh yes!" he murmured as she purred her delight. The little vibration it caused in the back of her throat while she hummed drove Howard absolutely wild. As Veronica sucked down hard on him one more time, he gasped and came, unable to suppress his feelings any longer.

Big gobs of cum shot into Veronica's throat, she swallowed as much of it down as she could before letting the rest dribble over her soft lips and back onto Howard's erect shaft. His cream filled her mouth and tasted so good as she sucked the last few drops out of his spurting cock. Howard's hands came free off the back of Veronica's head, but she stayed in place, on her knees in front of him, sucking even harder. His gasps soon quieted as she finally took his cock in her hands and used her tongue and lips to clean him off. She chased down every last drop of his cum that she missed, lapping it up hungrily before giving his cock one last long suck. A quick kiss on the tip of his prick ended it as the Latina beauty rose up to meet Howard's embrace. The hour was late and she knew that he'd be getting back to his room while she straightened herself up. Fortunately he had cum while inside her mouth, so there was no mess in her hair, and a glance in the mirror showed her where some of Howard's jizz still lingered on her face. A finger scraped that off quickly, and she sucked it down as well, savoring the man's taste. She bade him a good evening, knowing that he'd dream of that blow job for months to come as she buttoned her blouse and took up her position behind the desk once again.

The expected floral arrangements from Howard followed in the next couple of weeks, along with a personal note thanking her for such a wonderful evening together. That made Veronica smile, she felt as if she'd gotten just as much out of it as he had. Unfortunately, Howard also revealed that it would be some time before he'd be in her area again, leaving Veronica to pine away for him on her own. Still, he made a new reservation quickly, and she longed to see him again. In the meantime, her lingering feeling of being unwell finally led her to the doctor's office, where a new development awaited her. Veronica was pregnant, nearly two months so by the time she found out. Howard surely wasn't responsible, but Veronica knew who was. He took the news in stride, leaving any decision to be made up to her. By this time, Veronica had warmed up to the idea, and despite his reluctance to take any part in her life, she made up her mind. It was a weighty decision, but one Veronica had arrived at freely, and she willingly accepted the consequences of her actions. As the days until Howard's next visit passed, she wondered how he would take the news. It would take a strong character to accept her the way she was, but she had a feeling that if his feelings for her hadn't changed, everything between them would be fine. Besides, now that the threat of her getting pregnant was gone, and she knew which direction her previous relationship was going, Veronica felt she could be a lot freer when Howard arrived.

What Veronica didn't factor in to all of her thinking was cold feet. When Howard finally came back, she greeted him very warmly, despite the presence of a couple of her coworkers. They shared a knowing look as she embraced him, but to their credit they went about their normal duties. He was a little late checking in, so as soon as he had gotten himself settled in his room, Howard made up his mind to go visit Veronica immediately. She was nervously anticipating him, but said nothing revealing as they made their way to the couch together. It had been a long three months for both of them, and not much was really said between them before they found themselves in each other's arms. Now that there was some history between them, Veronica and Howard found themselves tearing through the preliminary steps rather quickly. She was more sure of herself and her intentions this time, pausing at nothing and allowing Howard's hands to wander freely. In the back of her mind, Veronica wondered if he'd notice the slight bulge forming at her midsection, and she decided to explain things to him if and only if he did. Howard didn't seem to notice as he eased Veronica's top out of the way, but perhaps he was too intent on getting at her breasts again. They were slightly larger than he remembered them, mostly due to her condition, but he certainly didn't mind. Soon his mouth and hands were fully involved, and Veronica was pressing his head down into her tits. She was moaning as he sucked on them, and all he noticed that was different was that Veronica was much less inhibited this night. During his ride to the hotel, Howard had considered how to approach her, figuring on taking the slow route again, but her reactions forced him to change tactics. As Howard's mouth greedily suckled on her breasts, he snaked a hand down toward her previously forbidden thighs.




Milk & Cookies



T'was the night before Christmas, and in MzDominica's house, Santa crouched next to the Christmas tree, pulling packages out of his sack. The ornaments and lights on the tree twinkled and shimmered, even though no one else was in the room to appreciate them. Suddenly, from somewhere in the tree, a light mist, like an air freshener, sprayed into his face. Santa's thoughts went blank for a moment, and he did not realize that MzDominica had entered the room and was standing next to him, until She spoke.

"Not a mouse that's stirring," She said. Her beautiful voice took on a combination of seduction and command. "Your mind is going blank, now, Santa. Blank. You think of nothing. You hear only My Voice."

Santa continued to kneel next to the tree, staring at the twinkling ornaments, his mind empty of all thought. MzDominica lowered another twinkling object, dangling from a chain, in front of his face. The facets of the crystal caught glints of light from the tree and reflected them into Santa's eyes, changing the colors. Yellow, green, purple, blue. Glittering and twinkling. So pretty.

"That's right, Santa. Gaze deep into the crystal. Look at all the pretty colors. Watch the crystal as it spins around... and around... and around..." For good measure, Dominica drew a vial from a pocket in Her robe and held it up to his face. "Breathe in," She whispered, as She sprayed another squirt of mind control mist into his face. No use taking chances -- this was Santa Claus, after all!

"Feel the warm relaxation spread through your face. Down your neck. Into your chest. And your arms. Feel your legs relax. And your feet relax. So loose, relaxed, and warm. So quiet. Watch the pretty colors, and let them fill your mind. No thoughts. Only the colors. Yellow, green, purple, blue."

Santa's eyes were wide, the pupils large dark pools in the half-lit room. His jaw had fallen open, his mouth a small pink oval in the middle of his white beard.

"Good, Santa. Let everything go. Let it all go. Loose... and relaxed." She looked down at Santa, a little surprised he was dressed exactly like one would expect from all the pictures. Red suit, white trim, black boots. "Nice boots," She said, "though a bit more serviceable than fashionable." She shifted Her stance a little, so Her leg was now in Santa's field of vision, covered in a knee-high boot of deep brown leather, which went so well with the salmon-colored night robe She wore. "How do you like MY boots?"

Dominica moved the crystal toward Her leg, and Santa's gaze shifted, blankly, following it. She held the crystal in front of Her boot. Time to see if this had worked. "Kiss My boot, slave."

Slowly, almost in a drifting motion, Santa twisted around a bit, and bowed his head low to the floor. And kissed MzDominica's boot. First the toe. Then he started a trail upward toward Her shin.

"Enough, slave," Dominica commanded. "Now, I want you to explain to Me. I don't see any packages for Me under the tree. Why not? Speak!"

Santa's voice seemed to come from someplace far, far away. "You're on the Naughty list," he replied.

"How can you say that?" Dominica asked. "When I have brought joy to thousands of My slaves, all over the world!" She leaned downward, bringing Her beautiful cleavage close to Santa's face. "Feel My fingers stroking your cock. You don't need me to touch you, for you to feel it. One long stroke, with My long fingernails, stroking from base to tip."

Santa's breathing became a little more irregular.

"That's right. Base to tip. And again. From base to tip. Along the underside of your cock. So slowly. So teasingly. Up to the head. Then around, and around."

Santa continued to gaze at Dominica's breasts. His eyes were drawn to the mermaid tattoo. Then to Her cleavage. A silent voice seemed to call him into that long, deep valley between Her gorgeous breasts. Down, down, down into darkness.

"I wouldn't think of expecting you to drop by without offering you milk and cookies."

Dominica stood up, and languidly strode across the room, past the fireplace. Santa followed Her with his eyes, unable to move. She stopped by what appeared to be a large easy chair, covered with a blanket. Then She bent down, grabbed one corner of the blanket, and gently pulled it aside. Underneath was a beautiful blonde woman, completely naked, attached to a frame by leather cuffs at her wrists and ankles, and supported by cleverly placed leather straps. She was clearly in a deep trance state, gazing forward into nothing. She was so deeply tranced and still, Santa hadn't noticed she wasn't just another piece of furniture.

"This is patti," Dominica said. "My beautiful lesbian hooker." She turned toward Santa, who had just enough awareness to meet Her eyes, and said, "And she's your snack, for tonight!"

Even deep in trance, patti immediately noticed she could see MzDominica in the room. At the sight of her Mistress, her slow, quiet breathing changed to rapid panting, and her shaved pussy flowered open and started to drip. The nipples on her huge breasts tautened, and began to ooze little drops of milk.

"patti," Santa said, tonelessly.

"Yes," Dominica replied. "And regardless of WHAT list you have her on, she's been a good girl. A very good girl, for her Mistress. And so I've arranged a special present for her. You're going to lick her... and make her cum!"

"Good girl," Santa repeated. "Yes, patti IS a good girl."

"Glad we agree," Dominica said. "Now, Santa, crawl over here, and give patti her Christmas present."

Santa crawled, a little more quickly now, toward the bound slave, approaching directly between her legs. Dominica watched, and just as he got within a few inches of patti's smooth hairless pussy, She said, "Wait!"

Santa halted, unable to disobey. Somewhere, way at the back of his mind, he could still wonder why.

"First the milk," Dominica said. "THEN the cookies." She ran a finger along Santa's face, from the temple down into his beard, twirling it a bit. "Crawl over to her breasts. And drink."

Santa backed away from between patti's gorgeous spread legs, and crawled next to the frame on her left. Her breasts seemed so huge and firm, filled as they were with milk. Santa leaned forward, took a nipple into his mouth, and began to suck.

"That's right," Dominica encouraged. "Suck it. Drink the milk." She knew that the mind control hormones filling patti's body would only serve to take Santa deeper into hypnotic slavery, the more he drank. "Drink it all!"

patti moaned as her nipple was sucked, her breast was emptied. She had been so full, the relief of pressure was so nice. She began to wiggle her hips a little, aching to be fucked, licked, whipped, anything.

"Now the other breast," Dominica commanded. "Crawl around to the other side. Drink your milk, slaveboy."

Santa's mind was becoming even emptier. His cock felt like a wooden pole, a sharp sword, a baseball bat -- something long, hard, and needing to DO something, touch something, plunge into something, rub on something. He couldn't think. He could only obey, crawl around the frame to patti's right side, and take her other nipple in his mouth. As he sucked, his thoughts seemed to drift farther away. All he wanted to do was suck, lick, obey, obey, obey.

patti's hips began to gyrate like she had a vibrator in her cunt. Of course, she THOUGHT she did, having been commanded by MzDominica to believe she was filled, 24/7, with vibrating eggs. Just on the edge of orgasm, all the time. Ready, ready, ready. The sucking on her nipple felt so good. So deep in trance, she didn't know who or what was sucking her, but Santa's beard tickled the skin over her ribs, and only made her more aroused. Unable to form words, patti continued to pant and moan, only able to react and obey.

"Good, Santa," Dominica whispered. "Now, I think she's ready. Crawl around, back to between her legs. Time to enjoy patti's cookies!"

Santa crouched low on the floor, turning around, crawling mindlessly along the right side of the frame, down, and back up between the slave's legs.

patti's naked cunt was pulsing... pulsing... pulsing... trained to pulse exactly in time with the light from MzDominica's crystal. Aching to be sucked, licked, stroked, whipped, spanked -- anything, anything, anything, please, please, please!

At the touch of Santa's tongue, patti squealed! She wiggled her hips, and sank down into her bondage, trying to get closer in contact with the warm, wet stimulation. Her legs were spread too wide for his beard to tickle the insides of her thighs -- but the gentle, feathery contact with the cheeks of her bottom got her hips pumping even harder. Santa's tongue began a complicated sequence of strokes, swirls, and slurps that surprised MzDominica. Nibbling on the inner labia, then a stroke upward to the clit. Around and around the clit, then starting down the other side, and a sudden jump to nibble at the outer labia.

"Hmmm," She thought. "Mrs. Claus must have a better time of things than I thought."

Santa's tongue twirled and licked. patti's hips bucked. Closer and closer and closer to orgasm. Needing to cum. Aching to cum. Almost there, almost, just on the edge, wanting it, please, please, please, just a little bit, a little bit, a little bit more!

But, of course, patti could not cum -- not without MzDominica's permission.

Mistress watched, as Santa licked, and patti's gyrations got wilder and wilder, her voice squealed more and more continuously, unable to stop, unable to go on -- perfectly obedient in her training to do only as her Mistress commanded.

Dominica smiled, a wry, crooked smile. Of enjoyment. And control. And lust. Ohhhh, yes. Lust. Her needs would be attended to later. But right now, time for Her slave's present. She leaned forward, toward patti's right ear, and whispered. "You have My permission, slut. Cum! Cum and cum and cum!"

patti's squeals turned into screams, as she came, over and over again. In wild, thrashing convulsions, held in control only by the cuffs and straps that would not let her move. Dominica watched as patti's body clenched in waves, starting in the middle of her belly, and moving outward in ripples, as her entire body orgasmed, over and over and over again. Santa continued licking, as patti continued to cum. After a few minutes, the intensity of her thrashing became gentler, more languid. And Santa's tongue matched her, slowing down, becoming more languid. Dominica watched, as a wave of muscle contractions moved visibly from patti's cunt, upward across her belly, wiggling her breasts, twitching her arms, her head moving from side to side as she moaned, happily, mindlessly. Little by little, patti and Santa slowed, together, as patti's orgasms subsided. Till Santa's face and tongue were still, and patti lay there, suspended in the harness, a huge smile on her blank, empty face.

patti's pussy juices, also laced with Dominica's mind control hormones, soaked into Santa's face... and dribbled on the carpet. Mistress made a mental note to have patti suck the carpet clean, tomorrow.

"Kneel down, slave. Down here, at My feet." Santa pulled his face away from patti's cunt, crawled over to Dominica's boots. "Down further. Place your face between My toes, and touch your nose to the floor." Blankly, Santa did as he was instructed. Unconsciously, he pumped his hips ever so gently, consumed with lust in his deep, mind controlled trance.

"Now, Santa, I want you to listen carefully," Dominica said. "All the rest of tonight, no matter where you are, no matter what you're doing... Whenever you hear the phrase 'Santa is coming,' or 'Here comes Santa Claus' -- or ANYTHING about Santa and coming... you will cum. You will orgasm. In one brief, little spurt. Every time. You will cum. Every time. You will not remember these commands, or being hypnotized by me -- but you WILL obey these instructions. I want your pants nice and drippy and wet with cum when you return to the North Pole. Do you understand?"

Santa had trouble forming the words, but his voice managed to croak out, "Yes, Mistress."

"Good," replied Dominica. "Now, about Me being on the Naughty list..." She crouched down, Her mouth close to his ear, and ran a finger down the side of his face. "Wouldn't you agree, your milk and cookies were nice?"

"Yes, Mistress," Santa whispered. His eyes were still unfocused, his mind empty and obedient.

"There's no reason I can't be on BOTH lists, right? Naughty AND Nice?"

A faint grin appeared on Santa's lips, as that idea took hold. "Yes... Naughty and Nice..."

"So, Santa... Let Me tell you what I want for Christmas." Dominica leaned even closer, and whispered in Santa's ear. He listened attentively, blank as his mind was, absorbing every detail. Dominica looked intently at Santa's face, memorizing every detail, suppressing a giggle at how straggly his beard looked, still soaked in patti's drippings.

Dominica stood up, brushed one hand across Santa's forehead. "You can do that for Me, tonight, right? You're magical, right?"

"Yes, Mistress," Santa replied, still kneeling at Dominica's feet.

"Very well, My magical slave. Forgetting everything, but obeying all My instructions... When you awaken, you will not notice that I am here. You will finish your visit, and leave, not remembering you were seen by anyone. On the count of three, you will now wake up. One, beginning to regain consciousness. Two, becoming more aware of yourself. And three, wide awake, Santa. Stand up."

Santa blinked a moment, not sure how he'd gotten from the Christmas tree over to the middle of the living room. He looked around, somehow missing the fact that MzDominica was standing right next to him. Walking, a little stiffly, back to the tree, he picked up his sack, pulled out a few more packages, and placed them under the tree. His hand brushed against a small lighted ornament depicting Santa in his sleigh, which suddenly started to play a few bars of an old Bing Crosby recording of "Here Comes Santa Claus, Right Down Santa Claus Lane." Santa shivered a little, and felt his cock leap unexpectedly in his pants, and spurt. Enjoying the experience, but a bit confused, Santa stood, pulled his sack closed, and started toward the chimney.

A beautiful voice seemed to come out of nowhere. "Better keep that wet spot bundled up warm, Santa," it said sweetly. "You wouldn't want to get frostbite." Santa looked around a moment, then turned toward the fireplace again.

As he got into the fireplace, and began to rise back upward, Santa heard the voice one more time. "Make sure it's red," the voice called out. "And has a full tank of gas!"

--- Happy Christmas! And to all, a Good Night! ---



Milk and Cookies



Thanks to my editor, AnInsatiableReader, for helping my clean this up. Also, thanks to my fiancee, for putting up with the time it takes for my neurotic ass to write, and for helping me clean it up, too.

This is my entry in the 2012 Winter Holidays contest. Vote, comment and send feedback!

*

"Now I know what he likes for a late night snack, for years now it's been bringing him back, milk and cookies..."

I kept my voice mostly to myself, but I still sang along to Clint Black's tribute to midnight snacks as it rang out over the speakers in the store. I was picking apples off the tray and putting them in a bag, but I stopped long enough to check the contents of my shopping cart. There was the milk, and there were the Chips Ahoy. 

Milk and cookies were not only my favorite snack, but I had something of a personal history with them, as well. Before I could reflect on that, I heard a young girl's voice call out behind me.

"Mama," she said. "Santa Claus is kinda fat. I think he needs to go on a diet."

I couldn't help but laugh. I turned around to see what looked to be a 5-year-old girl holding a package of carrots up for her mother to see. Looking at the mom, I wasn't surprised her daughter was thinking that way. The woman was built like a gymnast, with a tight body that looked like it had never so much as seen a cookie, much less ingested one. The ginormous rock on her left hand probably weighed more than she did.

She was so busy laughing that she hadn't yet answered her daughter's question, so I decided to help.

"What do you think will make Santa give you better presents?" I asked, and the girl turned to look at me. "Cookies or carrots?"

The girl flashed me one of those big, cheesy smiles that only little kids can mean sincerely. Obviously, she'd not yet had the 'stranger danger' conversation with her parents. I hoped I wasn't coming off like a letch, but her mom smiled at me and eased my concerns.

"Uh, cookies," she said, like that was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I think so, too," I said. "Why do you think I have cookies and milk in my cart? I'm hoping Santa will bring me some good stuff, too."

Of course, I had no intention of leaving anything out for Santa Claus, but if the cookies survived till Thursday night, it probably wouldn't take much work for a jolly old fat dude -- or anyone else who might be breaking in -- to find them in my kitchen.

The girl started telling me all the things she wanted Santa to bring her. She barely noticed her mom take the carrots out of her hand and put them in the cart. 

"Very cute little girl you have there," I said. "I hope you both have a very merry Christmas." She thanked me, and they both returned my salutation as I walked away.

When I decided to head to Wal-Mart on the way home from work, despite it being two days before Christmas, there was a not-so-quiet voice in my head doubting my intelligence. I was pleasantly surprised with the lack of mass humanity present in the store thus far, though. The freak ice storm probably had a lot to do with that, and it was also just after 3 p.m., so a lot of people were probably still at work. Still, I figured my luck would run out sooner or later, and I wanted to get out before the crowd thickened up. 

"Milk, eggs, butter," I said aloud, double-checking the contents of my shopping cart against a list in my head as I pulled into the shortest checkout line. "Bread, hamburger, noodles, apples, peanut butter, cookies, cat food, beer. Yep, that's everything."

Just as I turned to face the register, a voice called out behind me.

"Ah, but you forgot something." 

I turned toward the unfamiliar voice just as a pretty blonde pulled her half-full cart in behind me. 

"Oh?" I asked. "And what am I forgetting?"

"Breath mints," she answered with a mischievous grin in her eye. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Really?" I put my hand over my mouth and exhaled, and then sniffed my palm. "Even back there, it's still pretty bad, huh?"

"No, no," she said, blushing when she realized the unintended insult. "It's just... your breath can never be too fresh, right? You never know when you might have to put it to good use."

I smiled at the obvious come-on. I'm not the smartest guy in the world by any means, and my IQ dips even further when dealing with the opposite sex. But even I couldn't miss that one.

I'd passed her a few times while shopping, but this was the first chance I had to get a good look at her, so I tried to subtly size her up as I loaded my items on the conveyor belt. She was somewhere in her early 20s and was pretty short; I guessed 5'2, maybe 5'3, tops. It looked like she had a pretty athletic body, although with the subfreezing temperatures outside, she was so bundled up that I couldn't really tell. Her streaky blonde hair hung in loose curls around her face and shoulders, and her face showed a trace of Hispanic descent. 

"Well, I guess when you put it that way," I said, plucking a container of Ice Breakers from the shelf and tossing it onto the case of Samuel Adams. "But, you know what they say. What's good for the goose..." I grabbed another pack and offered it to her.

"Sure," she giggled, and I tossed the mints into her cart. Among the items already there were a ham, two boxes of stuffing, a can of sweet potatoes and several cans of cranberry sauce. That was no surprise, what with Christmas on the horizon. There were also coloring books and a box of crayons.

"Christmas dinner, huh?" I asked, motioning to her basket.

"Yeah," she answered, and frowned when she surveyed my things sitting on the conveyor belt. "You already bought yours, I guess?"

"No, but I'm about to," I replied. "Christmas dinner means making Hamburger Helper from scratch instead of using the box." I held up the hamburger and noodles for emphasis. "And for dessert, milk and cookies. And of course, beer."

I noticed a slight twinkle in her eye, a sharp contrast to the face she made, sticking her tongue out in the process. I couldn't help but notice the small stud that stuck out on top.

"That's Christmas dinner for you?"

"Yes, ma'am," I answered.

"Wrong answer," she said. "I believe your next line was supposed to be 'Bah humbug.'"

"Who, me?" I asked, feigning indignation with my hand clutching my chest. "No. I like Christmas just fine. I sent presents to everybody, and I have a couple under my little tree at home. I even decorated my house this year, sort of. But I'll be by myself, so there's no point in even attempting to botch a real Christmas dinner. Hamburger, noodles and some seasoning -- even I can't mess that up."

It wasn't entirely true, but it was close enough.

"Alone on Christmas?" she asked, sounding sad. Her eyes hit the floor. "No one should be alone on Christmas."

I silently agreed with her. This would be a first for me.

"Eh, I've done it before," I lied. "It's not that bad."

She didn't answer. Maybe she saw through my bullshit, or maybe she was just sad about the idea of spending Christmas alone. I was too.

I'd been facing her for so long that it caught me by surprise when the clerk asked to see my ID for the beer. He was already halfway through scanning my items. I'd be done in a few moments, but something about the woman made me want to keep talking to her. So, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"So do you color inside the lines?" I asked her as I handed my driver's license to the clerk. "I'm more of an outside-the-lines kind of guy myself."

She seemed confused for a second, until she took the coloring books from the cart and put them on the belt, right behind the little bar that separated her things from mine. I noticed her blush.

"Oh, these," she said. She took a deep breath, and then exhaled. "They're for my daughter."

"Last minute Christmas shopping?" I asked. She kept loading her things onto the belt, and I noticed that she wore no wedding ring.

"Just stocking stuffers," she said. "Her Christmas shopping was done by last weekend. Do you have any kids?"

I smiled wistfully. "No," I said. "Just a couple of nieces. I love hanging around kids, though," I finished, hoping I didn't sound too creepy.

"I saw you over there in the produce section," she said. "The way that little girl was beaming at you, I guess she liked you."

"She was trying to feed Santa carrots on Christmas Eve," I said. "Imagine the global consequences."

She giggled, but didn't get a chance to reply before the clerk cut in. "That will be $37.82, sir," he said. The girl was really very pretty and I found it hard to turn away. I did, though, and I swiped my debit card. He handed me my receipt, and I loaded the few bags into my cart.

"Well, enjoy your proper Christmas dinner," I said to the blonde. She looked like she had something to say, so I waited a few seconds. When she said nothing, I figured it was just my imagination. I pushed my cart into the front aisle, toward the door.

"You too, Mr. Hamburger and Noodles," she answered. "Remember what I said about the breath mints. They work wonders."

