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The Sock

By: Charmer4u



It was Sunday, not much to do, so I drove down to the surfer beach by the Navy base. As I drove into the parking lot of the beach, I could not help but see that the waves were big. 

Not being a surfer, but having lived near the beach most of my life, you could usually tell when "the Surf Was Up!" It would almost like a fish feeding frenzy. There would be lots of boys swarming like bees to get into the surf. All trying to quickly park, change out of their baggy clothes, get into those tight ass "body shape showing" wet suits, and go into the surf. Tight Asses and nice baskets galore! I loved to watch surfers, change!

It took me a while, but I snaked into the parking lot. I had to wait to get into an available parking spot because the three surfer boys next to me were so busy watching the surf they did not realize that they were blocking me from entering the spot. All three standing there with the double doors wide open doors on their red pickup. I wanted to park next to them because this spot seemed to be the only one left. Suddenly, they all realized at the same moment that someone was trying to park. They closed their doors and allowed me to slowly pull forward into the spot. 

As I got into the parking spot, I realized that this spot afforded a view of both the surf and boys changing (in my rearview mirror). I slunk down and proceed to watch, all this time my boner began to raise in my snug 501's. 

The bunch in back must have been around 18- 20, all of them wrestling to get into their tight wetsuits as fast as they can All while doing what I call the towel dance. You usually can tell how straight a boy is by how hard he tries not to let anyone see his naked butt as he pulls his black wet suit up past the towel he has wrapped around his waist. The magical moment comes when the towel gets caught under the thing and the guy just pulls it off exposing the crack of his ass.

Well, I got caught up in the thrill of my boy watching. The three parked next to me, seemed so preoccupied, with the surf and the trill of this day's fun yet to be had, that they were totally unaware of my watching. Each alone would qualify as beautiful male athletic specimen.

The first guy...the one that was too preoccupied watching the surf to let me into the parking space was a great example. He was tall about 5'11 around 19- 20, Rusty red copper hair, bronze color complexion, and about 170 lbs. He now jumped up and stood proudly in the center of the bed of what must have been his truck. Changing, and watching the surf. His one friend must have been about the same age, and height. He had brown hair with natural sun high lights. He stood next to my truck, unaware that I watched his every move. 

Then there was the charmer. His beauty was almost breath taking, a sun blonded boy, dark complexion, and probably chocolate brown eyes. He seemed a little younger. He looked like he must be the younger brother of the truck owner. He seemed to be taking his time getting his wet suit on. He was now off to the left behind my truck in direct alignment of my rearview mirror. If you were careful, you could see that he seemed to be watching the other two and checking them out. Not wanting to be caught in the act he would look at them with his mouth open, then quickly look away. He appeared to do this several times. 

The one in the bed of the truck took off his hooded sweatshirt to reveal a slim well developed muscular, reddish down coat of chest hair. His pink tits were encircled with deep brown areolas. It was a little chilly today and the cold must have made them stick out even more. They almost seemed pointed as I looked down at his baggy jeans slung below his plaid boxers, I could make out the Joe Boxer on the white band. I could also see that he had a nice bulge pushing out against the lower part of his leg beginning at the zipper. As if he sensed that I was looking, he quickly squeezed it. The thing must have had a mind of its own because it throbbed up against the zipper again as if in protest. His manhood must have been a good 8 inches long. Then he squeezed it hard again and pushed it down so that it sat nicely against his legs. One more push and it appeared to soften and disappear along his leg. As he slid his jeans down the thing popped up again. "Little horn dog" The guy next to me was changing faster, he already had his towel wrapped around him and kept his shirt on. One pull of his wet suit and up it went, the towel came off only after it was covering anything that I might be interested in. Damn!

My blond dream boy was now watching the guy in the bed of the truck who had been wrestling with his dick; He was facing forward, so the Blondie had a good view of his ass. His friend or brother was having difficulty with his towel; you could see that he did not have it wrapped tight enough. It came undone twice, once exposing his pubes, a nice hairy bush of wild bronze red hairs dense at the base and then trailing up to his navel and the other time the upper crack of his tight ass you could see the big meathead sticking up against the towel material. He quickly slid the legs of his wet suit over his feet and began to work into each leg. Whoosh! The suit was pulled up and the towel was off. You could still see the slab of his semi hard boy meat flattened against his belly creating a nice bulge in his wet suit. The front of his suit looked like the kid had slid one of those real large magic markers down there, except you could see the circumcised head.

Another truck pulled in into a newly emptied spot in front of me. Two fine specimens got out. Damn! They were fine! Both about 5'11 to six feet tall. One with jet-black shoulder length hair almost blue black and shinny. The other had brown hair as he turned my way you could see that he had cobalt blue eyes. Nevertheless, as they jumped out of their truck you could see that they were all ready dressed in their wet suits. Must have just come back from the snack shop, sporting 48 oz gulp cups of something.

I looked back at my threesome, they were all suited up, picked up boards and raced off as one to the surf. I noticed that the blond did not have a surfboard but some kind of short boogey board. God! He won't last long in that surf! I said to myself. It looked well used and waxed up like crazy. I watched as he trailed his two buddies. Nice little body, maybe 5'5- 5'6 about 150 lbs and nice tight little ass. Blond head bobbin right to left as he chatted with his friends all the way down to the surf. What a cutie!

I settled back and figured that, that was my eye candy for the day. I looked in the back of my jeep for the paper I had bought earlier that morning at Starbucks. Yep, there it was, way in the back behind the back seats of the jeep. Guess I would have to get out, open the rear door and get it. As I walked to the rear of my jeep, I noticed something white rolled up on the pavement

As I bent down for a better look, I noticed it was a white athletic sock. It was all rolled up like someone had quickly slipped it off fast and forgotten to pick it up. 

I reached over, picked it up, and unrolled it. It was still warm and a little moist from the foot it had recently been taken off. I lifted it to my nose and smelled it, yup! It was that smell of fresh boy sweat. Not offensive, or stinky, but sort of musky and slightly acidity. From where it was located, it must have come from Blondie!

Thinking of this, I immediately began to get a boner. Wow, I was holding the sock that cute little blond had just took off his sweaty little 18-year-old feet.

I quickly rolled the sock into the palm of my hand and got back into the front seat of my Jeep Cherokee. I wondered if anyone had noticed my picking it up! God, I would be mortified if someone had seen me smelling an 18-year's sock!

As I sat, I looked around; everyone seemed preoccupied with watching the surfers. Coast was clear!

I lifted the palm of my hand to my nose, I inhaled the smell of the sock again! Boing! My boner stiffened even harder against my jeans. Now the head was pressing tightly against the bottom button opening, straining to get out. 

I looked around again, coast was clear. I pulled the head of my dick out through the opening of my button fly. 

The pink head of my now throbbing dick was shinny and taunt, it was in the process of turning deep purple, as all that blood filling the shaft and growing to 

Someone walked in front of the jeep. To hide my naked dick, which was now sticking up fully erect from my jeans, I quickly placed the warm sock over the head of my dick.

Oh! that felt good! My dick kept getting ever harder and seemed to fill the sock as it lengthened. Oh! My god. The thought of my dick in the warm sock that blond boy had just took off his feet sent goose bumps up and down my arms.

I got an idea! I began to slowly play with the head of my dick through the rough material. It actually felt good. I found myself teasing the g spot just below the swollen head with the rough material of the sock. The feeling was making my mushroom head dance up and down within the sock by itself. The rough material was almost electric on the sensitive swollen head of my dick. My dick was now throbbing!

I spread my legs out pushing tightly against the floorboard. I imagined having sex with that blond boy. He was smiling and looking up at me as his mouth smothered my dick. I stretch out my legs further and pointed my toes. Oh, this was hot! He was bathing my dick with his boy spit! Slobbering all over the base and my balls and running his tongue up and down along the shaft and swirling it around the swollen head in and out of my piss slit.

All the time guys with wet suits are walking by.

I closed my eyes for a second and saw my dick bobbing in and out of his mouth of his angelic face surrounded by his almost white blond hair. 

Oops!

That did it...I found myself on the verge of cumming. My balls began to tingle, my dick head began to twitch, my dick lips open and closes in rapid succession and bam! 

My first hot load erupted out, searing the head of my dick, and into the warm sock. It blasted the toe so hard that some of it spattered through the material. My sperm was now leaking out of the toe of his sock. Auuuggg!  Another shot! Almost with the same force. Legs stiff, toes pointed! Splat! It hits the wet area of the sock and oozes out. I'm getting dizzy as three more shots blast out of my super sensitive dick. By now the cum has saturated the already damp sock and is dripping out of the sock and back down the shaft to my pubes.

I quickly came to my senses. What the fuck am I doing??? This is a super public place! I quickly looked down at my spewed mess and wiped the head of my dripping dick with the sock. Pulled it back and slipped my dick back safely into my jeans. 

I looked around quickly, hum! No one noticed! How Cool! Now what do I do with sock? 

Another brilliant idea crossed my mind.

I get out of the car, rolled the sock back up like I found it, and placed it in about the same spot.

No sooner did I get back into the car, when who do I see coming back from the beach to their truck? But, blond boy!

He looked exhausted! Hair all over his head, and wetter then wet. 

He climbed up on the bed of the truck and reached into the back window. Fishing for his clothes. He seemed that he found all of them. Except? One!

You could see that he was still looking out of the corner of his eye. but he wasn't real worried that he wouldn't find it. He began peeling off his wet suit. Nice hairless chest. Well developed and the beginnings of some fine muscles. Nipples were still small, but pointed due to the irritation of the wet suit. He continued to peel the suit off, exposing a more of a nice flat belly and navel. Nice little dark blond curly happy trail running down into his pubes. He was still peeling, oops! More pubic hair, then he must have realized that he needed his towel. He turned around looking for it. Yup! There it was on the bed of the truck. He had to bend over to reach for it .Wow! What a nice view of the top of his ass crack and a little further down nice blond peach fuzz reflected in the sun. Sure wouldn't kick him out of my bed if he climbed into during the middle of the night. He then quickly wrapped the towel around his waist. Getting ready to do the surfer towel dance. 

