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Absolute Devotion Ch. 01

By: KaseyLegs



Jean and I had been together for two years when I met her friend Erica. I'd never been much of a ladies' man, shy and awkward were my calling cards, and the first time I saw Erica it was after she'd played tennis and Jean and I were meeting her for ice cream.

She'd lived out of state for about three years and Jean and her had kept in touch by phone and email, but Erica was now moving back to town and Jean was very excited to see her again. I tagged along even though I usually found Jean's friends to be obnoxious and mean. One of her friends liked to call me "The Wimp" and once told Jean, "Why don't you get a man with some balls? You could do better."

Her friends didn't do much for my self-confidence, and Jean never stood up for me except to say, "I like Keith just the way he is." Jean was very domineering and controlling. She liked me the way I was because she could boss me around and get me to do anything she wanted. She was very overweight and tended not to care about her appearance, so holding on to me was probably something she did because she had trouble finding a man otherwise.

"So, this is Keith," Erica said after meeting me in the parking lot of the ice cream place, which was basically a big stand surrounded by picnic tables, a regular summertime favorite of the locals.

Erica was wearing a tight white t-shirt, pink tennis shorts, white socks and sneakers. She was an incredibly gorgeous woman, unlike most of Jean's friends. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, a perfect figure, and long, beautiful, golden tanned legs.

I've always had a fetish for women's legs, for as long as I can remember, and it had become more intense since I'd been with Jean. Her legs were stubby, fat, shapeless, and she almost never shaved them so there were always patches of dark hair on her knees and ankles.

Jean introduced us and rolled her eyes at me when she saw how I was looking lustfully at Erica. When Erica was out of earshot, at the counter ordering her ice cream, Jean told me, "Be real, Keith, she is completely out of your league."

I couldn't look away. As hard as I tried to look away, my eyes kept going back to Erica's strong thighs, her shapely calves, and her tight pink tennis shorts. She just smiled, acting outwardly like she didn't notice my stares, but when Jean wasn't looking she'd wink or give me a knowing smile.

After we ate our ice cream, Jean went to the ladies' room. She tended to have to urinate every twenty minutes because she drank upwards of ten bottles of wine every day, coupled with two pots of coffee and a fifth of bourbon. This consumption also caused her to pass out fairly early in the evening, usually around seven o'clock, but she still had trouble getting up in the morning for work and I'd have to shake her and sing her that "Red, Red Wine" song to get her up.

Jean had passed out early again when the phone rang at nine o'clock that night. When I answered it I was surprised to hear Erica's voice on the other end.

"Is she passed out yet?" she asked after I said hello.

"Um... do you want me to wake her?"

"No, I wanted to talk to you, Keith. You're a sick little monkey, you know."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you it's just that you're really beautiful..."

"And you are stuck with that alcoholic cow and she treats you like shit and you wish you could be with me, right?"

"Well, yeah, I wish, but you'd never be interested in me. Besides, Jean is your friend, right?"

"Yeah, we've known each other for years, but she's nothing like she used to be. She's just mean and angry now. So, tell me, did you fantasize about me after you got home today?"

"Of course not..."

"Oh, come on now, be honest with me. I bet you got home and rushed into the bathroom and started beating off while thinking about me the moment you got home."

I sat in silence on my end of the phone call, speechless. She was right.

"It's okay, sweetie, I'm not mad at you. I want you to fantasize about me and I want you to jerk off thinking about me, but I want you to do it three times a day, every day, until I tell you to stop."

I remained speechless, but now my jaw fell open.

"I know that means you won't have any energy left for Jean, but I don't want you to have any energy for her. I want you to think only about me."

"Okay," I said quietly while trembling with a combination of shock and excitement.

"In a few weeks I'm going to see Jean again, just the two of us this time, and I'm going to ask her about how her sex life is going. I want her to give me a very sad report about how you just don't seem interested anymore and you can't even get it up for her."

"But..."

"Sweetie, if you follow my instructions you'll make me very happy, and when I'm sure you have, then I'm going to give you a big surprise. What's your favorite part of my body?"

"Your legs..."

"That's what I thought. You were staring at them for so long it got me all wet. Did you know that?"

"No..."

"Would you like me to come over in my pink shorts so you can beat off ON my legs?"

I suddenly got an erection that threatened to burst the seams of my jeans. I was speechless again.

"I guess not." She laughed, not at me but because she knew I wanted her to come over but was too scared to ask or even say 'yes.'

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, "I know you are just messing with me and I'm sorry if I was creepy staring at you at the ice cream place... I should go..."

"Are you going to beat off thinking about me before going to bed?"

I paused, said "yes," and hung up the phone.

It might not have been three times a day every day, but Erica stayed on my mind, and I kept fantasizing about her and her gorgeous legs. There was one Sunday where I got myself off five times fantasizing about her. Whenever Jean wanted to have sex, which wasn't more than a couple times a week, I would be unable to get an erection. The combination of my frequent masturbation and the fact that I didn't find her physically appealing were major factors, but I also had a weird desire not to disappoint Erica.

"I'm meeting Erica for lunch today," Jean told me one day. "I'd bring you, but I'm pretty sure you creeped her out the last time."

"Okay," I said and turned back to my computer where I was doing fourth grade level math puzzles for no reason other than genuine dissatisfaction with the alternatives.

When Jean returned, I had gotten myself off twice while looking at pictures of women's legs on the Web that looked similar to Erica's legs. When Jean wasn't home I had gotten used to saying Erica's name out loud while masturbating and it made my orgasms more intense.

"So," Jean said after ordering me to make her a pitcher of manhattans, "Erica says her boyfriend never has any trouble getting it up when she wants to have sex with him."

"Um, why are you telling me that? Way too much information, don't you think?"

"The reason I'm telling you that is that she asked me how our sex life was and I told her it was pretty much nonexistent and that you can't even get it up anymore. She said that was pathetic and maybe I should find another boyfriend."

Jean could get very mad and be very cruel, but she hadn't been lately. When she wanted to have sex and I made excuses or had trouble getting an erection, she always said she understood and that we could "try again later." The thing was, "later" never came.

"Maybe you should see a doctor or get some Viagra or something," she said. "I'm getting sick of being the only one of my friends who doesn't get laid ever."

"I'll make an appointment to see someone," I told her, my voice getting high and shaky. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it bothered you so much."

"Erica is coming over tomorrow night to hang out with me," Jean told me. "See if you can clean this dump up a little and try not to be such a pathetic wimp for once. I don't want her to think I'm dating a complete loser. I mean, she knows you can't get it up, so she already thinks you're kind of a loser, so just try to have some balls."

The next night, just before Erica arrived, Jean had me set up the liquor bottles and mixers so it looked like our kitchen was a bar. After I cleaned up, most of which was Jean's mess, took a shower and got dressed, the doorbell rang. Erica had arrived.

"I didn't know you guys were getting dressed up," she said with her understanding laugh. "I figured we were just hanging out and I came straight from tennis."

"That's okay," Jean told her. "I just put on what I had clean, this isn't dressy, just what was on my dresser."

I had been waiting in the kitchen and when they came in, Erica was wearing very short white shorts, a pink t-shirt, ankle socks and sneakers. She waved to me and winked, then asked if I would mix her a rum and coke.

"Heavy on the rum, with lots of ice," she said.

"I gotta pee," Jean said, then looked at me and said, "Behave yourself around my friend."

After Jean closed the bathroom door, Erica told me to sit down next to her on the couch.

"See, I told you I'd have a surprise for you if you were a good boy and did what I said. How many times have you cum thinking about me today?"

"Once, this morning," I said, looking down at the floor. "I knew you were coming over and..."

"Look at me, sweetie," she said and put her fingers under my chin to lift my face up so I was looking into her beautiful blue eyes.

"I haven't been able to think about anything but you," I told her and swallowed hard. "I think I'm going crazy fantasizing about you so much, not just when I masturbate but I daydream and..."

"I know you do, Keith. It's okay."

"Jean thinks I'm not able to, you know."

"I know, she told me. I wanted to tell her that's because you only get it up for me, but that's our little secret. Now, tell me, do you want me to come over here and visit in shorts like this?"

"Oh gosh, yes, please," I stuttered. "You are so beautiful and your legs are amazing."

"Jean trusts me," Erica said, stretching her left leg out in front of her and flexing her ankle back and forth. "I'm going to keep asking her privately about her sex life with you. If I hear that she got laid, or even if I hear that you got an erection with her, you'll never see these legs again."

I nodded silently.

"I have a post office box. I use it for different things, but I want to give you the number. It is at the post office in town. I want you to write me a love letter every day. I want you to write about how much you love me, how you can't live without me, all that kind of stuff, and I want you to impress me. Of course, I want you to keep beating off while fantasizing about me as well, but don't talk about that in the letters."

"I don't know..."

"Don't know what? You do love me, don't you Keith?"

I stuttered haplessly as I tried to respond, then I looked into her eyes and felt my body fluttering and buzzing. "Oh yes, I do love you, Erica, I love you more than anything."

"Close your eyes," she said with a wicked smile.

As I closed my eyes, she took my right hand and put it on top of her bare thigh. I shuddered and she pulled my hand away and looked over at my crotch.

"Well, you're hard now. Better not let Jean find out," she grinned.

Jean was just coming back from the bathroom and Erica picked her drink up and was sipping it as Jean walked back into the room.

"My boyfriend bothering you?" Jean asked after seeing me sitting next to Erica on the couch.

"Not at all," Erica said, smiling. "He was just telling me about how much he enjoys watching tennis, especially women's tennis."

"Yeah, I bet," Jean said, shaking her head as she turned her attention to the ancient record player she used to incessantly play pop music from the early 1970s. "He likes looking at women in short skirts is all."

"Go to the bathroom and beat off for me, right now," Erica whispered in my ear. "You're not going to be able to hide that bulge from her and its mine, not hers."

Jean went into the kitchen to fill her giant 36 ounce goblet with box wine. As she did so, I got up and kept my back to her as I walked to the bathroom. I turned for a moment to look at Erica, sitting on the couch with her legs apart. She smiled and reached down to pull her shorts to the side enough to reveal her smooth, hairless vagina. Then she let her shorts return to their normal position and closed and crossed her amazing legs.

She winked and smiled at me and I walked sideways into the wall before pulling myself together and rushing off to the bathroom like a horny adolescent.

I locked the door and took off my pants. My four inch cock was hard as a rock and throbbing. Shaking and sweating, knocking things over as I tried to find the baby lotion I used to masturbate, I tried to keep it together and make it look to Jean like I was just making a normal visit to the bathroom.

With my pants off, I sat down on the toilet and applied the lotion to my achingly hard erection. I hadn't been able to stop thinking about and fantasizing about Erica since our first meeting. Thoughts of her dominated my every thought and I had for weeks dreamed about her coming to the house, or seeing her out somewhere, that I could see her and her incredibly beautiful body.

And those legs, those impossibly perfect legs, long and tanned, athletic to the point of being toned but not head-crushingly muscular, all leading up to that smooth, hairless vagina with lips that glistened like a flower dipped in morning dew.

I was stroking hard and fast, biting my lip to keep from making any audible sound. I closed my eyes and pictured Erica on the couch, calling to me, letting me touch her thigh again, showing me her pussy again, demanding that I write her love letters and masturbate while thinking about her.

My teeth lost their grip on my lip as I got close to orgasm and I moaned out "Erica" over and over, quietly at first but getting louder every time. 

"ERICA!" I yelled out as I lost my grip on my greased up cock, my still clenched fist hit the wall by the side of the toilet, and I started shooting semen wildly in all directions.

There was a banging on the bathroom door and I tried to pull myself together. Jean's voice was calling out as she banged on the door.

"What the fuck are you doing in there?" she was saying. "Are you okay?"

It took me a minute or two to catch my breath and I called back, "I'll be out in a minute."

"Are you having issues?" she replied with a laugh. "It sounds like you're calling for Erica."

"No, no," I said back. "I was yelling out 'Jericho' as this is something I tend to yell out when I am having an obstinate bowel movement."

"What the fuck? Why are you talking like that?"

"I don't know," I said. "I'm having a rough time with, well, you know. I'll be out in a minute."

When I got back out to the living room, after getting dressed, pulling myself together, and splashing cold water on my face, Jean was sucking down wine and smoking a cigar while Erica sat on the couch, her beautiful legs crossed, with a very wide grin on her face.

"Why were you yelling out my name in the bathroom?" she asked me before I had a chance to sit down.

"What? No, I wasn't doing that."

"Were you jacking off in the bathroom while yelling out my name?"

"We both think that's what you were doing," Jean said between puffs on her cigar.

"Seriously?" I asked. "You've got to be kidding."

Jean walked out of the room, went into the spare bedroom and started banging things around. Erica looked at me with a worried expression and then smiled when Jean came out with a suitcase.

"Tell me the truth," she said angrily. "Were you jacking off in my bathroom thinking about my friend and yelling out her name when you can't even get it up for me, your fucking girlfriend?"

"I'm in love with her," I blurted out. "I'm totally in love with Erica."

Erica smiled and watched as Jean put her cigar out in my beer mug and kicked the suitcase towards me. "What are you, some kind of fucking psycho? You're in love with her because she looks hot in tennis shorts? You just fucking met her and we've been together for two years. You don't even know her. Get the fuck out of MY apartment."

"I should leave," Erica said and calmly stood up. "I'm sorry about this, Jean, I had no idea. I mean, yeah, I guess I figured he had a little thing for me with the way he looks at me, but this is just crazy."

"Both of you just get the fuck out and leave me alone. GET OUT!"

I went to the bedroom to put what I could in the suitcase and try to get out as fast as possible while Erica apologized to Jean in the living room. I could hear Jean telling her, "No, you didn't do anything, he's just a fucking pervert, he's obsessed with women's legs and feet."

"Feet?" I heard Erica say.

"Yeah, legs and feet, if you don't believe me you should see his secret porn stash."

"I had no idea," Erica said. "I'll have to remember that one."

"Look, thanks for coming over, but I really want to be alone right now."

Erica was still out in the street outside the apartment, standing next to her car and smoking a cigarette. Her car was parked in front of mine, so as I carried my overstuffed suitcase to my car she watched me with a smile.

"I'm really sorry, but I didn't tell you to yell out my name like that, not that I didn't enjoy hearing you yelling out my name when you came."

"Do you want to go somewhere?" I asked. "You know, to talk? Now that Jean has kicked me out, maybe we could, you know, date?"

"Seriously, Keith? You know I have a boyfriend. I don't want to date you or have a relationship like that with you."

"What do you want?"

"I want you to worship me, to worship the ground I walk on, and to do whatever I say whenever I say. I love the way you look at me, so desperate to have me but knowing I'm way out of your league."

I stared at her, not knowing what to say, and she walked up alongside me, put her arm around my shoulder, and then lifted her left leg so she could rub her knee up against my crotch.

"You BETTER be able to get it up again," she whispered in my ear. "If you can't, this will be the last chance you have to beat off in my car while staring at my beautiful legs."

She took me by the hand and walked towards her car with me following behind like a puppy. She stopped at the passenger side door and opened it and told me to get in. I did as she said, without saying a word, and she got behind the wheel and started the engine.

"We'll go up the street a couple of blocks, to the parking lot of the 7-11," she said as she put the car into gear and started driving. "There is a spot around the back that is dark and quiet and we shouldn't have anyone bother us there."

She parked in the aforementioned spot and stopped the car. She turned off the lights, killed the engine and turned towards me.

"Are you hard for me yet?" she asked with a piercing look.

"I... I... just got off, I don't know if I can, please don't..."

"I am letting you stare at my thighs, my beautiful fucking thighs that I get waxed every week, that I take to the tanning booth twice a week, that I work out every day when I play tennis, and you can't get hard for me? Do you want to EVER see me and my legs again?"

"Yes, I want to, I want to so much," I sputtered nervously as I tried to unbutton and unzip my pants. My cock was about halfway to an erection that was ignited by the combination of looking at her legs and her angry words. Not wanting to disappoint her, I began tugging and stroking my semi-erect penis desperately trying to get it fully erect.

"You realize you have a really small dick," Erica laughed. "It shouldn't be THAT difficult to get it hard. It isn't like you need a lot of blood flow to get THAT hard."

I kept pulling and stretching, but I was terrified of not being able to get hard and that made it more difficult to get hard. Tears started welling up in my eyes and I was crying as I realized my penis was getting softer rather than harder and Erica was sighing with disappointment.


Absolute Devotion Ch. 01



"Do you know that last night my boyfriend fucked me, right after eight o'clock, and then we went out on the balcony for a cigarette and a glass of wine. We were probably out there for twenty minutes and then we went back inside and he fucked me again. He had no trouble getting his eight inch cock hard for me twice in twenty minutes."

"Just give me a minute," I said, still trying to beat my flaccid penis back to life.

Erica reached down and pulled off her right sneaker and sock. Then she slid her seat back and pulled her right knee up to her chest. I looked down to see her bare foot, with perfectly manicured hot pink toenails, long toes, high arches, and the most perfect heel I've ever seen.

"Oh... WOW..." I gasped and reached down to find my cock was completely hard.

"You have two minutes to cum or I'm leaving you here and you'll never see me again," she said. "Start slapping that carrot."

I started beating off furiously, feeling the sting from jerking too fast and hard without any lubrication. I was getting sore and tired but I kept going, at a furious pace while staring at Erica's gorgeous foot and drooling on myself.

"The legs were just an appetizer for you," Erica was saying while I beat off. "I see what really rocks your boat. I bet you would tear that little pecker out of its socket for the chance to kiss my feet, wouldn't you."

"YES I WOULD!" I screamed so loudly that people on the street turned and looked in the direction of Erica's car. As I screamed, I came, barely ejaculating more than a sorrowful little drizzle.

I fell back against the headrest of the passenger seat and closed my eyes. I tried to catch my breath, but I was hyperventilating and it took me a couple of minutes to calm down. After I did, and opened my eyes, Erica was looking at me with a smile.

"That was beautiful," she said. "Now I know how much you really want me."

She put her sock and sneaker back on and started up the car. She drove back to the apartment I used to share with Jean and let me out by my car.

"I want a love letter every day," she told me. "I want them by postal mail, not email, but watch your email over the next day or so. I'm thinking of sending you a present."



Absolute Devotion Ch. 02



After Erica drove off I realized I wasn't sure where I was going. I decided to get a motel room for the night and figure it out in the morning. I made enough money to get my own small apartment, but that would take time. There were friends I could stay with, but I found myself turning away from that option for a reason that was more than a little bizarre.

I didn't want anything to interfere with my "relationship" with Erica. I imagined having my own place would give her a chance to come over in her short shorts and taunt and tease me. As much as I wanted to be with her, to be her boyfriend and make love to her, the longer I continued to constantly fantasize about her, masturbate while thinking about her, and otherwise obsess completely over her, the more I found myself enjoying this role.

Once I got to the motel room and unpacked my things, I went to sleep. In the morning I walked down to the store on the corner to buy writing paper and envelopes so I could write love letters to Erica.

I wrote about how beautiful she was in every way, how when she smiled at me it made all my worries and cares go away, and how my life would be incomplete without her in it.

I knew that to most people this would seem strange and wrong. From the outside it would look like I was a pathetic fool, throwing myself at a woman who had no intention of being with me as a traditional girlfriend. She treated me like an inferior, like I was a peasant and she was a queen, but I was growing to love our strange relationship more than any relationship I'd had with a woman in the past.

Before Jean there had been two other women who had filled the role of girlfriend in my life. Elizabeth was the first, a bookish woman who dressed very conservatively and devoted herself to learning as much about everything as she could. She barely paid any attention to me, and when we made love she just lay there beneath me, never moving or reacting in any way to my attempts to arouse or excite her. Sometimes she'd be reading a book while we made love, and I always cringed when she'd inevitably sigh and say, "Aren't you done yet?"

After Elizabeth there was Lisa. I met her in a coffee shop when I was trying to organize a group to protest construction of a strip mall on sacred Indian burial grounds. Only three people came to my meeting on the topic. Lisa was one and the other two were a loudmouthed old man who wanted to yell about every injustice he perceived in the world and a little person who smelled like ham. Things moved quickly with Lisa. We slept together on the first date, we moved in together two weeks later, and within six months she had strip mined my bank accounts, maxed out my credit cards, and disappeared without a trace.

Most of my attempts to approach women and ask them for a date ended badly. One time I approached a woman at a meeting of a homeowner's association I didn't belong to and asked if she would like to have a drink with me sometime. Everyone at the meeting started laughing at me and then I was thrown out of the meeting after being unable to verify that I lived in the neighborhood.

I would have killed an entire family, including cousins and grandparents, to be Erica's boyfriend. That wasn't going to happen, at least not in the traditional sense. On the plus side, this meant that I wouldn't do time in prison, but it also meant something more.

I fantasized about women like Erica, women who were so beautiful that their mere presence could light up a dark room, but I always knew I would never be with one. I played in a different league where women like Elizabeth, Lisa and Jean were the only women who had any interest in me at all.

Those relationships were incredibly unsatisfying. They didn't pay any real attention to me, what I had to say, or what I was interested in. The sex was boring, repetitive, and deeply unsatisfying.

I'd turned to porn and masturbation to satisfy my sexual desires because none of my girlfriends had ever come close to giving me the kind of sexual satisfaction I craved.

Most of all, my ex-girlfriends had all treated me like dirt. It was always, "Clean the kitchen" and "Don't wear those shoes" or "Why do you have such a small dick?" They ordered me around and never took anything I said seriously. I didn't mind being ordered around, but I hated the mundane things they ordered me to do. There was only so much satisfaction to be gained by scrubbing pots in my underwear while Jean drank wine and listened to Leif Garrett music.

Now Erica, who had the most incredible body I'd ever seen, wanted me to worship her and do everything she said. She wanted me to masturbate while fantasizing about her and to write her love letters every day. She wanted me to be at her beck and call like a dog.

It was the perfect relationship for me.

I finished my first love letter to Erica and drove to the post office. I told them it was a local delivery and could they please put it in her post office box for me that day. The clerk told me he would if I slipped him a fiver, which I quickly agreed to. 

When I got back to the motel and checked my email on my laptop, there was an email from an address I didn't recognize. The subject line read "The present I promised you." I opened it and saw there was an attachment, a photograph of some kind. All the email said was "You should be able to get off more than three times today" and was only signed "XOXOXOXO."

I opened the attachment excitedly, wondering what it might be. The motel's WiFi was hideously slow, so it took time to download. It was a large file, a picture that was larger than the screen on my computer. It was very high density and amazingly clear.

She had sent a photograph of her left foot that was life sized and so clear it was as if it were dangling right in front of my face begging for my love and affection.

It was like it was Christmas. After years of surfing the web and masturbating to pictures of women's feet and legs I had received the most perfect picture of the most perfect foot imaginable, and it belonged to a woman I knew and loved. My heart was racing, my body was shaking, and my cock was so hard it felt as if it were going to explode.

It took me no more than thirty seconds to get myself off while looking at the picture. Every curve, every wrinkle, every tiny detail of Erica's gorgeous foot was right there in front of me. It seemed to be pointing up in the air and curled just enough to highlight the soft, wrinkled skin of her foot's wonderfully high arch. Each of her long toes was bent down and her big toe, with its perfectly manicured pink toenail, glistened with just a slight hint of sweat or oil. It was begging me to suck on it. 

Her skin was so flawless, and that extended to her foot, which showed no sign of cracked skin or callouses. She had to use some kind of skin care product, a cream or oil of some kind, to keep her foot so perfect and so flawless. Her heel, which I dreamed of biting in a loving way, looked so strong and so delicate at the same time.

Even after my orgasm, I could not look away, and my cock remained fully erect. I started talking to the picture, telling it how beautiful it was, that I loved it, and would treasure it forever.

With tears in my eyes I started masturbating again with a furious passion. I was crying as I called out Erica's name, over and over again, professing my love for her. After I came the second time, I went to the bathroom and took a cold shower. I could not stop shaking and crying. I could not stop thinking about Erica and how much I wished I could be with her.

Looking at my tear-stained face in the mirror after my shower, I told myself, "This is more than I deserve and I can't believe how happy I am."

I was happy, but part of me kept saying I was sick, this was wrong, and that I was being ridiculed and made fun of by this woman. I didn't care. This was easily the most sexually fulfilling relationship of my life and for the first time ever I was in love.

I went back to my laptop and saw Erica's foot in all its glorious detail and I found myself getting hard again. It took me a half hour to get off the third time, but after I did I sent a return email that said, "Three times in an hour. Thank you, my love."

A reply came moments later that read, "You can do better. XOXOXO."

I drove to the computer store and got the biggest screen available that was compatible with my laptop. It cost me a great deal of money, but I didn't care. I wanted a screen that was large enough for me to put the entirety of Erica's foot in full detail on it. My laptop was unable to display the entire photograph at one time at full size and I wanted to rectify that before spending the afternoon looking at it and worshipping it.

I called the sex therapist that Jean had sent me to after I started to show a lack of interest in sex with her and an inability to get an erection. I had told her I didn't want to take any erectile dysfunction medication when I had seen her before, mostly because I didn't want there to be any chance of getting an erection with Jean and disappointing Erica, but now I told her I'd changed my mind.

"Let me ask you," I said after she wrote a note to my doctor recommending he give me a prescription for an erectile dysfunction medicine, "Is there anything I can take that will help me be able to get, you know, an erection more often and have more orgasms?"

"Well, you take this medication as needed, as in whenever you are about to have sex."

"This is the thing, I've always had trouble getting an erection more than once per day. My girlfriend told me that her friend's boyfriend regularly has sex with her three times a night. Is that unusual?"

"It all depends on the person," she told me. "I take it your girlfriend wishes you could be the kind of lover her friend's boyfriend is?"

"She mentions it, especially when, you know, I can't get it up. When I came to see you before I didn't want to admit I had a problem, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized it isn't going to just pass. I'd like to become the kind of lover my girlfriend deserves."

"And she wants you to be able to make love to her three times in a night?"

"To be honest, I'd like to make it four so she'll shut up about how her friend's boyfriend is so great in bed."

She laughed. "There are different treatments and medications these days, but as far as what you're asking, to go from being a man who has trouble getting an erection to start with to a man who gets an erection four times in a night is not really possible. Even if it were, it isn't something I'd recommend. This kind of change in your sex life is something best done gradually, with therapy combined with medication and treatment."

"Is there something out there that you wouldn't recommend? I mean, you said..."

"I said I wouldn't recommend that kind of radical treatment even if it were available."

"Is there something out there like that?"

"Not that any doctor or therapist who wanted to keep practicing would recommend."

"So, there is something?"

"You want to go from a man who can't get an erection at all to the world's greatest lover overnight. Do you know what you are asking for?"

"Yes, I need to do this."

"There is this man who used to be one of the best doctors in the area of sexual dysfunction. He lost his license to practice because he used radical therapies that were rejected by the FDA and everyone else with half a brain."

"Can he help me?"

"I don't know if you can really call it helping you, but what you say you want is basically what he tried to do. Before he lost his license and practice and went completely mad he announced he was going to create what he called 'an army of sexual supermen.' He's completely insane."

"What's wrong with making men into better lovers?"

"His test subjects lost their ability to reason. They became obsessed with sex to the point of not being able to engage in any kind of critical thinking. They lost the ability to make moral judgments. They became like human sex robots, only good for one thing. Most of them were sold to an Eastern European sex trafficking ring because no one knew what to do with them."

"Wow."

"Yeah, so I want you to reconsider what you think you want and concentrate on what I recommend, which is medication combined with therapy and treatment while allowing for change to happen gradually."

"I don't have time for that. Where can I find this doctor?"

"One of his test subjects is still in the city. Why don't I see if he'll sit down and talk to you. He's in a sex addiction recovery group trying to fight against his urge to have constant sex. Maybe meeting him will help you see the light."

The meeting was arranged and I met Bill, the sex addict who had received treatment from the man who called himself Doctor Love. He met me at the library, saying it was one of the few places he wasn't tempted to try to fuck someone.

Immediately after meeting me and exchanging pleasantries, Bill went into the long and detailed story of how he met Doctor Love, became one of his test subjects, and began needing to have sex constantly. He told me he spent his entire life savings, apparently a sizable fortune, on a week at a resort populated by high-priced call girls. There he'd compulsively had sex twenty times a day and still was left wanting more. He'd turned to masturbation to relieve his compulsion when he could find no willing partners.

"How many times did you get off in a day when you did that?" I asked.

"I didn't count, but I'd jack off, drink a glass of water, jack off again, have some breakfast, and then jack off again. The whole day was like that. Every day was like that."

"How did you stop?"

"Chemical castration. I flew to Bolivia where there is a farmer who does it using some chemistry set they made for kids in the 1970s."

"It was that bad?"

"It was worse than bad. Listen to your therapist, but if you don't want to heed my warnings, Doctor Love is operating out of a basement apartment in shantytown. He lives beneath a flower shop, which isn't hard to find because it is the only flower shop in shantytown."

"The only way I can make the woman I love happy is to cum over and over again all day long. I don't care about the side effects. I just want to make her happy."

"You're an idiot."

I found Doctor Love and started to explain my predicament to him. He didn't seem to care about the particulars, only that he'd found a new test subject. He brought me into his lab, a filthy room that contained an examination table and several medical carts and devices that looked like they came from a 1950s era mental hospital.

I started to change my mind when I saw his lab, but then I thought about Erica and how she said I could do better than three orgasms in an hour after I saw the picture of her beautiful foot. I wanted to please her and if Doctor Love could turn me into an insatiable sexual superman, it was worth any risk involved.

He hit me in the back of the head with a hammer, using a great deal of force and instantly knocked me unconscious. When I woke up I was strapped to the examination table with my genitals enclosed in a Ziploc bag.

"Almost complete," Doctor Love said in an excited tone. "Your woman is going to be so pleased with you."

I nodded and found myself feeling very tired. Moments later I fell asleep. When I woke up I was walking down the street in a green track suit. I didn't immediately recognize where I was, but I could feel that I had an erection straining against the fabric of my track suit.

Two women who were obviously prostitutes based on their outfits stepped out of an alley and asked if I "wanted to party." The offer greatly interested me, but I thought about Erica and my devotion to her and declined the proposal. Instead I asked where I was and how I could get back home.

They recommended a bus that would take me in the right direction, but I decided to call a cab instead after realizing my wallet, cell phone, and keys were in a fanny pack strapped around my waist. I took them out, discarded the fanny pack, and called for a cab.

When I got back to my motel room, I pulled up the picture of Erica's foot on my new giant computer screen and masturbated furiously for thirty seconds before getting off. My erection did not go down, so I masturbated again and again while staring at the picture and moaning Erica's name over and over.

Still hard, but out of breath, I opened my email and sent another note to the email address that had sent me the photograph.

"Ten times so far," I wrote. "I love you with all my heart."

The response came ten minutes later. "I'm proud of you, my sick little monkey. XOXOXO."

I found myself masturbating while looking at the email and thinking about Erica. Then another email popped up from her.

"I'm playing tennis at the club at 3pm. Come cheer me on. XOXOXO."

My heart skipped a beat and I smiled so broadly my cheeks started to hurt as much as my sore, but very erect, penis. I got off again and then took a shower and got dressed and drove to the tennis club. There was some kind of amateur tournament going on and there were four courts. There were men playing on two of the courts and women on the other two. There were a dozen or so people cheering on their friends and family at each court, but I didn't see Erica. It was only two-thirty, I had arrived early, so I sat down and waited for her match to start.

"Hi there," I heard Erica's voice say from behind me as her hands came around either side of my head and covered my eyes. "Guess who."

"The love of my life?"

"Very good answer," she said as she pulled her hands away from my eyes and came around to sit down next to me. "I'm glad you came... so much today. I'm also glad you came to see my match."

She was wearing her tight pink tennis shorts along with white sneakers and ankle socks. Her perfect legs were shining in the sun, and when she saw how intently I was staring at her legs she told me, "I found this great sunblock that makes my legs look shiny. I bet you want to jack off on them right now, don't you?"

"More than anything," I confessed.

"More than you want to make love to me?" she said with an arched eyebrow.

"I'm not worthy of that," I told her.

"What if I told you that I wanted you to make love to me?"

"I would think you were just teasing me."

"And you would be right," she said with a smile. "I tell you what, though. My boyfriend Mike fucked the shit out of me last night. It was probably the best sex I've ever had. It started with me going down on him in the kitchen after dinner. I was on my knees taking his whole cock down my throat and he grabs my head and just starts throat fucking me without mercy. I don't usually gag when I suck cock, but he had me gagging on it last night..."

A man was waving at Erica and motioning for her to come down to the court. She patted me on the knee and said, "I gotta go, but I'll be listening for your cheers," before getting up and scampering down to the court.

I was almost hyperventilating as I listened to Erica's story of sex with Mike. It conjured so many images in my mind. With having her so close to me, her bare thighs close enough to touch if I only had the courage to do so, I felt I was losing my mind. I wanted desperately to jerk myself off right in the stands, but the people gathered to watch the matches would see me and probably have me arrested.