"You're going to give me a complex," I answered, laughing. She smiled at me brightly, but then turned that smile on the clerk as he started scanning her things.

I tried to think of a way to stay there and talk to her some more, but nothing that wouldn't make me blatantly obvious came to mind. So, I waved at her and pushed my cart from the store. 

Don't get me wrong -- I'm not shy. But after a very recent, very bloody divorce, I wasn't really sure how to play the game again. I wasn't really sure I even wanted to. I had most of the next week off from work, and my plans involved watching football, drinking beer and really, not much else. I didn't feel like going into my vacation with a fresh memory of firm rejection.

I quickly loaded my things into the truck and headed out. As I passed by the front door, I saw her come out, her cart full of bags. I was hoping she would look up and notice me, but she was looking down at her purse and talking to herself animatedly. I waited as long as I could for her attention to swing my way, but it didn't, and I couldn't hold up traffic anymore. 

Once I turned onto Broadway, my phone rang. It was the only woman I really had left in my life.

"Hi, Mom," I said. This probably wasn't the smartest idea, driving on icy roads while talking on the cell phone, but I only lived a half-mile from the store. 

"Kevin, will you please get over yourself and come home for Christmas?" That was my mom, all right -- always blunt, never wasting words.

"Mom, I told you," I said. "I need to do this by myself."

"No one needs to spend Christmas by themselves. It's not like you can't afford the plane ticket."

"I wouldn't even have to get a plane ticket, mom," I said, chuckling. "Seriously, I'm going to be spending a lot of days by myself now. I need to get used to it."

"Christmas isn't a lot of days," she replied. 

"You'll get no arguments from me."

I pulled up to a red light and heard my mom sigh audibly into the phone. She meant well, and I knew that. My parents still lived in my hometown of Salisbury, Maryland, and my mother didn't like it that I planned to spend the holidays 2,000 miles away in Texas. 

"Is it because Kira moved back here, honey?" she asked.

"Mom, so little in my life has to do with Kira now," I scoffed. "That's what happens when you get divorced."

As I knew it would, that lit a fire under my mom, and she started cussing. My mom was as kind, caring, nurturing and sweet as any other mom. But my mom also came with a mouth that would make a whole carrier full of sailors turn maroon. I still tried not to cuss around her, but the effort wasn't mutual.

"It has nothing to do with Kira," I said when my mom finished her expletive-laced tirade. "I haven't ever spent much time by myself. There have always been relatives, roommates, friends, or girlfriends. Or a wife."

"What about your bosses? You can't spend Christmas with them?"

I figured this was where she would take it. She knew better than to bug me about finding another woman, especially this soon after my marriage had exploded all over the DC beltway. But I'd flown her out to Dallas not long after I moved here, and the two guys who ran my company had made it a point to meet her. Apparently, they'd both made a big impression.

"Brad is taking his fiancée and another of their friends to Cancun for Christmas," I said. "And Tim did invite me over, but he's spending the holiday with his fiancée, too, and while being the third wheel really is one of my favorite things in life..."

"I know, Kevin," she said. "I just wish you wouldn't isolate yourself like this."

"It's not isolation, mom," I said, knowing I was full of shit. "It's called self-identity. Learning how to depend on myself."

"You know, you're a very stubborn kid," she answered.

"I'm damn near 30, mom," I replied. "Can I get an upgrade to 'very stubborn man?'"

"You're only 28; quit adding years to your age. You make me feel even older," she said. "And besides, you're still my kid."

"I know," I answered. "Mom, everything happens for a reason. You taught me that. There's a reason I'm divorced, and there's a reason I'm spending this Christmas alone. I don't know what those reasons are, but they exist nonetheless."

"I know what one of those reasons are," she fired back. "You inherited your father's thick skull."

"Yeah, because you're the least stubborn person I've talked to in, oh, at least the past 30 seconds," I answered, drawing the faintest of chuckles out of her. "Mom, please don't worry about me. I'll be ok on my own. I'll definitely call you on Christmas, and I know I have a trip to DC sometime in late January. As soon as I know when, I promise you'll be the first person I tell."

"I damn well better be," she answered, and I just had to laugh. "OK, honey. I need to go before your sister kills your niece. Merry Christmas, Kevin. I love you."

"I love you too, mom. Tell Janet and the kids I love them."

As with most mothers, mine knew me better than I did. She was exactly right -- it had little to do with wanting to spend time by myself. I just didn't want to be around anyone else, either, because I didn't want to dampen their moods. 

There was just one more turn, and I found myself pulling into my garage. I'd hung a huge snowman on the inner door as part of the half-ass Christmas decorating I'd done before leaving town four days ago, and I chuckled at that -- after all, it was only visible from the garage, and no one but me had been in the garage since I'd moved in. But still, it made me laugh, so I guess it was worth it. 

Inside, everything was as I left it. There was a three-foot tree sitting on an end table next to the couch, with a few presents underneath the table. I'd hung two stockings on the wall by the enormous flat-screen TV -- one for me, and one for my cat. There was some tinsel strung over the fireplace, and the tree was somewhat well lit.

It wasn't much, I knew. It was nothing like my mom and dad did in Maryland, and it wasn't even half of what Kira and I did for the three Christmases we were together. Still, it was something, and I was glad I'd gotten off my ass and at least made an attempt at making the house look festive.

Chester, my large gray and black striped cat, bounded into the room when he heard me enter and immediately started rubbing against my legs. This was a ritual for he and I -- I'd go off on a three- or four-day trip for my job, and then I'd come home and he'd act like I'd been gone for a year. I left a key with the neighbor, and she sent one of her kids over every day I was gone to feed him and play with him, but Chester was a social cat. Four days of very little human interaction did not sit well with him.

I put the bags and beer on the table, grabbed one of the brews, and turned the TV on as I slumped into my recliner. It was nearly 4 p.m. now, so I figured there had to be some sort of sports on. Sure enough, I found a meaningless bowl game to watch. 

I collapsed back into my chair, and my mind briefly drifted back to the pretty blonde at the grocery store. I knew she had a daughter, but in today's day and age, that didn't necessarily mean she had a husband or a boyfriend. The worse she could have done was turn me down, and while that would have definitely bruised my ego, I still regretted not sticking around or at least trying to get her name and her number. 

Ah, well. There was nothing I could do about it now. In my mind, I knew I just needed a little more time before I had the courage to get back on the horse, so to speak. Kira had wrecked me, but she hadn't killed me. I felt closer than ever to being ready to move on.

Soon, I thought. Very soon.

My attention shifted back to the TV. The bowl game was in New York, everyone's favorite place to spend four hours outdoors two days before Christmas, and I'd only heard of one of the teams. Still, it seemed like as good a way as any to kill off a few hours. Only a fraction of one had passed before my phone started chirping again. I checked the Caller ID, half smiled and half rolled my eyes, and answered.

"Hello," I said.

"Kevin Collins," the voice on the other end responded. "How you doing, man?"

"Hey, boss."

"Boss?" was the indignant reply. "Jesus, Kevin. You know I have a name, right?"

"Yes, Tim, I do know that," I said. "You had a name when I worked for you six years ago, too, but back then you kept insisting I call you 'Captain."

He laughed heartily. "That was a different time, and you know it."

I did, but I ignored it. "Besides, true or false -- you're calling to give me an assignment. If so, that would fall under the category of being my boss."

"Actually, that would be false," Tim said. "I called for two reasons. The first is to thank you for dropping everything and handling that last-minute flight up to Montreal for us. That was huge."

"Tim, you understand that in order to drop everything, there must first be something, right? And besides, you know me. Can't get enough of Canada."

"I'm sure you had something else you'd have rather been doing," Tim said. "That's all I'm saying. Brad and I appreciated it."

"No problem, Tim. It's the holidays, and you guys have families here in town. Me, not so much. If my hopping on a plane helps you stay in town with your families, I'm happy to do it."

"Speaking of you not having anyone around this year... that's the second reason I called." I instantly knew where this was going.

"Tim, I'm good, man."

"Dude, Julia threatened to show up unannounced at your house at 7 a.m. on Christmas morning if I didn't call you and beg you to come out to the lake for dinner."

"You mean, beg me for the third time to come out to the lake?"

"Yes. That."

"The answer's still the same, Tim. I appreciate the effort, but I'm just going to hang out and try and get some things done around the house."

"Yeah right," he scoffed. "You're going to mope."

"It's not moping. Going to watch a metric asston of football, drink about that much beer, and just chill with the cat. I have a computer desk to put together and some tile to lay in the upstairs bathroom, so if I can find a sober moment between all the drunk ones, I might actually get those things done."

"And you'll be doing this all by yourself."

"That's the plan, yeah."

"On Christmas."

"Yes."

"And the difference between that and moping is?" Tim asked me.

Not much, I thought. "I promise, the feeling sorry for myself portion of the program will be kept to an absolute minimum."

"Dude, just come over here for dinner. Just for an hour or two."

"Tim, I appreciate it. I really do. But I need to learn to be alone. It sucks that I'm doing that over the holidays, but it's something I need to do."




Milk and Cookies



"You'll have plenty of time to do that before and after dinner. Seriously, Kevin. If you don't agree to come, Julia is going to bring dinner to you."

Julia worked for the company, too, but she was in the business office, so I didn't know her very well. Still, I knew from office stories that she could be very, very persistent when she wanted something. When we got talking about the past on our overnight trips, Tim talked about how they wouldn't even be together if not for her persistence. I took a deep breath and decided to come out with the truth.

"Tim, Kira and I used to be a lot like you and Julia are now," I said. "You guys are unbearably happy, and I'm happy for you, man. You deserve all of that. But Christmas was a really special time for us, and I'm never going to have that again. If I have to spend even five minutes watching you two be like that on Christmas Day... seriously, I think I'll get sick."

The silence was deafening, but it didn't last long.

"I understand, Kev. I'm sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for. Like I said, I'm happy for you. It'd just be a little painful to be around all that this soon."

"What if I just come over there to drop off some food? I'll leave Julia here. We can watch a little football and just chat."

"Um, no," I replied. "I can only imagine what tragic things would happen to my paycheck if I took the business manager's fiancee away from her for even a couple hours on Christmas."

"You know," Tim said, sighing. "You're what my mother would call a stubborn pain in the ass."

"Yeah, my mother calls it that, too," I said. "In fact, she just did about 20 minutes ago. She's on your side of this argument."

"Smart woman." We both laughed. "I guess I'll let ya go, man," he said. "But, hey. Try to leave some of that milk and cookies for the fat guy, all right?"

I busted out laughing.

"Don't be getting greedy on him, now," Tim finished, right before he hung up.

Everyone at the office knew all about my milk-and-cookies obsession. That came about because of one of the many unorthodox practices Brad and Tim employed as managers. They wanted all the senior staff members to be more than just co-workers, and part of that was learning more about each other. So, at the conclusion of every staff meeting, they both answered random and usually personal questions about themselves, and we all went around the table answering the same question.

A couple months ago, they wanted us to tell everyone about our first date, and my story had been quite the doozy. I was in eighth grade, living on the west coast of Turkey where my dad was stationed in the Air Force. A couple of my friends had dared me to ask a third-grader to be my girlfriend. I got to pick the girl, so I chose the only third-grader I knew. Her name was Rita. Her older sister was just one year behind me in school and was part of my circle of friends, and she let Rita tag along quite a bit. Plus, our dads worked on the same floor in the base operations building, so I'd seen her at a couple of the office Christmas parties. 

Near as my memory could recall, she was plenty cute, but still. I was 13, and she was 9. Just letting her call me her boyfriend wasn't enough; to win the bet, I had to go on a date with her, too. So, I invited her over to our apartment one day and after a couple hours of Duck Hunt on Nintendo, she shared my favorite dessert -- milk and cookies.

I absolutely hated lying about it, even to a 9-year-old, so I told the poor girl the truth the following day. I tried my best to be nice to her every time I saw her after that, but she predictably hated me from then on. 

I didn't think of it as my first date at first -- it was at my house, and it involved a Nintendo game. My mom though, partially thinking it was cute and partially knowing she could torture me with it the rest of my life, told anyone who would listen that it was my first date. I didn't like it for a few years, but as I'd gotten older, I'd learned to embrace the story. It gave me something unique to say about my first dating experience, as opposed to what had happened on my real first date -- a hormone-infested gropefest in the back seat of my best friend's dad's car with a girl I realized I didn't really like shortly thereafter.

At any rate, my co-workers had had a huge laugh at my expense. The following morning, there was a package of Oreos and an elementary school-style milk carton on my desk. On the first flight I'd taken after I told my story, the flight attendant told me the plane was out of everything but Chips Ahoy and skim milk. It was part of office legend now.

Just thinking about it fired up my craving, so I went into the kitchen and indulged myself. As I ate, I put the groceries away. The last bag was just the apples. I pulled them from the bag, and that's when I saw them -- the Ice Breakers. I'd forgotten about them. I picked them up and stared intently at the container, but all I could see in my mind was the pretty blonde girl from the store. 

I made quick work of the plastic wrapping and popped one of the mints in my mouth.

Soon, I thought.

Very soon.

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

"Watch where you're going, young man!!"

It was a little old lady, wearing thick glasses and barely tall enough to see over her shopping cart -- the same cart that, despite her scolding, she'd just steered directly into mine.

I was standing in the frozen food section, in front of the pies. I'd been attempting to make the agonizing decision between cherry and lemon meringue for about a minute when the handle on my shopping cart had pushed back into my stomach.

A line about hoping she didn't drive the way she pushed a cart came to mind, but I squelched it. Cussing out an old lady on Christmas Eve would probably come with a heavy price tag in the next life. After all, this was somebody's Grandma, and they were probably looking forward to spending tomorrow with her.

"Merry Christmas to you, too," I said, attempting to be cordial. She gave me a stern glare and started to say something, but I quickly snatched both pies from the freezer and moved on before she could.

"Fucking Christmas Eve," I muttered under my breath as I headed down the aisle. I'd woken up pretty late that morning, and at halftime of an early afternoon bowl game, I'd been flipping channels. The Food Network was running a show with some top chefs making different things for Christmas dinner, and it looked damn good to me. It had drudged up happy memories of dozens of holiday feasts from years gone by. Those recollections, combined with the pretty blonde girl making fun of my ghetto Hamburger Helper, convinced me to give it a shot.

Bobby Flay could go to hell right about now, though. Mother Nature had dumped 12 more inches of snow on the Metroplex overnight, making yesterday's sleet and ice storm seem like a vacation in Tahiti. The nasty roads and bone-chilling temperatures didn't stop the Christmas Eve bumrush on Wal-Mart, though, and after driving around for five minutes looking for a parking spot and getting cut off twice, I'd finally fought my way into the store. I was then afforded the opportunity to navigate thick traffic in the aisles and dodge shopping carts, though the old lady's had been the first to actually make contact.

"Stupid old lady," I said as I pulled up in front of the large, open cold case with all the ham. They'd just restocked, apparently, because it was surprisingly full. "What a stupid idea, coming out in public on Christmas Eve."

I said it louder than I thought, apparently.

"I told you yesterday," a voice said behind me. "Your next line needs to be 'Bah humbug."

I spun around and came face to face with the striking blonde who'd dominated my thoughts since yesterday. She wore a dark leather jacket over a blood red, low-cut blouse that was tasteful, yet revealing enough to spark the imagination. Picasso might as well have manufactured her blue jeans, and her loose blonde curls dangled over her shoulders enticingly.

No ring today, either.

"Yesterday, I argued with you," I said. "Today, I think you might be right."

"What are you grumbling about, huh?" she asked, grinning from ear to ear.

I looked back down the frozen aisle. "Some old lady," I started, motioning over my shoulder before trailing off. "You know what? It doesn't even matter. I'm instantly happier now."

She blushed and looked down for a moment. "Thank you. You're very kind."

"And honest," I added.

"You have a name, or should I just call you Mr. Honest?"

"No, Mr. Honest works, though not as well as your Mr. Hamburger and Noodles from yesterday," I said. "But I understand if those are a little awkward for you, so you can call me Kevin." I stuck out my hand. 

"I'm Brittany," she said. When she put her hand in mine, I forgot about the mad mass of humanity in the store. The globe didn't exactly go hurtling off its axis, but I wasn't thinking about anything else. The way her eyes were locked on to our hands, neither was she. Her hand was very soft, and we didn't so much shake hands as I simply held her hand in mine. 

"What are you doing back here?" she asked, reluctantly breaking the handshake.

"You inspired me to cook a real Christmas dinner." I motioned to the cart, where I had sweet potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce and the pies, along with a few other things I'd forgotten to get the day before.

"So," she said, gesturing at the case we stood in front of, "I guess all that's left is a ham." 

I grinned and quickly tossed one into the cart, declaring, "Done." She laughed as I asked, "So what are you doing back here today? Just couldn't get enough of the Christmas Eve crowds, huh?"

"Oh yeah, I'm thrilled," she said. "Just had some things I forgot to get yesterday." I looked into her cart. Baking soda, salsa and ketchup were all she had managed to get thus far.

"You're a ketchup addict, too, huh? So important you just couldn't wait till Saturday?"

She blushed, and it made her cheeks glow. "The salsa, actually. My family will do chips and salsa all day tomorrow, right up until dinner. That doesn't work without the salsa."

"I could see how that would be an issue, yeah," I said. We pushed our carts together for a couple more minutes, and for two people who'd had no trouble making small talk, the ensuing silence was a little strange. I got a feeling that she was waiting on me to make a move.

I stopped in front of the bacon, and she kept rolling toward the orange juice, so the moment was on hold, anyway. I never chose the cheapest brand with important things such as bacon, so it took me a minute. When I looked back to the juices, she was gone. I started looking around, half-panicked that I'd missed my chance again. I didn't spot her immediately, but I figured she couldn't have gone too far, so I moved on to grab some cheese, the last thing I needed. I took my time there, too, glancing all around me every few seconds to try and find her. Finally, I tossed something in the cart and pushed forward. 

With the crazy ass crowd, there was no way she'd have been able to check out yet. My plan was to head toward the front of the store and see if I could spot her in a check-out line. As I pushed past the baking aisle, though, I had my second shopping-cart collision of the day.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Brittany asked me, the huge grin on her face making it very obvious that she, in fact, had done it on purpose.

"You caught me," I said. "I hate being here on Christmas Eve so much that I just decided, to hell with it... the next person to pull their cart out of this aisle is getting T-boned."

She giggled. "I saw you taking your time with the cheese, so I figured I would run down here and get some more flour, just in case mi abuela runs out today or tomorrow."

I caught the Spanish she'd thrown in, but that was really the first hint that her heritage matched up with the faint Hispanic features of her face.

"Probably not a bad idea," I said, and the silence descended on us again. I pushed forward toward the check-out lines and she joined me. Finally, right about the time we reached the produce, I got tired of it. I stopped pushing my cart, and she did the same. She looked at me inquisitively, and I didn't wait long to satisfy her curiosity.

"Listen," I said. "After all this craziness is over and the holidays have settled down for you, I'd love to see you again."

There. I'd said it.

"That was quite forward," she said, a smile playing on her lips.

"Yeah, well, I walked out of here yesterday without your number, and I've been kicking myself in the ass for it ever since," I said, matching her grin. "But yeah, I suppose I could have eased into it a little more."

"No, no," she said. "I like a man who isn't afraid to ask for what he wants. It's an attractive quality."

"It may have taken me a day, but yeah," I agreed. "I wasn't about to let this happen again."

She just laughed, and as sexy a sound as that was, it didn't really answer my question.

"So..." I said, trailing off, and a concerned look crossed her face.

"You remember that I told you I have a daughter, right?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said, kicking myself for even asking now. "I'm sorry. We just seemed to kind of, I don't know, click, I guess. I should have guessed her father would still be around."

She was confused for a second, but she figured it out quickly. "Oh, no, that's not what I meant. He's not."

My spirits immediately lifted.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay with my having a daughter," she said. "Alicia is my whole world."

"Sure," I said. "We can pick a place she can come with us."

I think her smile actually touched the parking lot.

"Then definitely," she said, immediately digging into her handbag for her phone. "I'd love to see you again."

We exchanged numbers and pushed our carts forward. This time, I let her go first.

"So where is Alicia today?" I asked.

"At home with my parents," she explained. "There is so much family in town right now, and a lot of them haven't seen her since she was a tiny baby. They begged me to let her stay with them while I went out, so I did."

"How old is she now?"

"She turned 2 in October," Brittany said. "Hopefully, tomorrow will be the first Christmas morning that is more about the presents and less about the wrapping paper."

I chuckled. I remembered my youngest niece's first Christmas. She'd been so fascinated by the pink bows on her gifts, she'd hardly noticed she had new toys to play with.

"So, what do you do for a living, Kevin?" she asked.

"Right to the point, huh?" I asked, and she blushed. "I'm just kidding. I'm a senior pilot for a private air charter company based here in Dallas. We fly out of a couple of the general aviation airports in town, to locations all over the world."

"That sounds exciting!" Her eyes were locked on mine, and I could see her enthusiasm was genuine.

"It beats working for a living, for sure," I agreed. "What about you?"

"I work in marketing at an advertising agency in Richland Hills," she said. "I'm a year away from finishing up my MBA at TCU."

Richland Hills and TCU, I thought. Way on the other side of the Metroplex from Garland, where we were.

"You work in marketing... for an advertising agency," I said, choosing not to ask my question. "How does that work?"

"Advertising agencies compete for business, too," she said, giggling at the question. "I'm hoping to move into actual content once I get my MBA."

"You don't look anywhere near old enough to have an MBA," I said.

"My Bachelor's degree only took three years," she explained, "and even just going part-time, the MBA is only going to take two. I turn 24 next month."

"That's a lot to accomplish in such a short amount of time," I said, and she blushed again. "And having a daughter, too? Wow."

"Thank you."

That was as far as we got before the people in front of her finished, and she started loading her things onto the counter. I went to help her, but got distracted by the wall of breath mints over the counter. She saw where I was looking and grinned at me.  Without missing a beat, I pulled the container from the day before out of my pocket.

"I'm good," I said, popping one into my mouth. "Thanks to someone yesterday telling me my breath was a little rank."

She rolled her eyes. "That's not what I meant, and you know it." She giggled, and all I could think about was that I wanted her to do it again. Soon.

Brittany focused on the clerk for a few moments while she ran her card, and when she was finished, we said a proper goodbye. I fought off the temptation to put the breath mints to good use -- I didn't want our first kiss to be in a packed Wal-Mart checkout line.

"So you will call me?" she asked.

"Of course," I said. "I asked for your number, didn't I?"

"Yeah, because that means soooo much," she replied, her sarcasm soaking the dirty tile floors.

"Fair enough," I agreed. "But I'm not like other people. If I asked for your number, I plan on using it. Maybe not today and probably not tomorrow, to let you be with your family. But I make no promises about December 26th."

She laughed. "You can call me in five minutes if you want."

"Ya know, I would, but I thought men were supposed to play hard to get these days," I answered back, making her roll her eyes again.

"Goodbye, Kevin," she said, wheeling her cart away. I wished she wouldn't. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Brittany." I liked the way her name rolled off my tongue, and as she smiled at me, I couldn't help but imagine how her tongue might roll off my tongue.

I thought that would be it. I paid for my groceries and zipped up my heavy jacket to prepare for the onslaught of the weather. When I got outside, however, I saw Brittany standing with her cart in a group of four or five other people, two of whom were uniformed Garland police officers. I was concerned briefly until she beckoned me over.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Sir," one of the policemen said as he approached. "Do you have to get on I-30 to go home?"

"No," I answered. "Just have to drive under it."

"Good," the cop answered. "We're closing I-30 in about two minutes. We have about 15 accidents from here all the way to Fort Worth. We're closing 635 too. I'm about to go inside and break the bad news over the intercom."

"Good luck with that," I said, and got a grim nod in response. 

I turned to Brittany. "I'm guessing you do have to get on I-30."

"Yeah," she said. "I take 30 all the way to 820."

"Jesus," I said. "That's like 40 miles from here. Where do you live?"

"In Keller."

Keller was a far northern suburb of Fort Worth, and Garland was on the southeastern side of Dallas. That was more than an hour commute. 