The thought about the sock and leaving before he found it crosses my mind, but I quickly think again. Maybe this could be fun.

He finished getting the wet suit off and sat down on the tailgate of the truck to finish getting his jeans on. He was totally out of sight until he finished getting the suit off; He apparently used the time to get on a baggy pair of cargo shorts. They flattered his slim body. Then suddenly he jumps off the back tailgate. I could see his full body clearly in my rearview mirror now.

He then walked over to the back of my jeep before he spotted it. A smile fell across his tanned face. He beamed from ear to ear.

He had the other one on as he lifted it up ready to put it on till the other foot, he stopped. He felt it, as if to weigh it, thought something "queer" was a foot and quickly lifted it up to his nose. He must have really know what fresh sperm smelled like, because it didn't have to get too close to his nose before he pulled it away quickly. 

He looked around suspiciously; nope none of his friends were around. Might not be a joke! He seemed relived.

He lifted the sock again. This time more slowly and more deliberately, he was lifting it right up to his nose, as if too more enjoy the aroma. He took a deep breath of it, then another, then another. I could almost swear that his shorts appeared to become tented after the first whiff. He was growing a stiffy. He looked around again. He then looked up and stared straight at me. He lowered his head and stared into my eyes as I looked at him through my rearview mirror. 

My face froze and burned red with embarrassment. What was he going to do?

He sort of turned red too, as if caught doing something he shouldn't of. Then he lifted his head and smiled genuinely. As if in some secret recognition. He then did something strange, he lifted the sock up as if to say "Hey dude! This your Cum?"

All of this time his two other buddies were making their way back to the truck. I heard them calling to him. 'Hey! Davy! Did you see my last ride? It was gnarly! Dude! My now named blond boy smiled at me once again and quickly tucked the sock down into the waistband of his shorts. Davy's attention returned to his returning friends. He looked over his shoulder as I started the car.

Still beet red, I put the jeep in drive and began to drive out of that parking spot. A smile spread over my lips and I began to laugh out loud, thinking that my sperm was now dripping all over and mingling with blond Davy's dingle!

Maybe....the Beginning

The Sock Party



It was not the first time Peter had masturbated to his sister. While sorting the laundry, he came across her newest pair of angora socks, delicate pink with a mint colored cross-weave running around the top. 

They smelled like her—the faintest tang of earthy sweat—and made him instantly hard.

He wrapped a bra around his balls and slid one of the dainty socks over his engorged shaft, like a fuzzy condom. The wool felt so good on his flesh, heating it up like an oven, while the plush cups remained cool and soothing. Melanie was a voluptuous girl, always had been, and he was a big boy, at least in the downstairs department. He imagined the two of them rutting in unison, those juicy tits of hers wrapped around his cock, urging him toward orgasm. They were the only tits he knew of that could engulf his size. Or perhaps those cute little feet of hers stroking the length of him, clad in the very socks with which he now pleasured himself. That would truly be paradise.

"Come on, Pete," his vision of her moaned. "Cum for your little sister."

If pressed, Peter would deny his incestuous feelings. Really, when it came right down to it, he knew it was wrong and that Melanie was not meant to be an object of his desire. But with her close-cropped blonde hair, cute button nose, and dynamite body, resistance was futile.

In order to curb the guilt he felt, he often projected the faces of other girls onto her. But the fact remained: the very smell of Melanie aroused him. It didn't matter if he thought of her numerous friends, the hot girls from his classes, or even Mrs. Trayham from next door. It was always Melanie's raw scent that got him going, that seemingly paradoxical aroma of girlish innocence and vixen arousal.

His orgasm approached, starting in his thighs and clenching inward, hitting his balls and ricocheting upward through his dick. It took all his self-control to rip the sock off and pump the load into his hand, his breath coming fast, his moans barely suppressed. He sighed and leaned against the washing machine, spunk dribbling off his palm. He wiped off on one of his own crusty sport socks and zipped his pants.

"Another day in paradise," he said morosely.

As he turned toward the detergent, he caught the sound of a stair squeaking. He froze.

Was that Melanie? Had she heard him? He waited like a startled lizard.

With his long, lanky limbs, buzz cut, and unfinished tattoo sleeves, the comparison to a lizard was not far off. Peter looked like he could be wiry, scrappy, but he was really just thin. He spent his days playing on the computer and doing occasional web design jobs. About the only exercise he got was a short walk to the community college campus or to the store for an energy drink. If Melanie caught him jacking off with her underwear, she could easily beat the shit out of him.

Peter called out Melanie's name but received no response. He finished starting the laundry and went upstairs with a wary heart.

The next few hours passed uneventfully. Peter was tuned out, now engaged in a rousing match of Megaton Empire Online. He and his opponent were both at maximum tech level, their forces stuck in a constant struggle for the center of the map. However, victory was soon to be in Peter's grasp, for he had just finished constructing a Pyrite Class Dreadnought—that's when Melanie entered his room.

"Whatup, nerd?" She wrapped her arms around him from behind, placing his head firmly between her breasts. "Playing video games again?"

"Trying to," he said through clenched teeth, his cock already stirring to life.

He didn't have to look at Melanie to know that she was dressed in one of her thin tank tops, sans bra. Her flesh was still clammy from the outdoors, but it was soft and warming up quickly. 

She sighed, chest inflating around his ears. "You are never going to get laid if you do that all day. How old are you—twenty—and still a virgin?"

"Shut up!"

"Or what? You gonna teach me a lesson, little big bro?" Her arms ratcheted tighter, pushing his head deeper into her cleavage. "Look at you. You can't even take your baby sister."

He struggled against her, but only succeeded in jostling his erection, which sprouted to full mast unimpeded.

Melanie's breath caught in her throat. "Oh damn."

Peter froze, afraid and aroused at the same time.

To his surprise, she simply patted his shoulder affably. "Listen, the girls are coming over soon."

"The girls?"

"Yeah," her hand didn't leave his shoulder, "my friends. You know that word? Friend? Buddy? Chum? BFF?"

"I know what a friend is."

For some reason, he hadn't moved to cover himself yet—he stayed frozen, his aching erection on display through his basketball shorts. Part of him thought that maybe she would disregard it if he simply refused to acknowledge the damn thing. But part of him wanted her to look, to approve, to reach down and stroke him.

Peter finally turned around to face her.

She appraised him, her bangs obscuring one eye, tank top gaping open with creamy flesh. "Right, okay, so you know what a friend is. Well, I've got more than one of them and they're coming over for a sock party."

"Sock party?"

"Are you a fucking parrot? Yeah, we're going to test out our new socks."

Though he scoffed, the image of her cute little feet clad in a pair of warm, wooly socks made him throb. "How much 'testing' could a pair of socks possibly require? You put them on your feet and then you walk around in them. Done. They either fit or they don't."

Something about her smirk sent a shiver up his spine. "Why don't you join us and find out? If nothing else, you'll get to see some prime T&A. It is a slumber party, after all."

"When are they coming over?"

The doorbell rang.

"Now."

Five minutes later, Peter found himself surrounded by hot, nubile young women. Melanie was something of a magnet for other sex kittens, though he took solace in the fact that only four of them had shown up.

On one side were the twins, Mandy and Anna, recognizable by their striking copper hair, heavy eyelashes, and outrageous breasts. Physically, their breasts weren't actually that large, but when built on such tiny waists and ribcages, their c-cups became mythic. They had graceful, serpentine features and bright emerald eyes. They looked like a pair of temptresses out of legend. It was difficult to tell them apart, but Peter could usually identify them by dress. Usually. This evening, however, they had both donned matching white t-shirts (a size too small, of course) and red booty shorts. They were practically interchangeable.

On the opposite end of the room was Erin. Rail-thin, septum pierced, and hair colored like a peacock, she possessed an androgynous, retro 80's skater chic, which Melanie occasionally borrowed from. Peter found her a little confusing at times, especially when she wore polo shirts and baggy parachute pants, but this occasion saw her in nothing more than a sports bra and tiny black thong. Her nipples stood at rigid attention, her hips looking as ripe and feminine as ever. She threw glances at Peter and licked her lips.

Finally, there was Kat, whom Peter found to be the most mesmerizing out of Melanie's friends. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew she was not as profoundly attractive as Erin or the twins—and certainly not as delicious as Melanie herself. She was a nerd, a mousy haired geek girl, and it made Peter want her all the more. Supple in all dimensions, she was neither particularly curvy nor too thin. She had short, plump legs and a compact chest that rode high and proud. She wore her hair in a bun and regarded the world with an open, bespectacled kind of curiosity. Many was the night Peter had dreamed of fucking her face, that honest and slightly bored expression of hers overlooking him as his meat slid in and out of her lips.

Melanie, hips a-sway, stepped into the center of the room. Her gunmetal gray tank top and urban cameo panties left little to the imagination, not that Peter hadn't spied her naked multiple times. He knew that the lips of her pussy were heavy and sweet, that her nipples were the color of raspberries, that a little black mole decorated her left thigh. But his brain was not occupied by any of that. He was fixated on the armload of fuzzy socks that she carried.

"Alright, girls, here they are," said Melanie, dumping the socks on the floor. "Our weapons of choice."

"Weapons?" thought Peter. It was hardly the word he'd use—he supposed he might call them weapons of distraction or weapons of arousal.

They were ankle length socks, all made of angora wool, and colored in a wide variety of pastels, including baby blue, lilac, pink, and cream. Intermixed were pairs in more vibrant colors, notably violet and tangerine. His mind revolved through the colors, mentally placing them on Melanie's feet. As he stared longingly at the pile of socks, the girls gathered in a circle around him.

"Hey, Peter."

He looked up at each of them, aware of the individual hairs on the back of his neck, aware of how vulnerable he was sitting cross-legged on the floor.

"You asked how we were going to test out our socks, right? Well, this is how. We're going to test them out on you."

"Me?" he squeaked.

In answer, Melanie walked over to the pile and fished out one of the baby blue pairs and began slipping them on her feet. The color matched her eyes perfectly.