I resisted the temptation and waited as Erica got onto the court with her tennis racket. She looked so beautiful, so strong, so much like a goddess that I could not look away. She saw me staring at her and blew a kiss in my direction which made my heart stop for a moment before beating again.

Everyone was sitting quietly while watching the match, with the occasional groan or clap when someone scored a particularly notable point. The woman playing Erica looked out of shape and inexperienced at playing tennis. Erica won the first set in a sweep and then looked up at me, making a sad, puppy dog face and mouthing the words "Why aren't you cheering?"




Absolute Devotion Ch. 02



It felt bad to cheer for someone who was absolutely routing their opponent. The poor girl Erica was destroying on the court looked upset and like she had completely given up on even trying. Erica aced her next serve and her opponent threw down her racket in disgust. She walked over to the line judge and talked to him for a minute before it was announced that she was conceding the match.

Erica walked off the court after glaring angrily at me. She went into the clubhouse and emerged wearing sweatpants. As she came up into the stands towards me, I could tell that she was upset with me.

"I asked you to come here and cheer for me," she said. "I didn't hear you cheer ONCE."

"But you were killing that poor girl," I whined. "It didn't seem right."

"I asked you to come here and CHEER for me, monkey boy. When I ask you to do something, you do it. Now I have to punish you. See these sweatpants? Unless you start behaving yourself you will never see my legs again. Now, take me back to your motel room."

"Yes, Erica," I said, looking down at the ground, my erection still very much present. I didn't know why she wanted to come to my motel room, but I was not going to disobey her again.

She told me to open my laptop and turn it on. I did exactly as she asked and she took it away from me. She found the picture of her foot, which was still open on the big screen, and deleted it from my files.

"Are there any other copies?" she asked after opening my email and deleting the original email and then permanently erasing the picture and the email from my computer.

"No, Erica, there aren't any other copies," I said, tears welling up in my eyes as I realized I would no longer be able to see the incredible picture of her gorgeous foot.

"I got your letter today. I'm impressed you got it to me so quickly," she said. "Get on your knees in front of me, monkey boy."

I knelt down quietly in front of her and stared down at the floor, trying to hide my tears.

"I want you to write me another one and I better get it when I check my post office box. The first one was so beautiful, showed so much heart and soul that if it came from a real man I might be tempted to run away with him."

"I know you would never run away with me, Erica. I'm not worthy of your love."

"Tomorrow I'm playing another match and I expect you to be there and you better be cheering me this time," she said.

"Yes, Erica."

"From now on I want you to call me Miss Erica, okay?"

"Yes, Miss Erica," I said, still staring at the floor.

"I'm going to leave now, but when I close that door behind me I'm going to stand out there for a few minutes. I better hear you jacking off and calling out my name or I will be very upset."

I don't know if she really waited outside the door or not. She never came back and I never heard or saw her out there, but if she did, I know she would have liked what she heard. I lubricated myself with a special lotion I'd gotten that was designed specifically as a sexual lubricant and began masturbating immediately. I called out her name loudly and continuously, making statements like "I love you Miss Erica" and "Miss Erica is the most beautiful woman in the world" and "I am masturbating for you, Miss Erica."

I grieved the loss of the picture of Erica's foot more than I grieved the loss of any girlfriend I'd ever had. I was upset at myself for letting her down and disappointing her by not cheering for her during her lopsided tennis match. I was determined to make it up to her.

I went to the store and bought several sheets of poster board paper, the kind used to make the kind of placards and signs held up at sporting events. On one I wrote "I love Miss Erica" with a big red heart in place of the word "love." On another I wrote "Miss Erica rocks" and on another I wrote "Kill her Miss Erica."

I then went to the mall where I knew there was a store that made custom t-shirts. I had them make one that said "Miss Erica's #1 Fan" in big letters with hearts surrounding the words. I spent the rest of the night masturbating over and over again while thinking about her and imagining her forgiving me and letting me kiss her beautiful feet.

The next day I continued masturbating while thinking about her. I was tempted to look for other pictures of women's feet on the web, but resisted the temptation because I didn't want to think about or look at any woman other than Erica. When the time came to get ready to go to her tennis match, I put on my special new t-shirt, rolled up my signs, and drove to the tennis club.

She didn't come up to the stands to see me, but when I finally saw her, walking across the court in her pink tennis shorts, my heart started beating rapidly. I could see the muscles in her thighs and calves flex and relax with every stride she took, the perfect lines of her gorgeous legs shining in the sunlight, and my breathing got so heavy that a woman sitting in the stands came over to me and asked, "Are you okay?"

I just nodded quietly. There were more people in the stands than there had been the other day. It was the second round of the tournament and would be more competitive.

At last, Erica's match was beginning. Her opponent looked strong. She was a tall woman who looked like she worked out regularly and had biceps like iron and very muscular legs. I found myself worried that she would destroy my beloved Erica, who was strong but undeniably feminine in the traditional sense.

As Erica prepared to serve to begin the match, I held up my first sign, the one that said "I heart Miss Erica." She did not look in my direction, but some of the people in the stands began looking at me funny. Erica served and there was a lengthy volley before Erica's opponent hit her return out of bounds and the point was awarded to my beloved.

I got up on my feet and cheered loudly. I continued to cheer every time Erica scored a point and I booed whenever her opponent won a point. Erica narrowly won the first set and after she did, I held up the sign that said "Miss Erica Rocks!" and yelled out the phrase as I did so.

She didn't look at me at all during the match, and after she lost the second set, forcing a deciding third set, I held up the "Kill her Miss Erica" sign and yelled out "You can do it Miss Erica! You can do it!"

She didn't look at me, but I could see a smile come across her face that I was sure came as a result of my actions. It warmed my heart and I began feeling good about myself again. I continued to cheer her on, my erection nearly bursting in my pants as I kept looking at her legs and how wonderfully they moved with grace and precision around the court.

During the third set, a man who worked for the tennis club came over to me and told me I needed to "tone it down" or I would have to leave. I told him I was there to cheer for my girl and he told me that I was upsetting the other people in the stands. I agreed to tone it down, but I continued to cheer, just not as loudly or obnoxiously.

Erica won the final set and the match and I rose up and clapped and cheered wildly. People had moved away from me in the stands, but I ignored them. All I cared about was Erica and making her happy with me again.

After the match ended, I waited in the stands, hoping Erica would come and see me. She didn't, and I left the tennis club feeling very disappointed and sad. She hadn't forgiven me. I needed to do more.

When I got home there was an email from the account Erica used to send me the picture of her foot. There was a picture of a pair of strappy high heel shoes, probably taken from a catalog, and a message that said, "Would you like to see me in these?"

I wrote back, "Yes, Miss Erica, I would like to see you in those shoes very much."

"I play in the third round tomorrow at 7pm. Bring your signs and wear your t-shirt. Get yourself off in the stands while I'm playing."

I stared at the message with my mouth open and my eyes widened. I couldn't possibly honor her request. I would get arrested, or worse. I tried to convince myself she was kidding.

When I didn't respond after ten minutes, Erica sent a follow up message.

"Find a way. Don't let me down. XOXOXO."

I wrote back, "I will, Miss Erica, I promise. I love you always and forever."



Absolute Devotion Ch. 03



I managed to figure it out.

Erica wanted me to get myself off in the stands while watching her play in the third round of the Gingersnap Open tennis tournament. I had puzzled over how to make this happen for many hours before I came up with the solution. Luckily I had resolved the problem just before I had to leave to go to the match.

I got some very baggy and well-worn sweatpants from the morbidly obese man who lived across from me at the motel I was living at. There were deep pockets on either side, so I cut openings in bottoms of each pockets. Being an ambidextrous masturbator with a lot of frequent flyer miles, this would come in handy.

I tried the big sweatpants on and then sat down on a replica I had built of the benches in the stands at the tennis club. With my arms filled with signs, toys, and cotton candy, I took turns sliding each of my hands into the pockets of my sweatpants and grabbing my penis. Since the sweatpants were so large and billowy, and my arms were filled with colorful items, it was very difficult to tell that I was masturbating.

I gave the motel manager and his wife twenty dollars to come up to my room and see if they could tell what I was doing while I masturbated using all my props and the sweatpants. They both stared, looking very bored, at me and then asked, "When are you going to start doing whatever it is you are supposed to be doing?"

It was the answer I needed. They couldn't tell what I was doing. I gave them the twenty dollars and sent them on their way.

I was off to the tennis club.

I found a seat away from people and sat down. I pretended to be eating the cotton candy as I waited for Erica's match to start.

The man from the tennis club, who fancied himself as some kind of security officer, walked up to where I was sitting and crossed his arms before speaking to me.

"I'm here to warn you that I don't want to have any problems with you today," he said to me in a very stern tone of voice.

"I'll try not to get too excited cheering for my girl today," I told him, smiling because he had no idea I was going to be masturbating in the stands with help from my big sweatpants and multiple props.

The man sighed. "Look, you realize this isn't Wimbledon or the US Open, right?"

"Yes, this is the Gingersnap Open and Miss Erica is playing and she's the best tennis player ever."

The man shook his head, sighed, and walked away.

Since it was the third round, there were even more people in the stands, and while I tried to stay away from others, two elderly women came and sat down just behind me. They started jawing back and forth about how their granddaughter Brittany was knocked out in the first round and how they were going to "get" the player responsible for "humiliating her like that."

Erica and her opponent came out onto the court and I began cheering loudly. One of the elderly women leaned down and tapped me hard on the shoulder.

It was hard to turn around with so many props in my arms, but I managed to do so in spite of the difficulty.

"That your girl?" one of the elderly women asked me while pointing towards Erica.

"Yes, Miss Erica, I'm her biggest fan."

"She's the one who humiliated my granddaughter in the first round. Bitch doesn't know the first thing about good sportsmanship."

"Excuse me?" I glowered. I found myself standing up to these elderly women, the first time I had ever stood up to anyone in my life. I felt proud.

"Bitch needs a good pussy licking," the other woman said as she used her tongue like a snake twisting through the air in front of her lips, which were encrusted with cheap red lipstick.

"What?" I was completely stunned by the comment.

"I was licking this bitch's pussy once and all of a sudden her left leg goes limp and starts having these spasms like my sister Mildred after she had her first stroke. That leg is just jumping around like it had a mind of its own. She needed hip replacement surgery after I finished eating her out."

"Yeah, Martha, you've told this story a thousand times. We all know, after that she wasn't no bitch no more. Am I right?"

"I'd like to lick that bitch's pussy," Martha told her friend while pointing her bony finger towards Erica. "I bet that thing is a little patch of heaven."

I stood there, barely holding onto the props in my arms, and staring at these women in complete and total shock.

"You ever eat that bitch's pussy?" Martha asked me. "What's it like? Does it taste real good or is it nine kinds of sour?"

"I like to put my fingers in a pussy like hers," the other woman said. "You work enough of your fingers into a bitch's pussy and she comes around to your way of thinking."

I dropped my props and started swinging at the two elderly ladies. Not having any experience at all in fighting, I was unable to land any punches before the security officer and two police officers restrained me and pinned me to the ground.

"It was terrible, officer," Martha was telling one of the cops, "Lana and I were talking about how this was the player, the blonde there, that beat my granddaughter in the first round. We just happened to say that we thought it wasn't very sportsmanlike of this blonde girl to humiliate her the way she did when they played and this man turns around and attacks us!"

I was handcuffed and led away to a police cruiser. I said nothing during the ride, not sure what I could say, but after I was taken to the police station and brought to a desk where a female police detective wanted to interview me, I knew I had to say something.

"This is pretty ridiculous," she said as she looked at my booking information. "It says you physically assaulted two elderly women at an amateur tennis tournament. Seriously?"

"They were saying things about my girl."

"Your girlfriend was playing in the tournament?"

"Well, not exactly my girlfriend, it's a long story, but they were saying things about her that really upset me."

"It says here they said your 'girl' was being unsportsmanlike in beating their granddaughter in an earlier match. Is that what upset you?"

I could see the disbelief on the female detective's face. "Why am I talking to you?" I asked. "I mean, no offense, but isn't this a little, you know, not usually what a detective looks into?"

"I have my reasons," she said and looked the file up and down while studying my face. "What's with the sweatpants? They're really way too big for you."

"I like big sweatpants. Is that a crime?"

"No, just trying to make conversation."

"Look, I got upset at something those ladies said, and maybe I shouldn't, but it was a lot worse than complaining about Miss Erica's sportsmanship."

"Such as?" her right eyebrow raised as she asked.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Are you sure about that?" she said, looking back down at the single page in my file.

"Yeah, pretty sure."

"So, you won't tell me what happened because you think I won't believe you?"

"Correct."

"Did they make any threats, veiled or otherwise, towards your friend?"

"Yes, they did," I said while clenching my fists.

"Why did you bring cotton candy from home for a tennis match?"

"What?"

"You brought cotton candy and a whole bunch of other shit to a tennis match. What's up with that?"

"I don't know."

"Big sweatpants, cotton candy, banners with your friend's name on them, a bunch of toys for kids ages six through twelve... this whole picture is fucking with my head."

"Can we get back to the threats the ladies made towards Miss Erica?"

"Yeah, we can do that, but this whole picture of you at this tennis match with all this shit and the big sweatpants, I can't figure it out. What the fuck, dude?"

"I'm living in a motel room because my girlfriend kicked me out a week ago."

"And I'm supposed to give a shit about that?"

"No, I'm just saying. Sometimes I have to take a lot of my shit with me and I don't always have clean clothes."

"Toys for children ages 6 through 12? Do you have a kid?"

"No, I don't have any children. They were for a nephew."

"I see. It says here you drove your car to the tennis club. Why would you take these toys into the stands when you could have left them in your car? Was your nephew coming to the match?"

"I thought he might."

"You thought he might?"

"I wasn't sure. I wanted to be ready."

"Okay, that is just too fucked up for me to get my head around. Tell me about the elderly ladies threatening your friend."

Detective Haggerty, which was the name she had on her desk, looked up at me and waited for me to talk. She crossed her legs and then brought her left leg over so that her left foot was on her right knee. She was wearing black ankle boots with zippers, and started casually zipping the zipper up and down while I talked. It was hypnotic.

"They said that they were going to, well, basically that they were going to jump her in the dressing room and, um, eat her pussy and stick their fingers in it."

Detective Haggerty stared at me without any reaction. Then she abruptly said, "Okay, that's some serious shit."

"You believe me?"

"I wouldn't have believed you except that you said I wouldn't believe you before you told me, which makes me believe you when you actually did tell me because no one would lie after saying they didn't want to tell a story that they thought someone wouldn't believe."

"Huh?"

Detective Haggerty pulled off the boot on her left foot and then reached under her tube sock with her hand and started scratching at the heel of her foot. I couldn't stop looking, but forced myself to look away, even though I kept trying to get a glimpse of her bare leg or foot.

"Sorry, had an itch," she said. "So, the old ladies were threatening to eat this tennis player's pussy and stick their fingers in it. Do you think they were just talking or did you hear any evidence that they planned to go through with it?"

"One said she'd eaten out this woman to the point where she needed hip replacement surgery."

"Damn, that is one talented lesbo. You got to give her credit on that one," Detective Haggerty said before pulling her sock off completely and itching her heel furiously. "This itch is driving me fucking crazy. I think I got bit by a scorpion or something and I probably have a stinger in my heel."

"Really?" I asked, staring at her bare foot and salivating, knowing it was nowhere near as beautiful as Erica's, but it was hard not to look with it right in front of me.

"You want to take a look for me? See if you can see a stinger in there, right in the bottom of my heel."

"Um, well, I really can't do that," I said, looking down at the floor.

"What are you, an asshole? I just want you to see if I have a scorpion stinger in my heel. It isn't like I asked you to shoot my cousin Vito in the back of Marciano's... oh, wait, I know why you can't see if I have a stinger in my heel. You've got a thing for feet, don't you?"

"No, I just, I don't know, I can't explain."

"I read in a magazine at the hairdressers that people with fetishes are like alcoholics. They have to stay away from the thing they fetishize to avoid being controlled by it. You must have a pretty serious foot fetish, huh?"

"Can we just talk about the old ladies?"

"Yeah, we can do that," she said and laughed while pointing her bare foot at me and saying, "Ooh, don't look at the foot, don't touch the foot, you won't be able to control yourself, look away, look away."

"I have to stay loyal to Miss Erica!" I yelled out suddenly after closing my eyes tightly.

"Excuse me?"

I recoiled in horror at what I had yelled out. I sunk back into my chair and quietly said, "Yes, I have a foot fetish, but I promised Miss Erica I would only look at hers."

"Oh my, isn't that some kind of something," Detective Haggerty said, sliding her foot back into her boot without the sock and without zipping the boot back up. "This woman you call Miss Erica, she is the tennis player the two women were threatening to eat out?"

"Yes."

Another officer walked over to Detective Haggerty and handed her a note. She looked at it, read it, nodded and tossed it onto her desk.

"And you were afraid they would do what they said and that they actually would eat her out and, what was the other thing, shove their fingers inside her?"

"It wasn't that I thought they were really going to do it," I said as I started to cry. "They were being rude and nasty and they wouldn't stop calling her a bitch and other things and I got really mad and started swinging at them."

"Because you are some kind of submissive to Miss Erica, you're in love with her, you have a thing for her feet, and you do anything she says to try to make her happy." Detective Haggerty tossed the file and her pen onto her desk and stood up. "I'm a very good detective. And just so you know, I didn't have an itch, just a suspicion that I needed to confirm."

"Am I going to jail?"

"No, because you didn't land any punches and those ladies declined to press charges, and on top of that they were arrested themselves after grabbing your mistress in the ladies' room and doing exactly what they were threatening to do. So the lesson here is, if you hear two old ladies threatening to go down on a tennis player and shove their fingers in her, go to the police with that shit. Don't keep it to yourself. Say something. If you reported what they were planning instead of swinging at them, Miss Erica wouldn't be dealing with the trauma of what happened to her as a result of your bad decision."

"I didn't think..."

"Yeah, you didn't think. Get out of here. Get out of my police station, pervert."

"Can I get my signs and toys back?" I asked.

"See the desk sergeant, he'll return your weird ass possessions," Detective Haggerty said as she looked down at papers on her desk.

While I was getting my things, the phone rang and the desk sergeant answered. He held the receiver out to me and said, "It's for you."

"Hello?" I said after I picked the phone up.

"If you want to give me a foot massage, meet me in interview room two right now. You've got two minutes to make up your mind," Detective Haggerty's voice said before she hung up.

It sounded like a great opportunity, but I remembered the day when I was still a kid and my father had bought a pig farm. "It sounded like a great opportunity," my father said at the time. And then my mother left him, just like Erica would leave me if she found out I gave Detective Haggerty a foot massage.

I took my things and marched out the door.

Erica had been taken to the emergency room after the attack, so I drove to the hospital immediately. I ran as fast as I could into the hospital, having to hold my oversized sweatpants up with my left hand as I did, until someone could tell me where Erica was.

"She was taken up to intensive care," I was told.

"Really? Is she that bad?"

"You'll have to talk to her doctor about that. Are you family?"

"No, I'm a friend."

The desk clerk looked at my t-shirt and said, "Yeah, I can see that," and laughed. "Second floor, turn right, go down to where all the pylons are piled up and talk to one of the nurses there."

When I got to the pile of pylons, a powerfully built man who fit the "tall, dark, and handsome" profile a bit too perfectly, stood up and put his hand out to stop me.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked.

"I'm here to see Miss Erica," I told him. "Is she okay?"

"Are you the crazy fan who tried to stop those old ladies from attacking her?" he asked.

"Yes, they were making threats and saying terrible things and I started swinging at them."

"I'm sorry you got arrested, but no one ever suspects old ladies, which is why they can get away with just about anything. They ate out Erica pretty badly, but the doctor says she'll recover."

"How badly?" I asked. "One of them claimed she dislocated a woman's hip doing that to her."

"Not that bad, thankfully. I'm Mike, by the way. And you are?"

"I'm Keith. I'm a big fan of Miss Erica and her tennis playing," I said, not lying about my relationship with his girlfriend, but not giving him the whole truth about it either.

"What's with the giant sweatpants?"

"They're comfy."

"I see. Well, thanks for coming by. I'm not sure if she will see you or not, but she is awake and aware of her surroundings. Shall I ask her if she wants to see you?"

"Could you? I'd just like to say 'hi' and tell her I hope she feels better soon."

"You could have brought some flowers," Mike said. "That would have been a nice gesture. You're a fan and you just want to go into my girlfriend's hospital room and say 'hi'?"

Before I could response, Mike stuffed forty dollars into my hand and said, "Do yourself a favor, weirdo, go down to the flower shop on the first floor and come back with some flowers while I ask if she'll see you."

I found a nice arrangement, thought about paying for it with my own money, but instead used Mike's money because they were very pricey. I got back up to the second floor and Mike told me to "go on in" when I asked what Erica had said.

"Monkey boy," Erica said when I walked into her room. "You brought me flowers. How sweet."

"I almost forgot, you know, to get the flowers, because I had to rush over here to see you."

"Well, it was good of you to try to stop those old ladies from assaulting me, but I wish you had been able to do more. My inner thighs are all bruised up and I have some kind of rash all around and inside my vagina. That one lady had a tongue like really rough sandpaper and the other one's tongue was so long I think she was able to tickle my kidneys."

"Damn, I'm sorry that happened to you."

"Daisy, one of the other players, came into the bathroom while they were eating me out and managed to call security even after they threatened to eat her out as well. They were nasty, awful old ladies."

I walked closer to Erica's bedside, making sure not to accidently touch her or brush up against her. "Does Mike know about us, I mean, about you know, things?"

Erica laughed. "Sweetie, he knows you are a fan who comes to all my matches to support me, and that you tried to stop those old ladies from attacking me but they kicked your wimpy ass. I don't think he's worried about you."

"They didn't kick my ass," I replied. "I was arrested after swinging at them."

"I heard you swung seven or eight times and couldn't land a punch. That's pretty pathetic, and, as far as I'm concerned, quite adorable. I love that you rise up to defend me like that, but I love it even more that you couldn't defend me from, well, from pretty much anything."

"I wish I could have stopped them," I said sadly, looking down at the floor.

"Sweetie, I know you can't protect me, you're the biggest pansy I've ever seen. That isn't why I keep you around. I keep you around to worship me and the ground I walk on."

"Yes, Miss Erica, I do worship you and the ground you walk on."

"I think this might be... present time," she said with a smile as she stuck her left foot out from under the hospital sheets. "It's your old friend from your favorite jack off picture."

I stared at it and didn't say a word until I caught my breath and said, "So beautiful..."

"Do you want to kiss my foot?"

"Yes, Miss Erica. I would love to. I would very much love to."

"First, tell me the truth, why are you wearing those gigantic sweatpants? Was it so you could play with yourself while you watched my match?"

"Yes," I said quietly, "I cut the bottoms out of the pockets so I could do it without anyone knowing."

"Very brave and very creative as well; what a good little monkey boy you are."

"Can I please kiss your foot, Miss Erica? Please?"

"Only if you get down on your knees and show me how you play pocket pool with your pervert pants," she replied.

I knelt down at her bedside, right next to her naked foot, and reached into my right pocket and grabbed my rock hard cock. I started stroking it slowly, trying not to make it look obvious, but Erica could see the way my arm was moving and smiled.




Absolute Devotion Ch. 03



"Go ahead, monkey boy. Nice light kisses, and by that I mean no tongue or anything like that. Just nice, light, sweet little kisses."

I leaned forward and began kissing her foot so lightly it was as if my lips had not made contact with her foot at all. I gently traced my way along the top of her foot to her toes, at which point she let out a tiny giggle. I was trembling and very slowly stroking myself through the pocket of my sweatpants as she allowed me to take my time lightly kissing her beautiful long toes.

My lips moved to her big toe, which I desperately wanted to suck on but was afraid to do so without permission, so I lightly kissed along the top of it and around to the back of it.

I had tried to contain myself, but my moans were becoming audible, not as a result of stroking my hard cock, but because Erica's foot and toes tasted so good.

"Your foot is so beautiful," I moaned as I worked my way around her big toe and down towards her heavenly arch. Before my desperately hungry lips could reach her arch, my back arched and I moaned out loudly and I shot a load of cum into my sweatpants.

After I came, Erica slid her foot back under the sheets and smiled very broadly.

"You know, after I told Mike how you are my biggest fan and how you tried to stand up to those old ladies for me, you know what he asked? He asked if you were gay. At first I was going to say you weren't, but then I realized that as long as he thinks you're gay he won't ever suspect that you are in love with me and will do anything to please me."

"I'm not... gay..."

"I know, sweetie, but as long as he thinks that, you won't have to worry about him kicking your ass. He would, too, you know. If he ever found out about the letters you write to me or how you jack off kissing my feet, he'd go ballistic. So, you need to play along so you don't ruin this little thing we have and disappoint me again. You know what happens when you disappoint me."

"Yes, Miss Erica."

"He said I should invite you over so you can meet his friend Gary, who is apparently gay and looking for love in all the wrong places. You don't have to do anything, just meet him and say you're not interested if he decides he likes you. I'll let you know when. It will be nice, we'll all have dinner together and maybe I'll get dressed up and wear those heels you like, but only if you are a good little monkey boy."



Absolute Devotion Ch. 04



Luckily, Erica's injuries did not turn out to be as serious as originally thought and the rash went away after 48 hours and no infections were detected. She was sent home with some antibiotics just in case there was something alien that had been put inside her during her traumatic experience.

The worst part of the entire episode, Erica told me, was that she was forced to withdraw from the tennis tournament. Since she had been favored to win the tournament, this was a major setback.

I continued to write her heart-rending love letters every day, always slipping the postal clerk a fiver to make sure it got in her post office box that day. After a couple of weeks, the clerk pulled me aside and told me something I'll never forget.

"Look, kid, there is no reason for you to keep slipping me five bucks every time you send a letter to your sweetheart. Just let me know and I'll take care of it. You must be real sweet on this girl, eh, writing her every day like you do?"

"She likes when I write her every day."

"I saw the name on the envelope. Isn't that the girl who got assaulted at the tennis match? She doing okay?"

"Yeah, she's pretty much recovered, but it was a very traumatic experience."

"Look, I don't know if this is out of line or not, but I'm taking a stab in the dark here. You know, I'm getting ready to retire from the post office in a few years and I'm not feeling all that good about the money I've saved for retirement. So, what I've done is start my own business on the side to help increase my income and make things a little easier in my sunset years."

"Okay, and how is that out of line?"

"Well, look, I'm not done 'splaining. What I'm doing is setting up this film studio and we're going to be making amateur porn. Nothing too weird, and no kids or animals or any shit like that, just good, wholesome entertainment. The kind of stuff you can watch at a bachelor party and not have to take a hot shower afterwards. So, I'm thinking, and you tell me this is out of line, but do you think you could talk to your pretty friend and see if she wants to shoot some scenes?"

"No," I said sternly, and then recoiled in horror at my assertiveness.

"Wait, wait, see, there doesn't have to be any actual sex or anything, maybe just some play acting. How about a scene where she is wearing her little tennis outfit and she's out in the woods and she's lost and she is being chased by a bear, but it isn't really a bear, it is me in a bear costume and when she finds out we have a laugh and drink some hot chocolate and she takes her clothes off. How about something like that?"

"I really don't think so. That is way over the line, man."

"What is she into? Do you know? Maybe she likes something we can work with. How about just a short piece where I film her eating an ice cream cone in just her bra and panties? That could work, and it is so suggestive without there being any actual sex or anything."

"No."

"Okay, let me try this in a different way... how about you ask her before you say no? What I'm saying here is that you're not her keeper. Don't piss me off here or I might put your letters in the wrong box by mistake and I'm guessing that would be a problem for you."

"Okay," I sighed. "I will ask her, but if she says no will you back off?"

"Well, you just tell her that when she comes to pick up her mail next time that she should come and talk to Leo the clerk. Tell her I can sweeten the deal."

"Sure, okay, whatever, I'll tell her, but I'm telling you right now she's going to say no."

"Cross that bridge when we get there."

I couldn't believe Leo's audacity and when I walked out of the post office I was very annoyed. I was also starting to get very tired of constantly having an erection, and started to think my meeting with Doctor Love had been a mistake, but whenever I emailed a report to Erica about how many times I'd masturbated that day while thinking about her and seeing her pleased responses, I realized it was a sacrifice I had to make.

Kissing Erica's foot in the hospital had been the most exciting and sexually fulfilling even of my life. I revisited it every day in my head, constantly, and when I masturbated it was all I could think about. It felt so good to have her gorgeous foot right there in front of my face, the smooth skin gliding across my lips, her succulent toes right there in front of me begging to be sucked. The memory itself was overwhelming.

I was nervous about dinner, partly because I was worried about how I would behave with Erica in front of Mike, but also because of the weird date I was being set up on with Gary. It was a hell of a length to go to for a cover story. Letting Mike think I was gay was one thing. That didn't bother me. Having to lead some guy on and let him think I was a prospective partner was an unsettling prospect.

But, I reminded myself, I was doing it for Erica and I would do anything for Erica.

I arrived before Gary. I brought a bottle of wine that I found in a gas station convenience store and a box of graham crackers. Erica thanked me for them while Mike shook his head at me. While Erica brought my gifts into the kitchen, Mike pulled me aside. 

"I thought you might have a little more class than that," he said. "Graham crackers and the cheapest bottle of wine you could find? Are you homeless or something?"

"I didn't have much time to shop," I explained. "I spent most of the day taking care of personal business," I told him, meaning I had been constantly masturbating while thinking about his girlfriend all day, but I wasn't going to tell him that.

"Did you really tell some clerk at the post office that you'd ask Erica if she wanted to be in his homemade porn movies?"

I laughed nervously. "The guy was a weirdo. He insisted I ask her and wouldn't let it go, so I said I would ask but I was sure she would say no."

Erica came back from the kitchen. She was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, but said she hadn't had time to change for dinner. Mike was wearing a suit jacket and tie. He told me he'd just come home from the office, and that he hadn't changed because Erica said she thought they should dress up for dinner.

"I wore a sweater and khakis," I told him.

"Yeah, we can see that."

When Erica went to change, the doorbell rang. Gary had arrived. Mike let him in, talked to him as old friends do, and took the six-pack of loose Budweiser cans Gary had brought and took them to the kitchen.

"You must be Keith," Gary said. "You're slightly less handsome than Erica claimed you were."

"I'm sorry," I said. "She must have a high opinion of me."

"Not really," said Gary snidely. "She's says you're a pussy and if I banged you then you'd probably do anything I said."

"Wow. Really?"

"I wasn't even going to bother to come. The last thing I need in my life is another wimpy boyfriend, but the well has been dry for almost a year now and I need to get my dick sucked at some point before New Year's Eve."

I stood frozen, my jaw falling almost to the floor.

"Ah, Gary, you're here," Erica beamed as she strutted out into the living room in a black dress that came down to just above her knees and the high-heeled shoes she had sent me a picture of. I had trouble looking away but had to before Mike returned or Gary noticed.

"I love your shoes," I told Erica, trying to cover in case anyone had noticed me staring at her feet.

"Thank you, Keith. I just bought them recently. This is my first time wearing them."

"Well, they look great on you, and you look great, and I don't know, it is great to be here," I said, finding myself sweating nervously as I stood in my sweater and khakis trying not to stare at Erica.

"Keith, why don't you give me a hand in the kitchen," Erica said. "You boys go sit down in the living room and talk about whatever you guys talk about."

They went to the living room while I followed Erica into the kitchen. Once I was sure they were out of earshot, I turned to Erica and quietly said, "Miss Erica you look so beautiful tonight."

"I want you to jack off before we bring the hors d'oeuvres out. Do you think you can do that for me?"

"Yes, Miss Erica, of course, anything for you."

"Sit down at the table," she told me and motioned towards the kitchen table. "I want to tell you something."

I sat down and she sat down on the chair beside me.

"The other day at the hospital when you kissed my foot, well that was nice, but the thing is, my other foot is jealous of the attention and was wondering if you might be willing to kiss it as well."

"Of course, Miss Erica," I said, breathing heavily to the point of panting.

"Now here's the thing. This is very dangerous, but the boys always end up talking about work and sports and all that crap so there is very little chance they will come into the kitchen and catch us. Now, I don't know about you, but danger really gets me hot, you know what I mean?"

"I'll do anything to please you, Miss Erica."

"Stand up and take off your pants," she told me. "Take off your shoes, your socks, your shirt, everything you're wearing."

I looked around nervously, hearing Mike and Gary talking in the other room, and froze.

"You know, if you aren't willing to do what it takes to please me, I'm sure I can find someone else who will," Erica said and held out her foot with her shoe dangling from it by her toes.

I was shaking, panting and sweating as I tried to quickly get undressed, looking over towards the hallway that led to the living room and listening to make sure Mike and Gary were still preoccupied with their conversation.

When I was finally completely naked, my four inch cock fully erect, Erica smiled and told me to get on my knees in front of her.