"What the hell are you doing all the way over here?" I shouted, mostly just to be heard over the winds that were whipping our faces with snow. She blushed and started shivering. 

"You know what? It doesn't matter," I said. "You think you can follow me for a mile or so on these icy roads?"

She nodded and smiled.

"You thought I was being forward before," I said. "I think it might be best if you come back to my house for now. It'll get you out of the storm and keep you off these roads. Are you OK with that?"

"Yeah," she said. "Thanks. Taking side streets all the way home would suck."

I smiled. "Where are you parked?"

She pointed, and just as we stepped off the curb into the parking lot, we heard a loud crash. Our heads snapped to the right, where two trucks had slid into one another a few hundred feet away near the other entrance to the store.

"On second thought," she said, "do you mind if I just ride with you?"

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

The ride home was mostly quiet. Brittany called her mom to let her know she wouldn't be home until later and to check on Alicia, but other than that, neither of us said much. I was mostly concentrating on not sliding off roads that had worsened considerably since I'd driven to the store, and the rest of my brain was thanking God for creating trucks with four-wheel drives.




Milk and Cookies



It wasn't until we sat patiently in my driveway waiting for the garage door to open that I really took the time to think about what I was doing. Less than 24 hours ago, this woman was a complete stranger. Now here she was about to come into my house, probably for the rest of the day. 

Everything happens for a reason, I thought.

Brittany beamed at me from the passenger seat. Her lips were full and pouty, and images of what they would look like wrapped around my cock flooded my mind. I immediately scolded myself for thinking those thoughts about a woman I was simply helping out of a tough situation. I managed to force those onto the backburner, but the urge to lean in and meet those oh-so-kissable lips with my own was a little harder to sweep aside.

"What are you so happy about?" I asked.

"You," she said. "Someone so willing to help me out in a bad situation like this."

"Yeah," I said. "A funny, gorgeous woman who barely knows me is about to spend the day at my house. I think I should be the one smiling."

She continued to smile as I pulled my Silverado into the garage. We grabbed the bags and headed inside. I quickly ushered her into the living room and gave her the remote while I went back to the kitchen. I warmed up hot chocolate while putting all my groceries away.

I came back holding two steaming mugs and a blanket, and was pleasantly surprised to see her watching football on ESPN.

"This," I said as I handed her the blanket, "you get now. And this," I said, holding one of the mugs up, "you get when you explain to me why you're shopping all the way out here."

I sat down in my recliner, putting both mugs on the table.

"What do you mean?"

"You live in Keller, and we're in Garland now," I said. "You probably passed by 30 Wal-Marts and a hundred other grocery stores on your way here. Why come all the way out here to shop? Two days in a row, no less?"

She got up briefly to get the mug from the table, and despite my earlier ultimatum, I made no move to stop her. She took several sips quickly.

"Sorry," she said. "It just looked too inviting. Anyway, my friend Sherry lives east of Rockwall. She went through my Bachelor's program with me at UT-Arlington. She just got dumped last week, and I'm worried about her. With so many people at my house, it's getting a little suffocating out there, so I decided to come out to check on her."

"Two days in a row, in this weather?"

"The things we do for our friends," she said. "Besides, I stayed over at her house last night. The stuff I bought yesterday was for her. She said she wasn't going to do Christmas dinner either, but I thought if everything was staring her in the face, she'd go ahead and do it anyway. Just my way of trying to cheer her up."

"There are Wal-Marts in Rockwall," I said. "Why come all the way across the lake?"

"You ask a lot of questions," she said, but didn't sound too annoyed by it. "I grew up out here, and I know where this Wal-Mart is. So I stopped there yesterday on the way out there, and stopped by today on the way home."

I thought for a moment. "I guess that all makes sense. Just seems crazy to me that you live an hour away but came all the way out here to shop for basic things like ketchup and flour."

"Well, that's why," she said. "Now, if you're done being inquisitive, I want to watch football!"

Those words were music to my ears, and I matched her grin as she turned the volume up on the game. No sooner had she done that, though, when it went to a commercial. The first ad was for Sunny Delight.

"I forgot to put your orange juice away," I said. "Be right back."

I hopped up and headed into the kitchen. I'd left her two bags on the table, and I fished the orange juice out and put it in the fridge. I started to walk back into the living room, but I bumped into my guest in the doorway.

"Sorry," I said. "Didn't know you were coming in here."

"I spilled hot chocolate on your coffee table, and wanted to get something to clean it up," she explained. I looked on top of the fridge, where I kept my dish towels, and that's when I spotted it. I'd all but forgotten that my overzealous neighbor had insisted on hanging mistletoe over the doorway before I went on my last trip. 

I looked at Brittany, and she was looking at it too. Her eyes met mine, and there was a glow in them I instantly knew I would never forget. I was ready to laugh the whole thing off -- after all, we barely knew each other -- but when she licked her lips invitingly, I lost all my willpower. I leaned in and gently brushed my lips against hers. It was subtle, and it was tender. It only lasted a second, but there was more heat in that split-second of a kiss than I remembered from any other first kiss in my entire life.

Whatever the case, it wasn't enough. I backed away briefly, but when I saw that her eyes were still closed, I leaned in again. If the first kiss had been a friendly introduction, the second was an all-out assault. I sucked her top lip between mine and she did the same with my bottom lip as our tongues instantly engaged in battle. I could feel her tongue ring with my own tongue. My right arm snaked behind her head and pulled her tighter as I felt her arms wrap around my torso. 

It was everything I thought it would be when I was imagining it in the car, multiplied by ten. We broke apart ever so briefly out of respect to our lungs, but wasted no time tangling ourselves together again.

She pushed me up against the side of the fridge and became the aggressor, her hands running up and down my chest and sides as our tongues continued their battle. To answer her, I wrapped my arms around her waist and lifted her off the ground. She squealed at first, but quickly wrapped her tight, toned legs around my waist as I carried her back into the living room and deposited her onto the couch.

We were like two overly cautious school kids for the next half-hour. We made out frantically and let our hands roam wherever they wanted, but we carefully avoided any areas that might get us in trouble. I kept my hands away from her breasts, choosing instead to run them up and down her sides or across her stomach. Our legs rubbed together and created plenty of heat between our jeans, but my leg never slipped between hers, and vice versa.

We were exploring and living in the moment, happy to simply enjoy each other's bodies and mouths without pushing things too far. It was an unspoken agreement between us. We struggled to catch our breath when we finally split apart, still fully clothed except our shoes. She spoke first.

"I haven't done that since high school," she said.

"Been a long time for me, too," I replied. It had been nine months since I'd even kissed a woman; much longer for anything like this. "You are very talented at that, by the way."

"You're not so bad yourself," she said. We went back to it for a little while longer, but eventually the mid-day malaise overtook us, and we drifted off to sleep right there on my couch.

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

I noticed three things when I woke up some time later.

First, Brittany felt just right nestled up against me. Somehow we'd managed to squirm ourselves into a spooning position. My back was pressed up against the back of the couch, and she lay on her side in front of me. At 6-foot-2, I had almost a foot on her, so her head fit comfortably against my neck and upper chest. My left arm was draped around her stomach. It was a corny thought, for sure, but it seemed like this particular position had been made just for us.

Second, I realized that the TV was off, and so were the living room lights. The clock on my satellite receiver was off as well, meaning that the storm had knocked out the power. Grrrrrreat.

The last thing I noticed was the most poignant of all, however. I could barely make him out through the tiny bit of light streaming through the living room window, but I saw Chester curled up against Brittany's legs. His head was tucked between his front legs, and he was sleeping harder than either of us had been.

His presence there was remarkable to me, and I alternated between staring at him and Brittany for the next few minutes. I couldn't help but laugh, and that woke up my house guest. She turned to look at me, that infectious smile still plastered on her face.

"What?" she asked softly.

"Just watching your friend down there," I replied.

She reached down and petted Chester's back. The cat didn't budge. "Why?" she asked.

"He's always been a pretty damn good judge of character."

"Really?" she asked, continuing to pet him. "Well, then, I'm glad he likes me."

"He does," I agreed. "Poor guy absolutely hated my ex-wife."

I'd blurted that out without thinking, and I instantly froze. Thankfully, so did my vocal chords so nothing else stupid could slip out. Sure, we were spending the day together and making out like a couple of oversexed teenagers, but it was waaaaaay too soon to be unlocking the skeleton closet.

She said nothing for a few moments, and finally I couldn't take it anymore.

"Sorry about that," I said. "Sure that was way more than you wanted to know."

She gripped my hand tightly. "Not at all," she said. "People get divorced all the time, Kevin."

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing. 

"He didn't like her, huh?" she said, trying to get me to say something.

"Not even a little bit," I said, laughing. "The first time he met my mom and my sister, he gravitated toward them. He's cool with my sister's kids, even though they like trying to pull his tail. My dad plays rough with him, and he just eats it up. He doesn't mind the neighbors or their kids, either. But Kira... the first time she walked through the door, he hissed at her from across the room and hid behind the couch. Eventually he got where he would come out when she was around, but he'd stay away from her. He wouldn't even come when she'd get out the treats."

"Damn," Brittany said.

"I know," I said. "After she left, she had to come back to pick up a few things, and he growled at her the whole time she was there. The only other person he's ever growled at was a door-to-door lawn care salesman I couldn't get rid of."

"Aww," she replied, bending down to pet him a few more times. Her long, smooth strokes did nothing to wake him up, but as her ass pushed backward into my crotch, something else was definitely stirring. 

"Let me up a second," I said, and she just looked back at me over her shoulder.

"Why?" she giggled, wiggling her hips to let me know she knew.

"Power's out," I said, ignoring the problem. "Candles are in the kitchen."

"Oh, ok," she said and sat up on the couch, no small feat considering the furball attached to her legs. Chester was unhappy with the disturbance, and started meowing instantly. I stood up and patted him on the head.

"Calm down, Chester," I said, shuffling into the kitchen. 

"Chester, huh?" Brittany said to him. She continued talking as I entered the kitchen, doing that weird baby talk thing women like to do to animals. Normally it annoys me, but with Brittany it was cute, just a funny quirk that made me like her a little bit more. When I returned to the living room with the candles a few moments later, he'd already curled up on her lap and was back asleep.

"Wow," I said, watching the two of them as I set up the candlesticks and lit up the room. "I knew he liked you, but... that's unprecedented. I don't think he even took to me that quickly."

"Aww, don't be jealous," she said playfully. "I've actually always been good with animals. We have a chocolate lab, but he's down in the valley with my older sister for Christmas this year." Her face was hypnotic in the candlelight, and I could see the flames dancing in her eyes. "I thought all men were macho and liked dogs," she said with a grin.

"I like dogs, but they are a lot of work," I said. "I'm on the road so much with my job that it isn't really practical to have one right now."

"How would Chester do with a dog?" she asked, petting him as he snoozed.

"I actually don't know," I said. "He's ok with other cats usually, but he's never even had to share space with a dog. The neighbors have one, and I know he likes to sit in the kitchen window and stare at it."

"He probably thinks it's insane," she quipped.

"I think it is," I said. "So what about you? All women are sensitive and like cats, right?" I asked, turning her earlier joking stereotype around.

"I like them, but we don't have any because my mom's allergic," she said. "I still live with my family while I'm finishing up school."

"Makes sense," I said. "Exactly what I would have done if I'd gone to college right after high school."

"What did you do instead?" she asked.

"I played professional baseball."

"Really?" she asked, perking up instantly.

"Really," I replied. "In retrospect, I should have gone to college instead. I had plenty of scholarship offers, but the only school I wanted to play for didn't want me. The Detroit Tigers did, though. Took me in the 22nd round."

"Where did you want to go?"

"The University of Maryland," I replied. "My dad got two degrees there, and my older sister was going there at the time. Now she's a chemistry professor there. But apparently their baseball team had enough lefties with 94-mile-an-hour fastballs."

"Stupid coaches, more likely," she said. "Mid-90s is impressive for a righty, and it's a lot less common for left-handers."

"You know some baseball," I stated, very impressed.

"Three brothers," she said. "I know more about sports than most men. One of my brothers works in the front office for the Colorado Rockies now, so I'm even more into baseball."

"All right," I replied. "There has to be something about you that isn't completely and totally awesome. Out with it."

"All in good time," she teased. That meant she wanted there to be a next time, so I took it. "So you signed with the Tigers. What happened then?"

I rolled up my left sleeve above the elbow. "Pitched for them for three years, made it all the way to Double A. Took a line drive off my pitching elbow during a Memorial Day game in Connecticut. Hurt like hell, but I decided I could stay in the game. I made a few warmup pitches, everything felt fine, and the team trainer agreed with me. So, the next live pitch I threw, I tore tendons I didn't even know I had. My left elbow now looks like a drunk blind guy doing a jigsaw puzzle. That was pretty much it for my career."

"Wow," she said, looking over my elbow for a few seconds. The scars formed an intricate pattern that resembled nothing else on Earth. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thanks," I said. "It was tough to deal with, but I know everything happens for a reason. On a whim, I enlisted in the Marine Corps. They taught me how to work on the computer systems in airplanes. I became fascinated with aviation, and when I wasn't deployed overseas, I learned to fly. One of the owners of my charter corporation was a pilot I served with in Iraq. My professional life is pretty much perfect now, so I can't complain."

"Just your professional life?" Brittany asked. "What about your personal life?"

"A story for a different time and a stronger drink," I said, grabbing the mugs off the coffee table and retreating into the kitchen. I'd already told this alluring virtual stranger more than I'd planned to, and it was a wonder she wasn't already out the door. Show and tell time was over for the day. "You want a beer?" I asked. "They should still be fairly cold."

"Sounds good," she replied, and within seconds, I was sitting next to her on the couch again. "Fair is fair, Kevin. I guess you've probably figured out that I'm divorced, too."

"Not necessarily," I said. "You don't have to be married to have a child."

"True," she said. "But I was. I got married two years after high school, divorced two years later, which was almost two years ago now. Seemed like a good idea at the time, but he turned out to be a complete and total assclown."

I just grinned at her language.

"Sorry to be so blunt, but he was. Actually, pretty much every guy I've ever dated has turned out to be an asshole. Some were drunks, some just wanted to get me into bed, one was even a cheater. All of them were liars. I've only had one boyfriend who never lied to me, and he lasted for less than a week."

"What happened to him?"

"A story for a different time and a stronger drink," she said, licking her lips as she turned the line around on me.

"Touche," I said. "Are you still friends with your ex-husband?"

"Not exactly," she said. "He's in jail. Hopefully, he will be for a long, long time." There was obviously more to the story, but she'd tell me when she felt comfortable with me... if she ever did. "Are you still friends with yours?"

"The bitch landed me on Fox News," I said. "The details are for another time, but she's a public figure in Washington. Our break-up was very messy, and due to her job, it was very public. I could forgive CNN and Headline News. Maybe even MSNBC. But once I saw the story on Fox News... that's just unacceptable. There's no forgiving that."

She was laughing again, which woke Chester up. I had to fight the urge to shove the cat off her lap and fall back on top of her on the couch, but I somehow managed. 

"Ditch your friend for a minute," I said, standing up. "You're very lucky. I don't think anyone's ever gotten a tour of my house at night with the power out."

Brittany stood up, and Chester jumped off her lap and onto the couch. I grabbed the closest candle, and when Brittany took my hand, I could feel the sparks crackling at her touch. Between that and the smile she tossed me, my little problem was becoming not-so-little again. 

I led her through my house, which was really more than a bachelor needed. She couldn't see much, but that was okay, because I didn't have a lot to say. I hadn't even been in the two guest bedrooms or the extra bathroom since I moved in a few months ago.  

When we got outside, though, I could tell she was impressed with the deck. On one side was a brand new hot tub that I had yet to use, and on the other side was a large gas grill, which was my primary means of cooking.

"This is quite the house, Mr. Collins," she said once we'd hurried inside, escaping from the freezing temperatures and lightly falling snow. 

"Thanks," I said. "I know it's too big for a single guy, really, but I figured..."

Something caught my attention. Something she'd said.

"How did you know that was my last name?" I asked.

Her eyes flashed with something -- surprise, maybe? -- but they settled right down.

"You told me today at Wal-Mart," she said. "When you introduced yourself."

"I did?" I asked. I didn't remember telling her that.

"Yes, you did," she laughed. "Typical man. Gets one little kiss, and forgets everything."

"Hey, that wasn't one little kiss," I replied. "That was a whole bunch of the best kisses I've ever had. I seriously don't remember telling you that, but I'll take your word for it. You have to share, though."

"I thought I told you mine, too," she said, and when I shook my head, she shrugged. "Oh well. It's Morgan. Brittany Morgan."

"Sounds hot," I said. "Just like you." 

I had no idea what time it was, but it was dark outside. The only light came from the flickering red candle, but it picked up what was now becoming a familiar twinkle in her eyes. Staring back into them, I was entranced. She licked her lips as she nudged me backward against a counter in the kitchen. "So what do you want to do now, hmm?"

"You," I replied, picking her up around the waist. She wrapped her legs around my lower back as I lifted her, and our tongues wasted no time getting back together. I took slow, careful steps as I made my way down the hall, stopping only to open my bedroom door.




Milk and Cookies



I wanted to be cautious, but she was getting to me in a way no other girl ever had. Oh, sure, there'd been passionate times with previous girlfriends, and when my ex-wife and I were at our peak, things were intense. But I'd never felt this way about anyone after a few hours together. Every time we touched -- hell, every time she looked at me -- my pulse quickened, my breathing shallowed, and I could swear I even felt my blood heat up a few degrees. 

I had no idea if she was feeling any of the same things, but her eyes were closed tight, her face was flushed, and her lips were moist with anticipation, as if their only purpose right now was to get tangled up with mine.

I slowly lowered her to the bed, and the second her back made contact with my bedspread, her eyes snapped open and locked onto mine. She smirked at me, and I watched as her hands gripped the bottom of her red blouse. Before she could pull it up, I grabbed her wrist.

"Are you sure?" I questioned.

"Yes," she said breathlessly. "I don't want to try to explain it right now, Kevin. We can think later. You just do something to me, and--"

That was all I needed to hear. I leaned forward and kissed her belly button, relishing in the little squeal she let out. She pulled her shirt the rest of the way off, and I used my tongue, my lips and my fingers to gain intimate knowledge of each new inch as it was revealed. Her stomach was flat and toned, her skin was like silk, smooth and unblemished, and she got goosebumps when I lazily drug my tongue across the bottom of her ribcage.

Her shirt landed in a heap next to me on the bed, and she arched her back so her fingers could work on her bra clasp.

"Let me," I whispered, covering her hands with my own. She smiled and moved her hands onto my back, and I proceeded to fumble clumsily with the clasps. It had been damn near a year since I'd taken off a woman's bra, and I wasn't all that adept at it then. So why volunteer? Simple: the more I struggled, the more I got to explore. While I worked at it, my lips traveled all over her chest, trailing kisses across her collarbones, her throat, and the upper, exposed portions of her breasts. I really wasn't even trying all that hard, but I heard her let out a relieved sigh when I worked the final clasp loose.

I pushed myself off of her, taking her black, lacy bra with me as I got my first look at her breasts. They weren't large by any means, but they were slightly bigger than they should have been for such a small girl. Not being an expert on such things, I still guessed they were somewhere between a large B-cup and a small C. There was no sag or droop in the perfect orbs, the only break in the skin being her small, dark areola topped by twin pink eraser-sized nipples.

"You like?" Brittany asked after I'd stared for a good half-minute.

"They're incredible," I said. "You're incredible."

Before she could respond, I pounced. My hand kneaded one breast as I sucked the opposite nipple between my lips. She inhaled sharply, and her hand tightened in my hair. I took that as a good sign, and proceeded to spend more than 10 minutes worshipping her breasts, taking my time and moving back and forth between them frequently. I was spurred on by Brittany's frequent moaning, and I was doing my best to memorize all of her subtle responses. When she twitched, I wanted to know what I'd done to cause it. When she sucked air in rapidly, I tried to remember why. When she giggled, I seared it into my memory.

"You really do like them," she said after a while.

"Mm hmm," I said, not wanting to move my mouth away.

"I think they like you, too," she replied. "But there are other parts of my body, you know."

This time I did pull my mouth away so I could meet her eyes. She had such a relaxed, serene look on her face that it caught me a little off guard. "I bet they're all just as spectacular."

"Only one way to find out, Kevin," she teased, and started working on the buttons below her waist. I had no idea how far she wanted this to go. Hell, I wasn't sure how far I wanted it to go. All I really knew right then is I wanted to see what was underneath the jeans she started to peel from her body. 

Her legs were tanned and toned, and her toes were pedicured and painted. It was hard to notice any of that, though, because she wore the sexiest pair of purple lace panties I'd ever seen, and there was a sizable wet spot right in the middle.

"Oh, my," she said. "I think I might have spilled something."

"You mind if I check for you?" I asked.

"It's the gentlemanly thing to do," she quipped. Her voice got a little huskier then. "Please, Kevin. Touch me."

I rubbed my palm lightly over the wet spot, drawing the loudest moan yet from her lips. Her scent filled the room as I gently massaged her pussy through her panties, inviting more and more of her juices to soak them. I pulled them to side for a second, getting a nice look at her. Her hair was trimmed and dark, either because she wasn't a natural blonde or because it was soaked, I didn't know. I brushed my fingers lightly over her clit.

"Oh, fuck," she gasped. 

I briefly considered going down on her, but I figured that could wait. I knew what I really wanted. I moved up alongside her, wrapping my still-clothed legs around her left one and pulling it into me, opening her up a little more. My right hand dived into her hair, my tongue licked her earlobe, and my left hand curled itself under the waistband of her panties and searched out her clit.

"I know how beautiful you are, Brittany," I whispered. "I know how hot you sound, and I love how your body moves. What I want, is..."

I trailed off on purpose as one finger dipped down into her pussy. I got it drenched, and then lifted it to my lips, sucking all her juices off before continuing.

"I want to see how all those things change when you're cumming for me."

My fingers pressed down on her clit without warning, and I swear, she tried to claw my arm off. Her nails sank into my shoulder muscles, but that didn't stop me from moving my mouth down to her neck. I picked a spot and nibbled and licked it, not really trying to leave a mark but not caring if I did. I'd only rubbed her clit four or five times when she screamed out.

"Holy fuck!!" she shouted as her body shook. Her orgasm seemed to pulse, from her pussy up through her stomach, her amazing breasts and up to her beautiful face, which I saw flush even deeper. After the scream, she was now biting her lip so hard I thought my shoulder might not be the only thing bleeding. The wave rocked back down her body, and I felt even more of her juices ooze out onto my hand before I saw her legs trembling.

When the brunt of her orgasm had subsided, I pulled my hand from between her legs and wrapped it across her body, just under her breasts, and squeezed tight. I don't think she noticed I was holding her at first, as she was concentrating on breathing normally. After she had it under control, her hand touched mine and she smiled.

"I can't believe you made me cum so fast," she said.

"I can't either, but I did," I answered. 

"Don't get used to it, Mister," she said, mock-poking me in the chest. "I can guarantee you'll have to work harder for the next one."

"So, I did well enough that you want there to be a next one, huh?" I asked.

"Oh, fuck yes," she said, chuckling. "But not right now."

"No?" I asked. I'd planned on giving her a small respite before moving right back in, but as she wriggled free from my arms, I saw that she had other plans.

"No," she confirmed. "It's your turn. And you have way too many clothes on." 

Within seconds, my long-sleeved Jets T-shirt and faded blue jeans joined her clothes in the pile. I'd left her with nothing but her panties; she left me with only my boxers. My cock had been screaming to get loose pretty much since I'd seen her at the store this afternoon, and now that my pants were off, it found its own way through the hole in the front of my boxers to fresh air.

"Jesus, Kevin," she said as it popped free. "So this is what's been poking me in the back all day. How big is it?"

"I don't really keep score," I said. "No one's ever complained, though."

"I would hope not."

I'd never measured it, but my eyeball's best guess was somewhere between seven and eight inches. However long it was, it had always served me pretty well. I saw the glassy-eyed gaze Brittany was giving it now, though, and I considered how revved up she'd had me all afternoon and night. Size really didn't matter in this case -- it wasn't going to stand much of a chance. 