"You like socks. I know you do." She wiggled her toes and bounced on her heels. "It's why you're always doing the laundry. At first I thought you just wanted to sniff my underwear, but I saw the truth last week."

Peter shivered. He looked around at the other girls, but they were a wall of silent, hungry stares. Even Kat looked at him with intensity. Despite his nervousness, Peter could feel his lap tightening.

"Why don't you stand up and show us that massive dick of yours?"

If he'd been drinking anything, Peter would have done a spit-take.

Melanie walked over and pointed a foot at him, the toes forming a fuzzy little spear aimed directly at his crotch. "I know you're hung, big bro. I've seen you 'wearing' my socks. It's a snug fit."

His heart sank. "Sis, I can explain—"

"There's nothing to explain. Big brother's got a big erection for his tiny, barely-legal sister." She looked down at her breasts, straining the fabric of her tank top like a pair of casabas, and grinned. "Well, maybe not 'tiny.' Come on, help us out. I bet Kat would like to see it."

Kat nodded her head earnestly, eyes widening. "Oh yeah."

Peter gaped at her and his hands moved of their own accord. He lifted his hips and pushed his shorts and underwear down in one movement. His cock sprang into view, harder than it had ever been."

Melanie purred. "Don't forget the balls."

He was caught up short. "My balls?"

"Your balls, dummy. Pull your scrotum out from between your thighs. Give us the full package."

Though his brain was starting to pulse with warning signals, Peter spread his legs and hefted them up. He'd always found them kind of annoying, but they apparently pleased the girls, for all of them gave a collective gasp.

"Goddamn, boy," said Erin, now on her haunches, crouching before him. "I've seen a lot of plums, but these things are the size of actual fucking plums. How do you walk?"

"He doesn't," teased Mallory. "He sits at his computer all day and masturbates."

Peter's dick twitched and Erin gave a throaty laugh. "Big guy looks like he could blow at any minute."

"He better not," piped Mandy. "We can't have a sock party with a limp noodle."

"I've...already masturbated today," said Peter, "so, you know..."

"Oh, trust me, I know," said Melanie. "You looked so cute, pumping away with your bony arms, my sock covering your dick like a little beanie cap."

He blushed.

"But enough foreplay. Who wants to start?"

Erin was already running over to the pile of socks.

Trying not to sound too nervous, Peter asked, "What are you going to do?"

Erin chose the tangerine colored socks, which complemented her rainbow hair nicely. Without a word, she squatted over him and pressed her warm and slightly moist labia onto his dripping cock head. Her thong was hardly even a barrier. Peter moaned at the sudden friction and contact.

"You like that?" asked Erin in her naturally husky voice, undulating her hips a little.

Peter wanted to soak the whole image in—he couldn't believe this hot punk rocker was centimeters away from fucking him. Erin's reputation was extensive, but she wasn't easy. Her eyes were like obsidian arrowheads, her breasts at full tautness. But his eyes couldn't help but linger on her socked feet.

She caught his eye and laughed. "I almost forgot. This is supposed to be a sock party after all."

He didn't have time to comment. Erin straightened up and brought one heel down on his balls. All attempts at language died in Peter's throat. She jerked her foot as though twisting a knife and he cried out in pain. 

"Don't those socks just feel so good?" cooed Melanie. "They're all soft and warm and fresh from the dryer. And it's getting so cold outside—they're just perfect."

"They are," said Erin, raising her foot off his balls before bringing the other one down.

Peter groaned, his entire lower gut on fire. He could feel his balls swelling underneath her feet, becoming even larger. Even more vulnerable.

"Erin, please," he begged, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" she asked sweetly.

"For whatever it is I did," he said with a grimace, "to make you hit me."

"This is the sock party, dumbass. We're testing our socks out on your balls. That's how it works. Don't tell me you've never been to a sock party before."

He shook his head. Despite the pain, he couldn't deny how much he liked having her weight on him, particularly when clad in such lovely socks.

"Well, you're in for a treat, my friend." Erin finally relinquished his package and squatted again, bringing her wet pussy back over his throbbing crown. "Because by the time we're done with you, you're not going to have a drop of cum left."

The other girls exchanged a knowing glance. Peter felt his stomach flutter with excitement. He didn't like the thought of them continuing to brutalize his balls, but when was he going to get another chance like this again? Here he was, surrounded by hot girls—hot girls in cute, fuzzy socks no less. Even in his wildest dreams, he hadn't dared to imagine it. And now he was practically inside Erin. He looked up at Melanie and his heart skipped a beat at the thought of her participation.

"I like them big," muttered Erin as she gyrated, "but this may be a bit much for my little pussy. What do you think, Pete? Should I try it out?"

He nodded vigorously.

She chuckled. "Not so fast, hotshot. This thing could tear me apart." She got on her knees, perpendicular to his hips, and took his dick in hand. "Fucking look at it. Need to go slow with this."

He pumped his hips a little, feeling his foreskin slide with her fingers.

"Ha! You cheeky bastard." Her grip moved lower and formed a ring around his balls, jerking them away from his body in one solid mass.

He cried out in a strangled tone, which only motivated her to tug harder.

"Anyone up for a little kickball?" she asked, brandishing his nuts about.

Mandy stepped forward, a pair of creamy yellow socks already hugging her feet. "Keep him nice and tight." 

"Oh, don't worry." Erin winked at him. "You're not going anywhere, are you?"

Peter gulped.

"I hope not. Because then I couldn't do this." Erin flicked her tongue stud against the underside of his dick and engulfed the tip in a wet little kiss.

Peter threw his head back and moaned. His lower body was a battlefield, simultaneously tortured by Erin's painful grip and shaking with pleasure from her mouth. He could see her sock-clad feet tucked up underneath her, like she was kneeling in prayer, having a private audience with his dick.

Mandy took to the far side of the room. Erin scooted to the side a little more and held his balls out even further. Satisfied, Mandy broke into a run.

Peter watched in horror as her beautiful, cream-colored feet came flying at him in slow motion, punting his defenseless balls. He howled at the ceiling, aware of nothing except the anguish. He was sure his nuts had flown clean off.

"Don't scream so loud. You'll upset the neighbors."

Limbs quaking, Peter looked down at his crotch. Much as they hurt, he was gratified to see his balls intact, although now swollen and red as cherries. Erin's hand hadn't moved an inch, but she was now actively fellating him. Her mouth moved in confident strokes, each bob of her head rolling the pain back a little.

"Whatsamatter, Pete? Don't you like getting head?"

Erin popped off. "Yeah. Do you want me to stop?"

"No, no!" he said desperately. "But—"

"Good," said Mandy, returning to the far side of the room and squaring up, her breasts jiggling playfully. "Because that wasn't a clean hit. Gonna have to try it again."

"Better switch socks," said Anna.

"Good idea."

Erin hummed on his cock and pulled harder on his balls. Mandy donned another pair of cream colored socks, but these had ribbed trimming around the hem. She did a lunging squat, her toned thighs gleaming in the living room's incandescent light.

"Erin, give me some kind of signal."

At her request, Erin's teeth latched onto Peter's crown, immediately staunching the bubbly sensation and causing him to scream. Mandy pounded across the carpeted floor and put her foot squarely in the middle of Peter's outstretched manhood. The solid thwack filled his ears. His balls rattled around on the end of Erin's fist, swelling to obscene size.

"Good shot," cheered the girls.

Peter was utterly winded, delirious with pain.

"Okay, it's my turn," insisted Anna. 

A look of sibling rivalry passed between her and Mandy. "You think you can make a cleaner shot?"

"It's not a question of 'clean.' He's already the size of an actual kickball now. It's all about timing, connecting with them at the right moment and with the right leverage. It's the only way to really get the loft you want."

"Golf nerds," said Melanie with good-natured sarcasm. "Bro, how're you holding up?"

Peter wanted desperately to tell her that he'd had enough. He could feel his balls begging to retract back into his body. His abs were clenching so tight he felt ready to vomit. But then there was Erin's soft mouth, coaxing him back from the edge, drawing soft wet lips and an agile tongue across his most sensitive parts.

Anna was already lined up and ready to strike. Peter tried to catch her gaze, non-verbally entreat her to go easy on him, but her eyes were filled with determination. Her slim shoulders were piled with fiery locks, the shadows of her cleavage like the event horizon of a black hole. She hopped up and down, distracting him even more with the movements of her breasts.

"Fucking go!" heckled Mandy.

With lightning speed, Anna dashed across the room. There was a brief moment in which Peter could see her suspended in midair, the lilac wool of her socks a blur. Then she connected at maximum force, nearly taking Erin's hand out in the process. His balls ricocheted with a meaty, violent slap. The room broke into applause.

"You see, it's all in the timing," said Anna with catty delight.

Peter's mouth was a silent scream.

"Could someone else take cocksucking duty for now?" asked Erin. "My jaw's getting sore. Fucker's like the fat end of a coke bottle."

"I don't think that's necessary," said Melanie. "Not all of us have an oral fixation."

Erin stuck her tongue out flippantly and then winked at Peter. "Maybe you can fuck my face later." Peter could hardly breathe.

"I've got something better in mind," said Melanie, turning to the twins. "I'm thinking it's time for a hotdog with a little ground mustard. Unless Erin absolutely needs to suck my brother's cock..."




The Sock Party



"Ah, you rookie-ass bitches wouldn't know fun if it blew a load in your eye. I get to be grinder."

Melanie rolled her eyes.

The twins lined up on either side of Peter, their asses poised like luscious fruits waiting to drop off the tree. On three, they went into symmetrical squats and sandwiched his throbbing erection. With their backs arched, orange hair aglow, and the perfect slopes of their buttocks sliding around his meat, Peter thought he might cum right there.

It was like being dry-humped in stereo, fucked by perfect mirror images. The thin cotton of their booty shorts only added to the friction, causing him to squirm. His eyes drifted to their feet, the way their toes flexed within their socks and gripped at the carpet. It was easy to imagine the twins in coitus, bouncing up and down on some beefy jock, moaning in high-pitched tones, those same toes bunching up around a bedspread. Peter could feel his orgasm approach. This was it, all the abuse was about to pay off.

"Someone's getting close," said Anna, slightly out of breath.