I slowly slid down to the floor and knelt in front of Erica, my eyes going back and forth between her feet and legs and the hallway that led to the living room.

"Look up at me, monkey boy," Erica said. "Look up into my eyes."

I looked up cautiously, and as I was about to look towards the hallway again, Erica snapped at me, "Keep your eyes on me, Keith, fuck what's going on in the other room. Look into my eyes and tell me how much you love me."

"I love you with all my heart," I told Erica as I looked into her eyes and found myself tearing up. "I love you more than anything."

"Now jerk it for me," she said with a smile.

She looked away, checking down the hallway herself, so I broke eye contact and let my attention drift downwards. She was sitting at the table with her legs crossed, her right calf in front of me, so long and smooth with the calf muscle spread out from behind by the knee of her left leg. I was beating my meat hard and fast, trying not to make any noise that would be heard in the other room.

"You have the most beautiful legs in the universe," I told her as sweat rolled down my forehead and I jerked as fast as I possibly could.

Erica only needed to stretch her leg a few inches before the big toe on her right foot touched the tip of my stiff cock. I let out a moan, trying to be as quiet as possible, but my cock had touched Erica's foot. It was the most incredible moment of my life.

I came like a geyser two or three seconds after her toe gently brushed back and forth across the head of my cock. I grabbed the table and held on as I felt like I was having a seizure, my body bucking and my legs flapping around uncontrollably, tensing and relaxing, tensing and relaxing.

"Damn, monkey boy, I thought you would like that, but damn," Erica said, laughing and looking pleased with herself. "Hurry now, go take all your clothes in the bathroom and get yourself cleaned up for dinner."

At dinner, the conversation was very low key until Erica threw a curve ball and asked, "So, Keith, what do you think of Gary?"

I paused to consider my response and said, "Gary's nice."

"What do you think, Gary? Do you think we could make a love connection here?" she asked Gary.

"Do you give good head, Keith?" Gary asked, causing Mike to choke on a forkful of food. "I'm only saying, because I like getting head at least twice a day."

"Who doesn't," Mike laughed once he regained his composure. Then he looked over at Erica and winked, "A man who gets his cock sucked twice a day is a happy man."

The exchange left me feeling extremely uncomfortable. Between Gary asking if I would suck his dick and Mike all but announcing that Erica sucked his very regularly, I was left not knowing what to say or how to react.

"Have you ever had a one night stand?" Erica asked me before taking a sip from her wine glass.

"Sure, I guess, one time or another," I stammered. "I guess I'm looking for something more than that right now," I added while looking at Erica. "I'm looking for someone who I can love with all my heart and give myself to completely."

"That's a load of crap," sneered Gary. "There ain't no such thing as true love, just people saying shit and making themselves believe in shit to justify whatever the fuck they do."

"Aren't you the cynic tonight," Erica told Gary. "Well, I'm a believer, and while I don't know if I can love someone with all my heart and give myself to completely, I know it happens," she said after looking towards me.

"You don't love me with all your heart?" Mike asked her.

"Well, honey, you haven't exactly made your feelings known to me. You can sit here at dinner and brag about how I suck your cock, but I don't think you've ever really told me that you love me."

"Of course I love you," Mike muttered unconvincingly.

"You never say it like you mean it," she muttered back. "Maybe I want something more than just great sex and a guy who looks good in a suit."

"Look, baby, I know you went through some serious shit with the assault at the tennis club, and I know you probably have a lot of shit to work out and you are just venting—"

"Fuck you, Mike," Erica spat. "You know what, I am going to go out and find me a guy who actually loves and respects me. How about that?"

Mike threw up his arms and sighed. "Yeah, whatever princess, go out and find Prince Charming or whatever pipe dream you're smoking on today. Life will go on without you."

Erica pushed her chair back from the table and walked angrily to the kitchen. I could see the tears starting to well up in her eyes and I got up and followed her.

"That was pretty terrible dude," I heard Gary say as I left the room.

"I don't care," Mike said. "I can never do enough for that woman."

I found Erica in the kitchen crying at the table and I walked quietly towards her and kept my distance. I muttered something about "Is there anything I can do?" as I considered the absurdity of the situation. Was I really going to try to comfort Erica after whatever it was her and Mike were saying to each other.

"You could find me another man," she said with a slight laugh.

I just stared blankly, feeling hurt by her remark.

"Keith, come on, you know you can never be my man. I love what we have, but I don't know, it doesn't matter anyway, I have these fights with Mike all the time and we always kiss and make up."

"I love you Erica," I said in the strongest voice I could muster. "I've been in love with you since the day we met. Do you want me to show some balls? I will go out there right now and tell those two that I love you and I want to be with you. If Mike wants to punch me in the face, I don't care. All I want is to be with you, whatever that means is fine with me, as long as we are together in some way."

"You can't do that," Erica said, wiping away her tears. "This will blow over. Maybe you should just go home."

I turned around and marched to the dining room and stood up tall at the head of the table. "Mike, I am in love with your girlfriend. I've been in love with her since the day I met her, but I knew she was with you and she said she was happy, but I don't think she is. I don't think you love her. I think you just like having her around because she's beautiful and apparently great in bed. If you want to punch me in the face, I don't blame you, go right ahead and do your worst."

There was silence until Gary said, "I knew you weren't gay."

"I'm not," I replied. "I just said that so Erica would invite me over."

"Well, this is a shit storm, isn't it," Gary snickered. "I should probably get the fuck out of here."

Mike stood up and threw his silverware on the table. "Come on, Gary, let's go get a beer or six. Let the two lovebirds get to know each other a little better. I'm done with this bullshit."

I stood tall, watching as Gary and Mike walked out the door together. I kept standing where I was until I heard a car start and pull away.

"Well, that was complete crazy," Erica said after slowly walking into the room and looking at me from the other side of the table.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked.

Erica sighed. "I'm honestly shocked, so I don't know the answer to that question right now. I can't believe you actually did that."

"He walked out on you instead of throwing me out," I told her. "Doesn't that tell you something about him?"

"It doesn't tell me anything I didn't already know, but it does confirm it."

"Do you want me to leave?" I asked her.

"You really should," she said. "I don't know what I'm going to do and I need some time to myself to think about it."

"Okay," I said. "You know where to find me if you need me."

"I've cheated on him," Erica blurted out as I got close to the door. "Not just once but multiple times. What we did together was me cheating on him again, getting something I wanted from a man that he couldn't give me."

"I would worship you for all eternity if you let me," I told her. "If other men could fulfill needs you have that I can't satisfy, then I would be fine with that. I just wish you loved me half as much as I love you, or even if you loved me at all."

I walked out the door and drove off into the night.

I drove around in circles around the city for the next two hours trying to clear my head and focus my thoughts. I'd probably lost Erica forever. I was happy being completely submissive to her. It was what I wanted. I knew she didn't see me the way she saw other men, and I was fine with that. No matter how many lovers she'd had, I was sure none of them was as devoted to her as I was.

When I got back to my motel I got out of the car with my head hung low, sensing that my life was going to go back to being empty and depressing.

Then I saw Erica, sitting on the hood of her car and watching me.

"Hey stranger," she said. "Is there anywhere around here a girl can get a good foot massage? I've had a rough night."

I dropped my keys on the ground and had to fumble around in the dark to find them again while stuttering out a response.

"I can, you know, probably, like, you know, help you with that," I said before finally finding my keys and standing back up to find Erica in her tennis shorts and sneakers standing over me.

"You are so adorable sometimes," she said. "This is your favorite outfit, isn't it? Pink shorts and legs that go all the way up?"

"Yes, Miss Erica, it was the outfit you wore when I first fell in love with you."

"Are you going to invite me inside your room, monkey boy?"

"Would you like to come inside, Miss Erica?" I asked with a nervous smile.

"Lead the way."

We got inside and I dropped my keys again, overcome with nervous excitement about Erica coming to see me and being in my place with her gorgeous tanned legs. I knocked several things over as I cleared space on the chair by the window so she could sit down.

"How about if I sit on the bed, is that okay?" she asked.

"You can sit anywhere you like," I said.

"So, tell me, what would my life be like if I was your girlfriend? I think you'd need to get a real apartment for starters."

"I've been working on that," I told her, "but I would work harder for you."




Absolute Devotion Ch. 04



"I like when you work harder for me," she smiled. "You realize that even if I were to be your girlfriend and live with you, things wouldn't change between us. We wouldn't become like a regular couple. I enjoy the relationship we have and don't want it to change, except that you'd have me around in person to worship all the time and I'd expect you to jack off on command for me."

"Yes, Miss Erica. I understand." And I did.

"And I was just kidding about the foot massage," she added. "I have a guy at the tennis club that does that incredibly well and I don't think you could compete. Does that bother you?"

"I'm jealous that he gets to massage your beautiful feet, but I understand."

"Sometimes I go down on him as my little way of thanking him for the great massage. Does that bother you?"

"You are the woman I love and I accept you for everything you are."

"How about the fact that I give great head, but I'll never go down on you? Does that bother you?"

"Never?" I wondered.

"That would completely destroy the nature of our relationship. I'd love to have you watch me go down on another guy, though. Would that bother you?"

"That... excites me..."

"Good, I'm glad that it does. You'll never be allowed to penetrate me in any way, not my mouth, not my vagina, and certainly not my ass. Can you truly accept that?"

"For you I can," I told her.

"We'll have separate bedrooms and you may only enter mine with permission. When we are at home you will obey my every command, but in public you will play the role of devoted boyfriend so that no one will think we are anything other than an ordinary couple. Of course, that may be subject to change depending on where we are and what the circumstances are."

"I understand, Miss Erica."

"My rules always come first. I am in charge and you will submit to me completely unless otherwise agreed. Do you understand?"

"I understand, Miss Erica."

"Why don't you start looking into two bedroom apartments? I'm going to spend the night at a friend's house getting drunk and then hopefully getting fucked. I'll be by tomorrow after work to see if you've made progress."

My first impulse was to ask her to please stay, but I knew my role in the relationship I had practically begged her for and I knew it wasn't my place to do so.

"I'll be here if you need me or for anything you want or if you..."

"You're babbling, my little monkey. It is so cute when you do that," she said and then walked towards the door. 

"Thanks for understanding," she added with a smile.

I walked with her to the door and told her, with my voice wavering, "Have fun."

"Oh, my poor little monkey," she said as she brushed the hair from my eyes. "Would you like a little present before I go?"

I nodded. She pulled off her left sneaker by pulling down on the back of it with the toe of her right sneaker. She kicked it aside and then reached down to pull of her sock.

"Get down on all fours for me."

I did as she said, making sure to position my head right over her bare left foot. I stayed in that position for what felt like thirty full seconds before she pressed down on the floor with the ball of her foot and lifted her heel as high as she could while keeping her toes and the ball of her foot securely on the ground.

"Have your sick little way with my foot," she told me, "but if you dare touch or kiss or anything above my ankles, I won't be coming back ever."

I was scared and tentative. I stared at her foot wanting it so badly but not knowing where or how to start. I leaned down and kissed the top of her foot and kissed all the way down to the outer edge, breathing more heavily with each kiss until I got to her heel, where I lost control.

I started kissing and licking and biting her heel from the side to the back until I fell over and began licking the bottom of her heel so rapidly I thought my tongue was going to fall off. Erica barely moved, occasionally adjusting her stance so that the muscles in her calves flexed and relaxed. I kept kissing her heel, running my tongue up and down the bottom of her foot while my breathing became so fast that I eventually had to pause so I could catch my breath.

Erica sat down and put her sock and sneaker back on. She smiled at me and told me to stay on the floor. She got up and stood over me and I looked up the length of her amazing legs and told her she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

"I don't think I have to tell you what to do after I leave," Erica winked. "Cum real hard for me now, sweetie. I'll see you tomorrow."



Absolute Devotion Ch. 05



A month after the dinner party at Erica and Mike's house, I was living with Erica in a nice two bedroom apartment in one of the classier sections of town. I felt like I was living in a dream, seeing her every day, worshipping her and her body with absolute devotion, and having her introduce me to people as her boyfriend.

I did everything I could for her. I did all the shopping. I kept the apartment clean, doing all the chores necessary to make our home a warm and welcoming place. I took cooking classes so that I could take care of cooking all the meals. I washed her car once a week and cleaned the interior so that it always looked like it just came off the showroom floor.

I knew that she had lovers, and I had reconciled that fact with the knowledge that my love and devotion was more meaningful and powerful than the casual nature of the sex she had with other men. She would tell me about her other men, usually when I was kissing her feet and masturbating, and it would increase my excitement and the intensity of my orgasms. Sometimes I would cry when she told me about a particularly fulfilling tryst she'd had with a man.

At one point, after I'd cum while licking the bottom of her foot, I'd burst into a crying fit of spectacular passion. I couldn't control the avalanche of emotion that overwhelmed me after she told me about how she'd been seeing this one man regularly and that he was the best lover she'd ever had.

I had cried many times before during my relationship with Erica, but this was different. Usually when I cried during our sessions where I masturbated while worshipping her feet it was erotic and increased the intensity of the experience. This time I was overwhelmed with a feeling of shame for not being able to meet all of Erica's needs as well as fearing that she would leave me for this man who was such a great lover.

Erica took my hands in hers and pulled me up off the floor. She had me sit down on the bed beside her and brushed my hair away from my face. She smiled sadly at me and then put her arms around me. It caught me by surprise. She had never done that before, and when she let me go again I looked at her through my tears and tried to smile.

"Sweetie, what's wrong? Are you upset about me seeing Dirk twice a week?"

"Twice a week?"

"Well, for the past couple weeks anyway, yes. He actually wants to make it a more regular thing."

"Does he know about... me?"

"He knows I live with my boyfriend," Erica said. "I told him I have no intention of leaving you, which he's fine about because he's married."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so upset, I know you have needs I can't fulfill."

"Let me make you an offer," Erica said, running her hand up and down my arm in a warm and loving manner. "Say we make love, in the traditional sense, and we try to have the kind of relationship that an ordinary couple have. What do you think would happen?"

"I don't know..."

"I think that I do. I've had a lot of relationships with men, regular boyfriend and girlfriend relationships, and they all ended. There were different reasons every time, but it really came down to either him or I taking each other for granted. I never felt truly loved. I never felt adored. I never felt like my boyfriend would do anything for me and be devoted to me the way you are. It became about sex, about routine, about looking good in public and making people think we were a great couple."

"I'd never be like that..."

"I think you would. I think if you had me that way that you'd stop worshipping me. I think you'd see me as an equal rather than the princess that you adore and dream about. I know you dream and fantasize about me letting you make love to me, and the first time would be incredible, but after that you wouldn't fantasize about me anymore. You would start to lose interest and you would stop being who you are."

"I'll always worship you, Erica. Always."

Erica stood up and pulled her shorts and panties off. She tossed them on a chair and sat down on the edge of the bed. She spread her legs just enough that I could see her beautiful, smooth, hairless pussy. It was wet, glistening, and so alive.

"Do you think this is the answer to everything? Do you think having this would make you content?"

My lip quivered uncontrollably and I just stared, unable to speak.

Erica reached down with her hand and used her thumb and index finger to part the lips of her vagina. As it opened, revealing the soft, pink inside of those lips I closed my eyes and looked away. I was shaking as I tried to speak, but no words would come.

"Do you really want to fuck me, Keith? Do you? Would you give up everything we have together for one night of fucking me?"

"No," I said quietly.

"Get on your knees in front of me, you pathetic loser," Erica ordered as she got up and put her panties and shorts back on.

I got off the bed quickly and immediately dropped to my knees in front of Erica, my eyes looking down at the floor and feeling very ashamed.

Erica stood over me, her bare feet in front of my downward cast eyes. I stopped crying, but still had tears in my eyes.

"Tell me you want me to get laid tonight," she said.

It took me a moment to find the strength to speak, and more than a moment to bring myself to say the words. "I want you to get laid tonight, Miss Erica."

"Kiss my foot," she told me.

I leaned down and kissed the top of her left foot and was about to kiss it again when she told me "that's enough."

"Yes, Miss Erica."

"You've really let me down tonight," she told me with a sigh. "A little bit of jealousy is good, I expect it and I actually like it, but the kind of jealousy you showed tonight is completely unacceptable. I'm going to have to punish you so you learn not to put me through something like this again."

"Yes, Miss Erica."

"For the next week you will not be allowed to see, touch or kiss my feet. I will keep my legs covered so you won't be able to see them. Until I say otherwise you will avert your eyes when you I am in the same room unless I say otherwise."

"Yes, Miss Erica."

"What was the name of that friend of yours who came over for dinner last weekend?"

"Jimmy?"

"Yes, Jimmy, that's him. He was kind of cute and he was flirting with me a little bit."

"Well, you are the most beautiful woman in the world, Miss Erica."

"Give me his phone number."

"Why, Miss Erica?"

"Don't ask me questions, just do as you're told. Give me Jimmy's phone number."

Jimmy was a co-worker who I'd become very good friends with over the years. He was the closest friend I had and I had invited him over for dinner primarily so I could show off my girlfriend to him. I wanted him to see me as more than the shy and awkward wimp that I was. I wanted to impress him and he had been very impressed, but when he saw how Erica ordered me around and how submissive I was to her, he started giving me a hard time about it.

He didn't know the half of it. At dinner Erica simply told me to get another round of drinks, to clear the table, to clean up the kitchen, and things like that. Still, it was obvious, as he said, "who wore the pants" in our relationship.

"Damn though," he said, "if I had a girlfriend as hot as Erica I'd probably do everything she said, too."

When I gave Erica his phone number, she told me to stay on my knees in front of her while she called him. I did as she said, holding back the fear and horror I felt about her calling my best friend and what she wanted from him.

"Hi, is this Jimmy?" She asked when he answered. "This is Erica, Keith's girlfriend. How are you? Good, I'm glad to hear it. I was wondering, would you like to meet me for a drink?"

I looked down at the floor. I was trembling badly, holding back an urge to yell out, "No, please don't."

"No, Keith isn't coming," she told Jimmy. "He says he never goes out on a work night. I just really need to get out and have some fun and I was hoping you'd be interested. Sure, I know where that is. I can be there in a half hour. Is that good for you? Great, I'll see you there."

After she hung up the phone, I looked up very slowly until she snapped at me. "I told you to avert your eyes. Don't look at me, you pathetic wimp."

"I'm sorry, Miss Erica," I said, no longer able to hold back my tears as I looked back down at the floor.

She told me to stay there, kneeling on the floor, while she took a shower and changed her clothes.

When she came back, I tried to avert my eyes but could not avoid seeing how she was dressed. She had on her shortest miniskirt, my favorite pair of high heels, a very low cut blouse that revealed a great deal of cleavage, and her hair and makeup looked amazing.

I wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, but I didn't dare, since I was supposed to be averting my eyes.

"You may look at me, my sick little monkey," she said.

"You look so beautiful, Miss Erica," I told her.

"Do you think your friend Jimmy will be pleased?"

"I can't imagine how any man wouldn't be, Miss Erica."

"Thank you. Now, stop looking at me."

She left without another word. I got up and went into my bedroom to find my cell phone. I was about to call Jimmy and tell him not to meet Erica, but I couldn't. She would be angry with me and I was already in the doghouse. I held the cell phone in my hand until my hand was shaking so badly I couldn't hold onto it anymore.

My Aunt Evelyn had recently died after a long battle with cancer. In her will she had left most of her sizable fortune and estate to other people, but for some reason she had left her wardrobe to me. Two trunks had been delivered with her clothes and assorted items and I had left them in the back closet unopened. I meant to donate them to Goodwill or some such charitable organization, but hadn't gotten around to it. I didn't imagine ever needing them, but suddenly I had an idea.

My aunt was in her 80s when she died and dressed in typical old lady clothes. She had a number of wigs, which she wore because of the hair loss she suffered during chemotherapy. I decided to dress myself up in her clothes, wig, and makeup and disguise myself as an old lady so that I could follow Erica and Jimmy and see what they were really up to.

The disguise was amazing and worked perfectly. I wasn't sure where Erica had gone to meet Jimmy, but I had a few ideas. He had named the place, and she had agreed, so it had to be a place he knew and had been to as well as being a place she would go to. That eliminated the hole in the wall bars that Jimmy and I had sometimes gone to. He wouldn't invite a woman to one of those places and I didn't think she'd go.

The one place that I knew Jimmy went to when he was meeting a woman was Highlights on The Marsh, a somewhat classy restaurant and bar that sometimes had live music, but was not a club in the sense that there wasn't loud music and wall to wall people. Jimmy never met women there. It was too difficult to make conversation and get to know someone.

In my clever disguise, I walked into Highlights and scanned the bar. I had been right. Jimmy and Erica were sitting at the bar, talking and having drinks. They seemed to be having a good time.

"Can I help you with something, ma'am?" asked the hostess.

I cleared my throat and tried to talk in a reasonable facsimile of an old lady's voice. "I don't know, honey, I was supposed to meet a gentleman here but I don't see him. He said he'd be at the bar and I'm running a wee bit late. Did you see a handsome gentleman with white hair and glasses earlier tonight?"

"I don't believe so, ma'am. I take it he would be alone?"

"Well, I would hope so, we met in the personals and I would think it very rude to bring another lady to a date."

"Yes, ma'am, I think it would be," the hostess laughed. "I don't believe he's been in tonight, maybe he's running late as well?"

"Can I just wait at the bar for him? Would that be okay?"

"Of course, go right ahead."

I took a seat at the other end of the bar from where Jimmy and Erica were sitting. My Aunt Evelyn had also left her hearing aids to me with the rest of her wardrobe. I had made some minor modifications to them with my ninth grade level electronics hobbyist kit so that I could use them to hear conversations that would normally be out of the range of my hearing. I put the hearing aids in my ears just before the bartender came over and asked for my order.

"I'm meeting a gentleman here tonight," I told him in my old lady voice. "Do you have any cocktails that would appeal to the palate of an older woman?"

He gave a slight laugh and asked, "What kind of cocktail do you like, ma'am?"

"I had a Tom Collins once. Do you have any of those?"

"I think I can work something out," he said.

My modified hearing aids were picking up Jimmy and Erica's conversation with some clarity, but every now and again there would be feedback that would send an ungodly buzzing sound directly into my ear canal and I would suffer a jolt that made me sit bolt upright and gasp.

"Is your friend running late?" the bartender asked.

"He said he would be here at nine o'clock, but I'm about fifteen minutes late as you can see, so I hope I haven't missed him. Have you seen a white-haired gentleman here at the bar tonight."

"I haven't seen anyone like that tonight, he's probably running late. If it makes you feel better, that young man over there was waiting for almost a half hour before his date arrived," he said while pointing towards Jimmy and Erica.

"Well, it is courteous for the man to arrive first so as not to leave a lady waiting."

"See, now he definitely was a little anxious," the bartender told me. "He arrived early and was very excited about meeting this woman. He kept looking at the door and trying to fix his hair and straighten his shirt. Then he ordered some chicken wings with hot sauce and he gets the hiccups. I told him to drink a glass of water and that took care of that, but then he asked me six or seven times if he had any sauce on his face from the chicken wings. I kept telling him he was fine, that he was just nervous meeting his date, but that didn't stop him from going in the men's room to check himself in the mirror three times."

"He sounds like a bit of a nervous Nellie."

"It isn't that uncommon, really. It was obvious they had met before, but this place is pretty much the place where people meet on blind dates. I've seen some weird stuff in my years here."

"Oh my," I said as I sipped my Tom Collins. "Things certainly have changed since I was young and pretty. I remember chivalry and courtship like it was just yesterday. Young people today just seem to be about sex, sex, and more sex."

The bartender laughed. "I'm sure your friend will be along any minute now. If not, people watching is a very entertaining way to spend some time."

He went to attend to other customers and I looked over at where Jimmy and Erica were sitting. They were talking, laughing, and having a good time. I tried to turn my head so that the modified hearing aid in my right ear was in a direct line between them and me.

"You are a very funny guy," Erica was telling Jimmy. "I haven't had this much fun in a long time."

"Can I tell you something at the risk of offending you or stepping over the line here?" Jimmy asked her.

"Who said there were any lines here?" she said with a grin I could see across the bar.

"Okay, well, here goes. You are one incredibly sexy woman, and when I saw you walk in here with that miniskirt on, I almost had a heart attack."

Erica smiled and traced the line of his face with her fingernail. "You just made my night saying that," she told him and leaned in towards him like someone going in for a kiss. "You know, Keith doesn't need to know about anything that happens tonight, unless, of course, you plan to tell him."

"I can keep a secret," smiled Jimmy.

"Good," she said, taking her finger away from his face and leaning back and away from him. "I know you probably don't want to be disloyal to your friend, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him. Don't you agree?"

"I wouldn't want to tell him anything I knew was going to hurt him."

"And if something happened between us that was personal and intimate, would there be any harm if he never found out about it?"

"I'd certainly never say anything."

Erica leaned forward, putting her arms on the bar and calling to the bartender for another round. "This is what I think, Jimmy. I think we are two people who are very attracted to each other, and I don't think there is anything wrong with that. We have all this sexual energy between us because you want to fuck me and I want to fuck you. Now, we could just go home frustrated and regret that we never fucked because we both care about Keith, or we could have a really hot night and never tell him about it and everyone is happy."

"Wow," Jimmy said as the bartender arrived with the drinks. "I honestly never really thought of it that way, but yeah, that is a really good point."

"You know we sleep in separate bedrooms," Erica said after the bartender walked away.

"Yeah, why is that? I was curious when you guys gave me the tour but I didn't want to pry."

"It isn't important, that is between Keith and me. The reason I bring this up is because I have this really nasty idea."

"Oh? I'm very curious now."

"Well, see, Keith always goes to bed early on work nights. He's in bed by nine and asleep before ten and sleeps so hard he didn't even wake up when the smoke alarm went off last week when I was trying to make gingerbread houses in the oven."

"Okay... I think I know where you're going with this, but go on..."

"I was thinking we could have another round or two and go back to my place. It would be so deliciously naughty and the idea is getting me wet just thinking about it."

"Damn, well, that is... I don't know... I was just about to ask if you wanted to come back to my place, but..."

"I really want you to fuck me all night long," Erica told him. "The thing is, unless you want to come back to my place, the offer is off the table."

"Yeah, I mean, that is really fucking hot, but come on. Fucking my best friend's girl while he's asleep in the next room? Something is going to end up going wrong, he'll wake up, or something will happen, or I don't know, something will get all fucked up. Besides, that's really, really cruel to do to him."

"Why did you want me to come back to your place? To play checkers? You were going to fuck me anyway. The only difference is it will be in my bed and not yours. It isn't his bed or our bed, it is my bed. He won't wake up, and even if he does and something goes wrong, my bedroom window goes right out into the woods behind the apartment and you can run away."

"Shit, this is like when I was in high school fucking a chick while her parents were asleep in the next room," Jimmy said before taking a long drink from his beer. "You're right, the idea is a huge turn on, and it is crazy and fucking dangerous, but if this is what you want to do, I'm in."

I sat in stunned silence through the conversation. I wasn't at all surprised by Erica's side of the conversation, but I didn't know what to make of my best friend's willingness to follow her lead. I figured I wouldn't turn down Erica for anything she wanted, so why should my friend be any different.

When I snapped out of my state of shock I realized I had a problem. I'd expected Erica to go home with Jimmy, but never anticipated the possibility that they would come back to the apartment. 

Erica expected me to be asleep, as she was right about me going to bed early on work nights, although I was actually a relatively light sleeper. I needed to get home ahead of them because my bedroom door was open, I wasn't in my bedroom, and there were two trunks of my Aunt Evelyn's clothes and accessories open and strewn around my bedroom.




Absolute Devotion Ch. 05



"I'm going to close out my tab," I told the bartender. "I don't believe my gentleman friend is going to show up."

"Well, I'm sorry you got stood up," the bartender told me. "The drink is on the house."

"Thank you, young man," I said and considered living him a tip except I didn't know how to calculate the percentages for a tip on a zero cost item.

I looked at Jimmy and Erica and saw they weren't rushing off just yet, so I tried to walk out quietly without attracting too much attention to myself. The hostess told me to have a nice night, and I thanked her before going into a long diatribe about how one is supposed to calculate tip percentages on a zero cost item.

"Usually you just leave what you feel is right in that situation," she told me.

"My moral compass hasn't been working right since I participated in an experiment that increased my libido," I replied.

"Well, I see," she said with a stunned expression. "Goodnight."

As I was driving home, my cell phone rang. The caller ID said it was Erica, so I pulled over to the side of the road and answered it.

"Hello?" I said, trying to sound like I was half-asleep.

"It's me," she said. "I need you to stay in your room tonight and not come out. I need you to act like you are sleeping and like nothing wakes you up. Do you understand?"

"Huh? What time is it?" I said with a simulated yawn.

"Sweetie, did you hear me? I'm coming home with a man and I need you to stay in your room and not come out for any reason. If you do this then I will end your little punishment and let you kiss my feet in the morning."

"What if I have to pee?" I asked.

"Take a jar or something in your room. You are not to come out of your room, make any noise at all in your room, or do anything that will make anyone think you are doing anything but sleeping through the entire night. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss Erica," I said.

"I'm going to be fucking your best friend Jimmy tonight, but you will never, ever let him know you know anything about it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss Erica," I said while crying. "Miss Erica?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Do you have to do this with Jimmy? I know you need, you know, but does it have to be Jimmy?"

"Yes, sweetie, it does. Tonight is going to hurt you so much, and I know you won't really be sleeping, I know you'll be listening the whole time and crying your eyes out. I can't imagine how painful this is going to be for you, but that's why I want to do it. In the morning I will hold you in my arms and you can cry all you want. I get so turned on when you cry."

"I don't understand..."

"Do you know how nothing in the world turns you on more than my feet? How you fantasize about kissing them and licking them? That is how I feel about making you cry. It turns me on more than anything. I get so fucking wet just thinking about doing something that I think will make you cry that I just have to do it."

"Okay..."

"Oh, and Keith?"

"Yes, Miss Erica?"

"I love you."



Absolute Devotion Ch. 06



When Erica and Jimmy got back to the apartment, I was sitting in the dark in my bedroom eating gummy bears and playing with a toy plastic microscope I had gotten at a dollar store for more than a dollar. I heard the front door open and they came in. They were laughing loudly at first and then Erica starting shushing Jimmy.

"You said the smoke alarm didn't wake him up," Jimmy laughed.

"That doesn't mean we should wake up the whole neighborhood," Erica told him. "Keep your voice down."

"Okay, sorry," Jimmy whispered.

"Sit down over there, on the couch," she told him.

"Shouldn't we, um, go to your bedroom?"

"Relax, he won't wake up, I promise. Can I get you a drink?"

"Yeah, definitely," he said.

"You want a beer or something stronger?"

"What do you have?"

"Well, we have vodka, rum, tequila, and peppermint schnapps."

"Peppermint schnapps?"

"Yeah, Keith likes to drink it in a sippy cup with a candy cane in it while wearing a Santa suit."

"You mean like at Christmas parties?"

"Well, other times of the year as well, I imagine. We've only lived together for a short period of time."

"Okay, yeah, well, how about a shot of tequila?"

"Gets your courage up," Erica said. "Tends to make you do things you later regret."

"You know this from experience?"

"Maybe. Here, it is a little more than a shot, but what the hell. Here's to tonight."

I heard two glasses clink together and sat hugging my knees and rocking back and forth with gummy bears stuck to the front of my Aquaman pajamas. I'd stuck them there on purpose because of my tendency towards defiance.

I couldn't hear anything from the other room so I got up from the floor, the gummy bears detaching themselves from my pajama top and dropping onto the carpet, and went to my bedroom door. I pressed my ear against the door but could only hear muffled voices.

I had made a play telephone a week earlier. It was the kind with two tin cans attached with a long length of string. There was a teenage boy who lived in the bedroom of the apartment across from my bedroom window. I had tried, in vain, to convince him to use my tin can telephone with me but he just looked at me like I didn't have my shit together. I still had the tin can telephone system, so I pulled one of the cans free from the string and was about to press it against the door when I caught sight of the glass jar I had brought into my room in case I had to urinate during the night.

I pressed the open bottom end of the glass jar against the door and pressed my ear against the bottom. I could not hear any talking at all, but I listened more intently and I knew why they weren't talking. I could clearly hear kissing noises. They were making out in the living room.

I closed my eyes and listened harder. I knew they were kissing. Jimmy's hands were probably all over Erica's body, sliding up her thigh and her ass and trying to get access to her pussy. The kissing got harder to hear and I closed my eyes and prayed for better hearing.

"Oh my god..." I heard Erica moan out quietly before she stopped moaning words and just quietly and sweetly moaned and gasped. She went on like that for several minutes before saying, "Damn, you have a VERY talented tongue, Mr. Jimmy."

I could hear the sounds of kissing again, fast and furious and with intermittent gasps and grunts. Then I heard something bang against the wall between my bedroom and the living room, followed by a crashing sound.