"I don't think I'm going to last too long either, Brittany," I said. Her tiny hand slowly wrapped itself around the base of my cock, leaving more than half of it exposed.

"You better not," she said, licking her lips. "There'll be plenty of time for stamina later."

I groaned as she started to pump her hand slowly up and down. There was enough pre-cum leaking from the tip that she didn't need any other lube. I rubbed my hand lightly up and down her back as she leaned down to lick one of my nipples. Her hair fell all over my chest and stomach, tickling my skin lightly. 

"You have such a nice cock," she muttered. "I could get off again just touching it and staring at it."

When the fingertips of her other hand started grazing my balls, that was it. I tried to warn her, but I felt the cum erupting from my cock before I even finished the thought. I felt some of it hit my stomach, but I couldn't see where the rest of it had gone. There were at least six blasts, probably more.

"Oh my God," she said. "That was amazing."

"Sorry," I stammered. "Tried to warn you."

"It's okay," she replied. "Though, if you had, I probably would have put it in my mouth and swallowed it all."

My dick hadn't started to soften yet, and with her talking like that, I wasn't sure if it would. She turned her head to look at me, and I could see two globs of cum on her right cheek. Most of it had ended up in her hair, and her hand was coated as well. 

"I seriously didn't mean to do that, Brittany," I said.

"Stop it," she said. "You have no idea how hot that was, Kevin. All I had to do was touch you. It took less than a minute. That's incredible."

She smiled at me, and I leaned down to kiss her. She moved her head up to meet me, and when our lips met, it was no less electric than the first time, several hours ago now in my kitchen.

"I think I will need a shower, though," she said when we finished.

We shared a laugh as I led her into my bathroom. I flicked the light switch on out of habit and to my surprise, the light came on. 

"Looks like you'll get a hot shower after all," I said. She smiled at me as she shimmied out of her panties, giving me a sexy little wiggle as she turned to get into the shower. I helped her with the water temperature, and then went to get her a couple towels. As much as I wanted to join her in the shower, I thought better of it and headed out of the room.

I walked into the kitchen in just my boxers and leaned against the counter. I waited patiently for the doubts to start creeping in. I'd sworn up and down after my marriage had exploded that I was done with this whole opposite sex thing for at least a year, and it hadn't even been nine months yet. 

The doubts never came. Prior to Kira, I'd never had a problem with confidence when it came to women, and I was happy to see that that hadn't changed. When I thought about the girl upstairs in my bathroom, I wasn't nervous, or scared, or skeptical. I was a little giddy, maybe, and definitely excited. But the negative feelings I expected to wash over me never materialized.

I made a few sandwiches while I waited, and no more than 10 minutes later, I heard footsteps in the hallway. 

"You could have joined me, you know," she said.

"I know," I said, and when I turned toward her, whatever else I might have said disappeared. Sweet Jesus, her hair was wet, she had no makeup on, and she was wearing my bathrobe.

"I hope you don't mind," she said. "I have some extra clothes in my car, but nothing here."

"Looks way better on you than it ever has on me," I sputtered. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and there were no traces of anything -- makeup or my little present -- on her face. She caught me staring.

"I know," she said. "I have no makeup here, no lotion, nothing to make my hair look good. I don't know how I could have planned for this, but I should have tried. Please just try and forget that you've ever seen me like this."

"Why the hell would I want to do that?" I asked, half-stunned by her nervous rambling. "Brittany, you're gorgeous. Makeup might accentuate certain features, but it can't make an ugly woman look beautiful. You do that all on your own, makeup or not." Her face flushed a deep crimson.

"Thank you," she said demurely.

We sat and ate the sandwiches in relative silence. Throughout the meal, I caught her looking at me several times, and each time I met her stare, she just beamed a smile back at me. 

Once we were finished, we got dressed and went to get her car from the Wal-Mart parking lot. The roads were still icy and it was bitter cold, but it was after 9 p.m. on Christmas Eve, and with so few cars on the road, she had no problem driving her little Mazda back to my house.

"I don't want to assume anything, Brittany," I said once we'd both parked in the garage. "But can you drive this little thing all the way back to Keller tonight?"

She looked doubtful. Before she could answer, her cell phone rang.

"Hi, mama," she said, getting out of her car and following me into the warm house. "Yeah, I'm still here. I guess I'll try to drive back tonight. Any other night, I wouldn't risk it." She paused. "Oh, no. What about dinner tomorrow?" Her face fell as she sat down at the table. "Good idea," she said, brightening up a little. "Is Papa going back to get everything set up for Alicia? Good. He knows where I've hidden all her presents, right?"

I sincerely didn't want to eavesdrop, but she was sitting two feet away and wasn't trying to be quiet.

"Yes," she said. "Umm..." she trailed off, and looked up at me. "I don't know, mama. It's Christmas Eve. I can't impose on my friend like that."

I had a good idea what they were talking about, and I made a quick decision. I went into the garage, popped her trunk, and took two overnight bags out. Brittany was at the door as I came back in, and her eyes went wide when she saw what I was carrying. I sat her bags down in front of the stove and grinned at her.

Brittany smiled. "Ok, mama. I'm going to stay here tonight, but I'll be home first thing in the morning."

"Are you sure?" she asked me when she'd hung up.

"Brittany," I said, taking her hands. "I like you. I don't think that's any surprise. I enjoyed everything we did today. Doubt that's a shocker, either. If the weather was good outside and it wasn't Christmas Eve, I'd have asked you to stay over, anyway. But I don't want you driving that rear-wheel pair of ice skates two hours across town tonight."

She smiled widely. 

"I'm glad I met you yesterday," she said, wrapping her arms around my waist burying her face against my chest.

"Me, too," I said, gently stroking her hair. "What happened?"

"The power went out at our house, too," she said. "They're staying at my uncle's house tonight, a little further north. He still has power. My dad is going back tonight to set up the presents for Alicia and the other kids who will be there tomorrow. My mom's friends are telling her how bad the roads are. She didn't want me to drive."

"Smart woman," I said. When we broke apart, I took her hand and started walking back down the hall, but she tugged on my arm.

"Wait," she said. "Aren't you gonna leave milk and cookies out?"

"Um, no," I said. "I keep my milk and cookies to myself."

"Santa Claus doesn't visit greedy people," she chided.

"Hey, milk and cookies are an institution in the Collins household, all right?" I explained. "They're everyone's favorite midnight snack, everyone's favorite dessert. We didn't bake cookies at our house if we didn't have a full gallon of milk."

At least she was laughing.

"Hell, there's even a rumor that milk and cookies might have had a starring role in somebody's first date, oh, I don't know.. how old am I now.. 15 years ago."

Something shifted in Brittany's eyes, and for just a second, she got a wistful expression on her face. It left as quickly as it arrived.

"Still," she said. "Didn't your mama ever teach you to share?"

"Oh, I'm willing to share," I said, writing off the pause as a figment of my imagination. "With any sexy, stranded co-eds standing in my kitchen right now."

She giggled and playfully punched me in the chest. "It's just been tradition in my family, even when we were old enough to know Santa wasn't real, we still put them out."

"Ok," I said. "If you'll share with me now, we'll leave some out."

She beamed at me and grabbed the milk from the fridge as I pulled the cookies down. We each ate a few while we talked about her schooling, my crazy schedule, and how the Rangers had choked in the World Series. As I'd promised, I left half a glass of milk and a plate of cookies on the table.

"You want to watch a movie or something?" I asked, not wanting to watch a movie in the slightest.

"No," she said. "I think it's bed time. But if you don't mind, can I get a shower first? A real shower, with my soap and shampoo, so I can change into clean clothes?"

"Sure," I said, picking up her bags. I walked into my bedroom and put them on the bed. A small part of me wondered if I was getting ahead of myself, assuming she was going to sleep in my bed, but her smile as she started to get undressed told me all I needed to know.

I sat on the bed and opened my laptop as she disappeared into the bathroom. I was looking through flight plan assignments for the new year when I heard the bathroom door open a little while later.

"What do you think?" she asked. I looked up from the computer and my jaw dropped.

She wore a purple TCU T-shirt and gray shorts with the Victoria's Secret PINK logo on the butt. Her hair was out of the ponytail now, hanging down over her shoulders carelessly. It was all I could do to not throw her on the bed and molest her. Every time I moved my eyes I found another part of her I couldn't tear myself away from.

"Kevin?"

"I'm sorry," I said, licking my dry lips. "Am I supposed to say something intelligent with you standing there looking like that?"

"You, Mister, say the nicest things," she said. "And you deserve a reward."

She closed the distance between herself and the bed in record time and leapt on top of me. Our mouths met instantly, and we spent the better part of the next half hour kissing passionately on my bed. Our tongues got involved instantly, and our hands and feet did, too. I was on top for a while, then she was, then we both rolled onto our sides. 

"I take back what I said earlier," I said. "I don't think I ever made out this much even when I was a teenager."

"Me either," she said before pulling me right back in for another kiss. Her hand started wandering, and for the first time since we'd gone back to the bedroom, she moved it down to cup my crotch. I wanted to tap the brakes a little bit, but my hands got curious and started squeezing her ass instead. I was sort of thankful when she rolled off of me and curled up against my side.

"Kevin, you have no idea how turned on I am right now."

"My dick is about to declare war on Calvin Klein," I replied. "So, yeah, I think I kinda do."

She giggled. "Okay then. But, still, I'm thinking..."

"Me too," I said, meaning it. "We just met yesterday, and I've known your name for like six hours now."

"Yeah?"

"And there's this little demon on the pillow, cussing me out and calling me every name in the book and threatening to revoke my man card if I don't do this tonight."




Milk and Cookies



"Yeah, he's yelling at me, too," Brittany said with a laugh. "But the angel on the other pillow is telling me that it kinda likes you."

She was reading my mind. It was a little scary.

"Like... I might really like you. I know, I barely know you, but still."

"You mentioned leaving the milk and cookies out," I said. "Well, in my house, we had a tradition, too. You get to open one or two presents on Christmas Eve..."

"But you have to wait until Christmas to open the big presents," she finished.

We stared at each other for long moment, until we both started laughing.

"Is this conversation a little eerie?" I asked.

"A little," she admitted. "But I'm glad we agree."

"We do. Besides," I whispered in her ear. "Christmas is tomorrow." 

Brittany shot me a "come hither" look that would have torched the neighborhood if there was an open flame nearby. We probably made out for another hour before finally falling asleep.

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

"Merry Christmas."

My brain was trapped under a thick layer of fog, but I was able to vaguely make out a woman's voice coming from nearby. My eyes were only half open, and it was still dark in the room. I couldn't see her, but I could feel her presence next to me on the bed.

I switched on the bedside lamp and turned over, and the memories from the day before rushed back to me as Brittany came into view. I was thrilled to discover that she hadn't been a dream or a figment of my imagination. She was laying right next to me in bed. Her shirt had come off during our makeout session, leaving her topless. Her hair fell over her shoulder and splashed across her naked breasts. She was beautiful.

"You are the best Christmas present ever," I said.

I kissed her. Hard. I forced my tongue into her mouth and, after a little squeal of surprise, hers met it eagerly. My fingers danced across her chest, brushing her nipples with each pass.

"Wow," she said a few minutes later.

"I agree," I replied. "I hope you know this is not how I expected things to happen."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I want to date you, Brittany," I said. "I want to get to know you. God and Mother Nature got together and sped things up a little, and I'm certainly not complaining about everything that's happened. But I didn't ask for your number yesterday so I could get you into bed. I asked so I could take you to dinner."

She had an incredulous look on her face.

"I'm not a bullshitter," I continued. "I'll always be straight and honest with you. I don't want what happened yesterday to give you the wrong impression. I know we haven't been on a real date yet, but if it goes like I think it will, I want there to be another one, and another one after that. If you're not okay with that, now would be the time to say so."

She leaned over and answered me with a long, soft kiss. It wasn't nearly as frantic or heated as most of our other kisses had been, but my toes were still curling when it was over.

"I'm more than okay with it," she said. "I'm friggin' ecstatic. In fact, I'd like to show you just how ecstatic, but..."

She trailed off, and a light bulb clicked on in my brain.

"You're missing Christmas with your daughter," I said, immediately getting out of bed. "We need to get going."

"But the roads--"

"Not every piece of pavement in the Metroplex is closed, Brittany," I said, heading toward the shower. "I have a GPS. I'll find a way."

She sat on the bed, her mouth hanging open. "Wow."

"Wow, what?"

"I'm just surprised it's that important to you, that's all."

"A mother getting to spend Christmas with her daughter? It means a whole lot to me, yeah."

I left her grinning on the bed as I got into the shower. A few seconds later, she pulled the curtains back. She was gloriously naked, and again, I had to fight the urge to throw her down on the floor. She stood on her tippy toes and gave me a kiss.

"You are such a sexy man," she cooed. "Can I come in?"

We both let our hands roam, but we somehow managed to stop things from going further. I washed her, paying special attention to her magnificent breasts and her back, giving both a decent massage in the process. She returned the favor, making sure my cock was nice and clean before she moved on to my legs. All it did was heighten my desire to explore her even further, but more important things took precedence.

"So, I guess that answers that question, then," she said as we dried each other off in the bedroom. I just shot her a quizzical look. "I was going to ask if you'd join my family and I for Christmas dinner today."

"Oh," I said. "Well, I just don't want you driving, Brittany. I would have dropped you off and gone somewhere else for a while. I was not planning to invite myself to your family's Christmas."

"You don't have to, Kevin," she said. "I just did. It's the least I can do after how nice you've been to me, getting me out of the storm yesterday. Plus, I would hate knowing you're spending Christmas by yourself. And besides... I just want you there with me. That's okay, right?"

And with that, my Christmas plans morphed from football and beer to spending an entire day with people I didn't know. I bristled momentarily, thinking about my reasons for turning down Tim's invitation, but then I relaxed. With Brittany around, there was no way I would be in a sour mood.

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

The rest of the day was, to put it lightly, a massive zoo. 

Thankfully, parts of the Interstate were open, so it only took about an hour and a half to make what should have been a 45-minute drive. There were 15 or 20 people at the house when we finally pulled into the crowded driveway. Brittany told me it was pretty much all of the family they had in the area except for her older sister, who was spending the day with her husband's family in south Texas, and one of her older brothers, the one who worked in Denver and was staying there this year. 

Brittany's mom was thrilled to have another guest to feed, making a big production of welcoming me to her house and ordering me to feel at home. With her friendly smile and pleasant demeanor, that was going to be easy.

Her dad was a different story. He was wary of me from the moment I walked in, even through all the presents. It was slightly odd being the only one there with no presents to unwrap, but I was okay with it. My only contribution to the presents at all was the stuffed cat I gave to Alicia, Brittany's daughter. It was an exact replica of Chester. I told her family that a friend had given it to me, but it had actually been a gift from Kira. She knew how much I liked the cat, and she'd taken a picture of him to a toy store one year for my birthday. It was one of the best gifts I'd ever received, but I figured it would be in good hands with Alicia.

Brittany's dad started to warm up to me a little later in the day as we watched college football. We talked a lot of strategy, why the teams were doing what they were doing, etc. He peppered me with questions about the Rangers, and I mentioned that I'd met Kellen Howard, their young first baseman, on several occasions. We also talked about my brief professional baseball career.

I could tell he wanted to ask me about my relationship with his daughter, but he never brought it up. Considering my relationship with his daughter consisted of two chance encounters, two orgasms, one shower and about four hours of tonsil hockey, I wasn't going to bring it up if he didn't. By halftime of the second football game, we were chatting like old friends.

Alicia wasn't quite sure what to make of me, but she was enjoying the day in general. She knew how to give high fives, and anytime I extended my hand, she would dutifully slap it. She grinned at me when I used the stuffed cat to play with her, and I could definitely see the resemblance.

Dinner was, well, there's no nice way to say it. Dinner was fucking fantastic. Ham, stuffing, cranberry sauce, candied yams, and all the rest of the regular Christmas dinner fare was mixed in with some spectacular Tex-Mex cooking. On one plate I had ham, refried beans, deviled eggs and enchiladas. My stomach would likely hate me later, but my taste buds wanted to award me a Nobel Prize.

Throughout it all, Brittany and I made faces at each other. Most of the time they were goofy, humorous faces, but a couple times I caught her staring at me when she thought no one was looking. For my part, I stole a glimpse of her whenever I could. She was just so beautiful. She wore very minimal makeup, and for most of the day, she walked around in pajamas and bunny slippers. Still, whenever I saw her, I wanted to wrap her up and never let her go.

It was quite frankly a little scary to me. Not two days ago I sat in my living room, half-buzzed, telling myself that someday soon I might be able to start dating again. Now here I was, daydreaming about a woman I'd just met and getting a touch romantic. 

I brushed off those thoughts and started helping her mom do the dishes. She protested at first, but I told her I wasn't leaving the kitchen till everything was clean, so she could either accept my help or not. She washed, I dried, and Brittany put things away. The three of us made a pretty good team, and the kitchen was spotless in about a half hour.

Brittany chose that point to tell me about another Christmas tradition in her house, just as her mom started mixing up cookie dough.

"Every year, mama makes a different kind of cookie," she explained. "This year is oatmeal chocolate chip."

"Oooh," I said. "Good choice."

"Oh, but mama, do we have milk?" Brittany asked, sticking her tongue out at me through her pearly white teeth. "Kevin here is a snob. He doesn't eat cookies without milk."

"Hey," I defended myself. "I'm a guest in your house, so I'll take whatever is being offered. Still... if you're going to do something, I say you should do it right."

They both laughed.

"Kevin said he even had cookies and milk on his first date, when he and his family lived in Turkey." Her mom raised her eyebrows at that, but didn't say anything.

"It's true," I said. "A man doesn't forget such a momentous event in his life." 

"Well, I just opened a new gallon a couple of hours ago," her mom said. "You're all set."

"Thank you," I replied. "Thanks for this whole day, really. My plan was to spend Christmas by myself until Brittany showed up. Your family has shown me such great hospitality today, and the food... I think you need to start a restaurant, Mrs. Morgan."

"You're such a sweet man," she said, pinching my cheek. "But it's Mrs. Pacheco. Morgan was the asshole mi hija over there divorced."

The name she'd given me, Pacheco, sounded familiar to me, but I wasn't sure why. Brittany stared at the ground as her mom talked, but when it got quiet, she looked up at me. She was giving me a specific look. Hope, maybe? Anticipation? Anticipation of what? I mean, I'd promised her a Christmas gift, but that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. 

"Well, Mrs. Pacheco, then," I said. "I'm very happy I got to spend the day with your magnificent family. I'm going to go give my regards to Mr. Pacheco, then I need to be going."

"You're going home?" Brittany asked. I could tell she wasn't happy about it. "My car is in your garage."

"I know," I said. "But I need to sleep somewhere tonight."

"You can't drive all the way to Garland tonight, Kevin," she pleaded. "It's way past dark and the roads are still nasty."

"She's right, Kevin," her mom said. "You literally can't, at least not on the freeway. A semi jackknifed on I-30 a few hours ago. It'll be shut down until tomorrow."

"They have side roads," I countered.

"And we have plenty of room here," her mom said with finality. "You'll be sleeping here tonight. Don't argue with me."

"Yay!" Brittany exclaimed, clapping her hands and jumping like a schoolgirl.

"He'll be sleeping in the living room, young lady," her mom said, tossing me a wink as she put the cookies in the oven.

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

It was a little after 11 when Brittany's youngest brother went to bed, leaving she and I as the last two awake. The last of the family had left around 8 or 9 p.m. to head home, and her mom and dad had gone to bed right as the last car was pulling out of the driveway. So, we stood in the kitchen, bonding over a little late-night snack. Her mom's oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, just like everything else she'd cooked today, were outstanding.

"Alicia is the cutest little girl I have ever met, by the way," I said. "I would have known she was your daughter even if you hadn't told me. The resemblance is striking."

"Thank you," she said, looking down into her glass of milk. "She likes you, you know."

"I didn't," I said. "How can you tell?"

"She loves my dad and brothers, of course," she said. "But she isn't really comfortable around most other guys."

"What about her dad?" I asked. 

"She hasn't seen him except on the other side of a bulletproof plexiglass window since she was six months old," she said. "She cries when I take her, and she's the only reason I go visit him. He's there for at least 10 more years before he's up for parole."

"Can I ask what he did?" 

"Pushed me down a flight of stairs," she said. With her tone of voice, she could have been ordering Chinese takeout. "It was right after Alicia was born. We got into a fight about something, and he shoved me into the wall. He did that all the time, and I guess I'd just gotten used to it. We lived in a second-floor apartment, and when I went to leave, he screamed for me to come back. I made it halfway down the stairs before he caught up to me and pushed me the rest of the way down. Broke my right leg and a couple of fingers."

"Son of a bitch," I muttered. I briefly pondered how hard it would be to break into a prison and kill someone, but a comment my mother always made during my teenage years came to mind. 'Son, if a woman wants you to fix something, she'll tell you so. Most of the time, all she wants is for you to listen.' So, I listened.

"That probably wouldn't have landed in him jail, though. I somehow managed to get into my car and drive here, where mama was watching Alicia. She took me to the hospital, and when my ex found out what happened, he wanted to come to the hospital. I wish he'd have made it, because papa would have killed him. Instead, the dumb shit got pulled over for speeding on the way over, and the cops found about 30 kilos of cocaine in his trunk."

"Holy shit," I said. 

"Yeah," she replied. "While he was awaiting trial on that, some girl accused him of raping her a couple years before, right after we got married. I don't know what ever came of that, though. I filed for divorce before I got out of the hospital."

"Wow," I said, pulling her into a hug right there in the kitchen. She wasn't emotional about it at all -- I guess when you have enough time to deal with something, it becomes no big deal. I felt pretty horrible for her, though.

"So, there ya go," she said. "I've dated a few times since then, and the couple guys who did meet Alicia, she wasn't really happy about. She took right to you, though."

"I give good high-five, I guess," I responded, earning a laugh. "My turn."

"Oh, no," she said. "I didn't mean to tell you about that, it just kind of spilled out. You can tell me about your past whenever you want."

"What if I want to right now?" I asked. She blinked, so I moved right on. "I met Kira about a year before I got out of the Marines, when I was back home in Maryland on leave. We got married about a year after I got out. She worked in Washington, D.C. as a lobbyist for an energy company, and I quickly got a job working for an airline based out of Washington Reagan. For the first two years, our marriage was spectacular."

"And then?" Brittany rested her head on my chest as we stood together. If there'd been some Barry White playing in the background, we could have been slow dancing.

"I guess we started to drift a little bit, but I didn't think it was anything out of the ordinary. She was taking trips, I was always on the road, and we just didn't spend as much time together as we used to."

"So what ended it?" she asked.

"I came back from a flight to Las Vegas one night. When I walked off the plane, I turned my cell back on and had about 20 voicemails. The first was from an Associated Press political writer, asking me for a comment on the allegations. I had no fucking clue what he was talking about, so before checking the rest of my messages, I immediately called the guy back."

I think Brittany could sense the hammer coming, so she just stood there in silence waiting for it.

"And he's actually the one who told me that my wife had been cheating on me for the better part of a year."

"Oh, Jesus, Kevin," Brittany said. 

"Yeah," I replied. "Anyway, most of the other messages were from other news people. A few from my friends, and about three from Kira, telling me we needed to talk."

"Wow," she said.

"She told me she'd slept with a few political nobodies in the past, interns or junior aides to this senator or that representative, just trying to earn a few favors. The media started caring about it when she skipped the underlings and went straight to the top. Apparently, someone had video of her in a threesome with a female senator from New Hampshire and her husband."

"Oh, God," she moaned.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure Kira said that exact thing once or twice in the video," I said. It was my attempt to be glib, but Brittany didn't see the humor. Truthfully, neither did I. "Honestly, I have no problems with threesomes. You have yet to really scratch the surface with me, Brittany -- I'm a pretty open-minded, adventurous guy. I have a lot of fantasies. I just can't tolerate being lied to."

"I'm the exact same way," she said into my chest. I wasn't sure which part she was talking about. I was happy either way.