Erin cackled. "Alright, time for the mustard."

Heaven was ripped out from under Peter. Though he couldn't see it, he knew Erin had stomped on his balls with all her might. The air was gone from his lungs. There was nothing left in his brain except a world of synesthesia, pain transmuted into colors. Distantly, he could discern her fuzzy heel grinding his balls into the carpet. He thought he tasted blood, or maybe it was his own sperm—political refugees from the battleground that had become his nuts.

"Ha ha, they're so big I almost slipped on them."

"Like a banana peel?"

Laughter filled his ears as pain engulfed his entire lower half.

But the twins were still there, sliding up and down his shaft, which had not drooped at all.

"Maybe a few more pumps of mustard," said Erin.

She stomped repeatedly, though lighter and faster, like she was pumping a brake pedal in the snow. Peter focused doggedly on the lilac wool of Anna's feet, picturing it wrapped around him, stroking him. Somewhere in the process, the incredible pain of Erin's stomping became more and more pleasurable.

"That's it, baby." Her eyes were fixed upon him, one finger inside her thong. "I'm just grinding up a pair of big, fat mustard seeds. I'm just fixing a snack."

Peter allowed the pain to steal over him. He was lost to Erin's foot as she softly, insistently pumped away at his balls.

"Phew," exclaimed Mandy, pausing. "That's a workout."

Melanie stood nearby, a visible wet spot in the front of her panties, her bountiful breasts studded with arousal—Peter couldn't believe how much his sister was enjoying this. How long had she been planning to do this to him?

"I think Kat deserves a turn," he suggested weakly.

The twins ceased moving and Erin gave him a quizzical look. "But what about my mustard?"

"I think you're breaking the dispenser." He forced a grin, hoping it would win them over.

He was answered by a chorus of sadistic smiles. "God, you're cute."

"I think he's right, though," said Melanie. "Kat? You still haven't tested out any socks."

A sprout of hope germinated in Peter's chest. Surely Kat wasn't as cruel as the others. Sweet, nerdy, introverted Kat—she wouldn't try to flatten his balls. It wasn't like her.

She approached, clad in bright pink socks and a thin nightshirt, see-through, especially with her red bra underneath. Through all the pain and humiliation, Peter hoped she liked what she saw. His cock stiffened with pride.

She looked him over as if examining a lab specimen.

"They're swollen like a pair of balloons," she said. "I wonder if you can bounce up and down on them."

"Only one way to find out," said Erin, running a socked toe across his length.

Peter's heart sank.

Air rushed out of his lungs as Kat put her weight on one testicle, then gingerly lowered a foot onto the other. She wiggled experimentally, causing him to gnash his teeth. His balls well and truly resembled balloons by now, swelling grossly as they inflated to support her weight.

"This is fun," said Kat with a little smile, successfully bouncing up and down on his tortured jewels. "Are you having fun?"

He gave her a pitiful look, his eyes begging her.

"Look at my breasts, Peter." Her coyness had blossomed into unabashed sadism. "Look how perky they are, how horny you're making me. Can you see them jiggling?"

He could. Despite the overwhelming agony, his cock was an iron rod, ribbed with swollen veins and purple in hue. Kat looked at it hungrily. His balls throbbed beneath her heels.

"Anyone else want a turn on this air castle?"

The other girls looked eager, but it was Melanie who stepped up first. "Let me. I've wanted to do this since I was 12 years old."

Peter didn't have time to process that. Kat had no sooner disembarked from his testicles, giving him a brief respite from the pressure, when Melanie took her place. And unlike Kat, who had been somewhat gentle, Melanie jumped right on.

"Oh, these are awesome," his sister whooped.

"Mel," Peter moaned in strangled agony. "Mel, please..."

She bounced vigorously, each iteration like a fuzzy, woolen punch to the core of his being. Every fiber was twisted up, thrashing, trying to escape the punishment.

"I love how big they are—they're like overripe plums, just waiting to split open." She squatted, all her weight still firmly on his balls, and wrapped her hands around his erection for balance. "However, it's your banana that's truly impressive. I think it's the biggest I've ever seen. Someone needs to take that virginity of yours, big brother, and it's going to be me."

Peter gasped with relief as she stepped off him. He could feel how swollen he was, how turgid and sensitive his balls had become. He glanced between his legs, saw that they were the color of eggplants, and almost as large.

His vision went dark as two feet slid over his head and covered his eyes, tickling him with woolen fibers, inundating him with the smell of fabric softener and feminine heat.

"No peeking," said either Mandy or Anna.

Peter found this development far more terrifying than anything else that'd occurred previously. The loss of sight magnified his other senses, and in particular, his feelings of helplessness and the pain that saturated every nerve. He expected something horrible. He waited for another jab, another flying kick, or another heavy body to stand on his most sensitive parts. What he got instead was a burst of profound warmth.

For a moment, he thought Erin had resumed blowing him, causing his cock to flex with eagerness and pleasure. This was met by a sharp, feminine inhalation, clearly Melanie's voice. His hips were being pressed into the floor. That's when Peter realized that he was inside his sister—he and Melanie were having sex.

"Mel," he groaned.

"Shh, I know." He could feel her straining around him, gently lowering herself down.

"How's your first cock treating you?" asked Erin in a saccharine whisper.

First? Peter bucked, but his arms and head were pinned under nubile girl flesh.

"That's right, bro. You're my first." He could feel her shiver as she plunged deeper. "And goddamn but it is fantastic."

Socked feet caressed his chest. His sister moaned and began to move more vigorously, tight as a fist. The power and intensity of it was incredible, more than he'd ever imagined. He was dying to see her on top. Her hands were on his stomach, her body a hot, heavy weight. She gyrated to a frenzied tempo, driving little moans and squeaks out of herself.

"Ohmygod, I'm cumming," she shouted.

Peter smiled like an idiot—he couldn't believe he was making his sister cum so easily. Meanwhile his own orgasm was welling up, causing his dick to spasm. The feet withdrew from his eyes, giving him an eyeful of Melanie's o-face. She looked to be in pain, screaming silently, but her thighs were locked tight around him, as though she never wanted to let him go. Her breasts were magnificent, pushed together by her arms and spilling out of her tank top.

"I'm going to cum too," he said hoarsely.

"Oh no you aren't," replied Kat in a deadpan voice.

A sharp and immediate pain stripped him of all pleasure. Peter nearly choked on his tongue, such was the swift intensity of the feeling.

"You can't see it, but Kat's twisting your balls," reported Erin in a gleeful tone. "She's just going for it."

"Can't have him spoiling the party," she said, giving his balls another quarter turn

Melanie shuddered as her orgasm finally began to subside. "Oh fuck. Oh, Pete. Ohmygod."

She and Peter clung to one another as Kat continued applying the brakes to his orgasm. Melanie stroked his hair and planted soft little kisses on his mouth. He was in too much pain to reciprocate. He could feel his tubes squealing for mercy.

"I can feel your spasms inside of me." Melanie nipped his earlobe. "We can't untwist them just yet. Not until the little gentleman calms down."

"I can't believe how much control you can exert through these things," said Kat, eyes wide behind her glasses. "I'll have to try this out on my brother."

"Darren?"

"No, not Darren. I'm talking about Robbie. The little shit keeps walking in on me when I'm taking a shower. Definitely on purpose."

"Well, that's an easy fix," said Melanie, wriggling her hips and causing Peter to moan. "Just grab a handful of his M&M's."

Kat snorted. "There's no way he's big enough to warrant a 'handful' of anything. Speaking of which, I think Peter's finally ready for round two."

Peter sighed with relief as his nuts were untwisted. Grudgingly, Melanie slid off him. He could see her labia: puffy and wet, like a slit peach.

Erin jaunted over, divested of her thong and sports bra, butt naked except for her bright orange socks. "My turn."

Mandy and Anna made disgruntled noises, to which Erin flipped them double birds. "Don't pout. He's got a mouth, you know."

"Two at once?" said Anna incredulously.

Erin winked at her. "I've got a mouth too, sugar tits."

She grimaced, arms crossing over her breasts. "I don't really swing that way."

"Well I'm not opposed to it," announced Mandy, pulling her shirt up. "Show me what you got."

Her sister blanched. "Really?"

Mandy shrugged, unclasping her bra and letting her tits roll into view. "Erin's cute. Why not see what Pete can do for you."

Anna bit her lip in a way that caused Peter's dick to flex.

Erin smirked and began working the head of his cock around her entrance. "I just can't get over this thing. I've seen a lot of quality dick—there's a reason I hang with the punk crowd—but this is fucking absurd."

Mandy kneeled by Erin, cupping her own perfect breasts and pushing their cherry-tipped nipples out. Taking the invitation, Erin's lips closed around one, eliciting groans of pleasure from them both. Simultaneously, Erin lowered herself onto Peter's shaft and her groan became a sharp, muffled gasp. The same wonderful heat enveloped him and he did his best to enjoy it without thinking about Kat's twisting fingers.

Anna stood over him, a questing look on her. "You ever eat a girl out?"

Peter shook his head, his concentration split between the copper-haired goddess and the slender she-devil currently riding him.

"You're about to learn."

She slid her booty shorts off. A landing strip of fiery curls guided him to her enshrouded lips—the aroma coming off her mound was heady and sweet. Without ceremony, she sat down on his face, plunging him into darkness.

"Wiggle your tongue," she commanded.

Peter moaned as Erin picked up speed, clenching tight around him.

"Kat, get his attention."

Excruciating pain returned, wrenching Peter away from Erin's ministrations. Desperate, Peter began tonguing blindly, replicating what he'd seen in numerous porn videos.

"That's a good start," said Anna, not sounding much impressed. "Find my clit—it's a firm little button, just under the hood. Press the button."

Peter had no idea what she was talking about. It was difficult to breathe and his head was being pulled in so many different directions. Erin gave a loud, open-mouthed yelp, now riding him full force. Kat had not stopped squeezing his balls. He continued to probe until he found something that resembled her description. He worked up a mouth full of saliva and sucked on the tight little bud.