Both Erica and Jimmy made laughing sound that were more like giggling, and Erica said, "I probably shouldn't have thrown your belt like that, but it needed to come off."

"Damn that feels good," Jimmy gasped after a couple minutes had passed.

"I thought it might," Erica replied a few moments later.

For several long minutes all I could hear was what sounded like deep, wet, and intense kissing. I waited for any hint at what else might be going on.

Then, when I had almost given up, Jimmy started moaning loudly and said, "Damn girl, you can really suck a cock."

His moaning then got louder and he yelled out "FUCK YEAH!" in such a way that I knew he had just achieved orgasm.

I took my glass jar away from the door and slid my body down the door and collapsed in a heap on the carpet. I convinced myself that was the end of it.

"Damn Erica, how did you learn to suck cock like that?" Jimmy asked her in a voice I could hear very clearly.

"Years of practicing and doing it every day," she said nonchalantly.

"Every day, huh? Keith is a lucky man."

"Oh, I've never gone down on Keith. He doesn't like getting head. He says it freaks him out."

"Shit, he's an idiot. So, who do you, well, practice on?"

"Well, since we've moved in here we have a neighbor that has been known to come by and visit me after Keith goes to work, and my boss from time to time, and my ex-boyfriend Mike, because that was all he wanted from me anyway. Shall I go on?"

"No, that's fine, I really don't need to know. So, does Keith know about these other men?"

"Why don't we not talk about him?"

"Okay, yeah, that's kind of bad form under the circumstances, yeah."

"Would you like another drink, Jimmy?"

"Let me go to the little girls' room first," Erica told him. "Feel free to make us a couple drinks while you're waiting."

I was lying on the floor, just listening. I found myself wishing I could be out in the living room with them. I didn't want to be in Jimmy's place. I just wanted to be able to see my Erica in all her glory.

A piece of paper slid under my bedroom door. It startled me, but then I picked it up and tried to see what it was in the darkness of my room. I held it up close to my face and managed to make out the words, "You better be jacking off in there or I'll make you go to a motel room next time."

The note was in Erica's handwriting and she had managed to write it and slip it under my door on her way to the bathroom. I could hear Jimmy clanking bottles and glasses together in the kitchen, so I knew he was preoccupied, so I scrambled to find a piece of paper to write a response.

I couldn't find a pen anywhere in the dark, and I was afraid to turn on a light, so I pulled down my pajama pants, and opened my door just a crack after I heard the toilet flush and the bathroom door open.

Erica glared at me when she saw me peeking out through the crack in the door. Then I opened it just a little bit more so she could see I was standing there with my pants off and my rock hard erection in my pants. She was still wearing her low-cut top, but was no longer wearing her bra. She still had her miniskirt on but was no longer wearing the high heels.

She smiled and pulled the door closed.

"Where were we?" she asked Jimmy after she returned to the living room.

"I made a couple of drinks, they're kind of half-assed margaritas but I hope you like."

There was a pause, likely as she tasted the margarita, and she said, "Not half-bad."

I could hear what sounded like them kissing again, accompanied by quiet moans and sighs. I started trying to stroke my cock as I listened, but when I tried to get into it, instead of visualizing what they were doing and being turned on by it, I got choked up with emotion and began crying.

There were all kinds of sounds coming from the living room, the kissing sounds, the moans and sighs, the sound of furniture being accidently bumped into, and at one point I heard a glass fall over and break.

"Oh yes, Jimmy, that's what I've been waiting for all night, put it inside me," Erica moaned out loudly. "Come on, baby, fuck me. Fuck me! FUCK... ME..."

"Fuck yeah," Jimmy groaned. "You like that, bitch? You like when I fuck you?"

"I love it, Jimmy. I love it. Fuck me harder. HARDER!"

They were making no effort to be quiet, and I sat on the floor in the dark listening, my cock in my hand and tears running down my face.

"You're a nasty girl, Erica! Tell me what you want, nasty girl! Tell me what you want."

"Put it in my ass, Jimmy! Fuck my ass! Fuck my ASS!" Erica was all but screaming the words and for a while all I heard was grunts and groans.

Then Erica yelled out, "That's it, baby! Oh god, YES! Fuck that ass! FUCK. THAT. ASS!"

"Spread those legs wider, bitch! Spread them wider! I'm gonna fuck you like the whore you are!"

I was shaking and crying, unable to stop the emotion from completely overwhelming me. I sat on my floor, my knees up in front of my chest, holding them tightly and rocking back and forth. Then, for some reason, I reached up and turned my doorknob. The door opened inwards and looked in the direction of the bathroom, which was at the other end of the hall from the living room. Once I opened the door I could hear them like they were right in front of me.

I let go of my knees and got down on the floor like a snake or turtle. I tried to look out the door, around the corner of the door frame, so that I could see what was happening. I got very low to the floor, so that I was practically eating the carpet, and very cautiously slid my head out into the hallway just enough so that my eyes could see into the living room.

Jimmy had his back to me. He was on top of Erica and completely naked, drenched in sweat. I could see Erica's gorgeous legs, spread out wide on either side of Jimmy as he thrust back and forth into her. Neither one could see me in the position they were in, so I kept my head pressed against the floor and turned towards them so I could watch.

They were grunting and groaning and Jimmy kept calling Erica names, but the one that sent a shiver down my spine was when he said, "You like getting that ass fucked, you cheating whore? DO YOU LIKE IT?"

"YES!" she moaned. "YES!"

She sounded like she was about to cum, which I'd never witnessed in all my time of knowing her. I could see her legs shaking and her moans were louder and more intense.

He kept slamming hard into her ass and she soon came. Her orgasm was highlighted by her whole body seizing up and a long, soulful cry almost like that of a wounded animal. She all but fell completely off the couch, but he grabbed her hand and steadied her while she caught her breath.

I slithered back into my room and quietly closed the door, making sure to turn the doorknob as I did so in order to gradually, and quietly, let it latch closed.

"Damn," said Jimmy, breathing very heavily. "That was incredible."

"I have got to go to the little girls' room again. All that booze and great sex really does a number on me."

"Take your time," Jimmy said. "I need a few minutes to catch my breath."

I heard Erica walk by, go into the bathroom and close the door. I leaned my back up against the closed bathroom door and sighed. I hoped he would now leave. There was only so much I could take.

Then I heard Jimmy talking. It sounded like he was on his cell phone making a call. Who could he be calling at what was now three o'clock in the morning?

"Hey dude, it's me. I just wanted to tell you this thing with Keith's chick, well, it turned into a great night. I'm not shitting you when I say that she's already sucked my dick, let me fuck her pussy and her ass, and I am pretty sure she wants more. I'll talk to you later, man. She's in the bathroom and she's going to be out any second now. Later."

The bathroom door opened and Erica walked past my room again.

"Glad you made it back," Jimmy told her.

"I needed to splash some cold water on my face and try to pull myself together. That was a GREAT fuck."

"I'd go as far as to say it was one of the best of all times."

Erica laughed. "Well, it has been a long time for me. I really needed it."

"Don't tell me Keith doesn't fuck you either. Does that freak him out, too?"

"I love Keith, I really do, but sometimes a girl has to fulfill certain needs, well, elsewhere."

"I see. Well, I'm glad to be your elsewhere anytime you need an elsewhere."

"I'll drink to that," Erica laughed. "And don't be surprised if I start calling you on a regular basis. You're a great fuck, Jimmy."

Jimmy's cell phone began ringing. I knew it was his because of the obnoxious tune he'd downloaded to use as his ring tone.

"Are you going to answer that?" Erica asked him.

"It's my friend Ray. He's probably out drunk somewhere and got blown off by some chick and wants to whine to me about it. That can wait."

"Answer it," Erica told him. "See if he wants to come over."

"Really?"

"Yeah, why not. I'll put some clothes on and we'll have coffee or something."

Jimmy answered the call. "Ray? Yeah, I'm still here with Erica. What's up? Really? She said to ask you if you want to come over. Yeah? Sounds good. She's making some coffee. I guess we're going to chill. Okay. See you in a few."

There was relative silence in the living room and I heard Erica walk past and go into her bedroom. She didn't close the door, but I heard drawers opening and closing, and then she walked past my door again on her way back.

"Damn, that's not what I expected when you said you were going to put some clothes on. Damn."

"What, you don't like my see-thru pink teddy?"

"Well, I mean, Ray said he is coming over and he's about five minutes away..."

"You don't think he'll like it?"

"Um... well, I'm sure that he would," Jimmy said nervously then cleared his throat. "I mean, you're okay with being dressed like that when my friend Ray shows up?"

"You did say I was a nasty, cheating whore, didn't you?"

"Well, ehem, that was, you know, heat of passion stuff. Dirty talk."

"So, you call your buddy when I'm in the bathroom to tell him you hooked up with me, not just that you hooked up with a woman, but that you hooked up with Keith's girlfriend and fucked the shit out of her. I thought Keith was your friend."

"He is, but..."

"What? That takes a back seat to bragging to another friend about how you banged his girlfriend? This was supposed to be our little secret. Yeah, I understand dirty talk and I like dirty talk, but it is one thing to call me a slut and a whore when you're fucking me. It is another thing to call your buddy, just minutes after we finish fucking, and brag to him about it and to bring Keith's name into it. You might be a great fuck, but you are a pathetic excuse for a human being."

"Why did you tell me to invite Ray over?" Jimmy asked, his voice cracking.

"So he could drive you the fuck home. You're too drunk to drive and you sure as hell aren't going to crash here tonight. Go and wait for him outside. I'm done with your sorry ass."

I heard the front door open, Jimmy muttered something that sounded like a lame apology or excuse, and Erica slammed the door. Then she sighed and I heard her walk across the living room floor and throw herself onto the couch.

"Keith?" she called out after about ten minutes had passed. "Are you still awake?"

I was still lying against the door, so I tried to collect myself, stand up, and open my bedroom door. I looked down the hall to the living room and saw her, her body sprawled out across the couch, and just looked at her for several minutes without saying a word.

"Come here, my sweet monkey boy," she said in a quiet, reassuring voice.

I walked slowly towards her, having pulled my pajama pants back up and having wiped away most of my tears. She sat up partially, slumping back against the corner of the couch, still wearing just the pink see-thru teddy, and looking very tired.

"Are you okay, my love?" I asked.

"I needed to see you, to know that you were okay," she said. "I know that I hurt you very much tonight, and I know I get off on it, but I'm starting to have a lot of trouble dealing with that. I made a terrible mistake tonight. I thought your friend Jimmy was a good friend of yours who wouldn't go bragging to other people about how he hooked up with your girlfriend. I thought this would turn out differently."

"Miss Erica, if Jimmy had been a true friend, he never would have agreed to have sex with you in the first place, no matter how beautiful you are or how hot your body is."

"Yeah, you're right, monkey boy. You are right."

"I can get through the hurt and the pain and all that if I know it makes you happy, if I know what you're doing makes you happy, or even if hurting me gives you pleasure. I can't do it if... if it just leaves you feeling bad, like right now."

"Yeah, I definitely feel like shit," she said.

"Miss Erica, I think you are chasing after a high that you'll never reach," I told her. "You want to take this to a place where you'll have the ultimate orgasm or, well, I don't know what exactly. But you keep trying to push the envelope and maybe there is nowhere else to push it."

"Am I really taking advice on life choices from a guy in Aquaman pajamas?"

Erica sat up, which was less distracting, since her see-thru pink teddy left little to the imagination. I'd never ever seen her breasts before. They were probably somewhere between a 'B' and 'C' cup, very full and pert but didn't hang or sag at all. Like the rest of her, they were amazing.

"I wouldn't dare give you advice on life choices," I told her as I sat on the end of the couch. "Look at the one I've made? I've given you my heart and my soul and I've decided to trust you with it no matter what."

"Do you regret that?"

"I didn't have much of a choice," I told her. "I fell in love the first time we met, not because you look great in shorts, but because when you came into my life everything changed. You were like a work of art, a story so beautiful it can never be told, or something like that. I love you, Erica, and anything I can do that brings you even the smallest measure of happiness makes me happy in return."

"Even when I get off on making you cry?"

"It used to, yes. I could tell it made you happy, so I embraced it. Tonight it didn't make you happy. Tonight you started to hate making me cry, you started getting mad at yourself for hurting me, and you regretted it."

"You are being a lot more assertive than usual, Keith, and I mean a LOT more. I'm a little shocked."

"I've grown a lot in the time we've been together. Loving you has made me stronger, it has made me want to be a better man, a more confident man, and whatever kind of man I need to become to be who you need. When I stood up to Mike, I really started to change because I wasn't afraid any longer. I had a reason to fight. That reason is you."

"What do you REALLY want, Keith?"

"I want to be with you and I want you to be happy, and that's pretty much it."

"I'm sitting here with your best friend's cum dripping out of me and you can honestly tell me you want to be with me and you want me to be happy? Do you want me to stop fucking other men? Do you want me to be devoted to you the way you are to me? You have to want something more."

"I wish that just being with me made you happy, but when this whole thing started with us I told myself that I'd never be enough for you. I made a decision back then, after that first time you came over and wanted me to get myself off in the bathroom, that if there was anything I could do, no matter how demeaning, I would do it just to please you."

"I can't help it, Keith, I get pleasure from torturing you. I hate myself for it afterwards, but I never used to be able to orgasm during sex. I enjoyed it, sure, but I never got off. Now, whenever I'm getting fucked by another man I imagine you watching us, with tears in your eyes, in unbearable pain, and I just explode. The guy thinks it is because of him, but it isn't."

"I don't want to judge you or jump to any conclusions here, but have you ever considered that maybe you have issues?"

Erica laughed. "That's an understatement."

"Can I ask you something?"

"We're talking openly, you can ask me anything."

"Do you really think I'm not good enough for you?"

"Damn, sweetie that is a really loaded question. The short answer is yes. The long answer is that when I met you, after seeing how you drooled over me, I was extremely turned on by the idea of tormenting you by coming over to Jean's regularly in my tennis shorts or a miniskirt or something else like that. The idea got me so hot because there you would be, with Jean, wishing you could be with me instead."




Absolute Devotion Ch. 06



"But then Jean threw me out..."

"I knew you didn't really want to be with her, and I knew you wanted to be with me, but then I actually started feeling jealous. I knew she treated you like shit and the only reason you stayed with her was because you didn't think you could do better. That made me really sad. I wanted you for myself, but I wanted to have my cake and eat it too. You gave me something I didn't realize I needed."

"Someone who would do anything you asked?"

"Well, not exactly. I've gone out dressed the way I was when I met Jimmy at the bar lots of times. I'd go out to clubs and bars and wherever dressed like that and I'd see the way men looked at me. It was pure lust, these men all wanted to fuck me, and some of them would be direct about it, but others would just look at me with this look that said they wanted me but they knew they could never have me."

"Like I did," I said quietly.

"There are plenty of men out there who have wanted me and plenty of men who were absolutely certain I'd laugh at them if they approached me. They knew I was way out of their league, but that didn't stop them from staring, from lusting after me. One time, years ago, I was out at a club and there was this little goofy guy who kept looking at me and trying to flirt with me in this cute, awkward kind of way. When I smiled back at him, he got all nervous and knocked his beer over, and it was so adorable. I could have made his night by taking him home, but he was there with a friend, this obnoxious guy who hit on everyone and thought he was all that. I went home with the obnoxious guy and fucked him."

"Why?"

"You know why. I wanted to hurt that poor little goofy guy. I wanted him to see me respond to his friend's cheap lines and his cocky attitude. I wanted him to have to listen when his friend told him how he fucked me and how good it was. Most of all, though, the real reason was that I hated myself. I hated myself because I thought I was too good for this little goofy guy and I wanted to degrade myself to punish myself for feeling that way. After his friend fucked me and got up and left, I sat alone in the dark and thought about how that goofy guy would now think of me not as a sexy, beautiful woman he wanted to get to know, but as a slut who would fuck any good looking guy with a cheesy line and the confidence to approach me."

"And I'm just like that goofy guy?"

"No, you're more than that, but it is all part of the same psychosis. There have been other guys like that. I always see guys out together at a bar or a club looking to meet women. There is always this one guy who is the dominant one and the other who is submissive. The submissive one thinks the dominant one is going to help him meet women, but what he's really doing is using the submissive guy to make himself look better. He might help his friend talk to a woman, but it will only be a woman that he had ruled out as someone he wants for himself. The submissive wants to meet a nice girl, get to know her, and he hopes he'll find someone to love. The dominant wants to score. He wants to take someone home and fuck her. When a woman doesn't respond to his overtures, he pushes his submissive friend in her direction, giving him the impression he's helping him hook up."

"So, I mean, I guess I understand that, and I know I'm the submissive one, but how did I give you something you didn't realize you needed."

"Well, I always wanted that submissive guy, but I was loath to admit it. Imagine me giving my phone number out to guys like that, guys who are too scared to even approach me and say 'hi.' I wouldn't have men thinking I was too good for them anymore. They'd stop lusting after me and thinking there was no way they'd ever have me. I'd become... ordinary."

"I make you ordinary?"

"No, you make me feel extraordinary. When I was a kid, I was the little fat girl. Believe it or not, I used to be known as 'pound cake.' I was pale, pasty, and big and round. My family was dirt poor, but my father worked two jobs so I could go to school in a better part of town. He did everything to make my life better, but he was always so tired and broken down at the end of the day. One day, my mother just up and left him. She didn't leave a note or any explanation, but he knew it was because she couldn't put up with being poor and having this tired and used up man for a husband any longer. He was a good man. He worked hard to provide for his family and to try to give me a better life, but that wasn't good enough for her."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be sorry, I don't want your pity. You keep staring at my tits. Do you like them?"

"Gosh, yes, they're perfect, Miss Erica."

"I probably should have covered up after I fucked your best friend, but I figured you could use an extra special present after what I put you through."

"I'm very glad you did. Looking at you in that see-thru teddy is helping me stay awake while trying to listen to your boring story."

"Good, because I want you to stay awake for this."

"Yes, Miss Erica."

"They used to call me 'pound cake' and 'ham fat' when I was in school, but then after I went to high school my body started to change. I got taller, my fat just kind of melted away, and the boys started paying attention to me in a different way. Instead of making fun of me, they wanted to take me out for milkshakes or to dances and all that crap. I ended up fucking half my senior class, putting notches in my bedpost for every boy I fucked. And every time I did, I said, 'take that, ham fat.'"

"Okay, so you didn't become hot until high school and you hated your old self because you were fat and pasty?"

"I was a nice fat girl when I was little, well I wasn't so little, but you know what I mean. I tried to be so nice to everyone, to help people, and to be a good little girl, but everyone still picked on me. One time I helped an old lady cross the street and when we got to the other side she says to me, 'you shouldn't eat so many sweets then you wouldn't be such a fatty.' It was always like that. I couldn't do one nice thing for someone without them making a cruel remark about how fat and pasty I was. 'Hey Erica, want to go to the beach with us? Oh, I forgot, they don't make bathing suits in your size.' That was the kind of shit I put up with all the time."

"Well, my love, you aren't that little girl any longer."

"Yes, but I can't be nice to people. Every time I try I get this feeling like I used to, that they'll say, 'thanks, but stop eating so much cake' or... 'Thanks for giving me directions to the Howard Johnson's but stop being so hot.' I don't know; I've got issues."

"You're worried about people picking on you because you're hot?"

"I used to be fat and pasty. I was the most picked on girl in school. Now I'm the hottest woman in the city. How am I supposed to deal with that?"

"I don't know, maybe be happy about it?"

"Would you have fallen in love with me if I was 300 pounds and pasty?"

"Maybe, I don't know, I was with Jean for two years and she's never going to win a beauty pageant."

"Yeah, but you left her for me."

"Well, technically she threw me out..."

"She threw you out because she saw that you wanted me so bad that you had to go to the bathroom and jack off while imagining we were together. And this was after you couldn't get it up for her for weeks. You left her in spirit long before you physically left her."

"She was always mean to me. I deserved better."

"I'm meaner to you than she ever was, but you stay with me, and you worship me, because I'm hot. Don't try to deny that. If I showed up to meet you guys for ice cream that first time, and I was 300 pounds and pasty, would you have 'fallen in love' with me the way you claim to have?"

"I really don't know. Would you still have been wearing those pink tennis shorts? I once saw this very overweight woman in these really short cutoffs and I masturbated thinking about her for the next two weeks."

"You are a sick little monkey. I hope you realize that."

"I do."



Absolute Devotion Ch. 07



The next morning at work I was not functioning correctly. I had managed to sleep for about an hour before my alarm went off. I considered calling out sick, but I was worried that someone would think I was faking it and I didn't want to deal with accusatory stares from the bosses or my co-workers.

I worked as a paper shredder at a loan company. What I did all day was put documents in a shredder and then double check to make sure that they had, in fact, been shredded. It wasn't a very exciting job, but it paid exceptionally well so I was happy to have it.

Jimmy was a very important man at work. He was one of the people who actually talked on the phone to people about loans. It was a job I knew I couldn't do, because I was afraid to talk to people on the phone, so I respected him for being able to do it.

"Hi Jimmy," I said when he brought me some documents that needed to be shredded.

"You look like hell," he told me. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I think I might have a stomach bug. Thanks for agreeing to have a drink with Erica. She really needed to get out and I like to make sure I get at least eight hours of sleep every night."

"Oh, yeah, sure," he said. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah, I slept like a baby. I like to sleep."

"Look, can you do me a big favor?"

"Sure."

"I think I offended Erica last night, you know, when we were having that drink. Can you tell her I'm really sorry?"

"Okay. I'll tell her."

"You're not going to ask me what I did to offend her?"

"That's between you and her. It's none of my business."

"Well, I figured, since she's your girlfriend and everything you might be curious."

"I'll tell her you're really sorry. Maybe you should come over for dinner sometime. You could apologize in person. You're my best friend and I'd hate for the two of you to not get along."

"Well, I'm not sure she'd want me over for dinner, but if you want me to and she's cool with it, then sure."

"Just remember though, if it is a work night, I am in bed by nine and asleep by ten."

"Yeah, I'll remember," Jimmy chuckled.

Even though Jimmy and I were best friends, his friend Ray, who worked in collections, didn't like me at all. He called me names like "nebbish" and "wussy." He once tripped me in the employee cafeteria when I was walking with my milk and then made me apologize for getting milk on his shoes.

Just before my lunch break Ray brought me some documents that needed to be shredded. I put them on the stack I was getting ready to shred, but he picked them up off the stack and pushed them in my face. I just looked at him without taking the documents. I was taking a break to drink a juice box when he stopped by.

"I need these shredded immediately," he said, sounding angry and annoyed.

"I'll make it my first order of business after I finish my juice box," I told him.

"Look, doofus, those documents need to be shredded immediately and I need to see you actually shred them so that I can confirm they were shredded."

"Are you saying you can't wait until I finish my juice box? There isn't all that much juice in here. It is a very small amount of juice and I will be finished drinking it very soon. I'd probably already be finished if you hadn't interrupted me."

"What kind of grown man drinks a juice box? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I like the way it tastes and the fun packaging."

"No wonder your girlfriend fucks other guys," he snapped. "Put down your fucking juice box and shred my goddamned documents."

I ignored the first comment as I drank the last of the juice box, making sure I made a loud slurping sound to indicate I had hit the bottom of the juice box and had finished the juice. I was enjoying my newfound assertiveness and defiance. No one was ever again going to make me shred documents before I finished my juice box.

I took the documents from him and very slowly put each page through the shredder individually. He glared at me, seething with anger, unable to handle my newfound confidence.

"You realize your girlfriend fucked your buddy Jimmy last night, don't you?" he said in such a way that I knew he was now trying to do anything to upset me and cause me to regret having stood up to him.

"I'll be done with your documents in just a few minutes, Ray," I replied, refusing to acknowledge what he had said. "To make very certain these important documents are correctly destroyed I must put each page through the shredder individually."

"You are a fucking nutcase."

"We used to shred documents in small stacks, but by that method there is no way to be certain that each document has been properly shredded. It may take longer by this method, that is to say shredding one page at a time, but it is far more effective and you can rest easier knowing that your documents have been properly shredded," I told him as I continued to feed each page individually into the shredder.

"How is this a job, anyway?" Ray demanded to know.

"It is a very important job," I told him. "We deal with a great deal of sensitive information regarding loans and so forth."

"Yeah, no shit, but why the fuck can't people just shred their own documents when they need to? Why do we have a dipshit like you doing it for us? I don't get it."

"Ask yourself this, why do we have an asshole like you doing collections for us? Why can't people just pay their loans by the terms originally agreed to when the loan was made?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"Okay, all done," I said as I finished feeding the last page of Ray's documents into the shredder. "Have a nice day."

When I got home that night I told Erica about what Jimmy had said and how I wanted to have him over for dinner. She looked at me curiously and asked why I still wanted to be friends with Jimmy after what had happened the previous night.

"Do you want me to stop being friends with him because he called his friend Ray to tell him that he was having sex with you?" I asked.

"He lied to me. He made a promise that he wasn't going to let you find out that we fucked and then he called his buddy to tell him all about it."

"Okay, well, look at it this way. You also told him you weren't going to let me find out about it. You actually told me about it ahead of time and asked me to stay up all night so I could hear the two of you fucking. You both made a promise to each other and you both broke that promise."

"Seriously?"

"You used my friend and lied to him about why you wanted to fuck him. You told him it would be a secret between just the two of you and that I would never find out, when all along you had every intention of me not only finding out, but witnessing it. All he did was call one guy and tell him about his good fortune. Yeah, it wasn't really cool, but under the circumstances you can't really crucify him for it."

"Jimmy betrayed me, and he betrayed you when he agreed to fuck me, and you want to have him over for dinner?"

"He's my best friend."

"You don't think there's anything wrong with your best friend fucking your girlfriend behind your back?"

"I think you went out with every intention of fucking him. You dressed real sexy, told him what you wanted, and how was he supposed to resist? You're the most beautiful, sexiest woman on the planet. How is any man supposed to resist you when you throw yourself at him?"

"I would have been pissed if he turned me down," Erica admitted.

"Call him," I told her. "Tell him you accept his apology and invite him over for dinner. Do it for me."

"You're sure this is what you want?" she asked.

"Yes, I do."

Erica got her cell phone and called Jimmy. I could hear it ring three times before he answered.

"Hi, Jimmy? This is Erica. Hi, how are you doing? Great, look, Keith told me you asked him to apologize to me for what happened last night... no, no, the sex was great, you know what I mean... yeah, I think I overreacted just a little. We'd both really like it if you came over for dinner sometime... well, you know, Keith goes to bed early whenever it is a work night... oh, really? Hold on, let me go in the other room and ask Keith if that's okay with him..."

Erica put her hand over the phone and asked me, "He says he was on his way to get pizza with his buddy Ray and they were wondering if we wanted them to pick up an extra pie and come over here with it."

"I haven't had pizza in a long time," I told her. "It has been ages. That sounds great!"

Erica stopped covering the phone with her hand and told Jimmy, "Yeah, he says that's cool with him... what do I want on it? I really like sausage... yes, I know you know that... do I like extra sausage? Most definitely, make it double sausage... what does Keith want? He eats whatever I tell him to... okay, we'll see you in a while, bye."

Erica was dressed in her work clothes and told me she needed to take a shower. I busied myself straightening up the living room so it would look nice when Jimmy and Ray arrived.

Erica emerged from the bathroom wearing only a towel. She came down the hallway and smiled at me. "Thanks," she said. "I feel better after working things out with Jimmy."

"Good, I'm glad," I told her before she went into her bedroom to get dressed.

I decided I would change my clothes as well. I went into my bedroom and found a nice pair of slacks and a white dress shirt. I had a bow tie I was aching to wear but hadn't found the right occasion. This probably wasn't the right occasion either, but since I probably was never going to find the right occasion, this one would have to do.

I went back out to the living room. Erica was still getting dressed, so I set up plates and napkins on the coffee table for the pizza. I figured since it was pizza we could eat in the living room instead of the dining room or kitchen. It would be a bit wild and crazy, but I figured it would help everyone relax and have fun together.

Erica emerged from her bedroom wearing very short cut-offs, daisy dukes she called them, but I was unable to grasp the reference as I had grown up without a television. She was also wearing a white t-shirt, which would have been very nondescript except that she wasn't wearing a bra and the t-shirt was sheer enough that her nipples were clearly visible. She was also wearing flip flops, showing off her beautiful feet and her now brilliant red toenail polish.

I had gotten her an ankle bracelet as a present. It was a very cheap one that I'd gotten at the dollar store, but when she saw how much I wanted to see her wear it she rushed out to a jewelry store and bought herself a more appropriate one. She was wearing it now and I loved the way it looked on her, accenting her ankles and the dividing line between the parts of her I was allowed to have and the parts of her that I wasn't.

"I just threw something on," Erica told me. "I wasn't going to get dressed up for pizza. I hope you don't mind."

"You look absolutely gorgeous," I told her.

"You'd think that if I were wearing a burlap bag and galoshes."

"Yes. Yes, I would, but I very much prefer this look to that one."

The doorbell rang and Erica kissed me on the cheek, causing me to blush. She went to the door and opened it.

"Hey, pizza delivery, what do you know," she laughed. "Come on in."

Jimmy and Ray walked in with three pizzas and a couple of 2-liter bottles of Coke. There was the usual banter with jokey remarks and bullshit like "Did you find the place okay?" It was the sort of scene that played out millions of times across the planet every day. Friends come by, everyone acts like it is a big deal, they talk about how they survived the drive to the house, or the airplane fight, and how there was traffic at one point or another. It is the kind of crap that doesn't bear repeating.

"Erica, this is my friend Ray," Jimmy said as Ray reached out and gently shook her hand.

"Great to meet you, Ray," Erica said. "Let's get these pizzas inside. Keith set up plates and everything in the living room. I hope that is cool with you guys."

"Yeah, that's great. It isn't like we're having Peking duck or anything. It's just pizza."

Jimmy and Ray put the boxes down on the coffee table. I had considered making placards and assigning seats, but I wanted to keep it informal so I just spread out each of four plates, with accompanying napkins and hoped for the best.

"Sweetie, you forgot the glasses for the soda," Erica said to me. "And be a good boy and put some ice in them, will you?"

Her remark, especially the "good boy" part, and how quickly I jumped to do as she asked, made Ray chuckle in a way that was clearly meant to be laughing at me rather than with me. Given our history and the way he treated me at work, I had expected such behavior from him and kept my cool. It was better not to let him upset me. It would ruin the ambience of the pizza dinner.

When I got back from the kitchen with four glasses on a tray, each filled with ice, Ray had sat down in the recliner Erica had recently bought and Jimmy was sitting next to her on the couch, running his hand up and down her beautiful thigh.

Doctor Love's procedure, whatever it consisted of, had me constantly hard, but seeing the way Jimmy just put his hands on my girl's leg and helped himself to it, not caring that I was there, and probably showing off for Ray, got my cock so hard I felt like I was going to burst through my pants.

I put the glasses down on the table, placing one in front of Erica and each of our guests. Then I opened one of the two-liter bottles of soda and began pouring it into each glass. There was a lot of fizz, and Ray's glass seemed to fill with nothing but fizz as I poured the soda, so I stepped back and stared at it with an inquisitive expression.

"You need to tilt the fucking glass when you pour soda in it," Ray barked at me. "Here, give me that shit."

I handed Ray the two-liter bottle and let him fill the glasses, pleased that I had tricked him into doing a chore and knowing he had no idea how I had just manipulated him.

"I like your bowtie," Jimmy said after I took a slice of pizza and sat down on the easy chair at the other end of the couch from where my nemesis Ray was sitting.

"Thanks, I never get a chance to wear it, so I figured I would roll it out tonight."

"You look like a professor of medieval literature or something," Jimmy told me.

"Gee, thanks," I told him.

"Which one is the double sausage," Erica asked after seeing I had taken a slice of the extra cheese.

"Heh, heh," muttered Ray before finishing pouring Erica's soda and putting it in front of her. "The one on the bottom, I think."

Jimmy's hand had slid up Erica's thigh and was under her extremely short cut-offs. I could see him reach under her panties with his fingers.

He was acting completely casual, telling a story about a pizza place near his grandmother's house that made really terrible pizza. His grandmother apparently knew he liked pizza and it was the only pizza place near her, so whenever he visited she would take him there to get pizza and he would have to choke back his displeasure in order to avoid letting his grandmother know how disgusting the pizza was.

As he went on with the inane story about his grandmother and the nasty pizza place, I could see his fingers moving up and down under Erica's panties. She was smiling and acting like she was very amused by the story, but I knew she was smiling because she was enjoying what Jimmy was doing with his fingers.

The extra cheese slid off my slice of pizza as I lifted it towards my mouth, sliding right down onto the front of my shirt and making a really big mess.

"Oh damn," I said as I looked down at the cheese and sauce on my shirt.

"You need to fold the fucking slice before you try to eat it, dumbass," Ray said. "This is New York style pizza, not little baby slices."