"Anyway, Kira got fired, the senator resigned, and my airline put me on a one-month paid leave of absence due to all the publicity I was getting. That was about nine months ago. It was actually all over the news for about a week. I'm surprised you didn't hear about it."

"Well, there's a lot going on in my life," she said. "And I don't really follow politics too closely. I'm so, so sorry for you."

"Eh, I'm a very firm believer in a couple of things. God works in mysterious ways, and everything happens for a reason. I could have lived without being a political punchline, but honestly, it worked out for the best."

"How so?"

"My current boss, Tim, called me up the day after the airline put me on leave and offered me a job and a paid move out here," I said. "Doubled my salary instantly, and gave me a quick, one-way ticket out of town. Kira begged me for a second chance, told me we could move back to Salisbury, start over, and she'd make it up to me. I figured that maybe if it was just the one indiscretion, as public as it may have been, I could forgive her eventually. Maybe. But as many times as it happened, as many times as she lied to me about it... I just wanted to wash my hands of the whole thing."

She nodded.

"And it's not like our relationship was all wine and roses anyway. She didn't want to have kids at least until she was in her 30s, if ever, and I wanted to start a family pretty much the moment my elbow blew up."

She looked up at me. Tears were lined up on the edges of her eyelids, but she had a shy smile on her lips.

"I know we're not there yet, Brittany," I said. "But that's why you having a daughter doesn't scare me. I've been ready to have kids since the day she and I got married. If things go bad between you and I, it won't be because of Alicia. But if things go like I think they will, I'll want her to be as much a part of it as you are."




Milk and Cookies Ch. 01



Note: This IS a fantasy. Any techniques and practices and results thereof are purely the invention of my twisted imagination.

Chapter 1 - A Taste of Honey

Looking back, I guess this all started at Bob and Sandi's party. Things were going pretty hot and heavy - all the chain stations were in use and the delightful sounds of flogging and orgasmic groans filled the air. 

Bob was waxing Sandi on a tarp-covered cot in the living room and had just invited Michael and I to dip a ladle in the wax color of our choice to add to the lovely design he was building on her delightfully squirming body. 

I noticed that her usually small perfect breasts looked larger, but I attributed that to her excitement. Sandi loved breast play!

"Be careful of her nipples," Bob said. "We don't want to take a chance of burns that would keep her from nursing." 

Not certain of what I had heard, I turned to Bob. "Nursing - but I didn't know Sandi was pregnant!" 

"She's not," he replied, "She's been going to a milk consultant - helping her to make lots of lovely milk. It's just about the sexiest and sensual thing we've ever done!" 

To illustrate, Bob knelt by the cot and ran his fingers gently down the top of her left breast, stopping before he touched the nipple. Sandi moaned and smiled. 

He repeated his gesture several times, then placed his palm under the breast. With his free hand, he pulled on the nipple. It rose and stiffened, then - to my amazement - started to exude a clear, somewhat milky fluid.

He brushed the tip of his tongue over the nipple in a circle, then drew it into his mouth, sucking gently. Sandi was moaning very loudly by now. Bob released her nipple and lifted his head. Drops of the fluid clung to his lips. He kissed her deeply. "More?" he asked. 

"Oh, yes!" Sandi murmured.

"We need to raise the head of the cot, " he said, and he helped Sandi to sit up as the cot was adjusted. 

He reached for a tube of lubricant, and after applying a large amount to his fingers, he inserted two fingers into Sandi's pussy. He watched her face as he moved his fingers inside her. Soon he had three, then four fingers in her as she writhed in pleasure.

He replaced his mouth on her left breast and began to suck. It may have been my imagination, but I though I saw her breast grow larger. He continued to suck as he moved his hand in and out of her pussy. 

She was well into multiple orgasms when he pushed his entire hand into her. He kept his hand motionless and kept his rhythmic sucking motion going. She went into the most intense orgasm I had ever witnessed.

I realized that there was and had been almost complete silence in the room. I had been so absorbed in watching that I was unaware of my own body. My own pussy was dripping wet and I could bet every other woman in the room was also. 

Michael had moved behind me and was kissing and licking the back of my neck. He unlaced my leather top and pushed it down to my waist. He cupped my breasts and brushed his thumbs over my nipples. When I moaned, he nibbled on my earlobe and whispered into my ear, "Now!" 

He led me to an oversize armless padded chair. I ripped apart the snaps on his silk shirt and began to run my tongue over his nipples. He laughed and said, "Let's see if these pants really work!" 

He pulled at the snaps to the left and right of his waist and lowered what I had laughingly called a modesty panel in front. His cock sprang free, beautifully erect. In a few seconds, he had ripped open the snaps on both legs. 

"I need to send them a commendation!" he said as he unsnapped my leather skirt and the remaining snap on my leather top, leaving me standing in only high-heeled thigh-high leather boots and a leather garter belt with black stockings. 

"My God, you look so hot and ready to be fucked! He plunged his fingers into my dripping pussy and licked them off lovingly. 

"I don't think we'll need any lube!" he said as he sat down, spread his legs, and pulled me forward to straddle him. I balanced with my hands on the back of the chair as he pressed me down to where the tip of his cock brushed the entrance to my throbbing pussy. 

"Hold on, " he breathed, as he used both hands to open me up. He had hooked a finger in each side and was gently stretching my tight opening. 

"Slowly, please!" he murmured as I slid onto his cock. To my amazement, I took his full length almost at once. He pulled his legs together to support my bottom. 

I could tell that this was going to be a spectacular fuck. Michael liked his lovemaking long and slow with a lot of talking and what he called his own brand of Tantric sex. That's what had brought us together - first in my response to his ad looking for a Tantric partner, then as live-in lovers.

I began to breathe deeply, to clear my mind of everything except the feeling of his warm, beautiful cock inside me - how I felt to be impaled and taken, pinned almost like a butterfly on a board. 

He brought his left hand to my back, cupping my bottom with one finger on my anus. His right hand was at our joining and his finger found my clitoris. I came almost immediately - a small fluttering orgasm.

"Showoff!" I laughed. 

"Snack!" he said as his mouth found my right nipple. He began to suck gently, his tongue circling as he drew more and more of my breast into his mouth. I have very large breasts, and sometimes I felt as though he had taken the entire mound. 

My pussy muscles responded and soon I was matching the delightful motions of his mouth and tongue in an internal massage. I was rewarded with even more engorgement - he seemed to grow even wider and longer. He pushed the tip of his finger into the opening of my anus and I tumbled into another orgasm.

This one widened and deepened me more. He swelled inside me. Michael switched to my left breast and I began to dissolve into a chain of steadily stronger orgasms. 

Michael was holding me now, his arms wrapped around me. His face was alight with pure joy. He took his mouth from my breast, panting slightly. 

I now became aware that we had been the center of attention, just like Bob and Sandi.

"Great show!" I heard. 

"Well done, old chap!" This from one of Michael's countrymen.

"That was just the appetizer!" Michael rasped, closing his eyes. His throat was dry. Sandi was starting to hand him a glass of water when I saw the glistening droplets on her right breast.

"This might quench his thirst more, if you and Bob are agreeable," I asked. 

Bob and Sandi nodded, and she moved forward to brush her damp nipple against his lips. His eyes flew open immediately and the tip of his tongue emerged, hesitantly. 

Sandi touched the corners of his mouth with her nipple and I felt the shiver go through him. His cock inside me was hard as iron.

"How do I..." he started to ask. 

"Relax your mouth," Sandi instructed as she placed her dripping nipple into his mouth. "Now, run your tongue gently over and around. This helps to make a seal. Then suck very gently." 

Sandi's eyes widened and she moaned slightly. "Very good - you've done this before!" she laughed. 

"I was nursed until I was three," Michael said. "Very old custom in my home village." 

Another mystery from your past, I thought, and how delightful. No wonder you wanted a large-breasted partner.

Michael sucked at Sandi's breast for what seemed like hours. His cock quivered and throbbed inside me. He pushed his knuckle into my anus and began an intense circular motion. He used the thumb of his free hand to rub my clitoris. 

"Allow me," I heard a voice say and his thumb was replaced by a tongue. I felt two mouths close on my nipples. 

I was soon oblivious to everything but my throbbing pussy and nipples. I almost didn't feel the tip of the cool dildo enter my anus. Being filled in both holes sent me totally over the edge and I dissolved into a torrent of sensation.

I woke up in our bed to the delightful smell of coffee and the sight of a fully-dressed Michael. 

"Bad news," he said as he handed me the cup. "I'm hearing for the airport now - being sent to London and will probably be gone at least three weeks." 

He bent to kiss my nipple, his mouth warm from his coffee. He nipped it gently, ran his tongue around it and sucked. 

"I wish...." he murmured. As I moaned from the pleasure, I thought of a perfect welcome home present.



Milk and Cookies Ch. 02



Chapter 2 - A Real Treatment

I met Sandi for lunch and she lost no time filling me in with all the details. She was positive that I would be successful since she had seen a lot of large-breasted women undergoing treatment.

I was still a bit curious as to why, and was astounded to learn that this practice was strictly for life-style women and some men. 

Okay, I was now hooked so Sandi set me up for an appointment and promised to go with me.

The Centre was in a beautiful home in a very nice part of town. After we signed in, we were ushered into a very pretty room with several comfortable chairs, an ornate wardrobe, and what looked like twin-size canopy beds swathed in white, gauzy fabric. A very pretty redhead with a clipboard walked in, greeted Sandi warmly, squeezing her breasts, and hugged me. 

"I'm so glad you are here! Sandi's told me about your experience and how you want to surprise your lover!" she said. 

"If you are not shy...." 

At this, Sandi and I giggled. 

"Sorry, why would I think that?" she smiled. "You can watch Sandi receiving a treatment. My name is Dorian."

"Sounds good," I said, still a little puzzled and nervous. I backed up until my knees felt the nearest chair and sat down, trying to look like I did this every day.

Sandi was already stripping down and in a few minutes was nude. She walked to the wardrobe and took out a short robe, then opened the curtains to one of the beds. It was not a twin bed - it was a medical exam table, complete with a raised head, stirrups, and a few other attachments I had never seen. 

Sandi was positioning herself on the table in the classic mode - a leg in each stirrup and her pussy at the edge of the table. My curiosity about the table won over and I moved to sit in a hard-back chair closer to the action. 

Dorian made what seemed to be some adjustments in Sandi's position, then pulled open a curtain near the back of the table. Several shelves were filled with boxes, each labeled with a number. She consulted her clipboard and removed one of the boxes.

"How are you flowing?" she asked Sandi, starting to examine her breasts. She performed the same gentle finger movements that Bob had used and soon Sandi's nipples were wet and shiny. 

"Lovely response," she said,moving behind Sandi so she could cup her breasts underneath. She brought her thumb and forefingers with some pressure onto each nipple as she massaged the breasts. To my amazement, two streams of milky liquid shot out some distance. 

"We'd better milk you first, to keep the pressure down," she said and opened the box, removing two clear funnel-like objects, a lot of tubing, and what looked like a very weird bra. She helped Sandi to move her legs from the stirrups and sit up. 

Sandi put her arms over her head and leaned forward as Dorian clasped the bra-like garment on. She positioned each of Sandi's breasts into what looked like a cone with the end cut off. The cones had circular and vertical designs and as I half-stood up to look, I saw that the cut end of the cone had a rigid ring. It took a few minutes to get Sandi's breasts positioned. When she sat back, each breast mound was compressed, with the nipple jutting out encircled by the cone opening. 

"Comfy?" Dorian asked. 

"Perfect!" Sandi said. Dorian attached some tubes to each cone, then stepped on a foot pedal. Sandi moaned as the cones began to fill with air. I watched as her breasts were compressed and her nipples started to protrude more from the opening. The milk was starting to leak steadily from her nipples.

Dorian helped Sandi to bend over slightly and placed the larger end of the funnel-like objects over each nipple. She attached a long tube to the smaller end of each. I watched, fascinated, as she pushed the ends of the tubes into what looked like a pump.

She pushed a button on the pump and Sandi's nipples seemed to shoot forward and milk started flowing into the tubes. 

"We got a good seal!" Dorian exclaimed. "Now, let's get you happy!"

She helped Sandi scoot down to the edge of the table and re-position her legs in the stirrups. She then popped a tray up between her legs and at the level of her pussy. 

"Any preferences, sweetie?" she asked. 

"Everything!" Sandi said, smiling at me. 

Dorian pulled an assortment of toys and dildos from the box. She attached a multi-pronged clamp to the edge of the tray and I noticed that each prong was designed to accept a dildo. Dorian attached a small dildo to the lower prong and a larger one to the upper prong. 

She adjusted the position so that they fit Sandi's pussy and anus. She coated them with lube and pushed the tray forward. Sandi gasped as the two oiled dildos slid in. Dorian pressed a button on a remote control and the dildos slid out. Another button and they slid back in. Sandi nodded.

"This is the best part!" 'Sandi said, winking at me. 

Dorian slipped a set of straps around her crotch and waist. The straps ended in a small triangle that fit right on Sandi's clit. Dorian placed a little vibrator in the hole in the triangle and snapped it in place.

Dorian handed Sandi the remote control and Sandi pushed a button. The twin dildos slid smoothly in and out! 

"Watch this!" she said and pressed another button. The dildos started to vibrate.

"Let's test out that clit tickler - Bob came up with this one!" she said as she pressed the button. The little vibrator buzzed. 

"Whoo-hoo! What a ride!", Sandi screamed. "We got the fucking taken care of! Now suck me!" 

Dorian pressed the button on the pump and the milk began to flow from Sandi's breasts.

She was in the throes of multiple orgasms and I envied her! I wanted to strip off my clothes, throw myself on one of those lovely exam tables and .....

Okay, time to come to my senses. Could I really do this...?

I don't know how long it took to empty Sandi's breasts but it seemed to go on forever. When the pump stopped, Dorian wiped Sandi's face with a damp cloth.

"Wasn't that great! Sandi whispered, her voice hoarse with pleasure.

"Great!" I said, hoping I sounded convincing.

"Are you ready for the treatment?" Dorian asked. 

"Bring him on!" Sandi said.

"Him?" I thought. What else could happen?



Milk and Cookies Ch. 03



Chapter 3 - The Threatment Continues

Dorian had everything unhooked in a jiffy. She poured a glass full of Sandi's milk and gave it to her. Sandi downed it quickly. She poured another glass for me - but I shook my head. 

"Sandi, who or what is 'Him'?" I asked. 

"You'll see!" she said, with a wide grin. 

"Are you ready for me?" called a deep, slightly accented voice. 

The owner of the voice came into view. I almost gasped. This had to be one of the most gorgeous hunks of male flesh I had ever seen (sorry, Michael). He had tanned skin and sandy brown hair almost down to his waist. His face was classic - and the rest of him, oh my! He was completely nude and hung magnificently! 

His balls looked to about the size of tennis balls and his cock was among the largest I had ever seen. He was erect, and the tip of his cock was about the level of his belly button. I thought that it would take both my hands to go around it.

He bowed, and came to where I was standing. Kneeling on one knee, he took my hand, kissed it like it had never been kissed before, then turned my hand palm upward and planted a knee-knocking French kiss on my wrist.

I think I had an orgasm. I hope I concealed it.

"I am Alex. I hope you will be joining us," he said. I'm certain I stammered something intelligent.

He released my hand, rose and went to Sandi. Standing at the side of the table, he gathered her into his arms and kissed her deeply. His hands moved over her body with great familiarity. 

His fingers trailed from her breasts down to her pussy and he slipped several fingers inside her. As she began to writhe in pleasure, his mouth fastened on a nipple.

"Yum!" he said as he tugged at her swollen nipple. "Just enough left for a good taste." 

As I watched he moved between her legs and guided his enormous cock into her pussy. I could tell she was having trouble taking him. He moved her legs farther apart and pulled a folded towel under her butt. He pulled his cock out and pushed it back it farther this time. 

I had to give him points for gentleness. Each time he pushed just a bit more and played with her clit. With her first orgasm she took him in even more.

Dorian moved to the head of the table and placed what looked like a gel-filled plastic bag on each breast. She attached some tubing to each and trailed it over to another machine. She punched a button and the bags begin to quiver and pulse, massaging her breasts.

"This stimulates the milk glands," Dorian said for my benefit. "This, and the food supplements. Actually, you'll find that you lose weight because milk production needs fat."

I wanted to discuss the technical details in more depth, but a shuddering moan from the couple at the table caused me to look at them. He had lifted Sandi off the table and was impaling her on his cock. Sandi was sliding down his huge pole. I watched as her butt bounced on his balls. 

Then, to my utter astonishment, he put a hand on each butt cheek and raised her up slightly, then let her slide back down. Her head was thrown back and her cries of "Yes, yes, deeper...fuck me deeper!" were making me very wet. 

I hoped that the thin white slacks I wore would conceal my sopping panties.

He had placed Sandi back on the table, her legs on either side of his neck. He was now sliding in and out of her with ease, in a rhythm that was almost hypnotic. Sandi was deep into multiple orgasms, her entire body rippling. 

With a hoarse cry, his body stiffened and his thrusts became harder. He must have spurted gallons into Sandi's overstretched pussy since his cum started leaking out almost immediately.

He started to pull himself out of her dripping pussy. I was impressed that he still looked hard and ready.

He was - and he plunged back in. I realized that these two were going to go for a considerable time.

Dorian tapped me on the shoulder and motioned to a curtained-off area on the far side of the room.

"Let's talk there," she said. 

"Is it okay to leave them alone?" I asked. 

"Yes, they'll go at it for at least another hour," she said, "until she wears him out!"

"Is he part of the standard treatment?" I questioned.

"You can choose - we have a number of attendants - male and female - and you don't have to chose intercourse. We have a number of inventive toys to accomplish the same ends," she explained.

Okay - this was starting to sound reasonable - well, no, it wasn't - but my curiosity was up.

"Why don't you let me examine you and make some recommendations?" she suggested. "I know you'd like to get out of those wet panties. I can wash and dry them for you."

"It shows that much?"

"Honey, I stopped wearing underwear after my first day here!" 

I laughed and felt much more relaxed. I started removing my clothes. Dorian let out a slight "wow" when I removed my bra.

"I couldn't tell you were this big," she said. "You are magnificent. May I?"

"Of course, " I said, laughing to conceal my nerves. She touched my breasts tenderly, hefting their weight and feeling the contours. She brushed her thumbs over my nipples and waited for a reaction. My nipples stiffened and lengthened as she pulled them. 

"You are used to a lot of nipple play," she noted. 

"My lover designed some special clamps - almost a temporary piercing," I explained. "I hope the piercing didn't damage anything."

"Probably not. I've had ladies in here with triple-pierced nipples who did just fine." 

My brain was trying to figure out triple-piercing logistics when Dorian pressed her mouth to my right nipple.

I must admit a tiny thrill went through me. Michael, for all his gentleness, sometimes treated them like chew toys. Dorian's lips and tongue were like butterfly kisses. 

The thrilling sensation increased when she ran her tongue slowly and delicately over the tip and started to pull it into her mouth. I felt the nipple stiffen and grow long. She pulled more of it into her mouth, much as Michael did, but she was starting a rhythmic sucking.  

I felt a tug deep in my pussy. Dorian placed her hand at the base of my spine and massaged that delicate triangle. To my amazement, I came and came hard.

"Wow!" was all I could manage. Dorian ran her tongue around my nipple again and slowly released it. 



Milk and Cookies Ch. 04



Chapter 4 - Opening Up To The Experience

My knees were definitely not going to hold me up. Dorian helped me onto the exam table.

"Take a few deep breaths and rest a minute," she advised. "If you've never nursed a child, you have probably never felt that intense connection between breast and womb. It's all a matter of technique. I can teach you so you can teach your lover - or you can bring him here."

I explained to her what I wanted to do for Michael. Could I get there in three weeks?

Yes, there was a way, she had explained. An accelerated series of treatments. It had apparently taken Sandi almost six months. However, I thought her "attendant's" equipment may have had something to do with it.

After what Dorian and I had just experienced, the rest of the initial exam seemed almost normal. She had me lie face-down on a slanted board and adjusted the openings so that my breasts hung down. 

She busied herself mixing some concoction in a large tank. She pulled on each nipple and applied suction. My nipple felt like it was four inches long. She attached a very tight clamp and removed the suction. The nipple ached and throbbed. 

"This will be over in just a minute. We need to get a good impression," Dorian said, noticing my discomfort. She moved the tank under the slanted board and pushed the board forward to immerse my breasts in the tank. It was cool and felt like Jello. She ran her fingers up and down my spine. "Relax! Just two more minutes!" 

She pushed the board back and my breasts pulled free of the gel. Dorian used a wet towel to wipe off the gel and massaged cream into the breasts. She must have measured every inch of my upper body. 

"We'll make two milking bras for you - one to keep and here and one for you to take home," she explained.

"Time to assume the position," she grinned and proceeded to use some unique tools to measure the width and depth of my pussy and anus. She was astounded that I was so very, very tight. 

After asking about Michael's equipment and the toys we used, she used a series of dildos to stretch me wider and deeper. I was very impressed with the series of multi-pronged clamps that could hold dildos at the right angle and height. 

When I asked why, she said that they had found that the treatments worked best when the pussy was stretched very wide and opened as deep as possible. "Just like giving birth," I ventured.

"Yes," she said. "There seems to be a very deep primal response to the stretching and deep penetration."

"So, the faster we can get me 'opened', the better chance this will work?" I asked. 

"Yes, without a doubt."

"Okay, do you have anything that approximates our enthusiastic young stud?" I ventured.

Dorian held up the longest, fattest dido I had ever seen. "Made from life," she offered, "Want to try it?"

I nodded. She dipped her hand in a jar of lube and coated it thoroughly. She dipped her hand in the jar again and inserted three fingers into my pussy and worked the lube well into its walls. She pulled her hand out and came back in with four fingers. 

Once again, rubbed the lube in well. She withdrew her fingers and re-inserted her hand. I shuddered at the sensation and she told me to push down, like I was giving birth. 

Well, I wasn't quite sure what to do but I guess it worked. I could feel her open her hand inside me as she oiled me up. 

I could feel myself tightening up. She used her free hand to play with my clitoris and brought me to orgasm. Her hand slipped out easily. 

"Are you ready for the 'Terminator'?" she laughed. "I just need to check one more thing." 

With this, she applied more lube to her fingers and inserted them into my pussy. 

"I need to find your G-spot."

"Good luck," I said. "Many have tried but none have succeeded."

"Never lost one yet," she grinned as she probed. I jumped. 

"Aha, there it is! Not in the usual place, but then, what is usual?"

Dorian rubbed the spot in a circular motion. I felt a delicious sense of calm and well-being radiate from the motion. The circles came back to the center with force and I came hard.

"Ok, we can mark that spot with an X!" I was still tingling. 

She held up the Terminator, re-coated it with lube, and fixed it onto a prong. She pressed it to my pussy opening. I felt the huge tip stretching the skin.

"Relax, and breathe in rhythm - in for two counts, out for two counts. Focus your mind on opening your body to pleasure."

Slowly, I managed to take the first four inches.

"You don't mind anal play, do you?" Dorian asked. 

"Love it," I said.

In a jiffy, I felt something tease at my anus and felt a strong squirt of lube. This was follow by a fat, soft dildo with a spongy feel.  Dorian worked this in and out.

This combination worked - my pussy opening stretched and I took in another three inches. 

"Good going," Dorian exclaimed. "You're almost halfway there! I'm going to set this for three short strokes and one long stroke." She did something with the table and I felt the first of the three strokes.

She had now moved to the head of the table. She picked up my breasts from underneath, just as she had done Sandi's and massaged them. She timed this to coincide with the three short stroke. On the long stroke, she used her thumb and forefinger to press and elongate my nipples.

The giant dildo was slipping further into me. She had adjusted the angle perfectly to hit my elusive G-spot. I was soon lost in a delight of orgasms. 

My nipples seemed to have grown enormously and were so sensitive that the warmth of Dorian's hands was sending me into ecstasy.

"You did it!" I heard her say - I seemed to be struggling through a fog. "You ate the whole thing - all 16 by 12."

"I can't believe it," I said. Dorian held a mirror where I could see the dildo continuing its three short and one long. It slid into and out of me smoothly. An unbelievable sight. Another round of orgasms hit.