The transformation was instantaneous. Anna bucked as if electrocuted and ground down on his mouth, demanding more. He obeyed, suckling and flicking his tongue like he was working away at a tiny ice cream cone.

Anna cooed. "Good boy."

Peter didn't know how long their little orgy continued for, but at some point, Erin latched onto his hips—much the way Melanie had—and began shouting in orgasm. Anna joined her a few seconds later, both of them grinding and pounding and screaming away on top of him. He wiggled his hips, working hard to secure his own orgasm before Kat could rip it away from him. He was so close.

"Coming through!"

Erin's heat was ripped from him, along with Anna's. He was re-exposed to the world, bright and naked and cold. For a moment, his vision was filled with the fluorescent living room lights. Pounding feet brought his focus to Kat, who was charging full force at his open legs.

He watched in slow motion as she went flying through the air and landed with both feet on his crotch. The pain was transcendental, unreasonable, all encompassing. Dimly, he registered the look of complete satisfaction on her face, but his head was primarily occupied by the orgasm that was once again denied him. His paralyzed diaphragm unbuckled, finally sucking in air, though it only launched him into a coughing fit. He began to tear up.

"Don't cry, Peter." She stepped off his violated manhood and allowed him to curl into a fetal ball. "It's unbecoming."

He clenched his teeth, biting back a retort.

Melanie came over and cradled his head in her lap. "I bet you're still hard."

"I can't help it," he moaned.

"Of course not. But, Petey, the party's not over. Kat and Mandy and Anna still haven't sampled your wonderful cock yet. You don't want to disappoint them, do you?"

"I need to cum." He looked at her pleadingly. "It hurts so bad."

She sniffed. "Well that's a selfish attitude. You've got a room full of beautiful girls fawning over your dick—more gorgeous pussy than some men get in a lifetime—and all you can think about is shooting your load as quickly as possible."

He gaped at her. "I can get it up again. I promise. I'll last even longer the second time."

Melanie shook her head and buried his face in her cleavage. "No dice, bro."

He breathed in her sultry skin, one hand tentatively cupping her breast.

"See?" she said with a boisterous laugh. "You're fine. You just need some boobs. 30ccs of boobies, stat! Come on, big bro, don't be shy. Play with your little sister's titties. You've been aching for them since freshman year."

He sampled her flesh, grunting and slurping at the delicious, pliant breasts that enveloped him.

"You know how many guys would kill to do this? You are one lucky man."

He nodded, finding one of her nipples and slipping it between his teeth.

"Mmm, Pete. That feels so nice."

A woolen foot began prying at his legs. Nervously, but obediently, Peter spread them, eyes magnetically drawn to the honeybee yellow socks now gracing Mandy's feet. Her hands were already on him, tugging his shaft and pumping his balls with gentle but insistent squeezes. "No more distractions. I want you inside me. Now."

Melanie giggled and untangled herself from Peter's roving lips, tucking each heavy breast back into the confines of her tank top. "I'll twist. You hump."

Kat took Melanie's place at Peter's head, this time offering up her own dripping snatch. "Annie seemed to enjoy herself," she said, her collected empiricism now replaced by eager embarrassment.

Peter allowed her thighs to settle on either side of his head and dove into her heat, savoring, giving himself fully to the moment. Kat had a spicier taste than Anna, more acidic and heady, but he loved it. And judging by the squeaky gasps escaping her, so did Kat. All reservations fell away as she curled her fingers into his hair.

Time dilated. Peter serviced the rotating cadre of women, each one taking their turn on his cock and face. The need to cum had grown into a raw, driving hunger that burned his brain like a fever. Stockholm Syndrome took its toll and Peter found himself uttering words like, "You're going to make me cum if you don't stop." Invariably, someone was on hand to twist his balls until the orgasm faded.

At one point, Melanie called for a break and the girls took turns stroking him with their feet.

"I know how much you like socks," she said, her nipples once again in his mouth. "You just have to be a good boy and not cum for us until we tell you can."

Mandy wore pastel green socks, little baubles on the hem, and was busy tickling his balls with the tips of her toes. "How many kicks do you think you could take, Peter?"

His eyes went wide.

She giggled. "You've held out pretty well—longest lasting sock party I've ever been to. I bet you could take a hundred kicks. Full on."

"Well don't try that just yet," said Kat, showing new bravado since taking a ride on Peter's dick—her cheeks were still flushed from the experience. "I want to bounce on his balls some more."

"And I still want him to fuck my face," interrupted Erin. "Can't break his balls just yet."

"Tell y'all what," said Melanie, "everyone gets five minutes to do whatever they want to Peter. After that, we'll ask him what he wants. We'll go in ascending order of intensity. Fair?"

"I just want to fuck him some more," said Anna, eyes aglow with lust, "so I guess that puts me at the front of the line."

The others conceded this. Anna gave his enormous sack a playful kick, causing him to wince, then crawled onto his lap. Arms twined around his neck, she carefully inserted him. His hands instinctively went to her hips and the two of them commenced their dance. She held him close, biting his shoulder, and pounded away. Her hips undulated, the powerful muscles in her ass rolling with each thrust. Her breasts were like silken pillows on his chest, her hair a curtain of floral scents. One of his hands clasped her foot, thrilled at the touch of soft angora wool. He thrust harder, trying to create more friction. Finally, she threw back her head and came with a whimper, her juices flooding out. She wiggled gently and allowed him to pump some more, caress her feet, but Melanie called out time.

"Thanks for the ride," she said, giving his balls a forceful punch that caused him to double over.

Erin was next and she wasted no time in palpating his jewels, crunching the thick and swollen gems between her fingers like they were putty. "How ya feeling, stud?"

Peter moaned pathetically as she continued to knead him.

"Oh, you love it," she said with a wink. "And you'll love this even more."

She made a show of licking him, from base to tip. Caught between excitement and the agony that burned throughout his body, Peter gave a feral, frustrated groan.

"Now that I like." She guided one of his hands to her colorful hair and closed his fingers around her scalp. "Fuck my face, Pete. Shove your dick down my throat."

She nearly gagged when he obliged her, ramming in as much of his impressive length as her esophagus would allow. She sputtered and choked, but every time he tried to slow down, she only moaned in protest and forced him deeper. He was hesitant to push her head down, but the more he did so, the more her noises were intermingled with cries of pleasure. She came up for air several times, but he never left the confines of her mouth. She gave him a darling look, mouth distended by the fullness of his shaft. Peter always imagined Kat in this position, but he couldn't see her enjoying it—Erin, on the other hand, was practically cumming just from bobbing on him.




The Sock Party



"That's time," said Melanie suddenly, looking envious.

Erin rolled her eyes and gave one of his testicles a long, hard pinch, holding the pressure until he begged her to stop. "Good luck, boyo."

"Erin," he said desperately, wanting her with every fiber of his being, "please. It hurts so much. Just get me off. I don't care if it's a handjob or even just a toe, but please—"

"Shh shh shh," she gave him a radiant smile. "Believe me, I would. I would swallow every drop and then do it again just to make sure you were empty. But that wouldn't be fair to everyone else. Just hold out for another ten minutes, okay?"

Peter detected a note of melancholy in her voice, but Kat was upon him before he could say anything more. She inspected him, hefting his thoroughly bruised scrotum and feeling for the solid, meaty orbs at the center.

"They can certainly take a lot of abuse, can't they?" she said loudly, perhaps jealous of Erin as well—Peter didn't like the look in her eyes. "Maybe yours were made to be abused."

He shook his head in disagreement.

She arched an eyebrow at his erection. "He seems to have a different opinion."

"Just get it over with," said Peter, sick of being teased.

Kat's eyes narrowed. With spiteful force, she mounted his balls, stomping her feet as though trying to crush grapes. His yowling filled the living room as her trampling grew more forceful.

"It must suck having such large balls," she said over the din of his anguished cries. "Look at how weak and vulnerable they are. There's no reason for them to exist. I'd be doing you a favor if I just squashed them right now."

Her assault seemed to last an eternity, but when time was finally called, Kat finished by standing tiptoed on his nuts, arms stretched to the ceiling.

"Forget yoga mats—I should practice on a pair of these from now on."

Melanie laughed. "I take it Robbie's in for a surprise?"

"Oh is he ever."

Kat left him a ragdoll, unable to do much more than moan.

For Mandy's turn, Peter was brought to his feet, forcibly held up by Anna and Melanie. He remained limp in their grasp, his stomach clenching painfully in anticipation.

"Someone stroke that cock," said Mandy. "Don't want him getting soft."

Erin obliged, giving him a furtive wink and tugging lovingly at his foreskin. He looked at her with a plea in his eyes and she mouthed the words, "Five minutes."

"Fifty with the left and fifty with the right," said Mandy, taking a fighting stance.

"Legs or testicles?"

"Yes."

She balled her fists and went to work. The first few kicks were light, though nonetheless painful—his balls were fire engine red and hypersensitive. He grunted with each strike, trying not to think about how many kicks a hundred really was. Around thirty, they became slower and more forceful, jerking his pelvis up and causing him to cry out. Her breathing got heavier.

"Winded?" asked Anna. "You need to get back to the gym."

"Shut up. When's the last time you did fifty kicks in a row?" Her ire manifested into a vicious snap kick that made Peter crumple. "Now the left leg."

The girls redoubled their efforts to hold him up—Erin stroking all the harder. Mandy's five minutes were nearly up and she put on a burst of furious speed, delivering rapid fire kicks with unerring precision. 

"Time!" called Melanie just as Mandy reached the end.

No longer supported, Peter collapsed to the floor, his chest heaving.

"Well, that's all she wrote," said Melanie. "How are you feeling, bro? Never mind. I think I can guess. You've been such a good sport—you've made this the best sock party ever. Now it's your turn. What can a room full of gorgeous babes do for you?"

Peter was delirious with nausea. He didn't know if he could—or even wanted to cum anymore. But he said it anyway.

"Let me cum. I'm begging you."

Erin fidgeted, but Melanie made a move first. "Wait a second, bro. I didn't have a turn yet."

His mouth fell open. "Sis—"

"No, don't pout. It's only fair, isn't it?"