I could hear Erica making little sounds as I tried to lift what was a solid mass of cheese with sauce that was sliding down my shirt. I pretended to be fixated on getting the cheese off me in one piece, but I could not help seeing, out of the corner of my eye, Erica's head tilted back on the couch as Jimmy continued to move his fingers under her shorts and panties.

Erica began moaning so quietly that if I had really been paying complete attention to the cheese and sauce on my white dress shirt I would never have heard it.

"Oooooooh... mmmmm..." she moaned in barely a whisper with her head tilted back and her back just slightly arched forward.

"You better go change that shirt before you get that shit everywhere," Ray snapped at me as his attention went back and forth between my little mishap and what was going on over on the couch.

I pulled the solid mass of cheese off me and managed to land it successful on a plate. Then I stood up and looked at the sauce all over my shirt and told Ray, "I think you're right."

"Put some Spray 'n Wash on that shit," he told me. "If you don't do something right away, that shit will stain like a motherfucker."

"I think we have Shout or something like that," I said, not intending to give any kind of product endorsement. "I heard in the commercial that you can use that on a stain to 'shout it out,' although I'm not sure what that means."

"Yeah, you can use that," Ray told me. "I've used that shit before on a coffee stain. It got it right out. I figured that shirt was a goner. The trick is to spray it with that shit and get it in the wash right away."

"Yeah, I'm going to do that right now, thanks," I told him.

"Good luck with that, I always hate ruining a good shirt," Jimmy said as he continued fingering my girlfriend.

"Thanks," I told Jimmy just as Erica let out a very audible moan. Her voice was so delicate and sweet, especially when she was feeling pleasure.

Our apartment's little laundry room was at the end of the hall next to the bathroom. I opened the door and looked for the spray bottle of Shout I had bought on one of my trips to do the weekly grocery shopping. I managed to find it and pulled off my stained shirt and got to work on spraying half the bottle of Shout on my mishap.

Then I realized I was shirtless. While I may not have ever been fat like Erica had been as a child, I was definitely a very pasty adult. I needed to find something to put on to cover my upper body, as I didn't want Jimmy or Ray, especially Ray, to see how I completely lacked anything resembling muscles anywhere on my body.

I could hear Erica's moans getting louder and more intense in the other room. I smiled, glad she was having a good time, and continued shouting out my stain while looking for a clean shirt to wear in the laundry room. All I saw was Erica's very short pink terrycloth bathrobe hanging up at the far end of the room and decided that would be enough to cover my pale and scrawny torso.

I put my shirt in the washer and set the temperature to "Hot." Then I put on Erica's little bathrobe to cover my upper body and slinked quietly down the hallway. Erica's moans sounded muffled now, but they were still coming very regularly.

When I got down the hall far enough to be able to see what was going on in the living room, I could see the scene had quickly escalated. Erica's daisy dukes and panties were off and Ray was sitting on the couch with Erica sandwiched between him and Jimmy. 

Jimmy was continuing to massage Erica between her legs with his fingers. They were kissing very passionately. Ray had his hand on Erica's thigh and had skillfully managed to open her legs so Jimmy could have better access to her.

Erica broke away from kissing Jimmy and tilted her head back so she could kiss Ray on the lips.

"Why don't you go get Keith and bring him back to the party?" she asked him. "He's probably too scared to come back on his own."

"You want him to join in?" Ray asked her, looking irritated.

"No, baby, I want to force him to watch."




Absolute Devotion Ch. 07



"What do you see in that guy, anyway?" Ray asked her after getting up off the couch.

"That's between him and me. Now go bring him back here. I don't care if you have to drag him back here by his hair and tie him to that chair, but I want him to watch this."

Ray saw me standing in the hallway, standing and watching. He laughed and started walking towards me, so I turned and tried to run, which was a foolish decision because there was no way to escape without opening a window in one of the bedroom and jumping out of it and running away.

There was no time to do that. The windows were very hard to open and I could barely move them, even after eating two bowls of Wheaties.

"Don't hurt me," I told Ray after he backed me into the laundry room.

"What the fuck are you wearing now? A pink bathrobe?"

"I was on my way back to my room to change my shirt when I heard a sound like Erica crying and I went to see if she was okay and I never made it back to my room..."

"Fucking pansy-ass weirdo," sighed Ray, shaking his head and then pulling the pink bathrobe off me and leaving my pathetic upper body bare for everyone to see.

"Damn, no wonder you always wore a jacket to the company pool parties," Ray said after seeing what he could now see.

"Just leave me alone."

"Just following orders," he said, sounding very irritated. Ray grabbed me by my hair and, with a big clump of it in his fist, he dragged me back to the living room and threw me onto my easy chair. "Are you going to fucking stay there or do I need to tie you to that chair?"

"Tie him to the chair," I heard Erica's voice say from behind Ray. "If you don't we'll end up having to chase after him all night and he'll try playing hide and seek and it will ruin the whole night."

"My sister got arrested for doing something like that when she was babysitting. She spent like nine months in juvenile hall," Jimmy told them.

"What do you have to tie him with?" Ray asked her after glaring menacingly at Jimmy.

Erica got up from the couch, wearing nothing but her t-shirt, and walked down the hall towards her bedroom.

As I sat on my easy chair trembling, Ray smiled, looked over at Jimmy and said, "Damn, that is a real nice fucking ass. It looks tight."

"Oh, it is," laughed Jimmy. "I fucked the shit out of it last night."

I sat on the chair, shirtless and scared, and said nothing as they high-fived each other and went on about what a "sweet piece of ass" Erica was. When she came back, she had two leather belts and a roll of twine.

She handed them to Ray and said, "Get on with it before I change my mind about this."

Erica looked at me with a very sad expression on her face. I didn't struggle at all as Ray used the leather belts to secure my ankles to the front legs of the chair and then pulled my weak little arms behind me and around the back of the chair, where he wrapped twine around both of my wrists. My arms couldn't be brought together behind the wide back of the chair, so Ray used a long length of twine between them, tied to each wrist and then down to the back legs of the chair.

I couldn't move much at all, but even the slightest movement was uncomfortable and I was afraid my shoulders would get dislocated if I tried to fight against my bindings.

Erica had also brought back one of her socks, the one she had worn the previous day during a couple of practice matches at the tennis club. She balled it up and shoved it into my mouth, forcing it in as far as she could before I gagged.

"Sit still and shut up," she told me before turning the easy chair, with me in it, just enough so that it looked directly at the center of the couch.

Jimmy had somehow acquired possession of my bowtie, which he proceeded to tie around my neck so that I was now shirtless but wearing a bowtie.

"That is so adorable," Erica said, using the code word I knew meant she was happy with me and because of me. If I hadn't had one of her socks shoved deep in my mouth I probably would have smiled.

She went back to the couch and sat down in the absolute center. You could have used any measurement tool available to verify this, but I could tell just by looking at her and her almost completely naked body, that she was sitting exactly in the center of the couch.

"Where were we?" she asked Jimmy and Ray as they sat back down on either side of her, ruining the perfect symmetry of Erica's body centered on the couch.

"Why don't we start this way," Ray said as he took hold of the bottom of her sheer white t-shirt and pulled it up and over her head. He tossed it over in my direction and it landed on my lap.

Erica's arms, which had been lifted above her head when Ray pulled her shirt off, came down around Jimmy and Ray's necks. Looking directly into my eyes, she guided them towards her breasts, where they needed no further encouragement to start kissing, licking, and biting her breasts and nipples.

She mouthed the words "thank you" to me as she kept staring into my eyes while the two men licked and sucked her nipples and she moaned and writhed on the couch.

"You two are getting me SO fucking hot," she moaned.

"You like that, slut?" Ray asked after he took the tip of her nipple between his teeth and slowly pulled his head back, stretching it as far as it could go before it popped out of his mouth and snapped back. "You like it?"

"Fucking great tits," Jimmy groaned, intending the comment for his buddy.

I was so hard, but I didn't want to be. There was nothing I could do about it, I couldn't get myself off if I wanted to because I was tied to the chair, but I also didn't want to be enjoying this as much as I was.

Ray started to take his pants off, but when Jimmy saw what he was doing he pulled away from Erica and said, "Whoa, whoa, man, hold on a second. I thought we were going to like take her in the bedroom one at a time."

"Don't worry man, I ain't gonna touch you with my dick, if that's what you're afraid of," Ray said angrily. "Ain't you ever double-teamed a bitch before?"

"Honestly? No, man, I haven't," Jimmy told him.

"Boys, you are totally killing the mood," Erica told them as she slumped back against the couch and let her arms fall away from her lovers' necks and down along her sides.

"Fucking Jimmy," sighed Ray as he watched Jimmy get up and walk to the bathroom shaking his head.

"Let's take a break," Erica told him. "You want a beer or a drink? Something stronger than soda?"

"I can't," Ray told her. "I'm a recovering alcoholic and I've got four years in. I used to be an asshole before I cleaned my shit up. I was married for ten years, but I used to beat on my wife when I was drunk and she ended up throwing me out and serving me with fucking divorce papers."

"I'm sorry," Erica told him sincerely.

"Nah, that shit was the best thing that ever happened to me. It woke me the fuck up. I stopped drinking, stopped beating on women, and I dedicated my life to learning how to love women the proper way."

If I didn't have a mouth full of sock I would have called bullshit on Ray's story, but I did have a mouth full of sock so I had to settle for calling it in my mind.

"So, loving women the proper way? You mean like double-teaming a woman with a buddy while her boyfriend is tied to a chair?"

"There are many ways to love a woman proper," Ray replied.

"I see," she said, looking at me with an expression that told me she agreed with my bullshit call. "What the hell happened to Jimmy? Is he crying in my bathroom?"

"Nah, I'm sure he's just taking a leak."

"No, no, that sounds like crying," Erica told him. "Listen."

I listened as well, and she was right, there was definitely a sound of crying coming from the bathroom. It was audible even through the closed door and between toilet flushes, which Jimmy seemed to be doing every ten seconds for some unknown reason.

"Go check on him," Erica told Ray. "Don't be too hard on him."

"Yeah, whatever, this is like total fucking buzz kill," Ray said and stormed off to the bathroom and started banging on the door. "Jimmy? What the fuck? Are you crying in there, motherfucker?"

"This is ridiculous," Erica told me with a sigh. "I am all worked up and ready to go and your two idiot friends can't get their shit together. Just so you know, monkey boy, if someone gets me this wet and then lets me get all cold and dried out, well that person ends up on the bottom of the fucking river. Shit like that is not cool."

I just nodded, since it was all I could do.

Ray and Jimmy were talking back and forth with the closed bathroom door between them. It was turning into a long, drawn out conversation about sexuality and perception. Erica stood up, in all her naked glory, and pulled her sock out of my mouth.

"You want to do me a favor here?" she asked.

"Anything for you, my love."

"Throw them the fuck out. Get rid of them, and then you are going to do something for me. I have got to get off and you are going to help," she said as she untied me.



Absolute Devotion Ch. 08



It was a moment of truth. I took a deep breath and walked purposefully down the hallway to the bathroom. Shirtless and focused, I came up on Ray, who was still talking through the door to Jimmy. All the evidence available told me Jimmy was still crying and babbling. He was apparently convinced he was gay. This had somehow been brought on by his belief that he had gotten very turned on when Ray was about to take his pants off.

"You need to leave," I told Ray.

"I'm not going anywhere," Ray told me as he turned to face me. "I haven't fucked your girlfriend yet."

"And you're not going to," I told him calmly. "Get the fuck out of my apartment. I'll deal with Jimmy. He's my friend and I know how to talk to him."

"No," spat Ray. "Now fuck off so I can talk to Jimmy."

I pushed Ray up against the wall. He pushed me back hard enough to send me sprawling into the laundry room. Luckily, I landed on a pile of sheets I hadn't yet gotten around to washing, and was able to hop back up on my feet with relative ease.

"You shouldn't have done that," I said, gritting my teeth.

I pulled my right arm back, almost dislocating my shoulder in the process, let out a bloodcurdling yell, and punched Ray in the face as hard as I could.

"Fuck, dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?" he yelled as he fell back against the wall, blood pouring out of his nose.

"I asked you nicely to get out of my apartment. The party is over and you are no longer wanted here."

"I brought pizza," he said.

"Yeah, and no one actually ate any of it. Take your stupid cheese slides off the slice too easily pizza and GET OUT!"

Muttering obscenities, Ray stood up and started walking back to the living room. He looked at Erica, still naked on the couch. She stretched out her arm and pointed towards the door while glaring at him.

"This shit is fucked up," he said. "I'm done with you weird ass fucking people."

"Good," I said with my strongest tone of voice. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

"My hero," Erica said with a smile as she looked at me.

"One down, one to go," I said after Ray walked out and slammed the door hard behind him.

I walked back to the bathroom door and knocked on it.

"Who is it?" replied Jimmy's voice.

"It's Keith. Are you okay in there?"

"I think I'm gay, man. I can't deal with that shit."

"Well, you need to go try to deal with it somewhere else. I think you're just freaking out and if you go home and go to sleep you will wake up tomorrow morning and realize you just had some kind of panic attack because you're homophobic. Now, open the door before I kick it down and have to send you the bill for the time and materials it will take to repair it."

Jimmy was silent for a minute or two. I waited patiently, hoping he would do the right thing, and slowly the doorknob began to turn. The door popped open and Jimmy gradually pulled it open.

"You don't think I'm gay?" Jimmy asked.

"First of all, it isn't that big of a deal if you are. So what if you're gay. Second of all, I know I'm your best friend, but I really need you to leave so Erica and I can deal with some shit of our own."

"You're being like weirdly assertive, man. Are you on drugs?"

"No, I'm not on drugs. Now, please collect your shit and leave. I'll call you tomorrow."

"I don't want to be gay," Jimmy cried. "I'm not attracted to men."

"Are you even aware of what being gay means?" I sighed. "Just go home, please."

Jimmy nodded quietly and walked out to the living room. He collected his belongings and slowly walked out to the door. He opened it, looked out, and then turned around.

"Um, I came with Ray and he's gone."

"Well, he couldn't have gotten far. Call him on your cell phone or get a cab or something," I told him as I pushed him out the door, closed it behind him, then locked it and set the deadbolt.

"Wow," Erica said. Her eyes had lit up and she was smiling at me in a way she'd never smiled at me before. "You can do things when you're properly motived, can't you?"

"I didn't want you to be unhappy," I told her as I looked down at the floor. "They were making you unhappy, so they had to leave."

"Is your hand okay?" she asked as she got up, still completely naked, and cautiously took my right hand in her hands. "It is swelling up big time, and two of your fingers look all twisted. I think you broke your hand."

I looked down at it, felt woozy, and passed out.

When I came to in the emergency room, a man who didn't appear to be an employee of the hospital was hovering over me, leaning over my hospital bed, his face no more than three feet away from mine.

"Hello! I'm glad you're awake! You broke two fingers in your hand and your wrist and we're going to have to take you in for surgery!"

"Get out of the way, Linus," someone else's voice said. A man in a lab coat with a stethoscope around his neck appeared. Behind him, two men in scrubs were grabbing the arms of the man who had been hovering over me and forcefully leading him out of the room.

"Are you the doctor?" I asked.

"Yes, I am. Sorry about Linus, he gets out of the psych ward a little too often for my tastes. Now, he was right, you did break two fingers and your wrist. We'll have you patched up in no time."

After they brought me into another room and set my broken bones and gave me copious amounts of prescription painkillers, they put me in a wheelchair and wheeled me out to the waiting area where Erica was flirting with a male nurse. She was dressed relatively conservatively, with sweatpants and a sweatshirt and sneakers, but she exchanged phone numbers with the male nurse regardless.

"Hey!" she said when she saw me. "You lived!"

I held up the cast on my right hand and shrugged. "They put me back together."

"My hero," she said as she stood up and kissed me on the forehead, making me blush. "How about we celebrate on the way home? Maybe stop for ice cream... or something else?"

"Yay!"

We got into Erica's car and started back towards the apartment.

"So, not too much pain?"

"They gave me a big bottle of painkillers," I told her. "Were you flirting with that nurse?"

"Freddy? Is that any of your business, monkey boy?"

I started stuttering my response. "I... didn't mean... um... I didn't..."

She reached over and put her hand on my knee and gently patted it. "It's okay, sweetie, it's good to know you care. I actually was talking to him about a group I used to belong to. I met Freddy there a couple of years ago. He's still part of the group and was trying to convince me to come back."

"What kind of group? A rock group? Are you like Stevie Nicks or something?"

She laughed. "No, not that kind of group; this was a sex addicts anonymous group. I was in it for about a month at the urging of my then boyfriend Gil. He thought I was a nymphomaniac for some reason and, well, as you can see, Gil and I are no longer together."

"Maybe it would... you know... help?"

"Help with what?"

"Maybe you are... you know... a sex addict."

"Excuse me? The sick little monkey who jacks off thinking about my feet ten times a day thinks I'm a sex addict? Are you serious?"

"I didn't mean... well, I just meant, maybe it wouldn't hurt to..."

Erica pulled the car over and stopped by the side of the road. It wasn't a very busy street. An occasional car drove by but it was late and there was very little traffic. She told me to get out of the car.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say..."

"Shut up and get out of the car," she said sternly.

I swallowed hard and got out of the car, trying not to bang my cast in the process. I was stuttering and shaking, not knowing what was going on and afraid she was going to leave me by the side of the road and I'd never see her again.

She got out of the car as well and stood by the driver's side door after closing it. I closed the passenger side door and looked over at her with trepidation in my eyes.

"Come around this side," she said.

I walked around the front of the car, paused as a car went by, and slowly walked towards her. She was standing there glaring at me, and then put on a pair of dark sunglasses, pulled up the hood of her sweatshirt and pointed down at the ground by her feet. 

Her right sneaker was off and her foot was bare. She had her heel off the ground and her toes firmly pressed against the concrete. The street lights gave a dim, almost movie theatre quality to the scene, and in that lighting her high arch looked like the divine gateway to heaven.

I needed no further encouragement. I got down on my knees, put the heel of my left hand on the ground for support, and tried my best not to lose balance on account of the cast on my right hand.

"Start kissing," she told me with a sigh.

My trembling lips found the side of her heel. As I kissed a trail from one side of her heel around the back and to the other side, I could see and taste every line, every crease. Her foot glistened under the streetlights, and when I found her arch I moaned. The flesh inside her beautiful high arch was so soft, so much softer than any other part of her foot, and I ravaged it with my lips and tongue, hoping she would appreciate my efforts. An occasional car drove by, and sometimes they slowed down as they passed, but I tried not to pay them any mind.

My erection was rubbing against the inside of my pants, making me wonder what had happened to the underwear I had been wearing earlier. The friction from the head of my stiff cock rubbing rhythmically against the fabric of my pants was making me moan almost as much as the overwhelming sensations that shook my body any time I made love to Erica's feet with my mouth.

My orgasm ran up on me quickly, and once I knew there was nothing I could do to stop it, that it was going to erupt, I began feverously licking the bottom of Erica's foot. I began as low as I could get before my face hit the concrete of the roadway, along her arch, over her heel, around her heel again, and then down along the outer edge, over the top of her foot and then back down along her arch from a new direction.

I moaned very loudly and my body shook. With my right hand in a cast I had to try to grab onto Erica's leg for support. I moaned, I whined, I panted and when I caught my breath I found my hand sliding down her leg, trying to grab onto the sweatpants she was wearing, but I slid haplessly all the way back down to her foot.

She slipped her right foot back into the sneaker and then pulled of her left sneaker and stood up on her toes like she was wearing six inch heels.

"Show this foot the same kind of love you showed the other one," she said.

I started over again with her left foot the same way I had with the right. Kissing my way around her heel from one side to the other, tracing the lines and the creases in her skin behind her heel, trying to show my love for every beautiful detail before making my way down to her arch and lapping feverously at it, my body shuddering and my erection again brushing back and forth uncontrollably against the fabric of my pants.

"I love your feet so much, Miss Erica," I breathed out between long licks of her soft and smooth arch. I then moved across the bottom of her foot before losing my balance and falling on my side. She lifted her foot up from the ground and over my face. I turned as it hovered in the air above me, her long and succulent toes right over my hungry lips.

I started to lick each of her toes in slow, deliberate succession. My breathing was once again deep and fast. I tried to ignore the sound of my own panting, my very audible moans, as I moved towards her big toe. I admired, as I always did, her beautiful toenails, always manicured so perfectly. They were a light pink color now, and as her big toe slid into my mouth I ran my tongue around it, trying to pull her toe deeper into my mouth.

I sucked back and forth on her toe, my eyes open wide as I looked up and admired the full length of her foot, from the base of her toes all the way up to her ankles. They were pronounced, like tiny handles for the most beautiful foot in all creation, but neither swollen nor bony, just somewhere between that made them a work of art in and of themselves.

I came again, trembling and crying, knowing that my time with her feet was over, at least for the night. I closed my eyes and dreamed of the night I would have this opportunity again to make love to her beautiful feet.

She slid her foot back into her sneaker and then crouched down to offer me her hand. She helped me to get up on my feet and then opened the driver's side door.

"That was my way of thanking you for standing up for me tonight," she told me as I staggered and stumbled over to the other side of the car. "Now, if you are interested in joining the sex addict recovery group, I'll give you Freddy's number."

"I'm very happy, Miss Erica," I told her as I opened the passenger side door. "I wouldn't change a thing."

"Good. I had a feeling you'd say that."

We drove back to the apartment. It was almost three o'clock in the morning and I was extremely tired. I'd already gone one night with barely any sleep and I was about to have another night with little rest.

"Goodnight, my love," she said with a smile before walking into her bedroom and closing the door.

I put on clean pajamas and jumped into bed. I was happy to get four hours sleep before I needed to get up and prepare for work. After a quick shower and a bowl of Lucky Charms, which truly are magically delicious, I got into my car and went to work.

Because it was difficult for me to shred documents with two broken fingers and a fractured wrist, not to mention the bulky cast I had to wear, the company hired a temp to assist me in my work.

Cat was young, in her early twenties, and when I met her I was unable to understand, for the first time, what people meant by "bright eyed and bushy tailed." She was that. She came to my little room with the paper shredder full of excitement and energy. She had big brown eyes like a rabbit, hopped around excitedly, and thanked me for trusting her to do mundane tasks like cleaning the top of the paper shredder with a commercial grade cleaning product.

She would have been a model employee, if perhaps a bit too hyperactive, except for the truly strange thing about her. She was wearing pants, casual type women's business pants, and they had some kind of fluffy white bunny tail attached to the back of them.

From what I could tell, this bunny tail wasn't part of her anatomy. It had been glued, or sewn onto her pants for some purpose I could not ascertain. It was hypnotic, and although I made every effort not to stare, it was at times very hard not to.

Just before lunch she very casually said, "You want to know about my tail, don't you?"

I had to be careful with my answer, because the wrong combination of words used in a response to her question could lead me down the road to an affair. The tail was intriguing and I couldn't help wanting to know more about it.

"It is not something I have seen before," I told her. "There isn't anything wrong with that, and I am fully aware that curiosity has killed many cats, but I would like to know more if you are willing to share."

"Well, I have a really nice ass, which I'm sure you've realized, and I like to give people an excuse to stare at it. And I like that I'm never really sure if men are looking at my ass or my bunny tail. It is like a little riddle every time."

"I don't think that qualifies as a 'riddle,' and I am sure they are usually looking at your tail. Your ass really isn't that nice."

"Wow. Seriously?"

"Maybe it would be nicer if you didn't have that bushy white bunny tail, because that distracts people from noticing anything else about your ass. It is hard for me to say, but I shouldn't be looking anyway. I have a girlfriend."

"Do you ever cheat on her?"

"Never."

"You know, just something she never finds out about and stays a nasty little secret forever?"

"No. That kind of thing leads to pizza parties and people questioning their sexual orientation. Secrets never stay secret. The mayonnaise always leaks out of the sandwich."

"I never knew that," Cat said, looking bewildered.

"Know what?"

"I never knew... about anything you said there. Cheating leads to pizza parties and questioning your sexual orientation? Wow, dude."

"They don't lead to me questioning my sexual orientation. They lead to other people questioning their sexual orientation," I said in order to clarify.

"So, you've never questioned your sexual orientation?"

"Someone tried to fix me up with a man once at a dinner party. It wasn't much of a dinner party, just an excuse to introduce me to this single gay man who this guy and his girlfriend wanted me to meet. I ended up stealing the guy's girlfriend, the one who owned the house the dinner party was at, and the guy went out for drinks with his gay friend."

"Wow... um, that is, um, interesting..."

"So, I'm not gay, otherwise I would have left the dinner party with the gay man and not the host's girlfriend. Although, to be honest, the gay guy was kind of a jerk, so even if I was gay I don't think I would have been interested in him."

"So, what happened when you stole this guy's girlfriend away? How did that turn out?"

"We live together now and we're very happy."

"So, you were getting set up on a date with a man by this couple. You went over to their house for dinner and instead of hitting it off with the guy, you hooked up with the guy's wife?"

"They weren't married. They weren't even engaged. He didn't appreciate her. He didn't love her."

"You don't seem like the type of guy who would swoop in and steal a woman away like that."

"I'm full of surprises," I told her. "I'm sort of like this paper shredder. You put a piece of paper into it, with all kinds of sensitive information on it, the machine shreds it and keeps the little strips inside of it until it is emptied."

"I don't understand how you're like that at all."

"Erica and I connected on a different level than most people. We fulfill needs the other has in ways that aren't at all easy to come by. We push each other, we challenge each other, and we become more together than we ever were apart."

"How is that anything like a paper shredder?"

"Why do you sew a bunny tail onto the back of your pants?"

"To draw attention to my ass."

"That's absurd."

"I don't care what you say, I have a great ass. I mean, look how round and full and perfect it is. The thing is, men weren't looking at my ass. They were looking at other women's asses, but not mine. So I had to do something to get them to look at my ass."

"That's like me saying, 'Gosh, women never look at my face so I'm going to splash acid all over my face and burn it and that way women will start looking at my face.' They are looking at your ass not because they think it is cute and they want to hold onto it while fucking you. They are looking at it because you have a fucking bunny tail glued to it. That is two totally different things."

"Don't you have something that really floats your boat that you'd do just about anything to do or have or experience?"

"Well... yes, you could say that."

"I like when men check out my ass. It does something to me. I get a boost of confidence and excitement and it helps me get through the day. So what if they are just looking at the bunny tail? I forget I'm wearing it and then a guy looks at my ass and smiles and I get all giddy and start walking on air. What's wrong with that?"

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jimmy, walking past my shredder room with his head hung low. He looked very sad, so I told Cat to hold on for a moment and rushed out into the hallway and called out to Jimmy.

"Could you come into my shredder room for a minute?" I asked him.




Absolute Devotion Ch. 08



He looked up and said, "You're not going to punch me, are you?" He seemed to actually be worried about the prospect. He wasn't making a joke.

"Just come in here for a minute," I told him.

When he came into the room, looking very jittery as well as depressed, I introduced him to Cat.

"This is my new assistant, Cat. She's helping me with the shredding until my hand heals."

"Hi, I'm Jimmy. I just found out I'm probably gay."

"What's wrong with that?" Cat asked him. "Are you worried about telling your family or what your friends will think? It is hard to come out, or so I've heard, but once you do you'll feel a lot better."

"No, I'm not worried about that. I'm worried about it because I'm not sexually attracted to men."

"Wait a minute," Cat said, looking very confused. "You just found out that you are 'probably' gay and you're upset about this because you're not sexually attracted to men?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"You do realize that being gay means that you're sexually attracted to men, right?"

"Yeah, so you see my conundrum."

"Why do you think you're gay?"

"Well, let me put it this way, I was in this situation last night. I'm not naming names or anything, but me and this other guy were double-teaming this chick while her boyfriend was tied to a chair watching. Anyway, to make a long story short, my buddy, the one I was getting the chick with, not the one tied to the chair, starts taking off his pants. He's getting ready to, you know, give her his dick, and as he's starting to take his pants off, I felt really excited. So, yeah, that's what happened."

Cat sat in stunned silence, looking back and forth between Jimmy and me, until she finally formulated a response. "So," she said, clearing her throat. "Your buddy starts to take off his pants to do whatever with this girl, and you got excited, and you think this means you're gay?"

"Yeah, I mean it was one thing to get excited when we took her shorts off, but when he started taking off his jeans, you know, that isn't right."

"Have you ever felt attracted to your friend before? You know, like you were looking at him and thought he was good looking and maybe you wanted to be more than friends with him?"

"No, no way, not ever!" Jimmy snapped back defensively. "I'm not into guys like that."

"Dude, you are not gay, stop being a fucking idiot," Cat told him before turning around and waving her bunny tail in the air. "What do you think of my ass? Do you think it's cute?"

"What's with the tail?"

"Don't worry about that right now. Just tell me if you think I have a cute ass."

"Shit yeah, but lose the bunny tail. That's just... weird."

Cat smiled. "So, tell me, it was the two of you who were having the threesome with this girl, right?"

"Jimmy doesn't kiss and tell," I said quickly before Jimmy could respond.

"Yeah, we don't need to go there," Jimmy said, seeing my discomfort.

"I have an idea," Cat said. "Why don't the three of us go out for drinks after work and see where that leads? I have a feeling we might have the answer to each other's problems."

"I don't have any problems," I told her.

"You want to help your buddy out, right?" Cat asked me.

"Sure," I said, not knowing where she was going with all this.

"You want me to stop obsessing about my insecurities surrounding men not liking my ass, right?"

"I'm really not sure I care about that at all," I told her. "I just met you and don't understand what's wrong with you."

"I've never had a threesome with two guys before," Cat reported. "Jimmy freaked out because he got excited when you took your pants off the last time you guys shared a woman. I think you need to do it again so Jimmy can overcome his feeling that there was something wrong with how he reacted. I'm willing to give you that opportunity, as long as the two of you spend a good part of the evening looking at my ass and telling me how much you like it."

"I don't cheat on my girlfriend," I told her, "and I'm not the guy Jimmy is talking about."

Jimmy grabbed my arm and pulled me aside. He whispered into my ear, "Dude, this is a golden opportunity. This chick wants to fuck both of us..."

I pushed Jimmy away and turned my attention back to Cat. "Look, why don't you and Jimmy go out on a date after work. I don't think you need me there. He can give your ass all the attention it needs and you can show him he isn't gay."

"I want to have a threesome!" Cat exclaimed, stomping her little feet repeatedly as she made the statement.

I rubbed my chin and tried to think of a solution. Ray was certainly into that kind of thing, but he was a jerk, and he hadn't been seen all day. He hadn't come to work or even called in, according to reports, and I imagined he was so upset about me punching him in the face that he had lost all interest in life.

"What about a threesome with a woman and a man?" I asked Cat after my brainstorming session with myself ended.

"It's easy to find two guys who want to do a chick together," Cat told me. "Where are you going to find a woman who wants to do that?"



Absolute Devotion Ch. 09



I was sitting alone in a bathroom stall trying to figure out how to approach Erica with the idea of her having a threesome with Jimmy and Cat when two of my co-workers came into the men's room.

They were talking loudly and excitedly about some big news that had just broken in the office.

"Yeah, that's why the cops are here talking to people," one of them was saying. "They found Ray at the bottom of the river with a big rock tied around his ankle."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me. I thought he was done being involved with the mob years ago."

"They must have sucked him back into the life, man. I'm telling you, that motherfucker got himself killed. He must have pissed off someone real bad."

I thought for a moment about Ray and how much he picked on me, which made me glad he was gone, but I'd never wished him dead. I did enjoy the way he groped Erica and how he liked biting her nipples, but that didn't make up for the years of torment he'd put me through.

Then I had a sudden realization. I had punched Ray in the face, thrown him out of my house, and he ended up dead at the bottom of the river. I was going to become a suspect.

The idea was very exciting. I'd never been a suspect in a murder investigation before. I'd always been the quiet wallflower no one paid much attention to, but now I was going to be in the spotlight. My one run-in with the law after trying to punch two old ladies at Erica's tennis match had been exciting, but I wasn't being charged with anything.

I was about to be taken seriously for the first time by the public at large. I was going to be a suspect in a murder investigation.

I finished my men's room masturbation session, pulled myself together, and walked back out into the office. I saw the police talking with several people, all of whom stated they had last seen Ray at the end of the workday the previous day.

Then I saw Jimmy. He was in one of the manager's offices, which had big glass windows around it so people could see inside. I figured he had this kind of office to discourage him from masturbating at his desk, but now it was giving me a clear view of the danger that was coming my way.

A man in a cheap suit, who was apparently a police detective, was talking with Jimmy. Jimmy had his head in his hands. He was looking downwards and shaking his head in response to their questions. If they got anywhere with Jimmy, if he told them what had happened the previous night at the impromptu pizza party, they were going to get around to interrogating me very soon.

"Hey, foot boy," came a familiar voice from behind me. "Do you have a few minutes to talk?"

It was Detective Haggerty, the female police detective who had interrogated me regarding the incident with the two old ladies at the tennis match. I knew she was very thorough, clever, and was able to detect things other people were unable to detect using her superior detective powers and sharp intellect.