"You ready to slow it down?" she asked. 

"Oh yes!" I panted. "I'm going to be too sore to walk for a month!"

She slowed the strokes to all deep and very slow. "We want to give your muscles a chance to adjust to the size."

"And," she said, moving back to my breasts, "you produced a little bit of fluid." She held the mirror so I could see the milky droplets on each nipple.

"You are going to do just fine. If you do all the exercises, I think you'll be producing by the end of the week. We'll have your milking bra ready and everything else you need ready tomorrow. I'm sending you home with a lot of reading material."

More like an entire library. I left the place with two giant bags, the giant dildo, a ton of reading material, and every-other-day appointments. 

Sandi helped me carry the stuff to the car. We were both having real trouble with balance - hard to do when you can't put your legs together. 

Once home, all I wanted was a long, soak in the tub. I sighed as I lowered my well-stretched and fucked pussy and ass into a steaming hot bath. The hot water felt delicious on my sensitive breasts.

"Michael," I thought, "You have no idea of what I'm doing for you!"

I dutifully popped a handful of the special vitamins, washing them down with a can of the liquid supplement. I crawled over to the bed, plumped all the pillows behind my back, and began to read about the program.

My exercise schedule called for three one-hour sessions daily with Mr. Terminator. I was advised that the best way to tame him was to lube myself up and squat over him. I had visions of a 911 call if I got stuck. 

While I was "handling" Big Boy, I was supposed to wear the milking bra and hook up the pump. This way going to be way more than I could handle by myself. I accidentally knocked it off the bed - it looked so massive that I couldn't believe I had gotten the whole thing inside me.

I called Sandi and told her she was on Terminator duty. She didn't have a problem with that at all.

"When do you pick up your bra and pump?" she asked. 

"They're supposed to be ready tomorrow," I said. "Talk to me about your gorgeous hunk of man-meat."

"At first he was just a live dildo," Sandi began, "But now I really think there's something there."

I didn't say anything.

I popped into the Centre the next day to pick up my stuff. Dorian fitted my bra and showed me how to put it on and hook it up to the pump. I was lost almost immediately, but I smiled and nodded and hoped I look competent.

Another job for Sandi. 

I was naked and had everything spread out on the bed at home when Sandi walked in. "I knocked but I guess you were too busy - good thing I have a key!" 

Sandi reached for the Terminator, smiling. Then, she sighed and put it down. She picked up the bra, flipped it around and over and had it on me in a flash. "It takes a few times to get it on right. I don't mind helping!"

She hooked up the pump; then unhooked it and watched as I fumbled through it. We finally got me harnessed up.

She suggested we get on the bed for the next event. I think she took some delight in slowly lubing me up, then caressing that giant dong and bathing it in lube. She pressed the tip into my opening and, of course, I was much too tight. She had the answer for that one.

"Did Dorian find your G-spot?" she asked. 

"Oh, yes, she certainly did," I answered. 

Sandi lubed up her hand and went hunting. She starting massaging the spot with a circular motion, just like Dorian, with the same results. Mr. Terminator went in nicely and we managed four inches.

Sandi hit the switch on the pump and my nipples felt like they were going to be sucked through the tubes. The milking bra cups massaged each mound. 

The Terminator claimed another three inches. Sandi suggested that I try the squat technique. With a lot of giggling and falling over, we finally managed. Or, that is to say that I managed to "swallow" our friend. 

We got more droplets this time. Sandi licked them off and gave me a taste. 

"Like sugar water, with a hint of almond," I commented. "A very good year!" 

"My turn!" Sandi yelled as she took our main man to the sink to give him a good scrubbing. As she bent over, her breasts started leaking copiously. 

"Is that uncomfortable?" I asked.

"Yes, I need to pump soon or I'll start dripping." 

We headed back to the bed with our clean toy. Sandi lubed him and herself up with a practiced hand and took almost the whole length at once.

Her breasts squirted milk into her lap and onto me. 

"Sorry, just one of the hazards!" she said as she reached for her pump.

"Sandi, may I.....would you mind....." I stammered. In answer, she motioned me to lie down beside her and moved up on the bed until her nipple was near my mouth. 

"Relax your mouth, now open ....touch me with your tongue...circle the nipple....take more of the breast into your mouth........now suck gently...."

The taste was exquisite - and totally different from mine. Sandi was moaning as she moved the giant dildo in and out. 

I sucked harder and she whispered, "Fuck me....." I placed my hand over hers on the dido and continued the motion. She removed her hand and pulled hard on her unoccupied nipple. Her milk spurted out.

Needless to say, we spent the afternoon in bed and managed to get in the other two of my sessions. I drained her other breast.

Dorian was well-pleased at my appointment the next day. We pumped a half ounce from each breast. She advised me to double up on the vitamins and supplements and to nurse from Sandi whenever possible. 

As we were finishing up my treatment, Sandi's muscle man walked in, this time wearing a robe, to hand Dorian a message. 

Dorian excused herself and asked Alex to help me off the table. 

"I understand you opted for a pale imitation of me," he grinned, as he began massaging my feet and legs. "Too bad, I help make good milk - lots of milk!"

"I'm sure you do, my dear!" I said, wincing as his fingers found a sore spot. "After your ...ah, performance with Sandi, I'm not sure I could keep up!"

"I like to go with the lady," he said, looking straight into my eyes with the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen. That did it, plus the fact that his talented fingers had just loosened a muscle knot in my calf that had plagued me for months.

"You're doing fine right now. I am a massage slut," I said. 

He took off the robe and reached for a bottle of oil. 

Okay, reality check. Here I was - totally naked - with a romance-cover warrior preparing to slide his oiled hands all over my body and with a willingness to slide his magnificent cock into me. 

He treated me like a precious jewel. I don't think there was an inch of my body that was not massaged and explored. When he entered me me at last, I was deliciously wet and open. In two thrusts, I felt his balls bang against my butt.

He brought me through a torrent of shuddering climaxes and was still rock-hard when he picked me up and carried me to an oddly-shaped bench. He sat down and turned me to face away from him, pulling me back until he impaled me on his cock. 

He then proceeded to massage my breasts, stomach, and pussy. I could feel him rubbing his own cock through my pussy. He held me like this for a long time, keeping me in continual orgasms. 

I had now learned to take a taxi to and from my treatment sessions. Driving with a wide open and sore pussy was not fun! 

But, thanks to both Sandi and Alex, by the end of the second week I was producing enough milk to require milking at least twice a day. And, I was losing weight. 

I was counting the hours until Michael came home!



Milk and Cookies for Santa



Here's my annual Christmas story...as usual a few months late! Oh well, helps keep that Christmas spirit alive!

Hope you enjoy - please let me know your thoughts on this story, both pro and con! AS always, the usual disclaimers - this is a work of fiction and characters are wholly of my imagination! Enjoy!




I suppose there are some buzz-kills that will roll their eyes, hearing that as long as I can remember, I've left Santa Claus a special snack – usually some of Mom's sugar cookies and a glass of milk before I went to bed on Christmas Eve. It's tradition! Even as I grew older and came to realize Daddy was Santa...or at least, my Santa. I've left milk and cookies on the little table next to my father's easy-boy lounger. Daddy always encouraged me, giving me subtle reminders as I reached my teenage years and sometimes almost went to bed without leaving Santa his snack. 

It was a ritual that Daddy really seemed to enjoy. Of course, Christmas and the holidays always brought out Daddy's sentimental side. He loved the family traditions of reading "The Night before Christmas" and decorating the tree and playing his old Christmas records with all those now dead crooners telling us it was "beginning to look a lot like Christmas." I was the youngest of his three kids – seven years younger than my next oldest sibling, my brother James and nine years younger than my older sister, Tina. As my siblings got older and began to pull away from family, I was the one Daddy turned to more and more to help him carry on the usual Christmas customs.

And to be honest, I enjoyed being the center of attention more and more – being acclaimed by one and all as Daddy's "little girl. Our relationship at Christmas became even more important as first Tina and then James left home. Tina married her high school sweetheart and moved from Ohio all the way across the nation to Southern California, settling down to raise four kids of her own. Falling in love with the climate, Tina is adamant about not visiting home in winter, loving her warmth and sunshine.

James joined the Air Force and most years has been stationed somewhere else when the holidays come. A self-proclaimed skirt chaser, he prefers to spend the holidays on leave chasing women. As a result, since I was eleven, I've been Daddy's salvation when it comes to making Christmas a family event.

In a way, I'm glad. When puberty hit and I began to grow into a young woman – things begin to grow a bit distant between my father and me. It really wasn't intentional, but I think as I started to develop boobs and curves, Daddy took a step back from me, holding me at arms length most of the time. The many hours of sitting in Daddy's lap as we watched Christmas specials and countless versions of "A Christmas Carol" evolved into Daddy sprawled out on his lounger and me sitting safely several feet away.

Despite that distance, it was Christmas time when Daddy and I seemed to connect the most – putting aside our growing differences in the spirit of the holidays. Mom and I talked about it many times...the Christmas connection and the obvious gulf between us that I suppose most girls and their fathers have – fights about clothes and boyfriends and curfews and all the restrictions that a teenager feels their parents are shackling them with.

Mom tried to be supportive for me and she was, even though I thought she took Daddy's side too much of the time. "Get real, Erica," she would tell me. "You'll always be your father's sweet little girl. It's hard on him to suddenly realize you've got tits and great legs and are maybe having sex with the Smith boy who used to deliver the paper!"

I would blush when Mom would get so frank. One thing about my mother was she never pulled her punches. And what she said was true. By the time I hit high school I had a woman's body – breasts that finally seemed to level off at a 38C cup and long shapely legs that looked good in short skirts and high heels. Add all that to long, black hair and a cute face and you'll understand that I never lacked for attention from the boys. And Mom was right in that I didn't waste any time experimenting sexually. Of course, that leads me right back to the tension that emerged between Daddy and me.

Aside from arguments about outfits that were too short, too tight or showed too much cleavage, there were um...occasional incidents that pushed Daddy and me apart. Daddy opening the front door to discover the Smith boy not only French Kissing me, but with his hand up under my sweater, copping a feel. Daddy turning the flashlight on the Smith boy's car parked in front of the house after my curfew to find me topless with my hand wrapped around the Smith boy's erect cock.

The worst incident didn't even involve a boy. It was the summer after I graduated from high school. Mom had gone shopping and Daddy was supposed to be at work. I was shaving my pussy in preparation for skimpy swimsuit season and was doing it in my parent's bathroom – Daddy having installed a huge three-sided mirror for Mom a few years before.

So there I am, naked, sitting on the edge of the tub with my legs spread wide, razor in hand having almost finished when Daddy walks unexpectedly into the bathroom. I don't know how long we both just stared silently at each other in shock, but it was long enough for Daddy to get a real good look at his eighteen year old daughter's tits and bald cunt and long enough that despite the terrified expression on his face, my father popped a significant boner in his pants.

Daddy only retreated after I screamed, "Daddy, get out and close the fucking door!" He retreated with a red face, an erection, muttering apologies as he went. He didn't even stay in the house. I could hear his car door slam and him roll out of the driveway in a rush.

Later that evening, I could hear him arguing with Mom about it. I only caught snatches of conversation, but the gist of it was he was worried about what I was into if I was shaving my bush and Mom was laughing and telling him not to worry about – that she'd done the same thing when she was my age and that it was more about appearances than about sex.

It ended with neither of us speaking to each other for over a week and both of us blushing whenever we were in the same room. Even after things settled down, there were flare-ups like the following Christmas as we opened presents, there was a gift certificate from Mom for a bikini wax at a local salon. She laughed her ass off and Daddy and I went around red-faced on Christmas Day unable to look at each other.

One other thing came out of that. I suddenly became aware that I did in fact turn my father on. I lost count of how many erections I noticed Daddy having when I was around. It was both amusing and unsettling. I would come downstairs, dressed in a tight and short party dress, going out clubbing with my friends and there would be Daddy, sitting in his lounger, pretending to not notice, but still popping a tent in his pants. Or, I'd come in from sunbathing in a teeny bikini in the back yard and there Daddy would be, looking rather guilty and flushed and sporting an obvious erection in his trousers.

I mentioned it to one of my best friends, Dana, but she just laughed and said her father was the same way. She said that like her dad, my father probably wasn't getting laid enough and there was probably some truth to that. Mom had been forced to undergo a hysterectomy when I was sixteen due to ovarian cancer – she'd recovered, but she confided in me that her sex drive just evaporated and had never come back. Of course, this didn't make me feel any better. I assumed that Daddy probably masturbated to relieve his needs and the thought that I might be providing his imagination with images tended to weird me out.

That might have been one of the reasons that I decided after a year in a local community college to transfer to the University of Ohio, almost one hundred miles away. There were other reasons – I broke up with the Smith boy when I found out he was two-timing me with Dana. I know it almost broke Mom's and Daddy's hearts to see their last chick leave the nest...almost, I still came home for holidays and yes, I still went along with Daddy's traditions including leaving out milk and cookies for Santa..

That brings us to this Christmas, me now twenty-one and feeling very worldly and mature. The tensions between Daddy and me were the same as ever as I picked up on when I hugged him when I first came through the door. I'd flung my arms around him to hug him and as I pressed my body against his, I could literally feel him jerk his hips back, avoiding contact in the chest and thigh region as much as possible.

During the first few days I was home, he had a lot of trouble looking me in the face, although I quickly picked up on a lot of sneaking glances my way. I was very much into tight fitting, scooped neck sweaters and dresses made of jersey material that were both warm (almost like flannel) and very, very clingy. We barely spoke at least until Christmas Eve afternoon while we were all sitting at the kitchen table when I asked to borrow Mom's car for a party that evening.

Mom was already reaching for her keys while Daddy's face fell and he said, "You mean you're not staying home tonight?" His voice was thick with disappointment.

"Uh, no. There's a party tonight at Dana's. A lot of my old classmates will be there that I haven't seen in a long time."

"But it's Christmas Eve, Erica!" Daddy said, scowling at me

I rolled my eyes as I anticipated another long battle in the never ending conflict between father and daughter. "Daddy – get real. I'm twenty-one years old. I'm getting a little old to hear "The Night before Christmas, and if I have to hear Perry what-his-name again, I may bang my head against the wall till I'm unconscious."

Daddy began to sputter, but Mom reached out and put her hand over his and smiling sadly, shook her head. "Erica is right, honey. She's not our little girl anymore."

"But...but, its Christmas," Daddy said, the heat fading from his voice. He looked at me in such a sad way that I felt almost guilty, as if I'd hit him below the belt. "Family should be together at Christmas." He looked at both of us. Despite my sudden pangs of guilt, I rolled my eyes again while Mom patted his hand and slowly shook her head. As she handed me her car keys, Daddy just sighed and got up and walked out of the room.

I guess I was the one who looked distressed then because Mom squeezed my hand and said, "Its okay, Erica. He'll get over it – it had to happen sooner or later."

I nodded and looked down, suddenly wanting to cry. It was beginning to hit me that I had just hurt Daddy's feelings badly. Before I could give it more thought, maybe change my mind, Mom got me off track by asking, "A party at Dana's? I thought you and she were on the outs after she stole the Smith boy from you."

I shrugged and replied, "That's a long time ago. I'm over it and it'll be fun to see folks again."

Mom frowned a bit. "Well, they're your friends. I don't know about Dana. She and the Smith boy still are together, but I hear she's gotten a bit wild. You behave tonight."

I laughed and promised to keep the partying to a minimum and went upstairs to get ready. When I came down to leave, Mom was in the kitchen, the smell of baking cookies filling the air. As I went to the hall closet to retrieve my coat, I ran into Daddy, still looking glum, but not so glum that I didn't notice his eyes crawling up and down my body. I was wearing a wine colored velvet dress that clung to me like a second skin with a low cut front that offered up a fine view of my breasts enhanced by the push-up bra I was wearing. A hemline that stopped an inch or two south of my crotch showed off my long and toned legs, enhanced by three inch stiletto heels. 

"You won't change your mind, Erica?" Daddy asked glumly as he stared at me. "I've got all the good old albums out and Mom's making cookies for Santa."

I could feel Daddy's eyes slowly crawling over my shapely butt as I reached into the closet for my winter coat. "No, Daddy," I replied. I turned around, feeling myself blush just a little as Daddy's eyes rose up from my partially bared breasts to look forlornly into my eyes. Out of habit, I took a glance down as well and sure enough, there was a noticeable tent in Daddy's khaki slacks. Not for the first time did it send weird tremors through me – not revulsion, but just weird.

"I'll try to not stay out too late, Daddy," I said, hearing the lameness in my voice. My coat on, I stepped up to my father and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, Daddy."

Daddy caught me by surprise, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me in for a hug. As my body, not quite bundled up in my winter jacket, pressed against my father – I felt an odd tingle run through my body. We hadn't had much affectionate contact since the bathroom incident and it felt both weird and good to have Daddy holding me tight.

"Merry Christmas, baby," Daddy replied, his voice so filled with sadness, it nearly broke my heart. "His arms tightened around me a little, pulling me closer and I stifled a squeal as I felt his boner pressing against my thigh while he said added, "I reckon my little girl is all grown up now." He let me go and gave me another sad smile. "Be careful out there tonight – call if you need to."

I was at a loss for words, feeling both ashamed that I was abandoning my father on his favorite night of the year and a little stunned that I'd felt my daddy's hard cock – an experience that was going to take a while to process. A quick glance down told me Daddy's erection was still there, pressing prominently against his slacks. I had to get out of there and so I meekly waved goodbye and fled out the door.

Once I was in Mom's car, letting it warm up, I gradually calmed down. It wasn't easy. I felt bad about bailing on Daddy – bad enough that I had to fight back tears. And there was recurring images of the bulge in Daddy's pants...a big bulge the more I thought about it. I began trying to picture my father's cock – angry and aroused and that reignited those tingles I'd had when he was hugging me – tingles that centered between my legs, moistening my labia – making me, well, horny! My nipples, already hard from the cold air, swelled more to the point of aching.

I hit the steering wheel in frustration and muttered, "Fuck this!" and started up her car and drove away. I tried to banish all the thoughts of Daddy and my guilt and replace them with the possibilities Dana's party offered. I decided that I needed to get laid and maybe there would be some old classmate that would be happy to oblige me.

Alas, the party turned out to be pretty much a disappointment. There were several old classmates there – the ones who'd never really gotten over high school – the guys whose glory days had been on the high school gym floor or on the football field and who were already resembling their father's with premature beer bellies and come on lines that had been lousy back in our school days. I discovered that I had indeed gotten over the Smith boy and my best friend's betrayal – laughing and joking with them throughout the night.

Since I was driving, I only had a couple of beers – danced with several guys for the sake of dancing and was actually considering calling it quits and going home when things began to get hazy and weird – the music getting louder, the lights evolving into muted glows and people's faces and bodies getting all distorted and strange – voices slowing down or speeding up. I felt hot and sweaty, dizzy and a bit nauseous and the last thing I remembered was trying to get to a bathroom because I was pretty sure I was going to throw up and then things went black...

I dreamed – strange and bizarre dreams. Heavy metal Christmas carols blared from holes in walls. I sat on Santa's knee while he asked me lewd questions in regards to whether I'd been naughty or nice this year. Daddy, wearing a Santa hat and nothing else, sporting a monster cartoon sized erection went back and forth holding a plate of cookies and then a small, squat elf spread my legs and began licking my pussy, pausing to comment on how much he/she liked my bald clam. The elf knew how to eat pussy though and soon I felt myself approaching orgasm...

...and woke to find Dana – my former best friend for life kneeling between my spread thighs, lapping my cunt enthusiastically! I was on a large bed, my dress yanked up around my waist, panties missing and my legs draped over the side as Dana ran her tongue up and down my bare pussy – her face smeared with pussy juices. The lights were still dim and muted and things felt out of sorts – as if I was still maybe in a dream state. Shadows beyond Dana approached and became the Smith boy, his once familiar cock, erect and almost slapping against his stomach – a lusty leer etched on his face.

Dana paused and glanced over her shoulder. "She's as wet as I can make her, lover," she panted – starting to ease back to make room for him. Several things became instantly clear in my mind. I was disappointed that Dana left me on the edge of orgasm. I was astounded that I actually enjoyed a woman's mouth on me. I was hugely pissed with the realization that these two assholes had dosed me with something – one of those date rape drugs!

The Smith boy took hold of his cock, stroking it as he approached me, grinning that shit-eating grin he always had when he was about to get his rocks off. I felt my hips flex in anticipation – my need to orgasm was great and I had some fond memories of the two of us losing our virginities to each other. My desire to orgasm however was overridden by my anger and I shifted my leg and kicked the asshole in the balls as hard as I could!

As the Smith boy dropped to the floor, curling up as he cupped his testicles, moaning softly, I awkwardly sat up, my head spinning as I moved, feeling as if I was moving through molasses. I stood unsteadily on my feet and came face to face with Dana – a stunned expression warring with one of anger on her face. She was naked as well, her face glistening with my juices, her apple sized breasts, firm and attractive in a way I never considered before.

"You dumb bitch," I hissed, my voice sounding as if it was underwater. "If you'd fucking asked, I would've said yes!" As she mouthed words, lost in the swirl that was my mind, I threw a punch at her – my fist moving in what seemed like slow motion, but which she seemed to stand still for – blood spurting from her nose as my knuckles slammed into her face. She sort of floated down onto her butt, looking shocked as she brought hands up to her nose.

I tugged my dress down to cover my slick and quivering pussy, glancing around in vain for my panties. "Forget you know me, you fucking twat and tell 'loverboy' here," I said, rearing back and kicking the Smith boy in the balls again, "that he better start running if he sees me coming. Next time, I'll use Daddy's gun and blow his nuts off!" 

Still dizzy, despite my fury doing some good in clearing my head, I staggered out of the room, amazed I could keep my balance on high heels. I made it downstairs – feeling as if everyone was staring at me – and as I struggled to pull on my coat and spied my reflection in the hallway mirror, I suppose they might have been. I looked like some sluttish whore trolling for business – my hair messed up and nipples obviously erect against the material of my dress.

Outside, the frigid air did much to wake me up, but it was still a long and slow drive home as my head continued to fuzz out and I had to resist again and again the urge to put a hand between my legs and finger myself to that long denied orgasm. To this day, I haven't a clue as to what they'd dosed me with, but it left me feeling both spaced and horny! I stopped twice, pulling over to the curb to roll down the window and clear my head – unable to resist caressing my breast, teasing my swollen nipples until the lights of a passing care roused me back to alertness and resume my journey home.




Milk and Cookies for Santa



It was just passed midnight when I pulled into the drive. I sat for a few minutes, preparing myself in case Mom and Dad were still up and started in on questions. As I had done many times in my teenage years, I very quietly unlocked the front door and tried to silently open and close the door. My head was still spinning as I did so. I shucked off my winter coat and draped it over a chair in the hall and then slipped out of my heels. Slowly I padded down the hallway, freezing in place as I reached the banister and heard my parents talking in the living room. 

I glanced that way and could see Dad with his back to me, sitting in his lounger – Perry and Bing playing on the stereo. Mom was standing at his side, rubbing the back of his neck and being sympathetic...sort of. "You might as well face facts, honey. She's all grown up now – you're more likely to get a blow job from Erica than to get her to be your little girl. It would be a hell of a lot better treat than milk and cookies!"

My eyes went wide at Mom's lewd remark even as Daddy made a sort of guffaw laugh. I shouldn't have been surprised. Mom was always saying things like that – semi-naughty, risqué humor that seemed to be all that was left of her libido. I felt a shiver run the length of my body, emanating outward from my still aroused pussy. Even the ribald humor of my mother tickled the fancy of my drugged sex drive.

Daddy let out another long suffering sigh and then shifted the focus of his conversation. "Speaking of blow jobs, it is Christmas, Evvie..." He let the rest go unsaid.

Mom gave a sigh of her own. "We've been over that, John. I'm done with all that. I'm not going to pretend I enjoy it, even for your sake. Get on the computer and watch some porn and jack off if you want...or ask your grown up daughter for a blowjob when she gets home. You've got a better shot at it with Erica than me."