Peter thought he might cry.

"Fortunately," his sister quickly amended, "we both want the same thing. But I think there's going to be a bit of an issue with that."

"Issue?" Peter looked at her in confounded horror. "What issue?"

"Um, have you seen your cajones lately? They are in bad shape."

He looked down at his crotch, discovering that his genitals had turned a sickening blue color, like two gigantic bruises.

She hissed in agreement. "You're probably going to need the ER."

"No!"

"I'm afraid so. You're going to need a doctor and you won't get to cum for a long time."

"Oh my god!"

"Calm down. There is one alternative."

"What is it? Tell me!"

She sucked in a dramatic breath. "Let's break your balls and force the cum right out."

Peter was dumbfounded.

"It's just like fixing a clogged hose. One good running leap should do it—they're already so damaged, it won't matter if I deflate them. Might even make it easier if you don't have all that juice sloshing around. What do you say, big bro? Should I break your nuts open? Or should we just take you to the hospital right now?"

His jaw chattered. "Mel—"

"We don't have a lot of time. You gotta pick one. Do you want to cum or not?"

Peter was adrift. He couldn't think. He could barely breathe. The pain in his muscles was unreasonable and there wasn't room in his brain for any word except "cum." He looked for Erin's gaze, but she was deadpan, or maybe he was too delirious to see straight. His cock throbbed and a spasm rocked his whole body, head to toe.

"Pete?"

"I need to cum," he whispered.

Melanie's smile was brighter than the rising sun. "I was hoping you'd say that."

He lay prone, spread eagled, while she took to the other side of the room. She flashed him a thumb's up and broke into a dead sprint.

At the last possible moment, her socked feet left the ground, heels high, destined for his exposed crotch like a falling arrow.

"Best. Sock Party. Ever!"

The pressure was like an explosion in his gut. White hot pain overthrew his every mortal sense, but was followed swiftly by a transcendent pleasure that was more radical, more complete than anything he'd ever experienced. Despite all the pain, his lizard brain had been craving this since the beginning.

Gargantuan fonts of cum erupted from his dick, coating his gleeful sister's feet. Furious jerks of his shaft accompanied each blast, spewing more semen than he even knew he could produce. He was bellowing with something beyond pain or pleasure. An unmistakable orgasm was plastered all over Melanie's face, with the others looking equally pleased, even Erin. Peter continued to jizz onto Melanie's woolen feet until, as promised, he didn't have a drop of cum left.

*** EPILOGUE:

"So, when do you get off?" Lothario asked. "I'm thinking we could go for a cocktail. You provide the tail and I'll provide the cock. Na'mean?"

"I don't really drink," said Erin, and immediately took her break.

Erin didn't know his real name—Trent or Bob or something—but "Lothario" came into the glass shop at least twice a week to pester her. In a college town filled with young babes, she was apparently the only one he wanted, or maybe just the only one who would stand still long enough.

"Meet you around back for a smoke?" he called.

She didn't answer him.

The attention might have been endearing if he wasn't such a fucking prick. He had the body of a gym rat and the wardrobe of Vanilla Ice, though his drinking habits were becoming apparent around the midriff. He would meander through the store, banter about the stock, and take every available opportunity to talk about her hair, tongue ring, or tits. The worst of it was that he bought just enough stuff that he couldn't be accused of loitering. Not that her boss exactly gave a shit about the harassment.

"The customer is always right," Albert would say in an uncompromising and snotty tone. "Besides, I can't exactly blame him—just take it as a compliment."

Erin stood in the back room for as long as possible, texting Melanie and nibbling on a cereal bar.

"We gonna get shitty tonight?" Melanie asked. "Drinky drinky?"

"Me no want drinky," texted Erin. "Head hurt. Ovaries hurt. Want ice cream."

"Bitch, you are a subpar human being."

"Please, Bitch is my mother's name. Friends call me Pussy Master."

"OH IF ONLY. Btw you might get a surprise tonight."

"What's that?"

";) gotta be patient. And you gotta come out tonight."

The door chime rang and Erin begrudgingly went back to the front. It turned out to just be Lothario, who was now opening and closing the door like a hyperactive child.

"Don't worry, it's just me," he said. "I missed you."

"Oh goodie," said Erin, hoping against hope that he would notice the sarcasm. "I've asked you so many times before not to—"

"You never answered me about that drink. I'm serious. When you get off?"

"The hours are posted on the door," she said coldly. "But I plan on staying overnight."

He chortled as though it were a joke. "Haha, what? You gotta do inventory or something?"

"Nope. I'm actually a robot. Once we close, my manager just wheels me away on a palletjack and plugs me in for the night. Also, I don't have genitals. Did I not mention that?"

His shit eating grin didn't slip. "Girl, you crazy but you sexy. I like that."

Erin was fed up. "Is there something you want to buy? Or are you just going to be weird and offensive all day? Because I got shit to do."

He shook his head, a thick coat of smarm plastered over his face. "Alright, alright, I can dig it."

"Good." 

He bellied up to the counter. "I don't normally do this, but I'll make an exception for you."

She arched an eyebrow at him, ready to ask what the fuck he was talking about when he suddenly dropped trou. He wasn't wearing underpants and his penis flopped out onto the glass like a raw sausage.

"Try it before you buy it, babe." He cupped his balls and placed them on the counter as well. "I know what you're going to ask and the answer is nine and half at full mast. Six inches around. It's not John Holmes, but if you've had bigger, I'll eat my hat."

Erin sighed, not having moved an inch since he exposed himself. She clicked her fingers and studied his junk with pursed lips.

"Don't be shy," he said, glancing at the front door. "We can go in the back if you—"

"No, out here is fine," she said, abruptly grabbing hold of his meat. "The security cameras aren't working anyway."

He hissed contentedly. "You got some strong fingers."

"Mmhmm," she said, pinching and pulling his foreskin. "But, as it turns out, I have had bigger."

"Bullshit."

"Oh it's true," she worked the tip of his shaft, causing him to shiver and lean forward. "His cock is the stuff of legends. He might well be John Holmes incarnate."

"Is he your boyfriend?"

"Don't be jealous." She took each of his balls in hand and stroked the tender orbs. "You've still got some impressive meat on you, boy."

"I knew you were a freak," he said, face flushed with triumph. "The moment I saw you, I just knew you were nasty."

"Definitely. I am a fucking freaky bitch and I'm about to show you something." Erin made sure she had a firm grip on his jewels before pinching her fingers together and driving her nails deep into his scrotum.

Air rushed from Lothario's lungs. He didn't even scream, just choked on his own panic and surprise. Erin eased off and reapplied pressure in rapid succession. She imagined squeezing two clown horns and nearly giggled. Lothario wasn't even attempting to break away—his feet seemed rooted, hands frozen halfway to action. His mouth was open in a silent scream.

"Oh my gosh," said Erin, continuing to rhythmically mash his balls, "you look like a kicked puppy. Jesus, if I didn't know you, I'd almost feel bad."

A whimper escaped him. He began to reach for her hands and she twisted his manhood in response.

"I wouldn't do that. You've given me way too much trouble, so you're going to be a good little boy while I have some fun."

"I'm sorry," he wheezed. "Oh god."

"My name is Erin."

"Crazy...bitch..."

"That's what I tried to tell you." She hummed lightly and gave his sack another twist. "Why don't you come over here for a second?"

She walked him down the counter to the register, his balls trailing across the glass with a loud squeak. He hobbled and winced and begged her to let him go.

"Don't move an inch," she said, taking one hand off him. "I'm just getting something."

He tried to wriggle out and her remaining hand pinched so hard that he finally screamed.

"I warned you." She opened the register and picked out a roll of quarters. "I need your help opening these."

She swung the roll of silver down, creating a testicular pancake. His eyes bulged like a toad's. He had no air with which to make any more noise.

"Damn. The wrapper's still intact." She swung the quarters again, burying them in his swollen balls and pressing hard. The roll see-sawed over the tight little egg of his testicle. "One more ought to do it."

He shook his head wildly from side to side. In a matter of moments, he'd been reduced to a feral animal, utterly consumed with the pain in his balls, the fear that she was about to crush them.

"I know this will reflect poorly on other women, but really, we deserve better than this," she said, quarters poised above her head. "We deserve better than you. Show some respect."

She slammed the roll down and the glass countertop shook. The quarters finally broke free and were sent ricocheting off across the shop. Lothario crashed to the floor, balls finally slipping from her grasp. Erin came out from behind the counter and knelt at his side.

"Let's see what we got." She roughly shoved her hand between his thighs and felt him up, eliciting moans of despair. "Hmm. Both still there. Tough little fuckers, aren't they?"

Lothario was a babbling mess. She helped him to his feet and scooped up his testicles, shoving the swollen orbs back into his jeans. She left his dick flopping out like a soggy burrito and tugged the zipper up to the hilt.

"Aww, it's so cute looking."

"I'll tell your manager," he said, finally regaining some of his senses. "I'll tell the police."

"Tell them what? That you pulled your dick out in front of a strange woman and she reacted in self-defense? Or are you actually going to give them a play-by-play recap of how I broke a roll of quarters on your nuts? That makes you sound like a crazy person."

"I'm gonna get you for this, bitch. One way or another."

Calmly, Erin yanked the zipper up into his exposed manhood, catching it along the scrotum. Lothario uttered a high pitched yelp and clutched her shoulders. His eyes were straining in their sockets, his teeth clenched together with enamel-cracking intensity.

"That looks like it stings," said Erin, pulling him to the door by the head of his trapped penis. "You should probably go home and take care of that."

"Oh fuck. Oh Jesus."

"I told you, my name is Erin. Now get out."

Lothario obliged, hands shielding his junk. Through the blinds, Erin watched him hobble down the street in humiliation. People were stopping to watch him go, some taking cellphone pictures.

Just then, her manager returned from lunch. "Hey, Erin. Did I miss anything?"

She shook her head and smiled sweetly. "Not at all."

***

The parking lot was refreshingly dark and empty—another day gone by. Erin meandered to her car, debating on how to tell Melanie that she was feeling anti-social when she noticed someone leaning against her car. Her first reaction was to suspect Lothario. Had he liberated his junk and come back to rape her? Erin's hand went for her knife.