"Okay," I said as I turned around nervously. "I figured someone would want to talk to me at some point."

"I'm using this office back here," she said and motioned to the door to the office that belonged to the vice president of human resources. It was an office without big windows. It only had one window, and that was a window that provided a view of outside. 

I followed her into the office and she closed the door behind us. She motioned for me to sit down in the chair I had sat in back when I was trying to negotiate my salary a year earlier. I had been offered a salary I didn't think was adequate and went in trying to make the case that I wanted more money. When I left, I had settled for a salary much lower than the one that had been initially offered to me.

"Let me start with the obvious question," she said after we'd both sat down. "Do you know anything about Ray Mundo's murder?"

"No."

"I'm being told by a lot of people that he used to bully you. Is that true?"

"Yes, he used to make fun of me all the time."

"How did you break your hand?"

"I punched Ray in the face. Blood came out of his nose but he didn't die."

"You realize you aren't going to leave this room until you give me a foot massage, don't you?"

"I wasn't aware of that, no."

"You have an erection, so you were obviously thinking about it."

"I wasn't. I always have an erection. It is very difficult to give a foot massage with only one good hand."

"I see. Where were you when you punched Ray Mundo in the face?"

"In my apartment."

"Why was Ray at your apartment?"

"I'd rather not say."

"A man is dead and he was at your apartment last night where you punched him in the face. Do you know how that looks? You need to tell me everything that happened."

"Everything?"

"Yes."

"We had a pizza party. It wasn't planned, it just kind of happened. My best friend Jimmy and my girlfriend had an argument and she invited him to come over so they could patch things up and Jimmy was with Ray, so they both came over and brought pizza."

"I see. So, why did you punch Ray? Was he making fun of you?"

"Everything was going great, except the cheese slid off the pizza and onto my shirt and I had to shout it out. Then Jimmy got this idea that he was gay because he got excited when Ray started taking off his pants and he locked himself in my bathroom and started crying."

"Why was Ray taking off his pants?"

"He wanted to have sex with my girlfriend."

"So that's why you punched him?"

"No."

"So, why did you punch him?"

"I'd really rather not say."

"The guy was taking off his pants in your apartment because he wanted to have sex with your girlfriend and that isn't why you punched him? Hell, if you did I would tell you that you were completely justified."

"You could write that down if you want, if you think it will help clear me."

"When those two old ladies were threatening to eat your girlfriend out and stick their fingers in her you went after them and couldn't land a punch. Now you punch this guy Ray in the face hard enough to bust his nose and break your hand. Have you been practicing?"

"Practicing what?"

"Practicing punching people."

"No, we were in relatively close quarters and I was a lot closer to him than I was to those mean old ladies so it was easier to hit him."

"What did he do that made you punch him? What I'm getting at here is that you didn't punch him when he tried to take of his pants to have sex with your girlfriend, so there must have been something else, something bigger that made you hit him."

"Do I have to tell you?"

"The man was found dead this morning at the bottom of the river, so yes. You need to tell me everything."

As I struggled with my response, Detective Haggerty got up from her chair and came around the desk. She leaned back against the desk, standing over me, looking very serious. Her piercing stare cut swiftly and sharply through my feeble defenses.

"They tied me up," I said, with tears in my eyes. "They tied me to a chair and made me watch them have sex with Erica. They were getting her all excited and horny and then Ray started taking off his pants and Jimmy freaked out and locked himself in the bathroom. Ray went to talk to him and found out what Jimmy was upset about and left Erica on the couch alone, all hot and bothered, and she was upset about that and told me to throw them out. Ray wouldn't leave, so I punched him."

"That's what I thought," Detective Haggerty said. "Where did Ray go when he left?"

"I don't know," I said through my tears. "I sent him out the door and he got in his car and left."

"Are you sure?"

"When I got Jimmy to leave he went outside and said Ray left, and since he came with Ray he didn't have any way to get home."

"You should have told him to call a cab."

"I did."

"You aren't as dumb as you look, are you?"

"I don't really know how dumb I look," I told her.

Detective Haggerty reached down and unzipped her boots. She slipped them off and then pulled off her socks. She leaned back against the desk and acted completely casual about what she'd just done.

"What happened after Ray and Jimmy left your place?"

"Erica took me to the emergency room on account of my broken wrist and fingers," I told her while staring down at her bare feet.

"You didn't help her get off after your friends had gotten her all worked up?"

"No, ma'am, I didn't. She said something about me helping her out later, but that never happened."

"Do you ever have sex with your girlfriend?"

"I don't understand how that is relevant to Ray's murder."

"I had a long day yesterday and went home very late. As I was driving down Murdock Street I saw you, on your knees, kissing her feet."

"Really?"

"Were you on your knees in the middle of Murdock Street last night kissing Erica's feet?"

"I wasn't in the middle of the road. We were pulled over to the side. How did you know it was her? She was wearing a hooded sweatshirt and sunglasses."

"Have you ever had sexual intercourse with Erica?" she asked, ignoring my question.

"No."

"Are you aware of the fact that you have been staring at my feet ever since I took my shoes off?"

"Yes."

"Are you aware of the fact that there is no way you are getting out of this room until you do exactly what you did on the side of the road last night with MY feet?"

"I'm not sure I could do it exactly the same," I told her, crying profusely because I was conflicted between my loyalty to Erica and my growing desire for Detective Haggerty's feet.

"I think you could try really hard," she said. "I think you WANT to try really hard, don't you?"

"I'm absolutely devoted to Erica," I told her, unable to stop staring down at her beautiful bare feet. I kept telling myself they weren't Erica's feet. They weren't as smooth, they weren't as delicate, and they didn't have Erica's gorgeous high arches. "I can't be disloyal to her," I sobbed.

"But you WILL be disloyal to her, won't you?"

"No, I can't," I cried as I slipped off the chair and dropped to my knees in front of Detective Haggerty. "Please, don't make me," I said as I lowered my head towards her feet.

"Did you know the last number to call Ray Mundo last night was your girlfriend? According to his cell phone, which we found on the riverbank, she called him at one o'clock, which was just after she brought you to the emergency room. Do you know why she would call him?"

"No," I said, trembling as I resisted the urge to kiss Detective Haggerty's feet.

"I think she called him so they could finish what they started at your apartment. You said she was all worked up after the foreplay, or whatever happened before Ray started taking his pants off. I think she dropped you off at the emergency room and was going to hook up with him while you were having your hand taken care of. I think they met and something went wrong and she killed him, tied a rock around his ankle and threw him in the river."

"She wouldn't do that," I said and then remembered how, after things went wrong during the pizza party, she said that any man who got her worked up and left her high and dry would end up at the bottom of the river.

"But I think she did," Detective Haggerty said, lifting her left foot and caressing the side of my face with the sole of her foot. "Everyone else thinks it has something to do with the mob, something about him having been in the mob and then getting out. I'm the only one who thinks your girlfriend killed him."

"She didn't," I sobbed as she kept caressing my face with her foot and then started running the tip of her big toe along my lips, which I was fighting to keep tightly closed, hating the fact that I had to part them to answer Detective Haggerty's questions.

"Any minute now you are going to lose control and start sucking on my big toe, and then you are going to kiss and lick my feet like the sick pervert you are. I'm impressed by the restraint you've shown to this point. You're obviously very devoted to Erica. I can appreciate that."

I tried to turn my face away from her foot and keep her toe from touching my lips, but she shifted her position and with the top of her foot gently pushing against my cheek, she moved my head back to its original position.

"I can't be disloyal to Miss Erica," I sobbed. "She means everything to me."

"And you would make any sacrifice for her, and do anything to make her happy, wouldn't you?"

"Yes..."

"I'm the only detective in this city smart enough to figure out what really happened last night. No one else will ever put the pieces together to point the finger at Erica, I can guarantee that. And even if anyone does consider the possibility, I can convince them otherwise."

"Why would you do that?"

"I really don't care that someone killed Ray Mundo. I've looked at his file, and I've talked to people who worked with him, people who knew him, even his ex-wife who filed assault charges against him multiple times. He's got a long rap sheet from his days in the mob. The guy was an asshole. Let's not kid ourselves on that point. The thing is, though, if I let this go, if I quash the entire line of inquiry into Erica as a suspect, I wouldn't be doing the job I'm paid to do. No matter what I think about someone, everyone is supposed to be entitled to justice, so I find myself in a quandary."

My lips parted, quivering, and Detective Haggerty's big toe began slowly sliding between them.

"See, now I know we can work together on this," said Detective Haggerty with a smile. "We just need to be on the same page. Erica needs to know she can't just kill a man for leaving her hanging, but I don't think she needs to go to prison for killing that wife-beating piece of shit. I'm sure you agree."

I couldn't control myself any longer. I sucked on her big toe passionately, enjoying how it slid so easily in and out of my mouth. The flesh of her toe was cold at first, but warmed with my attention. She had a callus along her toe, something I was not used to as Erica's feet had none, but I came to like how different her feet were from Erica's.

Detective Haggerty's feet were bigger than Erica's, her arches weren't nearly as high, and her toes were shorter and stubby. She didn't get her toenails manicured, she apparently just trimmed them herself and didn't use any polish. Still, the more I tasted them, and the more I kissed them and enjoyed being so close to them, the more I wanted to please them.

She watched me making love to her feet with my mouth with great delight, and then she picked up her cell phone and began taking pictures of me and what I was doing. I paused for a moment, looking up at her with great horror, but I couldn't stop kissing and licking her feet. I just couldn't.

"That's enough," she said abruptly as I was running my tongue over her very callused heel. "Get back in the chair."

"Yes, ma'am," I said, feeling disappointed in having to stop as well as ashamed of my infidelity.

"I actually enjoyed that," she said after she put her boots back on and went back to sitting behind the desk. "I can see why Erica keeps you around."

"Yes, ma'am," I said quietly, tears still falling from my eyes.

"I'm sorry if I got you all worked up and left you hanging," she said. "Does that make you want to murder me?"

"No, ma'am."

"So, here we are, in a real pickle of a situation. You just went to town on my feet and I have the pictures to prove it. Blackmail is illegal, as I'm sure you aware, but it can be a lot of fun. There's a whole list of crimes that are a lot of fun and that is one of them."

"What are you going to do with the pictures, ma'am?"

"I'm going to send them to Erica," she said as she sat back in her chair and put her hands behind her head, looking very pleased with herself.

"No, please don't, you can't do that, please," I sobbed, throwing my head in my hands.

Detective Haggerty's cell phone rang and she answered it while I continued bawling my eyes out.

"Yes, very good, do you have him in custody? That's great... So, we can leave these people to their business now? Excellent... you did great work today, Peter, I really appreciate it... I'll see you back at the station."

She completed the phone conversation, stood up, and told me to pull myself together.

"They caught the guy who killed Ray Mundo. It was this asshole who used to be a hired gun for the mob. Apparently he found out Ray was screwing his wife and decided to, well, you can figure out the rest."

"But you said..."

"Did you really think your girlfriend killed this guy? Maybe you are stupider than you look."

"She told me if a guy left her hanging like that he would end up at the bottom of the river..."

"Oh for crying out loud, if someone arrested me for every time I threatened to kill a guy for being lame in the sack I'd be on death row. Get real, pervert."

Detective Haggerty collected her things and started out the door.

"Wait, what are you going to do with those pictures?" I asked. "Please don't send them to Erica. I'm begging you. Please don't."

"I'm not going to send them to her just yet," Detective Haggerty told me. "I'm going to hold onto them and we'll see what happens. They might come in handy someday, and then again maybe they won't. Or maybe I just want to look at them some night when I'm alone having too many glasses of bourbon and I want to diddle my fish hole. Who really knows?"

I stared blankly, not knowing what to say or do. She informed the other detectives and uniformed police officers that they had the killer in custody and they could vacate the premises. After they were gone, Jimmy called me aside.

"Did they ask you about last night?" Jimmy asked.

"Yes," I said.

"I had to tell them what happened," Jimmy said nervously. "They told me they were sure I killed Ray because he turned me gay. So, I had to tell them all about how we were going to fuck Erica while you watched and then the detective interrogating me brought these three other cops in the office and made me tell the whole story over again."

"Look, Jimmy, you are NOT gay," I sighed. "Why did they want you to tell the story again to the other three cops?"

"I don't know, but then the detective pressed me really hard and told me to give him Erica's phone number and then these other three cops wrote it down, too. I think they're going to try to pin the murder on Erica!"

"They already caught the guy," I told Jimmy. "Didn't you hear them? He was some mob hit man and Ray was fucking his wife."

"Why would this detective want Erica's phone number if they already caught the killer? It doesn't make sense. And why would the other three cops write down her number unless they were going to interview her about the murder?"

"I can't see there being any other possible reason," I told Jimmy, suddenly concerned the case wasn't really closed and that Detective Haggerty was tricking me again, using the smokescreen of having caught the real killer so she could get Erica to think she'd gotten away with it.

"I bet they are going to start following her, trying to see if she does anything that gives her away," Jimmy deduced. "If they were going to do round the clock surveillance they would need at least three cops to do it, right? They would have three shifts to cover, so it's obvious what the plan is, right?"

"You're right," I said, scratching my chin thoughtfully. "Okay, let's try to get this straight. This detective gets you to tell him about what happened last night, and after you tell him about how you and Ray were doing you know what with Erica, he brings three other cops in the room and makes you tell them about it. Then he asks for her phone number and the other three cops write it down as well..."

"Yeah, that's it exactly."

"Okay, so Detective Haggerty announces they've caught the guy who killed Ray and everyone picks up and leaves, case closed, but these cops want Erica's phone number. That doesn't make sense unless the case isn't really solved and they are actually trying to pin the murder on Erica, letting her, and everyone else, think the case is closed when it ISN'T. Jimmy, you are brilliant. I'm glad you're my best friend."




Absolute Devotion Ch. 09



"Do you remember that movie 'Beverly Hills Cop'?"

"I never saw it," I told him. "I've never been to the movies. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, in this movie Eddie Murphy's buddy gets killed and he goes to Beverly Hills to find the people responsible. And all this crazy shit happens with these half-wit detectives, but then he tracks down the guy that ordered the hit on his buddy, this guy who gets like scary serious and says shit like 'I think you should be more worried about what we are going to do with you,' but with this like, I don't know, weird pauses between the words, and he's really intense..."

"I don't understand why you are telling me about this."

"Do you think it could be the same guy?"

"That was an actor, right?"

"Yeah, I think so, but it could have been based on a true story."

"Well, look into that if you want, but I'm going to see if those cops are setting up surveillance on Erica."

When I got home, Erica wasn't there. She'd left a note saying she needed to go out and would be back later, "probably with a present," which made my erection ache, but also gave me renewed feelings of guilt and shame over what had happened with Detective Haggerty.

I had to find a way to be low key in checking the neighborhood for any sign of the cops that were doing surveillance on Erica. They knew my face, so I needed a disguise. I still had my dead aunt's trunks of clothes and accessories, so I decided to bring my classic old lady disguise back into service.

As I tried to walk casually through the apartment complex, using my best imitation of an old lady gait, I looked for any sign of men sitting in cars trying to blend in. Nothing stood out to me, so I widened my search area to include the surrounding streets. There wasn't a single suspicious looking person in a car, or any panel vans, which I was told by someone I asked, were often used for surveillance.

A text came to my cell phone, which I kept on the down low while checking it. The text was from Erica.

"I might be home late. Had to meet someone at Highlights. Don't wait up. XOXOXO."

She had gone to meet someone at Highlights on the Marsh, the same place she had gone to meet Jimmy when I followed her in much the same disguise I was wearing now. It was uncanny how she seemed to always go there every time I wore this particular disguise.

Since I already had the disguise on, and my search of the neighborhood for cops doing surveillance had not led anywhere, I decided to see what was going on at Highlights. I imagined the bartender missed my witty banter and would be happy to see me again.

"Hi," said the hostess when I walked in. She was the same hostess as the last time I'd come to Highlights in my old lady disguise and she remembered me. I imagined she missed my witty banter and was happy to see me again.

"How are you, darling?" I asked.

"I'm doing well, thank you," she said. Then she looked over at her hostess stand, moved some papers so she could see a photograph, which she proceeded to pick up. She looked at the picture, then at me, and then smiled again. "Are you going to be meeting anyone tonight?"

"No, just by my lonesome tonight," I told her. "Is that picture of someone?"

"Nothing to be worried about," she said and then leaned towards me and whispered, "I was told to be on the lookout for two older ladies who have been assaulting women in town."

"Oh my, is nothing sacred anymore?" I said with feigned shock and surprise.

"They came in here a couple nights ago and assaulted a woman in the ladies' room. We called the police, but they were gone before the cops arrived."

"Goodness, that is just plumb awful! Praise Jesus, I just don't know what kind of world we are living in, all kinds of filthy perverts and nasty people everywhere."

The hostess asked if I wanted a table or if I wanted to sit at the bar again. I looked around and saw Erica at a table away from the bar. She was with a man in a cheap suit, so cheap that the seam in the back of his jacket was splitting, probably without his knowledge, but he had his back to me so I was unable to ascertain his identity.

"Sweetheart, how about letting me sit at a table by the wall? I do enjoy people watching, much like some people like bird watching, except people have much more involved lives due to being people and not birds. How about over there?"

I pointed to a table in a back corner, which wasn't far from where Erica was sitting with the mystery man. It afforded me a view of their table that kept me behind Erica but able to look directly at the man in the cheap suit.

"No problem," she said. "As you can see, we are not very busy tonight, so you can sit anywhere you please."

"Should I seat myself, or how does this work?" I asked, genuinely concerned.

"You can go ahead and sit where you like," she smiled. "I'll send Whitney over to take your order."

"Who is Whitney?" I wondered.

"She's the server who has that table tonight."

"Is she a nice girl?"

"She's a very good server," the hostess said. "You'll be fine."

"Oh, okay sweetheart, I just wanted to make sure she was a nice girl."

I walked towards my chosen table, cutting through the bar area on my way. The same bartender was working. I couldn't remember his name, but I waved at him in a ladylike fashion. He looked at me, smiled tentatively, and offered a very slight wave in return.

I wasn't satisfied with his response to me, so I wandered over to the bar. I stood tall and waited for him to come over to me.

"Hello Evelyn, would you care for a Tom Collins?" he asked.

"I don't think that's my name," I told him.

"What do you think IS your name?"

"Well, why do you think my name is Evelyn? Did I tell you that the last time I was here?"

"The label on your dress was sticking out last time and it had your name written on it."

I didn't want to use the name Evelyn, as that was my dead aunt's name. Everything had just become a LOT more uncomfortable.

"That IS my name, sweetie, I was just testing," I said. "So, I'm becoming a regular here, aren't I?"

"This is your second time, Evelyn."

"I like to be called Grandma," I told him.

"Even by people who aren't your grandchildren?"

"ESPECIALLY people who aren't my grandchildren."

"Okay."

"So, do I get any benefits from being a regular here? Discounts or something?"

"Well, not really," the bartender said.

"You should do something like that," I told him, "then this place wouldn't be so dead."

I harrumphed and walked over to the table I had picked out, the one with the perfect view of the back of Erica's head and the face of her mystery man.

I sat down and waited for Whitney. Apparently they called waitresses 'servers' here, which made me glad for my disguise, as it allowed me to call her a waitress without looking like I was out of touch with modern terminology.

I was about to look over to see the face of the man sitting with Erica when Whitney appeared, completely blocking my view.

"Good evening and welcome to Highlights on the Marsh. I'll be your server tonight, my name is Whitney, and can I start you off with a cocktail?"

"Is that like a bunny tail?"

"Excuse me?"

"A cocktail. Is that like a bunny tail?"

"No ma'am, that is a beverage with alcohol in it."

"Oh my, good heavens, what will they think of next? These modern times with all these new words and ideas, it is so overwhelming sometimes!"

"What did they call a cocktail in your day?" Whitney asked.

"A drink, and yes, I'll have one. A Tom Collins, please. Ask the bartender, he knows how I like them. I'm a regular here."

"Okay, thank you, ma'am. Let me give you this menu, take your time looking it over, and if you need anything at all, my name is Whitney."

"That's a man's name, isn't it?" I asked as I looked her up and down. "I tell you what, I don't care for ladies in trousers, sexual revolution be damned."

"Yes, ma'am, I'll be back with your drink in just a few minutes," Whitney said and walked away, her fabric-encased legs no longer irritating me, at least for the time being.

Once Whitney walked away, I turned my attention back to Erica's table. I could now see the face of the man she was with and I knew exactly who it was.

It was the police detective who had interviewed Jimmy at work. Jimmy had been right. They were following Erica and trying to collect evidence tying her to Ray's murder.

Something needed to be done. I needed a plan and I needed it quickly.



Absolute Devotion Ch. 10



Thanks in part to my other concerns, such as being treated like a regular at Highlights on the Marsh, I had all but forgotten about my modified hearing aids, which were still in my old lady purse. I got them out just before Whitney brought my drink.

"Thank you, dear," I said to Whitney when she put the Tom Collins in front of me. "I'm sorry if I offended you with what I said earlier. It is just that when I see a young woman in pants it gets my blood up. I think it suffocates her femininity."

"I have a skirt that goes with my service uniform here, but I didn't wear it tonight because I'm having my period."

"Are you afraid your pad will fall out, dear?"

"Well, you know, I'm sure..."

"Oh heavens, yes, I know all about being a young woman having her period. I was young once, you know."

"Have you decided what you'd like to order, yet?" Whitney asked me. "Feel free to take your time, but I recommend the calamari appetizer."

"What's that made out of, dear?"

"It's squid. They fry it in breadcrumbs and they look like onion rings."

"Are they actually onion rings?"

"No, they're actually squid that looks like onion rings."

"Well, I don't think I'll be doing that today. Maybe if you have a coupon or something one day. Do you offer a senior citizen discount?"

"I don't believe we do, ma'am."

"You should. How about a veteran's discount? I fought during World War II."

"You were a soldier?"

"No, dear," I said with a chuckle, "I fought with my friend Millie at the armament factory we worked at. We fought like cats and dogs. Nothing serious, don't worry, just two friends having it out."

"Okay, well, let me know when you're ready to order."

"Is there a bell?"

"What do you mean, ma'am?"

"When I'm ready to order, do I have to ring a bell to let you know I'm ready?"

"No, there isn't a bell. You can just wave or look in my direction and I'll know."

"How about if I wave my menu in the air, like this," I suggested while raising my left hand and waving the menu in the air. "Of course, I can't wave my right hand on account of it being in a cast. I fell off the stoop yesterday. Very clumsy of me, but I'm old. Call me Grandma, dear, I'd like that."

"Okay, just let me know, however you prefer, when you are ready to order," Whitney said before walking away.

I was upset at how long she had lingered, blocking my view of the police detective Erica was sitting with. Now that Whitney had stopped her incessant babbling, I could return to the work at hand.

I put the modified hearing aids in my ears and turned my head just enough so that I could hear their conversation. There was a moment of feedback, which caused me to jerk violently, but when people looked in my direction I told them it was an "Alzheimer's spasm" and they looked away.

"You know, you were a suspect initially," the detective was telling Erica.

"Because he was over at my apartment the night before and because I called him just before he was killed?"

"There was a lot of circumstantial evidence that pointed to you," the detective said with a shrug. "Now I'm more interested in your activities that night than I am about anything else. When that Jimmy fellow told me about this pizza party I was very intrigued."

I knew it, Jimmy and I were right. They were trying to get Erica to incriminate herself. I wanted to rush over to their table and tell Erica it was a trap and to get away from the detective, but I could not blow my cover. My undercover operation was tight, my disguise was perfect, and I had established myself as a respected regular at Highlights on the Marsh. Unless Erica's life was in danger there was no way I could give up my cover.

"Are you saying you'd be interested in coming to a pizza party some night?" Erica asked him.

"Let's just say I wouldn't be adverse to the idea. You are a very beautiful, and apparently a very sexual woman. I did a lot of sexual experimenting when I was young, but I was foolish and hadn't earned my stones yet. Ever since the yellow fever took my wife five years ago, I've thought about getting back into a more open and adventurous lifestyle."

I knew exactly what he was doing. He was establishing common ground between them, convincing her that they came from the same type of background and experiences. He was trying to get her to trust him so he could get her talking.

"You should," Erica told him. "We only live once, or so they say. Why not enjoy the time we have?"

"You are a very attractive woman, but I'm sure men tell you that all the time."

"And some women as well," Erica told him. "I think sometimes men feel obligated to tell me that, but if they didn't I might wonder if they hadn't noticed."

"I definitely noticed," the detective said as he raised his glass to his mouth.

"You know I have a boyfriend and that we live together," Erica told him, which caused the detective to smile broadly.

"My partner interviewed him this afternoon and she told me that in the course of their conversation, he admitted that he's never had sex with you. I find that most intriguing."

"You don't need to—"

There was another feedback episode with my hearing aids and my hand shot up to my ear in response to the pain it caused. Whitney took this as her cue to come and take my order, and she arrived at just the wrong time. This detective had implicated Detective Haggerty in the plan. He was giving further evidence of what Jimmy and I suspected was going on. They were definitely in it together, the clever Detective Haggerty and Detective Cheap Suit, but Whitney's arrival was ruining my opportunity to learn more about their scheme.

"Are you ready to order?" Whitney asked me.

"Oh gosh, I'm not sure, just bring me some of that dreadful calamari. Shoo, shoo," I said, gesturing for her to go away.

"So," Erica was telling the detective, "come over tomorrow evening, around six o'clock and you can interview me then, in front of my boyfriend, and if I decide to make the sacrifice you talked about to save myself from life in prison, well, we'll just have to see how it goes, won't we?"

I loved it when my girl showed her smarts. She had intelligence and street smarts and when she used the two of them together, it was amazing. She had adeptly convinced the police detective to come to the apartment tomorrow and continue the interview in front of me. She wanted me to see what was going on, and together we could keep her out of prison.

Erica finished her drink and got up and walked out of the restaurant, leaving the detective sitting alone. He was chuckling to himself as he slowly finished his drink while signaling for Whitney to bring him his check. He paid it and left.

When no one was looking, I stole the tip money he'd left, hoping it would be enough to cover my Tom Collins and calamari. I'd forgotten to bring any money or credit cards due to wearing my disguise and having limited mobility on account of the cast on my right arm.

I stuck the money in my purse and tried to look tired, since I no longer had any reason to stick around and didn't have enough money to have another drink. Whitney seemed to have disappeared, and I found myself feeling flustered by how trapped I was in this corner table, dressed like an old woman and having no reason to be in the restaurant.

"Are you okay, madam?" asked an older man with white hair and glasses who seemed to have appeared alongside my table out of nowhere.

"Oh, mercy, yes, I'm just feeling very tired. This cocktail I had seems to have really sent me on a one way trip to sleepytime."

"May I sit with you for a moment?" he asked.

"Oh certainly, go right ahead, please do, but I won't be staying long."

"How did you hurt your arm?" he asked as he sat down across the table from me.

"I fell off a stoop, goodness me; I can be very clumsy sometimes."

He leaned across the table and spoke in a quiet voice as he said, "I'm here to see Whitney."

"The waitress?"

"Yes, I've got the hots for her," he said.

"She's young enough to be your granddaughter, shame on you."

"So what, I'm 78 years old and I want to get some 24 year old pussy, send me off with a smile. I imagine it would kill me, but that's a-okay with me."

"You are a very sick man," I chuckled. "Such naughty ideas floating around in your noggin, my goodness, I am to blush."

"What's your name, if I may ask?"

"Everyone calls me Grandma," I told him.

"Well, Whitney likes to call me 'Grandpa,' so I guess we are two peas in a pod, aren't we?"

"Oh my, isn't that just the cat's meow."

Whitney appeared, as if out of nowhere, standing alongside our table. I began to wonder if there was some kind of teleportation portal somewhere that enabled people to do that at this particular table.

"Well, isn't that nice, Grandma and Grandpa have met," Whitney giggled.

Grandpa reached over with his left arm and wrapped it around Whitney's waist. Looking directly at me, he said, "Whitney is my girl."

"Goodness me, I do feel a bit flushed now," I said.

"I keep trying to entice Whitney to come up to my cabin at the lake with me, but she thinks I won't behave myself," Grandpa said. "Maybe if you came along to chaperone she wouldn't have to worry her pretty little head about such things?"

"Will you protect me from the big bad wolf, Grandma?" Whitney asked me.

"You mean as in protecting your virginity?" I said nervously.

"I'm afraid that ship sailed a long time ago," laughed Whitney.

"Oh my, times certainly have changed," I said with a shocked expression on my face.

"See, my darling, Grandma can protect you from me. I'm sure she wouldn't let me harm you in any way."

"Well, Grandpa, I don't know, I barely know either of you well enough to go upstate to your cabin with you."

"Just think of us as your grandparents," Grandpa said. "We can pretend your parents went away to Spain for a week and sent you to live with us."

"We can bake cookies and knit Afghans," I told her. "It could be nice."

"I do have the weekend off," Whitney said.

"Well then, it's on then," Grandpa said, letting go of Whitney and bringing his arm back down along his side. "Bring your grandparents a round of drinks."

"Oh, I really should go," I told them.

"Nonsense," Grandpa told me. "This round is on me, and I will pay for whatever you've ordered. We're going to celebrate."

"Well, in that case, I suppose I cannot say no without being impertinent," I said, seeing this as the perfect way to get out of trying to pay my bill with the stolen tip money.

When Whitney returned with the drinks, she sat down in the booth alongside Grandpa. She sat right up against him and I could see his left hand moving over and coming down somewhere on top of her, either on her leg or somewhere more intimate. She just smiled.

"So, how long does it take to get to this cabin," she asked Grandpa.

"About two hours," he told her. "It is right on a peaceful lake, with a nice porch that has a rocking chair and some fine, fine Adirondack furniture. In the early mornings I like to fish, and later I can cook the fish for our meals."

"And we can make Afghans," I reminded her.

"Sounds like fun," Whitney said before getting up.

"It will be so much fun with you there," Grandpa told her before playfully slapping her on the ass.

"I'll write down my address and phone number for you," Whitney told him. "I'm working Friday night, but I'm off the next three days. So, can we leave Saturday morning?"

"I'll be ready early," Grandpa told her. "You can sleep in the car if you like, but there is some very pretty scenery."

"I'll be ready at seven o'clock," she told him. "Is that early enough?"

"A bit later than I am accustomed to, but for you, we'll make an exception."

After finishing my second drink, I told Grandpa I needed to get home. He insisted on getting my phone number, in order to coordinate the trip, so I gave him my cell phone number after much cajoling. As I got up to leave, he grabbed my uninjured arm and turned me towards him. He caught me completely off guard as he kissed me full on the lips and told me, "I'll see you early Saturday morning."

His kiss had given me a fright. I stopped in the ladies' room on my way out and tried to wash my lips with soap, but that didn't turn out to be a good idea. I couldn't stop the repulsive taste and feeling of his kiss from coming back on me. No matter what I did, it continued to cause me great upset on my drive home.

Erica was already home, which put me in a predicament. I was dressed up as Grandma and had no way to change out of my secret identity without going into the house. My plan had not been very well thought through, and I had never considered the possibility that I would be dragged into someone else's sick fantasy before I could get home.

I'd once read a comic book at the bus station where the superhero who was the star of the comic book had a secret identity. When he wasn't a superhero, he was a regular guy who worked at a newspaper and no one knew he was this superhero because he wore glasses when he was being the newspaper guy.

What I needed was some glasses. I also needed to get out of my old lady dress, stockings, old lady shoes and the bra I had stuffed with socks. I also needed to get rid of my wig and makeup. This superhero had been able to do all this in a telephone booth, but the days of telephone booths and their magic powers had come and gone. I needed something else.

The apartment complex we lived in had a swimming pool with a locker room one could use for changing into swim trunks and then back into street clothes. I went over to the locker room and walked in. There was no one at the pool and the locker room was deserted as well, so I began looking through the lockers for clothes people had left behind and finally found a lime green speedo in one of the lockers.

Checking once again to make sure no one was around I quickly stripped out of my old lady clothes and pulled off my wig. Then I tried to wash off my makeup as best I could before walking out to the swimming pool. I jumped in and splashed around for a while, holding my cast above the water the entire time. This way I wouldn't have to lie to Erica about having been out for a swim.

I had stashed my secret identity clothes in a locker. I went back to check on them to make sure they were okay, and to try to find a towel. I couldn't find one, so I walked back to the apartment dripping wet wearing only the lime green speedo. With my pasty, pathetic body I had to be a comical sight.

Then I realized I hadn't found any glasses. I hadn't seen any in the locker room, but then I noticed that someone had left a pair on the dashboard of their car. The doors were locked, so I used a brick to smash the passenger side window, and then reached inside to grab the glasses.

I put them on before going into the apartment, took a deep breath and walked in. Erica was sitting on the couch looking annoyed and confused. She was confused about my appearance, but annoyed about something else.

"Where have you been?" she wanted to know.

"I went for a swim. I feel refreshed."