Daddy laughed again and I started to giggle, but clamped a hand over my mouth before any sounds got out...or so I hoped. I quickly and quietly slipped up the stairs and crept into my bedroom. I collapsed onto the bed – not bothering to undress as the room began to whirl around me. I tried to keep my mind off the swirlies, trying to make sense of Mom's jokes. Honestly, I can't believe what comes out of her mouth sometimes.

The dizziness began to subside, but my horniness seemed to increase and before too long, I slipped hands under my dress to finger and tease my sopping wet cunt as Mom's joking words kept echoing through my head. I suppose like all girls, I've fantasized a bit about my father at one point or another, but nothing like I was dealing with now. My hips bucked upward to meet the downward thrust of fingers invading my slick and sensitive flesh growing more intense with each moment that I pictured myself kneeling in front of Daddy, his cock in my hand and in my mouth.

Unlike Mom, I've derived a lot of enjoyment and satisfaction from sucking cock. I get off on the happy expressions I can put on a man's face and I adore the sensation of that hard, yet soft flesh in my mouth, pulsing under the attention of my tongue. It took a bit of getting used to, but I even enjoy eating cum – astonished to find that no two men taste exactly alike. And I love the fact that once I've made a man cum, I can usually get him hard again and the fuck that follows is usually long and wonderful. My fantasies expanded and I imagined Daddy slipping into my room, naked and hard and me silently spreading my legs while he climbed between my thighs and...

Again, I felt myself nearing climax, but there was a sudden knock at the door and then it opened and Mom came in, just missing me pulling three juice covered fingers from my pussy. I stifled a frustrated moan and squeaked out, "Mom?"

Mom stood in the doorway, something between a frown and an amused smile on her face as she stared down at me. Her brief glance at my crotch triggered a reflex in me to flip down what little of my dress covered my aroused pussy and the smile nearly won out. "I didn't hear you come in, Erica. You're home early – everything all right?"

Part of me wanted to start crying and tell Mommy about the mean kids – Dana and the Smith boy, but part of me hated the thought of an "I told you so," from a parent and I shook my head. "It was boring and I didn't feel all that well and you're right. Dana is different now. I don't think we'll be spending any more time together."

Mom nodded and crossed the room to my bed, motherly concern now on her face. "Are you sick, sweetie? You look a little flushed," she said, reaching out to put the back of her hand against my face. She looked down and I'm sure she could see not only my face, but the sexual flush across my mostly bared chest and no doubt the blood engorged nipples that were trying to poke through my dress and still throbbing at the imagined image of Daddy about to fuck me. "You feel a little feverish, Erica. I hope you're not coming down with something."

I nodded and took a deep breath. "I'm sure I'm alright, Mom. Nothing a good night's sleep won't cure."

Mom nodded, doubt written across her face. "Okay, sweetie." She leaned down and kissed my forehead. As she walked back towards the door, she glanced back and said, "I'm going to bed. Merry Christmas." She started to shut the door and paused and looked back in the room. "If you feel up to it, go down and tell your father, Merry Christmas. If you want, there are some fresh sugar cookies in the kitchen – you might give your daddy a treat. He could sure use some cheering up." She smiled then and I tried not to shiver as I think we were both thinking the same thing about her earlier blow job remarks.

Trying not to let her hear the husky catch in my breath, I nodded and said, "I'll got down on – go downstairs to Daddy in a little bit." If Mom picked up on my little Freudian slip, she didn't give any sign, but I felt my entire body turn bright red as she shut the door. 

My need to orgasm became overwhelming – whether it was the drugs or Mom's joking comments, I felt as aroused as I ever had. As I heard the muted closing of my parents' bedroom door, I plunged my fingers back into my cunt and furiously masturbated, thrusting my hips upward to meet the busy thrusts of my fingers. 

Incredible images of Daddy naked with an immense erection took up root in my mind alongside a nymphomaniac version of me fucking and sucking and pleasuring my father. It suddenly dawned on me that Daddy was really a sexy guy in a "Father Knows Best" kind of way. Standing right around six feet tall with my black hair going a bit gray and still slender – no significant middle aged paunch, I saw Daddy in a new light and as I imagined his strong, naked body atop mine, his cock about to thrust into my pussy, saying, "Merry Christmas, baby girl," I exploded into an intense orgasm that had me damn near levitating off the sheets – one hand busy squirming fingers inside my throbbing cunt and the other clawing at my breast, fingernails dragging across my aroused nipple.

When I began to come down from my climax, I wiped my face, astounded to feel my cheeks wet with tears and despite having a delicious orgasm, I sensed from the fire between my legs that my need...my hunger for sex had only increased. The thought of going to my father and sucking his cock and fucking his brains out was stronger now and my fingers continued to caress my slick labia as I imagined having the nerve to do it.

Part of me argued that I was still high or stoned on whatever Dana and the Smith boy had dosed me with, but there was a part of me that understood that this was a lot longer in coming – that I had known this moment could happen since the moment I first gave Daddy a hard-on. It didn't really matter – both of us wanted the same thing. I had a moment of epiphany and said aloud for the first time in my life, "I want to fuck my Daddy!" It sounded shocking, but in a good way – as if I was about to break all the rules and that sinning like this would feel really good!

I jumped out of bed, my legs still shaky, but I felt determined somehow to satisfy the fiery hunger between my legs and to make my Daddy happy. I wriggled out of my dress and stood before the full length mirror hanging on my closet door. I grinned at the slut peering back at me. My hair was a wreck, but I think it looked good in that tumbled out of bed way. I was tempted to go downstairs stark naked, but it didn't seem somehow, Christmasy enough.

I opened up a bureau drawer and began pulling out nightgowns, finally pausing when I had a filmy little baby-doll negligee in my hands. It was fire-engine red and see-through. It came with matching bra and panties, but I decided it would work better without them. I slipped them on and looked at myself in the mirror again.

"Meow!" I said aloud – impressed with myself. My breasts were barely obscured by the material, my aureoles and nipples evident if one took a good look – my hairless pussy less so. I turned around and bent over and flashed my twat. I then looked into the mound of shoes in my closet and came up with some nearly matching red high heels and nodded happily when I gazed at myself in the mirror. They made my legs really stand out and even seemed to make the almost crotch high hem of the negligee seem even shorter. Almost perfect, I though, but lacking something.

I scanned the room, feeling my pussy getting wetter by the moment to the point of smelling my own arousal. I spotted my Santa hat on my old writing desk. Putting it on in front of the mirror, I knew I had a winner. "Santa himself would want to fuck this!" I said to myself, moving this way and that.

I slipped quietly out the bedroom door and crept downstairs after pausing for a moment at the top of the stairs – taking a deep breath and asking myself was I really ready to seduce my father. I was nervous, even scared, but my answer to myself was still a resounding yes – I wanted my Daddy something awful. 

Daddy's Christmas music was playing and I could see him still in his lounger, reading. I went the other way, slipping into the kitchen and preparing a plate of cookies and a big glass of milk. I carried it to the living room, again pausing in the doorway and working up the nerve to actually walk inside. My nipples were so hard they hurt and my cunt was dripping wet – I could feel warm little trickles of pussy juice running down my thighs. I took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Daddy jumped a little when I said breathily, "Merry Christmas, Daddy," and set the milk and cookies down on the little side table next to his lounger. I leaned down as I did so, offering Daddy a very clear view of my breasts, pushing my breasts together with my arms to create a long valley of cleavage.

"Erica! Um...I didn't hear you come in." Daddy's momentary shock didn't wear off, but rather evolved as he took in my naughty little Christmas nightie. I fought down an excited shiver as I felt his eyes roaming over me.

"I've been home awhile, Daddy," I said, moving in to kiss him on the cheek, my breasts brushing against his arm. "I just want to say I'm sorry and that from now on, I plan to spend every moment of Christmas I can with my daddy!" I looked at him with an expression that I hope expressed the love that was in my heart. Slowly, allowing him to get as good a look at me as possible, I sashayed over to his old stereo, high heels clicking provocatively on the wood floor and bent over to go through the albums on a shelf – offering my father a wonderful glimpse of my bare ass cheeks and my swollen labia.

I picked out one of Daddy's favorite old Christmas albums – full of those old crooners who the more I thought about it, sounded smooth and sexy, and put it on the turntable. I turned and posed for Daddy – giving him a long look at his scantily clad daughter – gratified that there was an immediate response in his pants. I licked my lips as I watched the tent grow in his khaki slacks. Daddy's face was bright red as he brought the lounger from a leaned back position to upright.

I slowly walked back to him – feeling the sexual tension escalate in moments as neither of us said anything. Daddy brought his recliner to an upright position, his mouth open in shock, maybe awe at the sight of me sauntering up to him, an evil grin on my face with even my Santa hat cocked at a sexy angle. I walked right up to him, making him open his legs a bit to make way for me – our knees brushing against each other before I slowly knelt between his thighs.

"I was a bad girl, Daddy, leaving you alone tonight, but I promise I'll make it up to you somehow," I said in a husky voice, placing my hands atop his knees and leaning forward, knowing he could look down the front of my negligee for an almost complete view of my breasts. 

"Erica..." Daddy managed to say. "Honey, Mom's gone to bed and I was just about to head that way too." His eyes boggled in his head as he tried to take in every inch of my scantily clad body that he could. ""It's getting late and you should go to, um..." Daddy licked his lips like a man dying of thirst being shown a ice cold bottle of beer and somehow he never managed to complete his train of thought.

"I brought Santa's milk and cookies, Daddy, but I was thinking maybe you wanted something else?" As I spoke, I slid my hands up his thighs, stopping when my right hand covered the long bulge in his slacks. I looked up at him and in my best "Daddy's little girl wants something" voice said, "Does Daddy have a nice big candy cane in his pants? Your little girl's been wanting something big and sweet to suck on!" I gave the bulge a gentle squeeze.

"Oh, God – sweetheart – you shouldn't...your mother...oh my god." Daddy mumbled, his breath growing ragged.

I smiled up at Daddy, giving him a loving stare with my dark brown eyes as my hands moved to undo his belt and pants. "I love you, Daddy and you love me and you've given me so many good Christmas memories, I think it's time you had one too!" My father appeared suddenly helpless, almost like a little boy letting his mother undress him. I undid his trousers and then pulled them and his shorts down, urging him with my hands to rise up so I could tug his pants down to his ankles. I gave a little coo of delight as my father's cock, big, long and proudly erect waved in the open air.

Wrapping my hand around Daddy's thick penis, I raised up a little and said, "I've got all I want for Christmas, now!" before taking Daddy into my mouth, closing my lips around the swollen head and lashing it hungrily with my tongue – never taking my eyes from Daddy's face as I began to suck his dick.

As Chestnuts were roasting on the stereo, I began fondling Daddy's nuts as I sucked and licked his cock, slowly taking more and more of him into my mouth. The look of almost unbelieving terror on Daddy's face softened into a loving, disbelieving smile as I loved up my father's cock. "Oh, Erica," he sighed, reaching out to stroke my dark hair, fingers molding to my head to encourage the up and down movement of my lips on his shaft. Slightly bitter precum almost poured from his cock, my tongue smearing it merrily around the crown of his swollen, pulsating penis.

I happily threw myself into making it the blowjob of Daddy's life – using my tongue to sing my love for him, my lips worshipping the source of my very existence, my entire mouth devoted to pleasuring my wonderful father. I sucked and licked and licked and sucked, feeling torrents of joy wash over me with every groan and gasp and smile that I evoked from my daddy. My pussy was ablaze with need and lust – I could smell myself like some animal in heat – juices raining from my cunt to splatter on my thighs and on the carpet below me.

Daddy's hand on my head tightened its grip, fingers twisting in my long tresses and he groaned, "Erica...Daddy's cumming..." and then an explosion of semen detonated in my mouth as a great wad of Daddy's spunk shot between my tightly clamped lips and it took every bit of skill I had to not choke. 

Daddy tasted so different from all the younger men I'd sucked – more smoky and salty, stronger, but so delicious. I sucked furiously, eager to have him try and drown me in his semen. I don't think Daddy jacked off much because there it was a massive load – shot after shot of searing hot sperm – me grunting and groaning my approval and Dad almost sobbing with the pleasure of experiencing his little girl sucking him and swallowing his seed. His hands scrabbled about against the faux leather of his lounger as he squirmed while I tongued and sucked his wonderful cock.

Too soon for me did the flood of semen ebb and fade, but I kept sucking and tonguing his cock, urging it by sheer will to stay erect. Daddy groaned and wiggled against me, gasping, "Too much, baby – Oh God – too sweet – gotta stop now, Erica. Daddy needs to stop!"

As I continued to suck Daddy, I shook my head no, knowing full well how sweetly torturous it felt for my father – his sensitive flesh now registering intense pleasure that bordered on pain, but I wanted more. I wanted – no, needed my Daddy stiff and erect. When I felt his cock begin to flag, I redoubled my efforts and lavished Daddy's cock with every sweet and sinful sensation I could think of to keep him hard, pausing only once in my tonguing and sucking to let him slip from my lips as I said in my best 'little girl pouting voice,' "Stay hard for me, Daddy! I need more of your cum!"

Maybe it was the work of my dancing tongue and hungry mouth. Maybe it was my naughty words. Maybe it was my eyes which never broke contact with my Daddy's face. Maybe it was all those put together, but whatever it was – it worked! Daddy's cock regained its full vigor and was proudly erect!

I let him slip from my mouth again, drool and remnants of his semen dripping from my lips. My pussy was a raging inferno of need and my heart was pounding in my chest. My breath came in ragged bursts. My mouth moved silently, the words, "Fuck me, Daddy," not sufficing for my desires. With a carnal snarl, I leapt up, climbing into Daddy's lap – our arms wrapping around each other as he pulled me to him, our bodies and lips coming together. I felt my Santa hat tumble away as I kissed my Daddy as I had never done before, my tongue spearing into his open mouth only to be greeted by his lusty tongue – our flesh appendages slipping against each other, tasting each other in a way that twelve hours ago I could never have imagined.

The force of my leap into his lap knocked the chair and us into a reclining position. I let my legs, straddling his lap, stretch out behind us, sliding my body down slightly until I felt my father's cock brushing along my left inner thigh. I shifted my hips slightly and felt my labia embrace the long, thick length of Daddy's penis. Daddy gasped into my mouth as he felt his cock being kissed by his daughter's wet and aroused cunt.

He broke that first, wonderful and sinful kiss and looking into my face, moaned, "Oh, Erica, my little girl – I love you, sweetheart."

I felt tears of joy and desire on my cheeks and I finally found the words I needed to say, "I love you too, Daddy! Please, Daddy...fuck me?" Out of sheer instinct, I rolled my hips just enough and then as my father and I gazed awestruck into each other's eyes, I felt the head of his cock enter my wet, clasping opening and we simultaneously came together – thickness sliding slowly inside me – Daddy cock driving into Daughter pussy, deeper and deeper and then I cried out, "YES, I LOVE MY DADDY!"

Daddy's mouth was on mine, squelching out my cries of carnal delight, our tongues performing a dance of love as my father's cock buried itself inside me to the hilt – wiry pubic hairs scratching deliciously against my bald mound. We both became a boiling cauldron of incestuous lust, kissing passionately as I wiggled my hips in ecstasy, impaled by Daddy's cock. My hands tore violently at his sweater vest and his old dress shirt until I could feel naked flesh, his chest hair running through my fingers, little hard pebble-like nipples and his heart beating in time with mine.




Milk and Cookies for Santa



Daddy's hands tore apart the filmy fabric of my negligee until his hands were cupping my breasts, fingers finding and teasing my hard, erect nipples, pinching them viciously until I groaned with pain and pleasure into his mouth. He broke the kiss and pushed me up, shifting our center of gravity more towards our joined loins, forcing his cock even deeper into my pulsating pussy. I whimpered with pleasure as Daddy's lips closed around my swollen right nipple and began to suck and nip on the turgid, blood engorged flesh. I instinctively began to work myself up and down on Daddy's cock, nearly swooning as fresh flowerings of carnal pleasure blossomed all over my body.

Maybe I've had bigger or longer cocks, but no man's penis ever made me feel the way I did at that moment. Daddy seemed perfect inside me – every bit of his shaft and swollen cock head touching me, caressing my slick inner flesh in a way that seemed loving and sinful at the same time, taking me to heights of pleasure I never knew existed. Maybe it was so sweet because it was incest – I don't have a fucking clue, all I knew then and know now was Daddy's cock was the finest thing that ever happened to me.

My orgasm...THE ORGASM I had been longing for all night long began to erupt within me and the world became a blur of swollen cock wormed inside me, my cunt flesh aflame, awash with lust, tongues entangled, breasts squeezed, licked and sucked, flesh, sweaty and slick, salty when licked or kissed. I was on fire, burning – impaled on a fiery pyre that was my father's wonderful cock. I screamed my pleasure into Daddy's open mouth as my world grew incandescent with orgasmic pleasure.

I seemed to lose my balance – falling through an ocean of ecstasy, not realizing for long minutes that as I bounced and flailed in climax that I had literally toppled us out of the chair as we tilted backwards until the chair tipped over onto its back and tumbled us out. I came out of my orgasmic frenzy to find myself straddling daddy, both of us now prone on the lounger's back - the small table next to us toppled with cookies and milk everywhere. It seemed odd, but I didn't really care – as my long sought orgasm faded, I knew I needed more and I resumed riding my father, planting my legs into a squat so I could piston up and down on his long and big shaft!

Daddy lay there, an odd grin on his face as his hands reached up to cup my bouncing breasts, twiddling my nipples with his thumb as I gazed lovingly down at him as his cock filled my sopping wet, quivering pussy again and again. I moved up and down, fast – slow – then fast again, my leg muscles bulging with strain as I again approached orgasm. 

As I felt fantastic pleasure sweep me away, Daddy seized hold of me and with his stiff meat buried in my cunt to the root, he rolled me over – the violence of the movement strengthening my orgasm and then taking me to unsuspected heights of carnal joy as he began fucking me with hard, brutal strokes – taking possession of me, making me his with his throbbing cock! Anticipating my cries, Daddy smothered my wails of pleasure with his mouth, again kissing me – our tongues a frenzy of co-joined ecstatic activity. Somehow we seemed to be under the Christmas tree, Daddy shoving into my pussy, the most wonderful present I had ever known.

As the world around me disappeared in a fog of ecstasy, I could only comprehend that it was my father that was giving me such pleasure – that somehow I had made this happen and I never wanted to ever give up this incestuous joy. As I reached the pinnacle of my climax, Daddy showed me my ignorance of pleasure by thrusting hard and deep into my young womb and cumming – flooding my pussy with his hot, sweet seed. As the heat of his semen soaked into my cunt, I finally understood what an orgasm truly was – my body swollen and exploding in indescribable pleasure until the world simply disintegrated, leaving only incestuous bliss and joy beyond measure.

The rest of that blessed early Christmas morning was a series of fractured, but wonderful images – my memories distorted maybe by the drugs or perhaps by the greatest orgasm of my young life. Still, till the day I die, I will treasure those images – finding myself in Daddy's arms, kissing passionately and tenderly, both vowing that this was only the beginning – down on my hands and knees, helping Daddy clean up the spilled milk and cookies, him standing beside me, lifting the lounger upright and his cock, still semi-hard and inches from my face and me impulsively taking him back in my mouth, cleaning his cock of semen and pussy juice – kissing and caressing on the stairs, both of us now naked, my body trembling as his fingers explored and stroked my body – Daddy tucking me into my bed, kissing my mouth, my breasts, my stomach and my still quivering pussy before pulling the covers over me, his last words to me, "Merry Christmas, Erica – Daddy loves you, baby girl," before I faded into the most contented sleep I had ever known.

Christmas morning was always the time for opening presents, but it was almost Christmas noon before either Daddy or I crawled out of our prospective beds – Mom saying nothing, but looking at us with amused expressions. I awoke first and had a cup of coffee with Mom as we waited for Daddy to stir. I had no hangover and shivered with delight with every memory of Daddy and me fucking the night before. I felt all sorts of guilt, certain it was all but stamped on my forehead, but Mom seemed not to notice, talking about Christmas dinner plans and my next semester in school.

When Daddy came in, my heart raced at the sight of him, hair bed-tousled and yawning. Part of me feared that overnight, he would have a change of heart, but he smiled at me in such a way that told me that he still felt the same way about me. We opened presents – nobody getting anything out of the ordinary – Mom and Daddy giving me clothes, CDs, a couple of gift cards and since Mom loved her little jokes, yet another coupon for getting bikini waxes at a local salon. I blushed and then shrugged my shoulders, laughing along with Mom and Daddy and then almost creaming my panties when Daddy, after checking to see Mom's attention was on opening a present, licked his lips lasciviously, letting me know how much he looked forward to eating his daughter's hairless pussy. 

When all the presents were opened and the wrapping papers collected, Mom ordered us to get upstairs and cleaned up, telling me to report to her in thirty minutes for kitchen duty and for Daddy to be careful when he drove down to the local convenience store to pick up the eggs she'd forgotten. She got up, looked at us both with both love and amusement in her eyes and said, "I'll be in the kitchen if anybody needs anything."

Daddy and I watched her go and then hurried upstairs, both of us pausing at the door to my bedroom – for a moment standing awkwardly like two teenagers at the end of their first date. Then Daddy took me in his arms and kissed me, backing me up against the closed door, his tongue searching out mine. A fire that had been simmering between my legs since I'd woken up flared anew. I hunched against him, feeling his cock already erect pressing back against my stomach.

"Oh Daddy, I want you so much," I gasped as our kiss ended.

"Me too, Erica," Daddy replied, "Soon baby, but..." he paused as we heard pots being rattled downstairs, "We have our marching orders!" Daddy kissed me again and then turned me towards the bathroom door and gave me a firm, but playful slap on the ass.

I grinned at him as he watched me walk away and for fun, I shed the gown I'd put on after waking up and walked naked to the bathroom, not bothering to close the door. Daddy watched me until I climbed into the shower before retreating back to his and Mom's bedroom and their private bathroom beyond. I took a quick shower, pausing only to rub my soap slick pussy for a few minutes. Afterwards, I dried off, combed the tangles out of my long, black hair and then marched out of the bathroom stark naked into my parents' bedroom. Daddy was in their bathroom, drying himself off, turning at the sound of my entrance. 

As I reached the bathroom, I fell to my knees, ignoring the uncomfortable tile floor and took Daddy into my mouth, relishing the feeling of his cock hardening quickly around my lips and tongue. My eyes conveyed to him how much I loved him as much as my mouth moving on his cock did.

"Ohhhhh, my little girl," Daddy sighed as I bobbed my head back and forth, tongue slithering this way and that around his shaft and crown. I kept my eyes locked on Daddy as I sucked him off, but even so, quickly my peripheral vision picked up the naughty and erotic images of me sucking my father's cock in Mom's three part mirror. A thrill ran through me as I realized, Daddy and I looked good like this – that we looked like we were meant to be together sexually.

Daddy was long in cumming, despite my best efforts, our activities from earlier in the morning still tempering his need to cum quickly. After several minutes of lovingly sucking Daddy's penis, Mom hollered up from downstairs, "Hey! Are you guys coming or not?"

Trying not to laugh as I let Daddy's cock slip from my lips, I said in a voice that sounded a bit strange, "Just a couple of more minutes, Mom!" I giggled up at Daddy and then resumed sucking him, being loud, wet noises as I did. Daddy's cock throbbed and pulsed angrily and I knew he was close so I resorted to the one thing I knew men and boys loved more than just about anything. I let Daddy go once more, reaching up to stroke his shaft, slick with my saliva and looked up at him with an expression of eager need on my face and said, "Daddy, please cum on my face!"

Daddy's expression of pure bliss evolved into something more carnal and I knew my words were magic. ""Sweet daughter of mine," Daddy moaned and I could feel the sperm racing up his shaft and then spraying all over my face – jet after jet of hot, creamy semen splattering on my lips, nose, chin and cheeks. Along with my father's groans of pleasure came murmurs of appreciation for my sluttish actions as I stuck my tongue out to catch the last few spurts of his creamy spunk, followed by lip-smacking sounds of satisfaction as I used my fingers to scoop blobs of semen up and eat them off my fingers.