"Oh shit," said the figure, his voice instantly melting her antagonism. "Erin, please don't stab me."

"Peter?" She broke into a wide smile and jogged in for a closer look.

The skinny dork had his arms crossed, brows furrowed like a tough guy. His tattoos were looking good, the sleeve now filled in and vibrantly colored—a mishmash of animal imagery and fantastical combat.

Erin hugged him without warning, crushing her chest into his, arms twined around his neck. "Pete! Ohmygod, how are you?"

He hugged her back, running his palms up and down her back with tenderness. "I'm, uh, I'm good. How are you doing?"

She raked him with her eyes. "Better now that you're here. Assholes at work and all that. Let's talk in the car." Peter crammed his lanky frame into her tiny ass Geo metro, head brushing against the roof. Erin put the radio on low and turned her glittering gaze to him. She couldn't help but sneak a glance at his crotch, bulging with its legendary contents.

"I can tell you want to ask, so go ahead and ask," he said.

Erin liked the cool assertiveness in his voice. "Well, you're not speaking in a falsetto, so I assume the babymakers are still there?"

"It doesn't work like that. But yeah, they got me into surgery just in time and reconnected all the plumbing. Turns out this town has the highest rate of testicular trauma per capita in the nation, so they were prepared."

She giggled. "We've got the most skillful ball doctors around?"

"So it would seem," he said with a grin.

The warmth of that smile struck Erin in the heart, causing her mood to slip into serious mode. "Are you...mad for what we did?"

Peter looked pensive. "I was at first. But every time I thought of the intensity of that moment, that last orgasm, I was transported back into the ecstasy of it. It was the most incredible thing I've ever experienced. Yeah, there was a lot of pain at the ER, but I was lucky. When they told me they were able to fix the ruptures and that I would heal, I felt such an overwhelming relief. Now, everything seems different."

Erin bit her lip. "Like what?"

"My confidence is different. It's higher. A lot of guys think that losing their balls would be the worst thing to ever happen. But if the worst thing that could happen turned out to be one of the most astounding things...it really changes your perception of what's possible."

She ran a hand along his shoulder. "Can I see them?"

He gave her a wry look. "I don't think so."

"What? I'm not going to hurt them, Pete."

"Sure you are, and I'm going to let you, but I want it on my terms."

"Now that's not something I expected to hear."

He took her hand into his palms and looked her square in the eyes. "Erin, will you go out with me?"

"Oh my." Her fingers meshed with his. "I thought you had a thing for Kat."

"Maybe I have a thing for lots of girls."

"You definitely have a thing for your sister," she teased. "Not that I blame you. Girl is built like a brick house. How many times have you guys fucked since you got out of the hospital?"

"None. I want you, Erin. I want to give my balls to you."

This made her blush. "That's definitely not something I expected to hear."

"What's your answer?"

"Of course we can go out, dumbass." She leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips. "I don't let just anyone gag me with their cock, you know."

"Oh yeah? You seem the promiscuous type."

She ran her thumb along his jaw. "I am. And that's thing one you'll need to learn about me real quick. Sometimes I get bored and my boredom makes me do impulsive things."

"Like bust balls?"

"Especially that." Her hand sank to his crotch. "Fortunately for you, sweetnuts, I think you'll have an easy time keeping my attention."

Their lips met and they were lost to one another. He wasn't an expert kisser, but it hardly surprised her. She would just have to train him.

"Unzip," she said breathlessly.

"The boys are still tender," he admitted.

"As long as they can blow a load in my mouth, I don't care."

Working together, his fly was yanked down and his package freed. Erin whistled at his size, which was even larger than she remembered. She almost snorted at the memory of Lothario's sausage and ran a hand up and down Peter, loving the smoothness and the heat of his cock. She bent forward and tugged out his jewels, each one as large and full as billiard balls.




The Socratic Method



A lot of my stories start with a general idea and build from there. Share the Road, for example, started with the time I came across a runner with a sprained ankle sprawled by the side of the road and drove her home. I never saw her again, but the story was based on a lot of "what-ifs".

The other day I was kidding a female prosecutor I know about her habit of dating cops. It's something that happens constantly- mingle attractive, bright young women and habitually assertive men and nature will take its course. I decided to use that as the basis of a story, and to flip the genders around just to see what would happen. This is the result. I took some liberties with the legal issues to keep the plot working. Just be aware that the scenario wouldn't play out exactly this way in real life.

Amanda Johnson's professional life is based largely on Officer Tina Griswold, who I knew slightly from work. Tina barely reached five feet tall on a good day but earned the respect of her colleagues by demonstrating that she could outwork and outfight any of them. As one of them said, "the fastest way to break up a bar fight was to toss Tina into the middle of it." I know nothing of Tina Griswold's personal life other than that she was happily married with two children in November 2009 when she and three of her colleagues on the Lakewood, Washington Police Department were murdered by a maniac. I hope I did justice to her memory.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Being a deputy district attorney in a small county means that you never know what might come across your desk. Murder one day, speeding the next, and a little of everything in between. One afternoon I was in my office trying to figure out which end of a Honda was which from the pictures taken after a drunk ran it into a tree at sixty miles per hour when the phone rang.

"Mr. Elliot, this is Officer Johnson with Fish & Wildlife. You have a few minutes?"

The voice was female, clipped, and highly professional, but sounded pleasant under it.

"Sure, come on up."

A few minutes later a pet carrier entered my office, followed by a slim figure in a militaristic green and tan uniform.

"Mr. Elliot? Officer Johnson."

"Call me Mike, please."

I took the small hand she extended, surprised by the strength of the grip. I resisted the temptation to get into a contest.

"Thanks."

"What do you have here?"

"The victim."

I looked into the wire door of the cage and found two large eyes staring back at me. The head swiveled left and right without the body moving at all, and looked at me again. I'm no expert on owl facial expressions, if they have any, but this one didn't look impressed by me.

"An owl? What's he the victim of?"

"A Great Horned Owl. Someone found him on a logging road with his wing destroyed by a bullet. He's going to live, but his flying days are over. He's headed for a zoo."

I looked again and saw that one wing was missing. There was a lot of anger in her voice.

"This is the third one this year. When I catch the son of a bitch who's doing it, I want him to spend at least as much time in captivity as this poor guy's going to have to."

I glanced at her. From the look in her eyes, I almost felt sorry for the guy if she did catch him. The owl looked back at me, made a few strange noises, and threw up. Sorry, buddy, didn't know I was that distasteful.

"Hey, officer, I think he's sick!"

"Amanda, please."

She looked into the carrier.

"Naw, that's just an owl pellet. He's fine."

"Owl pellet?"

"They can't digest the hard parts of their prey, so they spit them back up. Completely routine. It's a good way to check on what they've been eating."

"Well, he's a handsome guy, but why's he in my office?"

"I just wanted to show you what's going on. I don't want this jerk getting off on a technicality."

"You know who's doing it?"

"Not yet, but I'm working on it. The word's out to everyone who goes out in the woods that we really want this guy."

"Keep me posted on what's happening, and feel free to call me any time if I can help. We can't afford to lose any more of this species."

"Will do."

"Why don't you fill me in from the beginning? Want a cup of coffee?"

"Sure."

She took a chair across from my desk, unbending just a little. Her chestnut hair was in a tight bun at the back of her head, and it's hard to judge a woman's figure when she's wearing body armor under her shirt, but I got the impression that she could be an attractive woman if she wanted to be. She sipped her coffee.

"Mmm, that's good. I've been keeping some strange hours on this case."

She rolled her neck around, loosening her muscles. A neck rub crossed my mind, but something told me I'd have her Beretta up my nose if I tried.

"I bring my own rather than destroy my stomach with County issue coffee. So when did this start?"

"The first one was found dead about two months ago, the second a month after that. This one was a little luckier- must have jumped or something just as the jerk fired."

"Why would someone be doing this?"

"Years ago there was a lot of resentment about logging jobs being lost because of Endangered Species rules, but that's history now. Some sickos just think it's fun to shoot at anything they see. We think there's a black market developing in owl feathers too."

"Not eagles?"

"Everyone knows that, unless you're Native, getting caught with any part of an eagle will get you an automatic ten years in Federal prison. We think some poachers are selling owl parts as a lower risk alternative for fake Native regalia to sell to collectors."

"Fake regalia?"

"You wouldn't believe what a feathered headdress, say, will sell for in Tokyo. The Natives don't like it- they think it's making a joke of their culture, and a lot of that stuff has religious significance- but they don't have a lot of leverage over non-Natives. I know for a fact that one so-called artist who calls himself Standing Bear was born Thad Koskiusko in Pittsburgh."

"Sounds like you don't like it either."

"My grandmother was Lakota. I'm not Native enough to be enrolled, but I don't appreciate the disrespect. Natives have it hard enough in this world without phonies trying to hijack their culture."

"Well, anyway, keep me posted on this. I'd rather head off any problems than try to fix them later."

"Will do. Thanks. Come on, Socrates."

She picked up the crate.

"Socrates? That's his name?"

"Too obvious? I got tired of just calling him 'That owl'".

"Well, it fits, I guess. See ya later, Socrates."

Socrates gave me another revolted look before she carried him out my door. Guess I couldn't blame him given the way humans had been treating him recently. I put the whole thing out of my mind and went back to the vehicular assault case I had been working on. The driver's equally drunk passenger was out of the hospital, but it looked like he was going to walk with a limp for the rest of his life. I wasn't letting the driver get away with that even if his buddy shared a little of the blame.

My phone rang a couple weeks later.

"Mr. Elliot? Officer Johnson here. I've got a lead on who's doing that owl shooting, and I'm doing a stakeout in a couple nights. Want to come along?"

For some reason her warm brown eyes popped into my head.

"I try not to be a witness in a case I might have to prosecute, but I'll make an exception here. When do you want to do this?"

"Can you do it Thursday night about 6:30?"

"Sure. I'm working until at least 5:00. Want to get some dinner before we go?"

Her voice wasn't particularly friendly.