"I can see that. Are you fooling around with someone behind my back?"

"No, Miss Erica, of course not; I was out for a swim."

"For two hours?"

"Has it been that long?"

"I've been home for two hours. Where have you been all this time?"

"They wanted to talk to me about Ray's murder."

"I happen to know they caught the guy and closed the case. Why would they still want to talk to you about it?"

"I think they're setting up a trap and trying to make it look like you killed him," I told her emphatically. "This whole thing with the mobster is just a smokescreen. They think you did it."

"Who thinks I did it?"

"The police."

"Why would they think that?"

"Because they know I punched Ray in the face and that is how I broke my hand."

"Detective Rosewood wanted to come over and talk to me tomorrow night, but I'm sure it's not related."

"Of course it's related!" I exclaimed. "He has no reason to talk to you except about Ray's murder! Don't you get it? He's trying to set you up for a fall."

"You can be there when he talks to me. If you think something fishy is going on, then you can let me know. I'm not going down for Ray's murder."

Erica got up and went into the bathroom while I stood in front of the front door dripping. She came out and tossed me a towel.

"It is typical of you to go swimming and forget to bring a towel," she remarked. "You know, I don't know where you got that sad ass bathing suit, but we need to find you something else to go swimming in. That thing really makes your dick look small, and I can't have people in this complex thinking I was willing to settle for that."

"You have to have standards," I admitted.

"Damn straight, and while I love you to death, letting people think I settled for that when I've never even touched it is just a ridiculous notion. Get yourself some big, loose fitting swim trunks if you're going to start swimming in the pool."

"I will, Miss Erica. Oh, by the way, can I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"This weekend some friends of mine are going to this cabin upstate and they invited me to come along. Is it okay if I go? I'd be leaving early Saturday morning and coming back probably on Sunday night."

"Of course you can go," Erica told me. "I'm not your keeper... well I'm not your keeper in that sense. Just be a good little boy and remember what I mean to you."

"I will, Miss Erica, I promise. Are you going to be lonely without me?"

"I suppose I will find something to keep myself occupied," she said with a smile. "Thanks for being concerned, but I'm sure I'll be fine. You need to get away for a while, it will do you good. As far as those daily love letters you write and slip under my bedroom door, keep writing them while you're away, but you can give them to me when you return."

"Yes, Miss Erica. Thank you, Miss Erica."

After I toweled off, I put on clean pajamas and went out into the living room to try to watch television, something I wasn't very good at doing. I was still feeling somewhat buzzed from my two Tom Collins drinks, so I pour some peppermint schnapps in my sippy cup and scampered over to the couch. I turned the television on with the remote control, pulled my knees up to my chest, and sipped my schnapps.

Erica had gone off to her bedroom, so I figured I would watch the end of a movie that was on a channel called "Lifetime" and go to bed. I was just getting into the movie, mystified by much of what was going on, but fixated on one character who looked very nice in a bikini, when the doorbell rang.

"Who is it?" I asked after going to the door.

"Police, open the door," came the response.

"What can I help you with, officer?"

"I need to come in and talk to you. Can you open the door?"

"My girlfriend said not to answer the door for anyone late at night, even the police, unless they show me their badge through the peephole."

He held up something to the peephole, but I couldn't tell if it was a police badge or a can of caffeine free Diet Coke. I decided to open the door, and I was relieved to see he was in fact a police officer, in full uniform, and not a psychopath.

"How can I help you, officer?"

"Is Erica home?" he asked.

"Yes, she's in her bedroom. I think she may have gone to sleep. Do I need to wake her?"

"Well, I need to talk to you first," he said. "I called her earlier and she said she would be home, but it took me longer to get here than expected. There was a home invasion on Penelope Street and that delayed my arrival."

"I see," I said. "Have a seat. Sit anywhere."

He sat in the one place I hoped he wouldn't, in my easy chair, so I sat down on the couch and pretended what he did hadn't bothered me.

"We have reason to believe that there is something going on here."




Absolute Devotion Ch. 10



"What do you mean?"

The police officer pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket, unfolded it, scanned it quickly, sighed and then answered my question. "We have reason to believe that after you punched Ray Mundo in the nose that further acts of violence were perpetrated upon his person and that he never left this apartment on his own power."

"Why are you here telling us this? Isn't this something Detective Haggerty or Detective Cheap Suit would normally be telling us?"

"I'm here in their stead."

"In their what?"

"Stead. I'm here in place of them."

"Why?"

"I was in the neighborhood."

"You said you were tied up for hours with a home invasion and were supposed to be here earlier."

"I may have said that, yes."

"I think you need to leave. Erica is innocent of Ray's murder and you already have the killer in custody."

"He escaped custody this afternoon."

"How?"

"I'm not at liberty to say, other than to say that he did. He is on the loose and we believe someone is helping him to get out of town."

"Erica didn't help him escape."

"We believe he tried to escape because he is innocent. In my experience, guilty men never try to escape from jail, the guilt weighs them down too much. An innocent man will be lighter in his conscience and be able to flee with greater ease."

"Is that really true?" I asked, very much surprised by this revelation.

"Yes, and this is why we are looking at Erica again for Ray Mundo's murder."

"None of this seems to be on the up and up to me, but I'm not all there."

There was a loud banging on the door to the apartment. I went and opened it to find Detective Cheap Suit and two other uniformed police officers standing there. When combined with the officer who had already arrived, Jimmy's equation was complete. It was the detective and three cops, just like he told me.

"What's going on?" I asked the detective. "What's going on?"

"We need to take Erica into custody," he told me.

"I thought you were coming over tomorrow night?" Erica said after coming out of her room wearing a tight white t-shirt and pink fleece sleep shorts. She looked very sexy and I was getting extra hard looking at her.

"Things changed," Detective Cheap Suit told her. "We need to take you in, tonight."

"Take me in? I thought you were just going to question me again?"

"We have evidence," the detective said. "We have evidence that puts you at the scene of the crime, where Ray Mundo was thrown into the water."

"What kind of evidence?" Erica asked.

Detective Cheap Suit held up a gold ankle bracelet with Erica's name on it. "Are you missing something?" he asked.

"I was wondering what happened to that," Erica said and put her hands up on her face and made an expression just like the kid from the 'Home Alone' movie posters.

The detective had Erica put her hands behind her back and he secured her wrists with handcuffs. Then, just as he was about to lead her out of the apartment, and just before she took the sneakers I offered to she wouldn't hurt her beautiful feet walking outside barefoot, she said something.

"Is there any way we can make a deal here?"

"What do you mean?" Cheap Suit asked her.

"Well, you've caught me. You've found the evidence that can put me away for a very long time. I don't have anything to lose. Is there any way we can make a deal here?"

Detective Cheap Suit, whose name was actually Detective Rosewood, began rubbing his chin thoughtfully with his hand. The three police officers began doing the same, and for a couple of minutes they all appeared to be lost in thought, trying to determine a way to resolve the situation at hand to everyone's benefit.

Rosewood then walked behind Erica and unlocked her handcuffs and removed them. He turned towards me and motioned for me to turn around.

"I didn't do anything," I pleaded.

"You assaulted Ray Mundo. You confessed to that much."

"I didn't kill him!" I cried out.

"Turn around."

With tears in my eyes, I turned around and allowed Detective Rosewood to cuff me. Because of my cast, they had to do some "adjustments," but they weren't satisfied. Rosewood told one of the officers to go out to his car and bring back "the serious shit."

I stood there, wild eyed and confused, while Erica went over to the couch and sat down. The officer came back in with a menacing set of manacles and chains.

"What the hell is that?" I asked.

"You are a very dangerous felon," Rosewood told me. "We can't take any chances. You already assaulted one man, and possibly killed him, so we have to follow procedure."

The officer, who I learned was named Officer Bill, attached manacles to my ankles and then drew the chains behind my back and secured them to the handcuffs. I was barely able to move in small, shuffling steps, if at all. Then Officer Bill forced me down into a kneeling position on the floor.

"Why don't you confess to killing Ray Mundo," suggested Detective Rosewood as he lit a cigarette and began smoking.

"We don't smoke in the house," I told him. "Sometimes Erica has a cigarette, but she smokes it outside."

Rosewood sighed. "If you confess to killing Ray Mundo we won't have to arrest Erica. With the evidence we have, the only way she can escape prosecution is if someone else confesses to the crime."

"I thought someone else already confessed," I told him.

"He escaped."

"And that invalidates his confession?"

"Pretty much."

"I don't understand how that is possible."

"Did you go to law school?"

"No."

"Then shut up. Either you confess to the crime and allow us to take you in or we'll arrest Erica and put her in the holding sell with those two old ladies."

"Which two old ladies?"

"The ones who assaulted her at the tennis match. They escaped and were recaptured and they are in a holding cell right now at the station."

"How many people escape from police custody in this town? What do you have, a revolving door on your jail cells?"

Rosewood smacked me across the face with a leather glove. "Don't get smart with me, tough guy."

I'd never been called "tough guy" before and it allowed me a moment of happiness in all the chaos surrounding me.

Erica got up and dropped down on her knees beside me. She looked up at Detective Rosewood, her beautiful blue eyes tearing up, and pleaded for my life.

"Please, Detective Rosewood, don't take my sweetheart to jail. I couldn't bear it."

"We don't have a choice, either you or him."

"What if there was another way?" Erica asked.

"I don't see any other possible way, but I'm open to suggestions."

Erica was kneeling to my right and Detective Rosewood was standing to my left. As I waited, wondering if there could possibly be another solution, Erica crawled on her knees towards Rosewood and began unbuckling his belt.

"I'm starting to see a potential alternate solution," laughed Rosewood maniacally.



Absolute Devotion Ch. 11



"I have to do this, or one of us is going to prison," Erica said as she finished unbuckling Detective Rosewood's pants and unzipped his fly while looking deeply into my eyes.

"You realize just giving me head isn't going to be enough," Rosewood told her as he took her chin in his hand and made her look up at him. "This isn't a parking ticket, this is first degree murder."

"I understand," Erica said, looking more nervous and scared than I'd ever seen her look before.

They were less than two feet in front of me, and being that close to Erica's beautiful face was a wonderful thing, but when she unzipped Rosewood's fly, grabbed hold of his belt loops, and began to pull his pants down, I was afraid.

He was wearing striped boxer shorts, and once Erica had his pants down around his ankles, she began pulling down his boxers as well. He wasn't completely hard, which as far as I was concerned was an insult to Erica, but his cock was enormous. Even not fully erect it was probably ten inches long and as big around as a table leg. His balls were gigantic as well, and swung freely beneath him like pendulums of some kind.

Looking up at Rosewood, Erica said, in a little girl's voice, "Mister, you have a very beautiful cock and I look forward to having it inside me."

I didn't like having his huge cock so close to my face, but I couldn't really move in my restraints. I couldn't walk, couldn't get up off my knees, and I dared not speak or protest because I knew I couldn't say anything that would make what was happening any better.

There was a knock on the door and all I could think was, "Oh no, not more cops," but the three uniformed officers and Detective Rosewood all looked at each other and shrugged.

Rosewood pulled up his pants, told Erica not to go anywhere, and went to the door. He looked through the peep hole and then pulled the door open.

"What do you people want? Keith and Erica are busy right now."

"We wanted to know if they wanted some pizza," I heard Jimmy's voice say.

"You came over for a pizza party?" Rosewood asked. "How many fucking pizza parties do you motherfuckers have?"

"Well, this isn't really a party or anything. We were just having drinks and thought, 'Hey, let's see what Keith and Erica are up to. Maybe they would like some pizza."

"Do you people call ahead or just do the drop by? I hate the fucking drop by."

"Oh wait, I know who you are," Jimmy's voice said. "You're the detective who talked to me at work today. I almost didn't recognize you."

"We talked for almost an hour and you don't recognize me?"

"Nah, I recognize you, man. I just wanted to like pretend we just met."

"Are you stoned, young man? You sound stoned."

"Maybe I am."

"How about you?" Rosewood said, turning his head towards whomever it was that was with Jimmy. "Are you stoned?"

"I am, yeah, I am stoned. What do you think about my ass?" It was Cat, my temporary assistant from the shredder room.

"Get the fuck in here, both of you," Rosewood barked. "Get inside the apartment."

Rosewood pulled Jimmy in by the collar of his shirt and threw him in the direction of the couch. Cat walked in on her own power. She was spinning about as she walked, looking up and around in all directions, and talking about how "cool" everything was. She was wearing very tight short shorts, and I had to admit, she actually did have a great ass.

She also had amazing thighs. Her legs were shorter and wider than Erica's, with big round thighs that didn't appear to have any cellulite or blemishes of any kind. She had cute little fat knees and strong, compact calves. If Erica hadn't been in my life I would have considered beginning an office romance with Cat after I got back to the office. That is to say, if I ever got back to the office.

"What's going on, man?" Jimmy asked, looking at me. "Why you all chained up like that, dude?"

"He's being arrested for the murder of Ray Mundo," Rosewood told him.

The three uniformed cops were upsetting me by walking around the apartment and touching things. They would pick up various collectible figures, a recent hobby of mine that I had somehow found time for, touch them inappropriately and put them down in incorrect positions. They also seemed to feel they had the right to help themselves to snack food, coffee, and beer.

I was in no position to protest. Once a man is placed in handcuffs by the police, his conviction of whatever crime he has been accused of is merely a formality. If you want to avoid trouble with the police, don't commit any crimes and you won't be bothered. Only the guilty are ever accused of crimes and any other interpretation is simply propaganda.

Even though I knew I was innocent of Ray's murder, I feared that arguing my case would result in some kind of punishment, like being hit with a police baton or slapped with Rosewood's special leather glove. Then, just as I thought all was lost, Jimmy winked at me and gave me a knowing look.

He was up to something. He had a plan. Everything was going to be okay.

Erica was still kneeling on the floor next to me. The uniforms continued meandering around the apartment getting into all of mine and Erica's things. Cat kept walking around the apartment like she was surfing on a cloud while Jimmy looked like he was only half conscious on the couch. Time was passing.

Detective Rosewood pulled a cell phone out and made a call.

"Yeah, it's me. You better get over here. There's been some... complications."

Rosewood went to the window that looked out at the parking lot and stood there looking out between the closed blinds without saying a word for several minutes.

"Dude," Jimmy suddenly yelled out to me, "guess what? I'm not gay. I'm totally into Cat."

I nodded at him and rolled my eyes.

I kept trying to figure out what was wrong with the entire situation. Rosewood had dinner with Erica, they were talking very friendly, and now he was being very hostile towards her. I was missing something, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

There was a knock on the door and one of the uniforms, Officer Money, walked into the apartment. I'd just seen him in the kitchen, messing with my refrigerator magnets, and had no idea how he'd gotten outside.

He had my old lady disguise in his arms and dropped it on the coffee table. He looked at me, made a "tsk tsk" noise, and went back into the kitchen.

"Seems like you have been up to something, Keith, what's with the disguise?"

"That isn't mine," I lied.

"I've never seen him wear that," Erica said. "Those look like old lady clothes. Where did you find them?"

"In the locker room at your apartment complex swimming pool, that's where," replied Rosewood.

"How does that make them Keith's?" Erica demanded to know. "You're framing my boyfriend!"

"Does he always wear glasses?" Rosewood asked Erica.

"What?"

"The glasses he's wearing. He wasn't wearing glasses when he was interviewed at work."

"Huh? I never realized he was wearing those," she said. "Honey, did you get new glasses?"

"A car was broken into in the parking lot and the only thing stolen out of them was a pair of eyeglasses," Rosewood said before lighting another cigarette.

"We really do prefer if you smoke outside," Erica told him.

"I don't give a rat's ass what you prefer," Rosewood told her.

"You're very impolite," I said, finally getting up the nerve to speak. "If I agree to confess to this crime, can we stop this? I don't even know what's going on any more."

The door flew open and Detective Haggerty, dressed in open-toed high heels, walked into the apartment like she owned the place.

"Someone may have spotted Dibella at the national park," she said. "We get him and we can put this to rest."

"What the fuck is going on?" Erica yelled and got up on the floor. "This is NOT what we agreed to, Rosewood."

"Things have changed," Rosewood told her.

"You came over a day early, you went WAY off script, and now you invite your bitch of a partner over here? What the FUCK is going on?"

"Oh, so I'm the bitch now?" Detective Haggerty replied, looking at Erica with disdain. "I'm not even getting into this with you, woman. I'm just not."

Detective Haggerty threw up her hands in disgust and turned away from Erica. She looked at the pile of old lady clothes, the key to my secret identity, and asked Rosewood, "This is the one? You sure?"

"Yeah, she was at Highlights by herself and then met with Marcello. They talked about going up to a cabin somewhere upstate. I didn't think it was a real old lady, so I followed up."

"Good job," she said quietly and patted him on the shoulder. "We got this. Don't worry. We got this."

"All of you, get the fuck out of my apartment," Erica screamed. "This is NOT what we agreed to."

"Someone let Keith out of those handcuffs and whatever the fuck you chained him up with. What is that, leg irons from the 1950s? The guy has a broken wrist for crying out loud," said Detective Haggerty with a sigh. "Jesus, Rosewood, when you fuck something up you REALLY fuck it up."

"I thought you said we got this? I thought you said we were okay?" Rosewood said as he turned around and looked at Haggerty with a sad puppy dog expression.

"I said we got this. I didn't say you didn't fuck it up in the first place. Those concepts are not mutually exclusive... fuck it, never mind, just get foot boy out of his chains."

"Foot boy?" asked Erica angrily, demanding an explanation with her glare.

"Chill out, slut. I'm on your side."

Erica glared at her and balled up her fists like she was going to punch Detective Haggerty.

"Okay, I'm sorry Miss Erica," Haggerty sighed as the officers released me from my restraints. "I'm sure you're a very sweet girl."

Erica continued to glare at her with a look of pure hatred. Haggerty didn't seem to care in the least.

I was happy to be released from my chains, but mesmerized by what appeared to be two women fighting over me, seething with hatred for each other, and wanting to mark their territory.

"We'll drop all the charges for the vehicle break in and theft of the glasses if you agree to help us by going undercover for us," Detective Haggerty told me.

"Undercover?"

"We knew the organized crime division had an operative working inside the mob who had gotten close to Richie Marcello. They refused to give you up, told us you weren't a cop, that you were an informant, and they needed to protect you. We know Richie Marcello has Victor Dibella, the man who killed Ray Mundo, stashed somewhere. They used to work together back in the old days. We'll protect your identity, but we need you to go on that trip with Marcello."

"Trip?" I wondered out loud.

"You can drop the pretense. Detective Rosewood saw you in that disguise, acting like an old lady to get close to Marcello. The disguise is very convincing. We heard the informant was a crossdresser, but we didn't think we were looking for an old lady."

"My aunt died and left me these clothes," I said, struggling to understand what she was talking about.

"We know Marcello invited you up to his cabin upstate, which is where we think Dibella is hiding out. We don't know where it is, so we need you to go with him, get us the location, and confirm that Dibella is there. If you do that, and we get Dibella back in custody, you'll be cleared of all charges."

"Do you mean Grandpa? I never got his real name."

"Yeah, he used to use that name all the time. He likes to pick up young women. He doesn't like them underage and they are always consenting, so we've never able to bust him on that, but he's still creepy. An 80 year old man picking up twenty-somethings? That's just barfworthy."

"He invited Whitney, the waitress from Highlights, up to his cabin. She's in her twenties."

"I know. We didn't think she'd bite on the invitation. We figured she was just playing along with his grabby hands and sexually suggestive comments, but he's obsessed with her and that's why he came back to town. Now all we need to do is have you wear a wire, go up to the cabin with them, and flush out Dibella."

For some reason, everyone stayed at the apartment until Saturday morning. The three uniformed cops took turns sleeping on the couch, Rosewood occupied my favorite chair, Jimmy and Cat spent most of the time having sex in my bedroom, and Detective Haggerty never slept. She just paced about, looking intensely focused, and barely said a word.

Erica went to her room and stayed there with the door locked. She seemed very upset, but I was fairly certain her anger wasn't directed at me, which was a great relief under these difficult circumstances.

When Saturday morning arrived, Detective Haggerty's intensity turned into action.

"Okay, foot boy, get into your old lady clothes and let's get this show on the road," she told me.

I changed into my disguise, feeling very uneasy about my secret identity being known by so many people. Once I had become Grandma again, I waited for further instructions.

My cell phone rang and I started to shake and cough. Detective Haggerty told me to calm down and answer it, which I was able to do because she had such focus and determination and I didn't want to let her down.

"Hello?" I said in my old lady voice as I answered my cell phone.

It was Grandpa, otherwise known as Richie Marcello. He wanted to know if he needed to pick me up or if I could meet him at a hole in the wall breakfast place. I looked at Detective Haggerty, who shook her head and quietly said, "Meet him somewhere."

"I can meet you there," I told Grandpa. "My place is a fright and I haven't had time to make it presentable for a gentleman caller."

Detective Haggerty told the three uniformed police officers they could go home. After they had left, she woke Detective Rosewood and told him, "Game on."

"I need to tell Miss Erica that I'm leaving," I told Detective Haggerty.

I went to Erica's bedroom door and knocked quietly. After I knocked a second time, she opened the door and told me to come inside. I'd never been in her bedroom before. She had decorated it very nicely, with a couple of framed floral prints and a glass dolphin statue. I told her that her bedroom was very nice and then she closed the door.

"You've had her feet, haven't you?" Erica demanded to know. I could see evidence that she'd been crying.

"Yes," I confessed, "but she made me. She tricked me..."

"Its okay, my sick little monkey, I know you're weak when it comes to certain things. I blame her, not you, for trying to take what is mine."

"I'm sorry it happened. I love you, Miss Erica."

"I know, and I love you, too. This has all been very upsetting for me. I had a plan with Rosewood. He was going to come over with those three cops and act like they had evidence to arrest me for Ray's murder. I gave them the ankle bracelet to use as evidence, but it was all a ruse."

"You were pretending they were arresting you?"

"Yes," she said, teary-eyed. "It was going to turn into this thing where I had to have sex with Rosewood and the three cops in order to avoid being arrested. It was supposed to be a game so we could have some fun with you and make you watch."

"That would have been very exciting," I told her.

"Yes, it would have, but then it got all fucked up. Why are you dressing up in old lady clothes and hanging around at Highlights? Are you really a police informant?"

"I went there so I could spy on you," I admitted. "I didn't know anything about Grandpa or that he was working with the guy who killed Ray. I was just sitting there having a drink when he came and sat down and started talking to me about how he wanted to go to bed with Whitney, the waitress there. He invited me to come up to his cabin with him and Whitney and make Afghans."

"Did he say anything about this Victor guy being up at the cabin?"

"No, he said he wanted Whitney to come up to the cabin with him and we would pretend we were Whitney's grandparents and she was staying with us while her parents were in Spain on vacation."

Erica had me sit down on a short stool. She was wearing her see-thru pink teddy and looked very beautiful. After I sat down, she took a seat on the floor and lifted her beautiful bare leg in the air, right in front of my face. My always erect penis became very painfully hard.

"You can beat off with your left hand, I believe?" she asked.

"Yes, Miss Erica," I said despite my breathing becoming very labored.

"Then why aren't you beating off?" she asked.

There was a loud knocking on Erica's bedroom door accompanied by Detective Haggerty's voice saying, "We've got to get moving."

"Keep your panties on, bitch," Erica yelled back. "He's jacking off on my leg."

"He's doing what?" Haggerty yelled back as I started stroking myself.

"He's jacking off on my leg."

"Well, that shouldn't take long," Haggerty sighed. "Rosewood is packing up the surveillance van. We're going to be ready to go in five minutes."

"Moan for me," Erica said as I jerked my cock hard and fast.

I began moaning, loud and excitedly, as I stared up and down the full length of Erica's right leg.

It was gorgeous, and as many times I'd looked at her legs and fantasized about touching them, I had come to accept that I was not allowed to touch any part of her above her ankles. This was a special treat. I knew she was doing it so she could make Detective Haggerty jealous, but that didn't matter to me. What mattered was that I was getting to jerk off while staring at Erica's leg. It was an event I long dreamed of but never expected to actually happen.

Her legs were so smooth, so toned, and so perfectly tanned. She would bend her knee and then stretch her leg to full extension, pointing her long, delicious toes to the sky as if to say even the angels could not conceive of such divine beauty.

I kept getting right to the edge of orgasm, but then it would retreat, not because it was afraid to come, but because I knew that once I shot my load Erica would pull her leg away and I'd be on my way to Grandpa's cabin.

"Let it come," Erica said in her most seductive voice. "Let it come..."

I got to the edge again, and when I did I slowed down, started crying and then started stroking faster again. Erica pivoted on the floor, putting her body between my legs with just enough distance between us that she could reach up with her feet and take my four inch cock between them.

"Is this what you want?" she asked with a gleam in her eyes.

I started bawling, my cries and shrieks slicing the air, as she held my penis between the soles of her feet, caressing it with her soft, high arches, and began slowly moving her feet up and down.

Detective Haggerty started banging on the door again. "What the fuck are you two doing in there? You better not kill him, you fucking bitch!"

I screamed in overwhelming ecstasy as I came, shooting long streams of semen high in the air.

Erica didn't answer Haggerty; she just smiled and kept moving her feet up and down on my cock, relentlessly continuing to stroke my erection between her arches. I could feel every wrinkle, every perfectly formed line as my arousal began to reach heights I'd never imagined possible.

I stopped being able to think. I stopped being able to see. I stopped being able to hear and was no longer aware of any element of my surroundings other than the way Erica's perfect feet felt wrapped around my cock, slowly sliding up and down on it, never pausing, and never stopping. I wanted this to go on forever.

I couldn't cum again, at least not right away, but my body was seizing, jerking, and making all kinds of uncontrollable movements as I moaned and cried.

Detective Haggerty forced the door open and burst into the room. I tried to ignore her entrance, but she broke the spell I was under, and no matter how hard I tried to drift back into the trance I'd been in, when she started yelling, everything stopped being wonderful.




Absolute Devotion Ch. 11



"You're killing him!" Haggerty yelled at Erica. "His body can't handle that much ecstasy!"

Erica kept sliding her feet up and down on my erection, and I went in and out of consciousness, letting the world around us slip away, but then having it intrude on me once again.

"You can't have him," Erica told the detective.

"I don't want him, you crazy bitch," Haggerty told her. "You can have him. I just need to get this operation underway now. Marcello is waiting at the coffee shop and if he leaves, this operation falls apart."

For the first time since I entered Erica's room I became aware of the fact that I was wearing my Grandma disguise. That realization gave me a sudden feeling of discomfort, as I enjoyed what Erica was doing more than anything I'd experienced before, but I didn't think it fit with Grandma's personality and cover story.

"Okay," Erica said, sounding resigned as she took her feet away from my cock and got herself up to a standing position. "Take him, but you better bring him back in one piece."

"Yeah, don't worry about it. I take care of my informants."

"Oh, sweetie, I almost forgot to tell you something," Erica said as she gently grabbed my good arm.

"Yes, Miss Erica?"

"Remember how I told you about that guy Dirk, the one I've been seeing two or three times a week?"

"I remember."

"Things have been getting serious between us. I wasn't really sure how to tell you. I knew I needed to, and while I know this isn't the best time to tell you this, it isn't something I can keep from you any longer."

"What do you mean by serious?" I asked, my heart racing in a different direction than it had when she was stroking me with her feet.

"We can talk about it when you get back," she said, stroking my arm the way someone pets a dog. "I've been thinking a lot about my life, and I'm not getting any younger. Dirk isn't like other men I've been with, he's sensitive and caring. He's even talked about getting married."

I stood with my mouth agape, not knowing what to say. Then Detective Haggerty grabbed my other arm, the one with the cast on it, and started pulling me towards the door.

"We have to go, foot boy, come on," she said firmly.

"I have to get into character," I told her. "You need to call me Grandma."

"Okay, Grandma, let's go."

Detective Haggerty led me to my car and told me to drive. She got in on the passenger side and rode with me to the hole in the wall breakfast place. When we got there, she put her hand on my leg and told me to wait for a moment before going in.

"You realize that woman is just messing up your head," she told me. "She doesn't love you, Keith. She's just using you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said. "My name is Grandma and my late husband has been gone for twenty years now."

"Okay, go meet Marcello. We can talk about this later."

I was distracted by many thoughts as I approached the breakfast place. The most distressing of those thoughts was of Jimmy and Cat spending so much time in my bedroom. I really hoped they weren't breaking or moving my things and hoped they intended to wash the sheets on my bed when they were through.

I walked into the restaurant and immediately saw Grandpa and Whitney, sitting at a table together. She was having eggs and bacon with coffee. Grandpa was having coffee as well, but he was eating oatmeal, a favorite of old timers.

"Should I sit down and join you or are we ready to scurry off on our grand adventure?" I asked.

"Have you eaten?" Grandpa asked.

"No, I haven't, and I probably should as I received quite a workout this morning."

"You 'received' a workout? How intriguing," remarked Grandpa. "Join us, we have some time."

I was a bit torn about his response. Detective Haggerty had insisted we needed to rush to the restaurant before Whitney and Grandpa left for the cabin without me, but now that I had arrived they seemed to be in no rush whatsoever.

I ordered items I thought would be typical of an old lady, such as oatmeal and prune juice, and the three of us ate together like old friends. While I tried to choke down the prune juice without appearing distressed by its foul taste, Whitney began a story.

"I went fishing with my uncle once," she said. "We went down to this pond and he showed me how to cast my line into the water and I reeled in this huge marlin and he was embarrassed by my good fortune and never took me fishing again."

"You caught a marlin in a pond?" Grandpa asked. "Is this story in any way true?"

"I have an uncle," she reported.

Once we finished, Grandpa used the power of chivalry to pay for all our meals, and we were off to the cabin. He led the way outside and Whitney and I followed close behind. His car, an old wood paneled station wagon, was loaded with supplies but had ample room for three passengers without having to sit with luggage on your lap. I was glad for that. When I was young my parents had a small car and when we went on trips I had to sit in the back seat with all of the luggage and other items we owned on top of me.

"Yay! Road trip!" exclaimed Whitney, who was wearing a tube top and daisy dukes, which revealed she had no reason to be wearing long pants. Her legs were far from being as reality defying as Erica's, but they were long, lean, and fairly toned. She did need to get more sun, however, as while her thighs were not pale, they were definitely on the lighter side of beige.

"I haven't seen a young lady in a top like that since 1979," I told Whitney, speaking in regards to her tube top. "Wherever did you find such a thing?"

"It was in my mom's things when she died. I kind of like the way it makes my boobs look."

"Oh, I agree with you, honey," said Grandpa. "Your boobs look great."

"Thanks, Grandpa."

"Oh my," I was heard to remark. Her breasts were actually quite small, and were barely noticeable, even in the tube top.

I was in the back seat, as Grandpa wanted Whitney up front so he could look at her and occasionally grope her. She giggled at him and called him a "dirty old man" when he did things like move his tongue around in his mouth and push it against the inside of his cheek repeatedly. I found it reprehensible, but somehow titillating.

I tried not to be obvious when I'd turn and look behind us. I was trying to see if the two detectives were following in the surveillance van, but it was hard to see anything with all the luggage and boxes of undetermined contents piled up in the back of the station wagon.

We stopped for gas, at which point Grandpa said we were only fifteen minutes away from our destination. I told Grandpa I needed to stretch my legs, at which point he turned to Whitney and said, "I'll stretch your legs later," and then made farm sounds before saying, "Ooh, ooh, piggy! Ooh, ooh, piggy piggy!"

"Stretching my legs" was an excuse to walk around to try to see if I could see any sign of the surveillance van. There were a few families, probably actual families rather than people pretending they were a family for weird sexual reasons, at the gas station, which sat at the entrance to a national park. I didn't see the surveillance van anywhere, and hoped that was because Detective Haggerty was very clever and good at her job and not because they'd gotten lost trying to follow us.

"We're at a gas station at the entrance to a national park," I said out loud, knowing the wire I was wearing would pick it up. "I hope you are still following us. If not, he says we're only fifteen minutes away from the cabin."

Whitney raced past me, giggling loudly. Grandpa was chasing her with his hands outstretched in front of him making pig noises and chanting, "Sooooweeeee... Sooooooweeeeeee..."

There was a loudspeaker not far from where I was standing, but I was unaware of its presence until an announcement came over it.

"There is a telegram for Keith the foot boy at the cashier. Please come and retrieve it if you are here."

I had never received a telegram before and thought they had gone out of style like telephone booths. I tried to act casual, not wanting Grandpa or Whitney to see me respond to the announcement, but they were still running around acting out some kind of farm routine, so I started towards the gas station cashier.

"You have a telegram for Keith?" I asked, using my regular voice despite being in full old lady dress.

"Yes, is he here?"

"I'm traveling with him. Can I pick it up and bring it to the car for him?"

"He has to get it himself."

"Can I show you his driver's license to prove that I'm with him?"

"He has to get it himself."