Finally, Daddy hauled me to my feet and kissed me, not caring if I shared my taste and his seed with him as our tongues danced for one last long minute. He turned me around and said, "Thank you, Erica...wow!" He gave me a slap on the ass and added, "Go get dressed – Mom's expecting you." 

I did as he said, giving him a nice view of my swaying ass as I headed out. I stopped short when he called to me, adding another command. "No panties, Erica. Daddy has plans for his little girl later on." 

He grinned at me in such a way that my knees went weak and I could only nod and reply, "I love you, Daddy!"

I finished cleaning up and then quickly dressed and got downstairs. As I entered the kitchen, Mom, fussing over a half roasted turkey, glanced over at me, nodding approvingly at my red and green sweater dress which molded itself nicely to me, but with a more modest than usual neckline and a hemline that ended only a few inches above my knees. "I was about to give up on you, Erica. How about tackling those potatoes."

I nodded, face slightly blushing as I wondered what she would think if she knew Dad and I had followed up on her joking remarks from last night. I peeled potatoes and set them boiling in preparation to be mashed and then followed Mom's directions as we fixed other parts of our impending Christmas dinner. 

Mom and I chatted a bit about presents as we worked and I tried to not show any reaction when Daddy walked in, now dressed and looking more handsome than ever. I was on the far side of the breakfast nook, adding some ingredients to a sweet potato casserole. Daddy gave Mom a kiss on the cheek and then came around the nook and gave me a fatherly hug as he said, "Okay, you need eggs, Evvie, anything else?"

Mom paused in her work to consider the question and while he waited for the answer, Daddy dropped his hand down along my ass and then up and under my dress. As Mom said, "I don't think so, honey – get a gallon of Milk if you can – a half gallon or a quart if that's all they have," Daddy slipped two fingers between my thighs and pressed between my still slick labia, slowly stirring those fingers around in my wet cunt. I bit my lip, trying not to react to the naughty sensations sending thrills through my body.

Daddy said, "Good enough, be back in a bit," as he pulled his fingers free from my clasping flesh and turned and headed out the front door. I glanced down the hallway where my father now out of line of sight of Mom, turned and grinned at me before putting his fingers in his mouth and sucking them clean of my juices.

I had to struggle for the next few minutes not to shiver or shake in the throes of my sexual desire. My heart was racing and my skin felt flushed and hot. My mind felt giddy as I tried somehow to rationalize my sudden overwhelming attraction to my father...and the sudden swell of emotions that I knew were part lust and part love, not the innocent love of a father and daughter, but the love one feels upon realizing they have found a soul-mate.

It felt as if Mom's eyes were constantly on me – that she was studying me even as we continued to chat about innocuous things. Part of me felt a wee bit of guilt. I had committed incest with my father. I had committed adultery with Mom's husband, yet those feelings were tiny compared to the sudden need and love I felt for Daddy. I already knew in my heart that if I had it to do over again, I would in an instant...and a lot sooner too! 

Mom continued to scrutinize me as we reached a temporary stopping place in cooking and she joined me at the breakfast nook, bringing us both fresh cups of coffee. She finally said, "Your father is in much better spirits this morning. I take it you two have worked out your differences?"

I sipped at my coffee and nodded, softly replying, "I guess so, Mom."

Mom passed me over the sugar, knowing I like my coffee sweet. "I'm glad. You know your daddy loves you, Erica."

I smiled and said more confidently, "Absolutely, Mom."

"Good. You're your daddy's precious little girl and you mean more to him that just about anything...even me." Mom said the last words slowly, giving them a great deal of emphasis.

I felt my stomach roll over. I slowly set my coffee cup down, trying hard to not have an accident. "That's not true, Mom. Daddy loves you!"

Mom smiled back at me, reaching out to pat my hand. "I know he does, but I also know how important you are...how important you've become to him. He's a good man. He's worked hard to provide for us...a loving husband and father and it's not always been easy – the last few years especially." 

Mom's hand squeezed mine. "Not losing his little girl means the world to him and it makes my heart sing to see him happy. It makes me even happier knowing that you and your father are close...hopefully closer than ever. I don't want to see John hurt." Mom's hand closed tighter around mine. "Daddy's little girl isn't going to hurt him again, is she?"

There was a long stretch of silence as Mom and I stared at each other. My mind was racing, trying to understand. Was she saying she knew what had happened? Was she saying that she approved? My mind stumbled over the conclusions I kept reaching. Unless I was totally clueless, Mom was telling me she was okay with me fucking Daddy!

I finally licked my lips, my throat feeling dry and said a bit hoarsely, "I understand, Mom. I...I love Daddy and I promise never to hurt him again."

Mom continued to study me for what seemed an hour before finally allowing a small smile on her face. "Good, Erica. I'm glad to hear it." Mom stood up and surveyed the kitchen. "I reckon those potatoes are ready to get mashed and afterwards, you can get some dinner rolls out of the freezer." She turned to resume her work, but spared me another brief glance, her expression one of satisfaction more than anything else.

I felt a trickle of pussy juice run down my inner thigh. I wasn't sure what had me more excited...the prospect of fucking Daddy again in the near future or that I thought me fucking Daddy had Mom's blessing.

Late afternoon found us all having a sumptuous Christmas dinner with turkey, mashed potatoes and enough food to feed a small army. We laughed and ate our way through it until we were all stuffed, just as we had every Christmas in memory. Once we were able to move again, Mom, as was tradition, handed off the clean-up to Daddy and me while she had a nice long nap in the living room.

Being alone with Daddy, even with Mom just a room or two away sent thrills through me as we collected up dirty dishes, covered up leftovers and moved everything from the dining room to the kitchen. We exchanged glances, smiles that were both loving and lusty. I loaded up the dishwasher and then set about washing other dirty dishes and pans in the sink while Daddy quickly began wrapping up leftovers and finding room for them in the refrigerator. 

I felt Daddy come up from behind. His arms went around my waist and pulled me to him. I sighed as I felt his lips brush the nape of my neck while I felt the growing erection in his slacks. He hugged me tight while I slowly wiggled my ass against his legs. His lips nibbled on my neck and then my cheek as I eased my head back against his shoulder. Daddy's hands slid slowly up my sweater dress to cup my breasts, allowing him to discover that in addition to no panties, I'd foregone a bra as well.

Slowly Daddy turned me around so I could lean against the counter, soapy hands gripping the edge of the sink. My heart beat loudly as Daddy leaned in and kissed me, gently at first and then with more passion, my lips yielding to his insistent tongue until both his and mine were again curling around each other – allowing us to taste the other more deeply.

When Daddy, almost regretfully ended the kiss, he gingerly kneeled down in front of me, his hands slowly running down my body. "Erica, raise your dress up for Daddy," he said softly. Hands still wet and trembling, I did as my father told me too and pulled the clinging fabric up, loving the light that erupted in his eyes as I exposed my clean-shaven pussy to him. Daddy sighed, "So beautiful, baby," reaching out with one hand to caress my already blossomed labia, middle finger running the length of the wet, glistening flesh between my swollen lips.

Slowly Daddy pressed his middle finger inside me, taking his time and exploring with it, ending with his finger probing upwards inside my pussy, searching out that magical g-spot. I could barely stand, the pleasure of being fingered by my own father almost overwhelming me. As he added another finger into my molten twat, Daddy reached out with his other hand and spread the wrinkled, slick flesh above to expose my clit, already emerging from it's hood – nearly a half inch of aroused flesh. Like a butterfly's kiss, his thumb gently flicked over my clitoris, drawing a soulful moan from me. "Yesssss, Daddy!" I said in a hoarse whisper.

Daddy smiled up at me and then leaned in, his mouth on me – tongue brushing against my clitoris, a long, delicate lick before swirling around and down to join with his busy fingers. After minutes of teasing – licking and tugging at my labia, Daddy withdrew his fingers from my quivering cunt, licked them clean and then with another smile, pressed his face against my slick cunt and proceeded to show me what a fine eater of pussy my daddy was!

Minute after minute of exquisite pleasure followed as Daddy tongued and licked and teased my pussy. Making me whimper with talented sucking of my clit and making me shake all over as he seemed to simply know where his tongue would feel the best. I embraced the sweet orgasms that swept my body as Daddy ate my pussy, shaky knees and arms barely holding me up as Daddy speared my cunt with his tongue, following up with the most gentle kisses on my clit that I've ever experienced and lapping up the river of cunt cream flowing out of me. I managed not to scream out in pleasure, but I wasn't quite either – sighs and coos of pleasure constantly escaping my lips.




Milk and Cookies for Santa



After my third or maybe fourth orgasm, Daddy quickly stood up, his pants falling to pool at his feet as he rose, his cock hard and proud, brushing against my leg as he moved. Daddy turned me around, one foot reaching out to catch and slide a small foot stool Mom used to reach things on the higher shelf. He guided me onto it, raising me up only a few inches, but making things just right as I discovered as he bent me forward slightly, stepped up and made me cry out loudly as he thrust into me from behind, his long, hard cock quickly burying itself in my sopping wet cunt. 

I let out a long moan as I felt my cunt become stuffed with my father's erection, my fingernails scraping over the metal of the sink as I felt his cock-head spread apart my flesh and press into my cervix. "Fuck me, Daddy, please," I whimpered, pushing my ass back, wiggling fervently in an attempt to have more of my daddy inside me.

"Been saving this Christmas present all day," Daddy whispered into my ear, his lips nuzzling me while his hands slid up from my waist to cup my breasts, kneading them through the knitted material, teasing my erect nipples while he began to move in and out of my clasping pussy. Waves of pleasure swept over me as Daddy fucked me in the kitchen while Mom sat less than twenty feet away in another room. Although we were trying to be discreet, the truth is that we couldn't hold back the moans and cries of our lusty delight nor the unmistakable sounds of flesh slapping flesh as Daddy fucked me. Her words...Mom's veiled blessing just seemed to make the fact that Daddy and I were joined in incestuous bliss just hat much more exciting.

As Daddy's cock slipped back and forth – each movement sweeter than the one before, his lips were busy, kissing and nibbling my neck and then as I leaned my head back, pressing opened mouth against mine, his tongue slathering over mine. His strong fingers pinched and pulled my throbbing nipples, seeming to pinch hard each time he thrust deep inside me.

My body trembled with the effort of remaining upright – my legs felt like jelly and my arms were corded and quivering as I braced myself for Daddy's hard fucking. Thank goodness I was more or less impaled on Daddy's hard penis or I'm sure I would've been collapsed on the floor. My orgasm built deliciously slow but then erupted violently as I felt Daddy speed up his thrusts and I let out a loud cry only partly muffled by his lips as we kissed passionately and sloppily. 

"OH YES, DADDY," escaped my lips in a loud sob as I felt him thrust deep one last time and then begin shooting semen into my welcoming womb. I began to sag, my legs useless, but Daddy somehow kept me upright with a firm grip on my tits and his cock thrust upwards into my cunt, Daddy standing on tip-toe in an attempt to get as much of himself inside me as he could. Bolts of carnal ecstasy tore through me again and again as I surrendered myself to my father heart and soul, my heart swelling to bursting with equal amounts of lust and love.

After an eternity of sweet pleasure, I felt Dad slip from me and as we both gasped for breath, I slowly sagged down to the floor to my knees, feeling dizzy and wonderful and then hungry for my Daddy as I came face to face with his slowly deflating cock. I felt a thrill as I sluttishly pressed my face against his cock and groin, smelling and tasting his spunk as well as my juices on his shaft and in his curly pubic hair. I took Daddy in my mouth and got a rather loud moan from him as well as I rolled my tongue over his very sensitive flesh.

Finally, with Daddy's cock licked clean, he pulled me to my feet and we kissed for several minutes, me shivering every time I felt a bit of his seed trickling down my thighs. I suddenly found myself blushing and barely able to meet his intense gaze. "Erica, thank you for this," Daddy said softly to me. "It's been...well, it's been a long time since I felt like this...like a man feels when he knows he's made his woman happy."

I felt myself tremble in my father's arms. "Am I your woman now, Daddy?" I replied in almost a whisper."

"Yes, baby girl. You're my woman," Dad said, his eyes looking suddenly wetter. "You're my woman for as long as you want."

"And Mom, what about her?"

Dad licked his lips and glanced off towards the living room. "I think she's okay with this, Erica. I think she's kind of been hoping this would happen and take the pressure off her. I still love her and she'll always be my wife, but you..." He looked at me hopefully. Part of me was relieved to know that he was reading Mom the same way I was. Part of me rejoiced with the thought that we likely had Mom's blessing.

I lifted my head and kissed him, slowly and lovingly, taking my time with my tongue to show him how I truly felt before I whispered, "I'm Daddy's little girl and I'm Daddy's lover."

We kissed a while longer and then finished up the dishes. After getting ourselves straightened up (mostly me combing my hair and giving Daddy a lurid peepshow of wiping up the cum dripping from my pussy and licking it from my fingers while grinning like the bird that ate the canary), we joined Mom in the living room, finding her dozing on the couch.

Mom stretched lazily and opening her eyes, smiled at us both. "Mmmmm, it was nice to relax. Maybe I'll let you two do the kitchen every night."

I felt both a grin and a blush break out on my face. After glancing at Daddy, I replied, "I'm fine with that, Mom. I really enjoy doing things with Daddy."

Mom's smile blossomed into a big grin and she said, "I bet you do!" while Daddy stood there and turned a bright red. After that, things calmed down – the double entendres faded and we watched a silly comedy DVD that Mom and Daddy got me for Christmas. After watching the news, Mom got up and announced she was heading to bed, kissed us both goodnight and went upstairs.

I doubt if she got the bedroom door closed before I was in Daddy's arms, kissing each other passionately as we nearly tore the clothes off each other. Daddy and I ended Christmas as we had begun it, losing ourselves in a bout of sweaty, intense incestuous sex – Daddy between my thighs, pounding his amazing cock into me with all his might.

And so went my Christmas break with Daddy and me fucking and sucking at every opportunity we had to be alone. I discovered early on that Daddy had some help from modern chemistry and if I ever meet the people that came up with those miraculous little pills, I'd fuck them in an instant. Besides the wonder drugs, I think Daddy had a lot of fucking and cumming to catch up on and I was determined to get every bit of his hot, delicious spunk.

Even as the dreaded day approached for me to take a bus back across the state, leaving Daddy and I apart for Lord knew how long, Mom stepped in and saved the day, coyly suggesting that Daddy take some of his built up leave time and drive me back. "Take a few days, John," Mom urged Daddy. "Spend some quality time with your daughter!"

Daddy looked thunderstruck at Mom's suggestion even as he nodded dumbly to it. As for me, Mom's only suggestive comment was when she hugged me goodbye at the car, whispering in my ear, "Enjoy, but don't kill your father!"

I could go on and on about the titanic amount of sex and lovemaking Daddy and I enjoyed over the course of the next six days – leaving fellow occupants at two different motels banging on the walls at all the noise we were making, going down on Daddy in the men's room at one of Columbus's finer restaurants, or him fucking me standing up against the inside door of my dorm room. It was a whirlwind of incestuous orgasms that left me bow-legged and Daddy so sore he could barely walk...memories that we will cherish for the rest of our lives.

But, those days were so much more. Between the bouts of lovemaking, we had a chance to talk and connect as only a father and daughter in love can do. We sat down ground-rules for our conduct around Mom – wanting and cherishing her blessing of our relationship and with each other. Daddy was very much concerned that I feel free to find a man my own age and that while Daddy intended to be faithful to me, I should feel free to find that special someone to spend the rest of my life with. 

I told Daddy that I'd already found that man. The look of love on his face at that moment told me he wanted it to be true and that he hoped that it was. I'm finishing up my Spring semester now and when I return home again, I'll prove it to him. I'm one year shy of graduating, but I already have made the arrangements. I'm transferring to a school just twenty-five miles from home so I can commute. In a couple of weeks, I'll show my Daddy that milk and cookies isn't just a Christmas tradition, but that as far as my Daddy is concerned, milk and cookies and my pussy are a tradition he'll be enjoying every night!

The End



Milk and Cookies Mom



It was almost half past three in the afternoon when June Anderson paused to check her make up in the mirror. She smiled as she touched up her lipstick and patted her blonde, permed hair. She looked good and knowing it, she gave herself a little wink in the mirror. Turning to the side she looked at her profile. Her pert bust was being shown off, not excessively, by her v-neck pink top. The brown skirt she wore clung pleasingly to her bottom and ended mid thigh. On her legs June wore nude-coloured stockings and her legs looked great, shaped by her dark brown stiletto heels. Her pearl necklace and matching earrings complete the ensemble. 

Beep-beep! The cooker's electronic chirp made June break her gaze and return back down the hallway of her house to the kitchen. She checked the kitchen clock. He would be home any minute.

Picking up her apron from the kitchen table and tying it behind her, June went to the oven and pulled out the tray of nicely browned cookies. She placed them on the counter and then attended to the mixture of that afternoon's second baking project. June stirred the mixture and would glance up at the back door to see if her Son was home yet.

June had raised David since her poor husband had died ten years ago, it had been rough on them both and she still missed her husband. However, now he was 19, David was turning into a fine young man on his own.

For this reason she had made the effort to make sure she looked her best when he came home and when he was around. He was the most important person in her life and she wanted to make sure he knew that.

June continued to work the cake mixture in the bowl when she heard the familiar rattle of the back door. There, back from college, was David and he'd brought Edward with him. Edward was David's best friend, they'd met at school, liked the same bands, both enjoyed football and gaming, they'd become thick as thieves.

"Hello, boys!" said June, smiling as she set the cake bowl on the counter.

"Hi, Mum," said David, throwing his bag in the corner of the kitchen. Edward closed the kitchen door and stood next to David, admiring the cookies.

"That looks like a fresh batch of your finest, Mrs A," said Edward. 

"You can help yourselves, but don't go mad," replied June. "There's fresh milk in the fridge." 

The boys helped themselves to glasses and cookies as June spooned her cake mixture into an empty tin.

"So how was college?"

Both boys grunted through a mouthful of cookies.

"That good, eh? Edward, this cake is for your Mother, for the church bake sale. So before you go home tonight make sure you take it with you, OK?"

Edward nodded as June turned around and bent over to put the cake in the oven. Edward's chewing slowed as he eyeballed June's legs and ass. David caught him doing this and slapped his arm, pulling a face at him. Edward chuckled.

"Now," said June, setting the oven timer. "Don't you think you boys should go and do your homework?"

Her suggestion was greeted with sighs and groans as the two teenagers lazily stood up and picked up their bags to head upstairs. As they departed she caught a snippet of hushed conversation.

"... your Mum actually wears stockings?" "She's, you know... retro."

The boys disappeared up the stairs. So Edward had been looking at her legs. She giggled to herself with the knowledge that she could still turn a young man's head. Pleased with herself, June realised she needed to work on the local school's charity events calendar. The Mum undid her apron and opened her laptop to start working.

As she worked, June thought about her Son's comment. She did dress in 'retro' way, she supposed, but she enjoyed that. Stockings and heels were feminine. They made her feel like a woman beyond all her work for the school and the church and fundraising. She wondered if David liked the way she dressed.

An hour or so passed. Edward returned to say goodbye having finished his homework session and picked up the completed cake to take to his Mother. If anything Edward avoided looking at her, clearly embarrassed at being caught by David earlier. 

Dinner was quiet, David was grumbling about an assignment he'd set. She wished she could help him more and told him so. He reassured her she did too much already.

That night as David lay in bed reading, June came into say goodnight, like she did every night. She walked in to his bedroom wearing a white fluff robe that came down to her ankles, with cream kitten-heeled La Perla slippers on her feet. 

After fussing at him to keep his room a little tidier, June asked: "David do you like the way I dress?"

David frowned, looking up from his book and said "Of course I do, Mum. I wouldn't change it for anything. I mean I know you have this fifties housewife thing going on, but if it makes you happy, it makes me happy."

"Thank you, darling, that's what your Mum needed to hear!" June leaned down and kissed her Son on the cheek. "Goodnight, Son."

"Goodnight, Mum."

June smiled at him and padded out of his room. This time it was David's turn to wonder why his Mother had asked him that question. He went back to trying to concentrate on his book.

On the landing June picked up a basket of washing and walked back down to the kitchen. Setting the washing down she noticed that David and Edward had managed to trample mud in the house.

"Fiddlesticks!" said the Mum and decided that the mess could wait till morning. Instead she turned to her washing machine and began to load it. 

Once the machine was on and the house began to fill with the sound of the churning drum and rushing water, June turned towards the airing cupboard.

The cupboard was in the far corner of the kitchen, usually obscured by her aprons and coats. June took a deep breath and walked towards the cupboard.

She kept it locked. Only she had the key and that key was kept in another locked box in her bedroom. June pulled out that key from her robe and unlocked the airing cupboard. She checked once more behind her and then opened the door.

Inside the cupboard was deceptively large. June reached for the light switch in the top right corner and flicked it on. The room was seven feet deep and had a dark tiled floor. In the centre of the room was a footstool, next to that was a chest. June turned and locked the door behind her. 

The Mother undid the robe and hung it on the door. Her attire beneath was totally different.

She wore a tightly fitting black leather corset that pulled in her waist and made her ample cleavage spill out into the rounded cups. The corset was tailed with black leather straps that fixed with metal clasps to her tan stockings. It fastened at the front with a neat laced bow.

Bending over she opened the chest and surveyed the contents. She picked out the shoes first, four inch black stilettos, she kissed one first and then slipped them onto her stockinged feet. The ballgag was next. It was bright orange, plastic with another leather strap. She put the gag into her mouth and bit down, adjusting the strap behind her head. Then the dildo. It was a large blue object and she shuddered as she began to work the sex toy into her open pussy. She loved this moment, the violation, with her legs unsteadily wobbling in her tall heels. Once she was happy that the dildo was firmly in place she picked up the small remote unit. The finishing touch were the most important, the wrist restraints. She needed to be bound in some way. That was essential.

She stood on the stool, again a little unsteadily and looped the wrist restraints over a beam that ran horizontal to the ceiling. June awkwardly fumbled the wrist restraints so they were tight and then shook her arms forward to test them. Satisfied they were in place, she placed her thumb on the vibrator remote and pressed slowly on the sliding scale.

The vibration began, slowly enough, deep in her pussy. June closed her eyes as the warm, subtle pleasure began to sweep over her. In her mind June was held here against her will, punished, imprisoned and fucked. In her mind she played over a variety of assaults and rapes on her body. Young men, violently groping her body, shaking her, forcing their engorged cocks deep inside her. She was thrashed, spanked, tied to a bed by filthy ropes and had cum sprayed over her, inside her. She was bad and she needed to be punished. June's thumb moved the slider up another notch.

This time June let out a deep moan from behind the ballgag as the dildo did its work. She was moving her body back and forth, slowly, but increasing in pace as she imagined the fucking she was receiving. She imagined being bent over the kitchen counter as her assailant put his hand over mouth and forced his dick deep inside her. It was Edward, that filthy little boy, leering at her legs and making her a whore, that young bastard. She was looking around, frightened at what Edward might do next. Only now, her imagination through up something new. It was David.

Her thumb moved on the remote and the slider hit its peak.

David was fucking her, her own Son was raping her, he was pushing his cock deep into her, groping her breasts as she bucked with pleasure and pain. Her body writhed as it hung from the cupboard ceiling. Her stilettos wobbled on the footstool as her body built and built to a delicious. Through the gag she tried to say her Son's name as her orgasm built, as he rammed himself to her very core.

The wrist restraints shook, clattered against the beam as June climaxed, her body convulsing as the dildo did its work. Her fingers trembled and the remote tumbled to the floor. June mewed and moaned and grunted as the electric jolts of pleasure ripped through her body.

She was still cumming, the dildo wasn't stopping. Shaking, she fumbled with the restraints and got herself free. Dizzy, she pressed her palm against the cold stone wall and gingerly stepped off the footstool. She opened her legs and removed the dildo. The gag followed quickly. Breathing deep and gulping for air, June leaned back against the cupboard door.

"Fuck... fuck yes... David..." she panted.

And on the other side of that door. David stood listening. Confused, shaken and somewhat surprisingly, he was rock hard too. He didn't know his Mother at all, did he?