Not knowing what else to do, I went into the men's room and quickly changed back into my regular self. I didn't have any clothes other than the old lady clothes, but there were some rubbery fishing pants in the station wagon. They were the kind a fisherman wears when wading out into water that comes up to his waist, "hip waders" I believe they are called, so I bought a tourist type t-shirt from the cashier and went into the bathroom to change.

"I'm Keith," I said very seriously. "Do you have a telegram for me?" I asked.

"Yes, sir," the cashier said. "Just sign for it here and it's all yours."

He pointed to where I had to sign and I took the telegram into the men's room. After I changed back into my old lady secret identity clothes, I looked at the telegram to see what it said.

"We didn't lose you. Don't panic."

That was all it said. It wasn't signed and gave no information as to who had sent it. I figured it was a crank telegram and threw it in the trash.

We were underway again. As Grandpa drove up a steep incline, which he said led up to the cabin, I continued to worry about whether or not the two detectives were still following us. I wished that the wire worked both ways, as in enabling them to communicate with me instead of just allowing them to hear everything I said and did. That way I would have some idea if they were still following Grandpa's station wagon.

As things stood, I had no idea if I was going off into the unknown without anyone to back me up if there was trouble. We were only minutes away from a cabin where the man who had killed Ray Mundo was hiding out. Things were getting very tense and I was regretting not having tinkled while in the men's room.



Absolute Devotion Ch. 12



The cabin was much as Grandpa had described it, on a peaceful lake, surrounded by woods, and with Adirondack furniture on the porch. What he didn't describe very well was the interior, which contained two well-worn cots with stained sheets, a wobbly table with four rusty folding chairs around it, and a kitchen that included, amongst other things, an old man making a salad.

"Hi, I'm Victor," the man said. "I'll be done making this salad in a jiffy."

"Good to meet you, Victor. I didn't know we'd have company."

"Well, if I know Richie, he is eager to get that young lady into one of the beds, so I won't be getting in the way. I just thought I'd make a salad in case any of you were hungry after the long drive."

"I'm Grandma," I told him. "This is Whitney, and you already know Grandpa."

"Yeah, Grandpa, Richie, whatever he's going by these days is fine. Back when we were icing guys together in the mob, Richie used to get all the ladies, especially the young ones."

"Is that right?" Whitney asked Grandpa. "Well, someone wasn't being honest when they said they were lonely, were they?"

"That was a long time ago, sweet cheeks. That was back before you were born."

"Aw, Grandpa, did you used to be a real hit with the ladies?" Whitney asked, smiling.

"I know my way around the courtyard, if that's what you mean. I was thinking about making some beef stroganoff, anyone interested?"

"Are these binoculars?" I asked as I picked up a pair of binoculars.

"That they are," said Victor.

"Can I look through them with my peepers?" I asked.

"Sure, our house is your house."

I used the binoculars to scan the area around the cabin for any sign of the two detectives. Having gotten zero confirmation that they were still watching us, I had to assume they had gotten lost or been detained until I had proof that they were still following us.

"I like your tube top," Victor told Whitney. "I bet it comes off real easy."

"Just one swift motion is all it takes," she said before making that required motion and tossing the tube top onto the kitchen counter. "It isn't like I have much in the way of boobs anyway."

"Oh my, sweetie, you need to cover up. There are gentlemen present," I told her after giving up on the binoculars.

"Aw, come on Grandma," Victor said. "Ain't no harm done. You should live a little."

"Why stop with just the top?" Grandpa asked her. "We're all alone up here, Whitney. Why don't you get naked for us?"

"What kind of girl do you think I am?" she asked indignantly.

"How about you, Grandma? Why don't you take some of those clothes off? It's a little hot for a dress like that and that thick, rubbery pantyhose you're wearing."

"These are my medical tights!" I yelled out hoarsely.

Grandpa went into a closet and came out wearing just boxer shorts, a Hawaiian shirt he didn't bother to button up, and leather sandals. It was almost the same outfit Victor was wearing, except the boxers were different, as well as the print on the Hawaiian shirt.

"Come on, Granny, take your knickers off," coached Victor.

Someone knocked on the door and Grandpa went to answer it. After he saw who it was, he came back into the cabin and told me, "It's for you."

It was a man dressed like a park ranger and he looked nervous.

"Can I help you, dear?" I asked him.

"Two people in a van asked me to come up here and tell you something."

"Tell me what, for heaven's sake?"

"They just said to tell you that they are watching."

"Watching? How horrifying!"

I slammed the door and went back into the cabin looking mortified.

"What's wrong, Grandma?" asked the topless Whitney.

"Some perverts are watching us and they sent a man to tell us about it."

"That's disgusting," said Whitney. "I hope they like the show. Fucking perverts."

"Why don't we give them their money's worth?" Victor suggested. "If a pair of pervs want to watch, let's give them something to watch."

Victor walked over to a big window at the front end of the cabin. He looked out through the window and then pulled down his boxers. The old gray mare probably wasn't what it used to be, but he wasn't afraid to shake it around.

"Come and get it, piggy!" he screeched while looking at Whitney.

Grandpa joined in, squealing and oinking he grabbed Whitney's ass and pushed her towards Victor. "Soooooo... EEEEEEEEEE! Soooooooooo... EEEEEEEEEE!"

"Okay, stop!" Whitney yelled out, starting to cry. "You guys are getting out of control."

"What did you think you were coming up here for, crochet and mountain air?" Grandpa laughed.

"No, look, I'm just saying this is getting out of hand," she said.

"Let's be gentlemen, fellas, this young lady has asked you to stop..."

"Cut the fucking act, dude. We know you're a fucking guy," Victor snapped at me. "Did you really think anyone was going to buy this whole 'Grandma' act?"

"I bought it," Grandpa told his friend, looking suddenly confused. "Are you sure Grandma is a guy?"

"Yes, you fucking idiot, Grandma is a guy. I could tell that the moment he walked in here."

"How about me?" Whitney asked.

"We'll get to you," Victor sneered. "Coming up here all dressed like that and you think we're going to have tea and cribbage? Fucking unbelievable."

Whitney grabbed the top of her shorts and pulled them down. She had a very small, but quite complete, set of two testicles and one penis.

"What the fuck?"

I was completely confused. How could a guy have great legs like Whitney had? It was inconceivable and I found myself questioning my entire identity and missing most of what happened over the next few minutes.

Then I interrupted whatever everyone was saying and blurted out, "I think you have great legs, Whitney, and I don't care if you're a guy."

"I'm transitioning," she told me defiantly. "Don't call me a guy."

"If my girlfriend breaks up with me to marry Dirk, will you let me jerk off on your legs?" I asked.

"Yeah, let me give you my number when all this is over with," Whitney said and then pushed a button on her late 1970s style digital watch and said into it, "Okay, we're good to go. Bring it."

I suddenly put two and two together and realized Whitney was the undercover informant working for the drug cops. She was bringing in her people to arrest Victor. I couldn't have that. I couldn't disappoint Detective Haggerty.

I was still wired so I put my head down the front of my blouse and yelled out, "Okay, we're good to go. Bring it."

The door burst open and Detective Haggerty and Detective Rosewood came through the door with guns drawn. The park ranger fellow was with them, except he was now wearing a police uniform.

"Where did you guys come from?" I asked. "I've been trying to confirm that you've been keeping up with us all day."

"Police! Get down on the floor, hands behind your head!" Detective Haggerty called out, looking back and forth between Victor and Grandpa. Victor reached behind a curtain and I could see he had grabbed a gun. I shrieked like a woman and threw myself on the ground crying.

"Back up, bitch," Victor told her.

"Fuck you, asshole," Detective Haggerty growled and fired her gun, hitting him in the arm and forcing him to drop the gun. "Get on the floor, you fucking piece of shit!"

Grandpa tried to run, but Detective Rosewood hit him in the gut and he dropped down on the floor. Rosewood put handcuffs on Grandpa while Haggerty and Victor Dibella continued their standoff. Victor wouldn't get on the floor, even with a bullet in his arm, and Detective Haggerty was getting very annoyed.

Seeing Detective Haggerty in action got me very aroused. She was so strong and confident and when she made up her mind about something, she got it done. She was forceful, reasonably attractive, and had very nice feet that liked to make me happy.

"Get down on the floor, shithead, or the next bullet goes in your fucking head!" Detective Haggerty yelled. "On the floor, moron!"

I looked over at where Detective Haggerty was standing and saw her feet in her open toed high heels. With her standing in the position she went into when she was shooting bad people, her foot looked strong, dominant, and deadly sexy. I also liked that she had painted her nails fire engine red. I was left licking my chops as I stared at her feet and then tried to determine what her legs looked like based on the way the tight jeans she was wearing fit.

Once I heard her say, "Good decision, Dibella," followed by, "Cuff him, Rosewood," I knew it was over. I lunged forward and began kissing Detective Haggerty's exposed toes, the top of her foot, and covered her high heels with affectionate kisses.

"Wow," said Detective Haggerty as she looked down at me. "I guess when you're hooked, you're hooked. Eh, foot boy."

"Now I know why you call him that," laughed Rosewood.

Detective Haggerty kicked off her shoe and let me go to town on her entire foot. I ran my tongue up and down the full length of the top of her foot with long, wide strokes, like I was painting a house and enjoying it much more than I would if I were actually painting a house.

"I love your feet," I cried. "I love your feet, Detective Haggerty."

"Please, foot boy, call me Laura."

As Detective Rosewood and the police officer who pretended to be a park ranger led Victor Dibella and Richie Marcello out of the cabin in handcuffs, I stopped licking Laura's feet long enough to look up at her and tell her, "That park ranger cop guy isn't on the up and up. He came up here a little while ago and told me that there were two people in a van who were watching us."

"He was talking about me and Rosewood, you fucking idiot," she sighed. "Okay, leave my foot alone for a second. I have to get those two guys back to the city. We'll hook up later."

Detective Haggerty, or Laura as she wanted me to call her, shocked me by pulling me up off the ground with her superior detective strength, tore off my old lady wig, and then gave me a big kiss, right on the lips. My body temperature was increased by two degrees when she kissed me, and did not return to its normal temperature for almost a half hour after that.

Two men with long hair and sunglasses showed up at the door after Victor and Grandpa were led away. I was about to ask them if they were the perverts we'd been told were watching us when Whitney walked towards them, shaking her head.

"You guys are like twenty minutes too late," she told them. "Haggerty and that detective with the cheap-ass suit just walked off with both of them."

"I told you we parked way too far away," one of the longhaired cops said to the other before they began to jostle in the doorway. After a little shoving match, they fell onto the ground outside the cabin and started rolling down the hill together, like a scene from a cartoon, surrounded by a cloud of dust with arms and legs flying in every direction.

"So, you are really into feet, eh, Grandma?" asked Whitney.

"I'm not really an old lady," I told her.

"Yeah, we know that," she said. "You look like you're kind of cute underneath all those layers of wool and whatever. Would you like to get naked and go swimming in the lake with me?"

"I have a very wimpy build," I told her as she started to unbutton my clothes.

"I'm not perfect either," Whitney said. "How about a swim?"

"I have a girlfriend," I told her.

"Detective Haggerty?"

"No, my girlfriend's name is Erica. She's the most beautiful woman in the world and she has the hottest legs and feet in the universe."

"You seemed awful familiar with Haggerty."

"I sometimes cheat on my girlfriend with her," I explained. "Erica doesn't mind because Detective Haggerty makes me do it and I'm not strong enough to resist because she's a police detective with special powers."

"She's not jealous?" Whitney asked after stripping me down to the giant, 1950s era brassiere I was wearing under my old lady blouse and jacket.

"They don't like each other and some day they will probably have a catfight if what I saw earlier this morning is any indication."

"Wow, that's kind of hot," Whitney told me as she removed my bra and let the five balled up socks I'd forced into each cup fall onto the floor. "Women fight over you, eh? How often does that happen?"

"This is the first time."

"You're not so wimpy looking," Whitney said as she moved her hands over my bare, pasty torso. "You're just kind of boyish."

"I'm not all there, and sometimes my porch light doesn't go on, but I'm not sure if you are a girl or a boy. I don't want to say the wrong thing, but I am attracted to you and I'm afraid to look at your feet because you have a penis."

"I'm wearing sneakers," she told me. "What does my penis have to do with my feet?"

"Well, I don't understand. Are they boy feet or girl feet? I like girl feet, but I don't like boy feet."

"What if you look at them and decide?"

"I have to know first," I insisted.

"Why?"

"Because I only like girl feet, that's why!"

Whitney kicked off her shoes and took my head in her hands. "I'm a girl who was born with a penis and now I'm becoming the woman I was always meant to be."

"Girls can be born with penises?"

"Yes, they can," she told me. "Look at my feet."

Whitney was about 5'8" tall with long legs and a thin body. She had curves but barely anything in the way of breasts. She wasn't pale, but had light skin, long blonde hair, and a round face. She didn't look like a boy to me, and certainly not like a man, but although she seemed very feminine I had a great deal of trouble reconciling that with the fact that she had man parts between her legs.

Still, I couldn't resist the temptation to look at her feet, especially after she asked me to.

One look at her feet told me everything I needed to know. This was no boy. This was a girl. This was a woman. Her feet were so beautiful I struggled to find the words needed to properly describe them. It was hard to know where to start.

She had these fat little toes that stretched just long enough to make them the most delicious looking toes I'd ever seen. She had high arches like Erica, but the lines and wrinkles that ran through them looked as if they'd been engineered for maximum artistic value. She had strong heels, slightly callused but in a very subtle way, unlike the severe calluses that marked Detective Haggerty's heel. Her ankles were prominent and subdued at the same time, and I found myself staring, unable to look away.

"Your feet are gorgeous," I told her after taking a deep breath. "I want to devour them."

She put her sneakers back on and took me by the hand, leading me to the front window of the cabin and pointing out the dense forest that lead through the hills and up into the mountains.

"That view is gorgeous," she told me. "My feet are just feet."

"I accept that this view is gorgeous," I told her very seriously, "but your feet are also gorgeous."

"And the rest of me?"

"You have very beautiful legs, almost too beautiful for this world," I told her. "The penis and whatnot is a bit distracting, but I understand now that you were born with them as some kind of punishment for something you did in a previous life."

"You really think that's what happened?" she asked.

"You weren't supposed to be a boy when you were born. This is obvious to me now."

"No one has ever said that to me before," Whitney told me. "You're the first."

"I say a lot of different things," I told her. "You probably shouldn't put too much faith in my words. I'm not all there."

Whitney ran her fingers through my hair and smiled at me. "I think you're wonderful just the way you are."

"Does that mean you want me to worship your feet and do everything you say?"

Whitney laughed. "No, silly, that means I like you. I think you are a really great guy and I also think you sell yourself short. You're too hard on yourself. You say you're not all there, but you are all there. I can see it in your eyes."

"Maybe I'm all there somewhere in there, but I'm not all there on the outside where it counts."

"It is what is inside that counts, silly boy," she smiled. "You act the way you do, like you don't comprehend what's going on, because you don't want people to see the real you. Maybe you are afraid if you show them who you really are they'll hate you or hurt you, but you like to be hurt, you like to be humiliated, and you like it when women make you crawl around on the floor kissing their feet. You get great pleasure from that. I could see it when Detective Haggerty was in here."

"I like to worship women's feet very much."

"That isn't anything to be ashamed of. I think it's great. What is this girlfriend of yours like? I think you said her name is Erica?"

"Yes, Erica is my girlfriend. I had to take her away from Mike because he didn't respect her. I love her very much. My heart belongs to her along with most, but preferably all, of my erections."

"I can see you're hard right now. You're pitching a tent."

"I'm hard constantly," I told her. "I have to masturbate at least ten times a day or I suffer mental damage from buildup of semen."

"That's an urban myth," Whitney told me. "Semen doesn't back up into your brain."

"But if I don't jerk off ten or more times a day I start to act crazy."

"Would you like to explore the woods with me today?" Whitney asked.

"I don't want to get lost."

"I'll make sure you know where you are and how to get back," smiled Whitney. "And if you want, we could spend the night together here. It isn't like Victor and Grandpa are going to come back."

"I couldn't figure out, you know, back at Highlights, why you were so willing to go along with Grandpa's desire to have sex with you. I thought maybe you got off on having old men grope you and put their dicks inside you. That kind of grossed me out, but at the same time turned me on, but that might have been on account of my constant boner. The thing is, I was concerned about you. I didn't want you to be taken advantage of by that old man."

"The reason I played along with Grandpa was so we could find Victor and arrest him. Well, to be honest, before Victor got arrested and escaped I was working with the police to get information from him about people in the mob. I've been working Victor for months, had him wrapped around my finger, and I never did anything more than blow him a few times out in the alley."

"But you were forced to do that, right? Sort of like I was forced to lick Detective Haggerty's feet?"

"It was so I could keep him on the hook and convince him I wasn't a cop. I'm not a cop, I'm a confidential informant, so I have some leeway as far as things like sucking cock, taking drugs, getting handed fists full of hundred dollars bills, and stuff like that."

"I see."

Whitney stripped me naked, down to my granny panties, even taking the time to unhook my garter belts and pull off my thick, gray stockings.

"I didn't bring a change of clothes," I told her solemnly. "I needed to maintain my cover story."

Whitney went over to the overnight bag she'd brought and took out a t-shirt and a pair of bright pink short shorts. She handed them to me and said, "You can wear these."

"Those are girl clothes."

"You've been dressed like an old lady all morning. I don't think this would be too big of a stretch for you," Whitney said. "Just think of it like you got your youth back."

"My youth?"

"You were an old lady and then a miracle happened and you were young again."

"That sounds very exciting," I told her as I accepted the clothes and looked for somewhere to change. "It also allows me to maintain my secret identity on a whole different level."

"You can change in the bathroom," Whitney said and pointed to the hallway behind the kitchen.

After I changed in the bathroom, I looked in the mirror and tried to decide if I looked like I could pass for a younger woman. I had fooled everyone with my old lady disguise, but this was a bit more difficult to pull off. I was very skinny, pasty, and had zero muscle definition. I didn't find my legs attractive, as they were thin and boney. My knobby knees were wider than my thighs and my calves were like bones with skin wrapped tightly around them. No one would ever be fooled by this disguise.




Absolute Devotion Ch. 12



I found an old pair of boots in the corner of the bathroom. They fit me fairly well, despite being a little bit loose. I put them on, tied the laces, and went back out to the main room of the cabin.

"You look nice," Whitney told me. "How about we go for a walk in the woods?"

After we had walked into the woods and spent twenty minutes looking at trees, birds, and other wonders of the forest world, Whitney took my hand in hers. We walked hand in hand along the trails that meandered here and there. I smiled.

"I'd like to be your girlfriend," Whitney told me. "I wouldn't make you do anything, and I wouldn't boss you around. We could just be together, have fun, and maybe even fall in love."

"That sounds weird," I told her.

"I'm going to complete my transition in a few months," she told me. "After the surgery maybe you'll think it isn't so weird."

"I'm not worried about that," I told her. "I'm really wimpy and you're very beautiful and if you don't tell me what to do and take control I won't know what to do."

There was a group of people up ahead in a clearing. We slowed down our walk so we could see what was going on. There was a man with a video camera filming a woman in a torn dress who was running very slowly away from a man in a bear costume. We decided to go in a different direction.

We stopped under a tree, where Whitney gently took my right hand, the one in the cast, and while continuing to hold my left hand as she had been doing for a half an hour, she drew me closer. I was so close to her very pretty face that I got nervous and my erection popped out of my shorts.

"Kiss me," she said.

"You mean kiss your feet?"

"No, silly, kiss ME."

It was a very exciting proposition, so I leaned in awkwardly, my lips on a collision course with hers, and I quickly kissed her and tried to pull away. As I did that, she let go of my hand, reached up behind my head and pulled my head towards her.

She kissed me and I saw stars. She was kissing me on the mouth the way I kissed Erica and Detective Haggerty's feet. Her mouth opened, her tongue slid into my mouth, and I couldn't resist. I kissed her back, the same way, and then I realized we were making out like I'd seen people do in commercials for condoms.

Whitney fell back onto the soft grass of the forest and pulled me down on top of her. She continued to kiss me and, as she traced kisses up the side of my face, she whispered into my ear, "Take me any way you want, do anything you want, but do it because you want to do it, not because I'm making you."

"Is that an order?" I asked after catching my breath.

"No, that was consent," she said.

"So, like, um, I can do anything I want?"

"Well, don't beat my head in with a rock or anything like that, but yeah. Anything you want."

"Do women like that?" I asked as I struggled with confusion over what was happening.

"What do you mean?"

"Do women like when a man does anything he wants after getting consent to do so?" I asked.

"Well, there are boundaries and limits and so forth. Not everything enjoys the same kind of things and what one woman might enjoy, another woman might not like at all."

"So, do you negotiate for different kinds of consent throughout the period of time you are intimate with a woman? That is to say, if I were to kiss your foot after receiving consent, do I need to get consent to start kissing my way along your juicy, but firm and strong calf muscle, for example?"

"Um, that would be kind of, well, the kissing part sounds hot, but the constantly asking for permission is definitely a buzz kill."

"So, is there some kind of umbrella consent like what you said that you can get a woman to sign off on before doing things with her?"

"You could say something like, 'If I do anything that bothers you, tell me and I'll stop' and that way once you have the umbrella consent you can put the responsibility for boundaries and limits in her court. You could set a safe word, something you say when you want someone to stop, especially if you are role playing..."

"I see," I said. "This is very interesting to me."

"Will you get back down here and kiss me?" Whitney said peevishly.

"Wait a minute," I said and sat up suddenly. "I just thought of something."

"What?" Whitney asked as she started gently stroking my erection with her fingernails.

"That feels very, very good," I told her. "You're making me lose my train of thought."

"I imagine that is why I'm doing it."

"I need to get back to my apartment and stop Erica from making a terrible mistake. I've been an idiot and I need to... well, you know how in comic books there are people and cars that have a kind of switch they switch to go from their normal power to their super power?"

"I guess..."

"I have one of those switches and I need to switch it on. I'm going to need my superpowers for what I'm about to do."

"Does it involve making love to me?" Whitney asked.

"We can do that first, if you like, but then I have to get home and save my relationship with Erica."

"It isn't like stopping at the grocery store for milk and bread, you know. You actually need to make your partner feel wanted and desired. Saying you'll bang me and then go home to save your relationship with your girlfriend is, um, crass."

Painfully balancing myself on my broken wrist by planting my cast against the hard ground, I took Whitney's right ankle in my left hand and began lifting her leg up in the air. My hand slid down her calf and took hold of the back of her knee as I pointed her foot towards the heavens and ripped off her sneaker.

My hand took hold of Whitney's ankle and I guided her foot towards my mouth. I ran my tongue along the edge of her heel, tasted the soft wrinkled flesh of her arch, nibbled at the ball of her foot, and then started tasting her delicious toes.

As I made love to her right foot with my mouth, Whitney reached out with her left hand, sliding it under my shorts and gently taking hold of my erection.

She stroked it and told me, "Damn, this cock needs to get sucked so badly it is practically screaming for it."

"There is some truth in what you say," I told her between long licks along each of her toes.

I started crying as Whitney pulled her leg and foot away from me. I had only just begun to enjoy her foot and planned to get brave and start kissing and licking up and down her long legs once I got around to it. She was changing her position, turning on her side, and I didn't know what was happening. She came around with her face getting much closer to me and she kept reaching for and taking hold of my rock hard erection.

"There is a lot of truth in what I say," Whitney laughed before leaning in towards me and kissing the head of my penis while stroking it with her left hand.

"Wow!" I yelled out as she slid the head of my cock between her lips and took it into my mouth. "This is not what usually happens!"

She was somehow able to slide the entire four inches of my hard cock into her mouth. I was amazed, but then remembered how I'd heard that some people had "deep throats." She was apparently deep throating me and it was incredible.

"Such a big, hard, beautiful cock," she moaned after letting my cock slip out of her mouth. She kept slowly stroking it with her hand as she very seductively asked, "How did that feel?"

"Gosh darned wonderful is how it felt! Can you please keep doing that?"

She smiled broadly and brought my cock to her lips again. Her long tongue traced along the edge of my cock head, causing me to yell out "Saints be praised!" She then slid the full length of my cock into her mouth again.

It took mere seconds after that for my body to seize up and convulse. I screamed out "Yes!" as Whitney held my cock in her mouth and I filled her mouth with my semen.

Watching my cum drip out of the corners of her mouth while she smiled at me, I fell back onto the ground and told her, "That was so much better than jacking off."

Whitney sucked my cock four times before we went back to the cabin. She was amazed at how my erection kept returning, in full force, after each and every orgasm, but after providing me with four blowjobs I could tell her mouth was getting very tired and sore.

We walked back to the cabin, holding hands and laughing. At times we skipped along like children and at one point I decided to ask her if I could jack off on her beautiful, long legs.

"Of course you can," she giggled and sat down on a large rock. "I'm open to whatever you want to do."

"Can I have another blowjob?" I asked sheepishly.

"Maybe later," she said. "You are insatiable."

"I was involved in a very questionable medical procedure," I explained before pulling out my erection. "Would you let me suck on your toes while I stroke my boner?"

"Whatever you like, honey," she said and stretched her leg out so her foot was in front of my face.

I tore off her sneaker and dropped it on the ground. Taking her beautiful foot in my mouth, I lavished it with wet kisses and then ran my tongue hungrily over her fat toes.

Then I realized I still had the cast on my right hand and was unable to masturbate while holding onto her foot. This realization made me start bawling my eyes out.

"Honey, relax," Whitney said compassionately. "Why don't you sit down and I'd stand in front of you and pose any way you like and you can stroke yourself with your left hand."

"Any way I want?"

"Within reason," she giggled. "I'm not a contortionist or anything like that!"

"Lie on your back and take your other sneaker off," I told her. "Then stretch your legs up in the air in front of my face and put your feet on my shoulders."

"I think I can manage that," Whitney said with a smile as she did exactly what I asked her to do.

Just as I was about to start playing with myself, a familiar voice yelled out, "What the fuck is going on out here?"

The voice belonged to Detective Haggerty or Laura as she wanted me to call her. She was storming through the woods in her open-toed heels and glaring at both me and Whitney as she approached with a full head of steam.

"Excuse me?" snarled Whitney as she lowered her legs, taking her feet off my shoulders, and then got back up to a standing position in order to better confront Detective Haggerty.

"What the fuck is this sick shit?" Laura demanded to know as she threw a cold stare at me. "Put that thing away, foot boy."

"But I was about to jack off," I pleaded.

"Not with this tranny you're not."

"That is a very derogatory term," Whitney told her. "I'm not some kind of freak."

"Just shut the fuck up and get away from my man," Detective Haggerty roared. "Stop fucking with my man's head you faggot."

"I don't have to put up with your abusive language," Whitney said, standing defiantly and not backing down in the face of Laura's intimidating presence and manner. "Keith isn't your 'man' and even if he was, he deserves better."

As Whitney and Laura fought over me, I could not help stroking my erection. It was a very exciting scene and it seemed to be getting sexier with each verbal exchange between them.

"I bet you don't even shave your legs, you butch dyke," Whitney told Laura.

"Oh, I shave my legs," Laura fired back. "And my cunt is a man eater."

"Yes, yes," I moaned as I stoked my cock. "More of this, yes, more of this."

"I bet they can't compare to my legs," Whitney told her. "You probably have man legs."

"At least I don't have man parts," spat Laura, "and I don't have to wear a training bra."

"Yes!" I yelled as I brought myself to orgasm. "That's the ticket!"

"Look at these legs," Whitney exclaimed. "These legs are fucking awesome."

"They are nice, I have to admit," snorted Laura as she unbuttoned her pants, "but you have no idea what you are talking about!"

Whitney took the challenge. "Come on, bitch, take off those man pants. Let's see what you've got!"

It was getting very exciting, so I wiped off the semen from my orgasm and began stroking myself again. Laura wasn't shy. She kicked off her heels and pulled off her pants defiantly. Once she had them off, she walked over towards Whitney with her strong, well-defined thighs and calves moving seductively with each step she took, calling on me to worship them.

"Which one of us has nicer legs, foot boy?"

I came again as soon as she finished asking the question and then looked at her with an expression that conveyed my confusion and inability to answer.

"Damn," said Whitney, sounding defeated, "you really do have great legs."

"Get on your knees, you fucking shemale," ordered Laura. "Show these legs some love."

"Yes ma'am," responded Whitney, who immediately kneeled before Laura.

I was baffled by this turn of events. Just as I thought they were going to start clawing at each other and hitting each other as nature intended them to do, everything changed.

"You will serve me and only me," Laura told Whitney. "You are my bitch."

"Yes, Detective Haggerty, I am your bitch. My safe word is beef stroganoff."

"Kiss my foot," Laura told her. "Tell me I'm beautiful."

"You're so beautiful," Whitney said with tears in her eyes. "I've been in love with you since you walked into that cabin, so strong and in command. I want you so badly I can't even..."

"Kiss my foot, tranny bitch."

Whitney began to kiss Detective Haggerty's beautiful bare foot. Once she did, I came again, and then wondered if maybe I should leave them alone to get to know each other better. I had important matters to attend to. Saving my relationship with Erica was my number one priority, but this was a very exciting development and while my heart told me to run to Erica, my erection told me to stay and watch.

"Run that tongue up my leg," Laura was telling Whitney, "nice and slow."

"Yes, my mistress."

I stood up and watched, with much excitement, as Whitney's willing and able tongue moved slowly and hungrily up the length of Detective Haggerty's shin, around her calf, over her knee, and then up her thigh.

"You better know how to eat pussy or I'm going to crush your head like a cantaloupe," Laura told her.

I wasn't even touching my hard cock, but it started shooting cum into the air regardless. I couldn't take much more of this, so I slowly crept away from the action and made my way back to the cabin. From there, I walked down to where Grandpa had parked his station wagon. I found the keys under the visor, started the car and began driving back to the apartment I shared with Erica.

I came six more times during the two hour drive back to the apartment. I kept seeing what had happened between Laura and Whitney in my mind and imagining what happened after I had snuck away. It was very exciting.

When I got to the apartment complex parking lot, I shut off the car engine and sat for a few moments to collect myself, wipe up the semen that was all over my clothes, my legs, and the dashboard of the car. Then I got out of the car, stood up tall and walked assertively towards my apartment.

"Erica? Are you home?" I called out after opening the door.

The living room was a mess. There were half-empty glasses of beer and other liquids surrounded by pizza boxes. Various clothing items were hanging off of furniture and littering the floor. It looked like there had been some kind of party but I didn't remember seeing anything on the schedule.

I wondered if Dirk, the asshole who was trying to steal my girl, was now trying to steal my apartment as well. I walked deeper into the apartment and saw that Erica's bedroom door was closed. There were sounds coming from inside the room, a variety of moans and sighs that got my blood up. This Dirk character was not going to come into my home, have sex with my woman, and then expect me to just look the other way. If he thought that, he had another think coming.

I knocked on the door to Erica's bedroom. I knocked firmly and loudly with no hint of timidity or reluctance whatsoever.

"I'm busy," Erica yelled hoarsely after almost a minute of silence coming from the room.

"I don't give a fuck," I said back. "Open this door or I'll open it. You are my girlfriend and I am not putting up with this shit any longer."

There was a long silence. I could hear whispering but couldn't make out what was being said. Then the doorknob turned and Erica pulled the door open. She stood in the doorway, the door only partially open, and looked at me. Her look was very similar to the one I had worn on my face when Whitney and Laura stopped fighting and started taking things in a different direction.

"What's gotten into you?" Erica asked. She was wearing a t-shirt and panties and nothing more. Her legs looked sweaty, as did the rest of her. I really wanted to lick all the sweat off her legs and it was starting to break my resolve to stand up to her.

"We need to have boundaries and limits in our relationship," I told her after forcing myself to look away from her gorgeous legs. "You cannot keep doing anything you want to do and hurt me in the process. That doesn't make for a healthy relationship. If you really love me, you'll stop getting off on hurting me and start getting off on making me happy. I don't care if you have sex with other men, but you are not allowed to have another boyfriend. You are going to tell Dirk that you are with me and he can't have you and he needs to get into a serious relationship with someone else and leave the love of my life alone."

"Whoa..."

"We are going to start making decisions on a mutual basis. We are going to start having consents and safe words and clear boundaries. We will set these boundaries and consents through mutual agreement. If we are going to be in this relationship together, then we are going to make decisions together. Otherwise I'm going to break the living shit out of my own heart and leave you."

Erica let the door open completely, revealing that Jimmy and Cat were in her bed, half naked and looking shocked by what was happening. She threw her arms around me, hugged me tightly, and then pulled away slightly so she could look into my eyes.

"I've been waiting so long for you to say all that," she said, smiling with tears in her eyes. "I love you, Keith. I love you so much that sometimes it feels like my heart is going to burst. Yes, my love, yes, we can do all these things. Tomorrow is a new day and when the sun comes up..."

I looked over at Jimmy and Cat and told them, "Look shitheads, I think that was your cue to get the fuck out of here."

THE END