"I'll pick up some hamburgers on the way to pick you up. Meet you at the courthouse?"

"OK, then."

I wasn't exactly asking her on a date, but she obviously wasn't going to get anywhere close to socializing with me. Too bad, but there are plenty of women out there. At least that's what I told myself, trying not to count up the months since I last went on an actual date.

Amanda met me at the courthouse precisely on time.

"I stopped at Mountain Burger on the way over. That OK?"

The local burger stand made food far better than any McDonald's.

"Great. What do I owe you?"

"Six bucks."

I handed it over.

"What's the plan tonight?"

"The local hunters like to put up motion activated cameras in the trees to see where the game is, and the Internet hunting forums have been spreading the word that we really want to catch whoever's doing this. They e-mail us any pictures showing people in the area where it happened. One of the guys we suspect of dealing in animal parts was seen near where Socrates was shot about the time it happened, and we got a tip he's at it again. We're going to watch him and see what develops."

She had been driving her truck up into the mountains as we talked, working our way into the network of logging roads that covers the forests. Suddenly she pulled off into a turnoff and doused the lights.

"This the place?"

"No, but I don't like the looks of what that truck on the other side of this valley is doing."

The truck was working its way toward us, moving slowly with someone shining a spotlight from the passenger side out into the woods.

"They looking for something?"

"Yeah, deer."

She swung the truck out in front the old Toyota pickup, flipping on the red and blue flashing lights on top. The driver, caught in the beam of her spotlight, looked around for a few seconds and then realized that he couldn't outrun an F250 4x4 and switched off the engine. Amanda stepped out, making sure not to block the spotlight that was preventing the driver from seeing where she was.

"Get out and keep your hands where I can see them!"

The driver, a grizzled old coot in filthy jeans and a flannel shirt, did so.

"Asa, you got any weapons on you?"

"Just a knife on my belt. You know I wouldn't try anything stupid with you, Officer Johnson."

"Keep your hands up."

She pulled a folded hunting knife off his belt, glanced at it, and tossed it into the bed of his truck. The she quickly ran her right hand around his belt and up his sides, keeping the left near her holstered Beretta. 

"Everyone gets treated the same, Asa, you know that. Haven't we had this conversation about jacklighting before?"

"Aw, there's so many damn rules these days I can't keep them straight."

"When has jacklighting ever been legal? Go stand in front of my truck."

She pulled a small rifle out of the passenger side of the Toyota, cleared it of ammunition, and put it in her truck. Then she pulled out her ticket book and walked to the front of the truck.

"I'm going to write you a citation and confiscate your rifle and spotlight. By rights I should confiscate your truck too, but I know you need it to get to work and I'm too busy tonight to wait for a tow truck. Sign here. It says you have to see the judge Wednesday. I promise you that if I catch you doing this again, I'll make time to confiscate your truck and throw you in jail."

"I got grandkids to feed."

"Find another way to do it. What do you hear about this owl shooting stuff?"

"If I knew who was doing that I would have called you already."

I had been staying out of the way and keeping my mouth shut, but I snorted at that.

"You're going to help out the Game Department?"

Asa gave me a dirty look.

"Don't lump me in with that lowlife, son. I may bend the rules a little, but I don't kill anything unless I'm going to eat it. Anyone who gets a kick out of using God's creatures for target practice is sick in the head."

He grudgingly took his paperwork, climbed back into his truck, and drove off toward town. We started uphill again.

"So what was that all about?"

She glanced at me.

"Real city boy, huh? Deer tend to come out and graze just after dark. If you shine a spotlight in their face they freeze and stare at you. Then a guy like Asa there will take his little .22 rifle and pop them right between the eyes. Quick, quiet, and a major game law violation."

Eventually she pulled off the road and backed her truck into a stand of trees.

"So what are we looking for tonight?"

"The guy we think is doing this drives a black Blazer with extra lights all over it. If we see it coming down I'm going to pull him over, check his hunting license, and see what else there is to see."

"Just take it one step at a time. Remember that it doesn't do any good to catch him with a dead bird if the evidence gets thrown out because of a bad search."

"Will do."

We stared out into the dark for a while.

"So tell me how you became a wildlife officer."

"If you ask me what a nice girl like me is doing in a job like this you're walking back to town."

"Just making conversation."

"Well, I was a typical Western kid. In college I worked summers on a Forest Service fire crew. I was already majoring in biology and thinking that I didn't want to spend my working life at a desk. My senior year I worked on a research project the University was doing for the Wildlife Department and got to know some of the wildlife officers. They talked me into applying to the Wildlife Division, I got on, and here I am."

"Liking it so far?"

"I love it. The hours can be hard, but I like being outdoors and feeling like what I do matters."

She glanced at me.

"So what's your story?"

"I interned in a DA's office school. After I graduated I took a job in a big downtown law firm and found that I was bored out of my mind reviewing and writing stock disclosure statements. I started looking for a job in a DA's office, was offered this one, and here I am."

"Like it?"

"Well, the pay's not nearly as good, but it doesn't have to be out of the big city. At least there's something new every day and I get into court a lot."

She glanced at the dashboard clock.

"I think we hit a dry hole. If our suspect was going to be out tonight we would have seen signs of something. It's too dark for anyone to be hunting owls by now."

She started the truck up and pulled out onto the dirt logging road.

"Does catching Asa count?"

"Not for much. I can't overlook that, but he's small fry."

"You weren't as hard on him as you could have been."

She thought about that.

"My grandmother taught me that when we hunt the animals are giving themselves to us to sustain the People, and that we have to respect that gift. I'm not sure I buy into that 100%, but I have more sympathy for people who hunt to eat than I do for people who take parts of an animal to sell overseas and waste the rest."

"You hunt?"

"I used to, but it's the busiest time of year for us and I haven't gone since I joined the Department. I still eat my dad's elk sausage any chance I get."

Eventually she pulled into the parking lot behind the now closed courthouse.

"Your car's here, right?"

"Right over there."

"OK, well, thanks for coming out. Want to go again Saturday?"

I had thought about asking her to have a drink with me, but she was obviously stuck in all-business mode.

"Sure. What time?"

"Meet me here about 5:00 AM."

Yikes. Well, I couldn't wimp out now.

"See you then."

We shook hands and she drove off, leaving me deep in thought. She was obviously a smart, dedicated wildlife officer, and the more I got to know her the more I liked her. She was about as friendly as a block of granite, though, and it didn't look like we would ever do more than work together occasionally.

I dragged myself out of bed at 4:00 AM Saturday, filled a Thermos with coffee, and grabbed the box of donuts I had picked up the night before. She was waiting when I got to the parking lot at 4:45.

"Want one?"

She gave me a wary look.

"You kidding?"

"How's that?"

"Assuming that as a police officer I'm obsessed with donuts? Did you bring anything healthier?"

"I just grabbed what I like to eat. It's not a joke."

"Any maple bars in there?"

"Yeah, there's a couple."

"You're in luck then. Truth is I love those."

"So why are you giving me a hard time about it?"

"I don't like being typecast."

We headed up into the hills and she pulled into a turnoff that gave us a good view of the surrounding valleys without drawing attention to her truck. I poured coffee for both of us and we watched the sun fill the valley without saying much. She muttered something.

"What's that?"

"Oh, just something my grandmother used to say to greet the sunrise. Old habit."

She picked up her field glasses and focused on something across the valley.

"Hey, we may be in luck."

She pulled out and headed down into the valley. At the bottom, we came to a T intersection with another logging road. A big black Blazer roared past, and Amanda swung out behind it. About half a mile down the road she hit the lights and siren, and the Blazer pulled over. The driver, a big burly guy in dirty camouflage, was trying to look innocent.

"What's the problem, Officer?"

"The speed limit on these logging roads is twenty, and you were doing at least twice that."

Her eyes were roaming all over the truck.

"Sorry about that. I'll be more careful the rest of the way."

Amanda stiffened suddenly, stepped back, and pulled her Beretta from her belt.

"Get out slowly and put your hands on top of your head!"

"What's wrong?"

"Just do it!"

He did so. She checked his belt and took the hunting knife that everyone seems to carry in the woods.

"Go over there and sit on my front bumper. Don't move and keep your hands in sight. Give me a reason and I'll shoot you."

"What the heck did I do?"

"Want to explain the owl feathers all over your back seat?"

The look on his face made clear that (1) he hadn't expected her to pick up on that and (2) he knew he was caught. He went and sat heavily on the front of the truck. Amanda reached into the back seat while keeping one eye on him and pulled out a green garbage bag. She set it on the road and opened the top.

"Mike, come look at this!"

I walked over, careful not to get between her and the suspect. The owl in the bag could have been Socrates' twin, except that it had two wings and a large bullet hole through its body. Amanda walked over to her truck, almost vibrating with rage, and faced the suspect.

"Get up and put your hands behind your back."

"OK, look, you got me and I'll pay the fine, but there's no need for that."

He got to his feet, towering over her. I started to move toward them. While I was ready to help Officer Johnson if she needed it, I was also afraid that she was ready to indulge in some police brutality that I didn't want to witness if I could prevent it. 

"I'm not going to tell you again. Turn around and put your hands behind your back. Now!"

"Look, little lady, this is silly. You ain't big enough to take me in. Just send me my ticket in the mail."

Incredibly, he didn't seem to think he had talked his way into enough trouble. He turned to me.

"Hey, would you tell your girlfriend here to stop botherin' me? She got PMS or something?"

I didn't need to respond. There was a quick blur behind him, a swirl of movement, and he was face down in the gravel road with Officer Johnson twisting his right arm up between his shoulder blades.

"You still think you're not under arrest, smartass? Ready to behave?"

He tried to say something, but was having trouble. I saw that Amanda had her knee on his head, most of her weight forcing his face down into the gravel. Ouch. She pulled a pair of handcuffs off her belt and slapped one onto the wrist she was holding.

"Put your other hand back here. Give me any more trouble and I'll rip your shoulder out of the socket."

He obviously believed her, and couldn't get his hand back fast enough. Amanda finished cuffing him and stood up, slightly flushed.

"Moron. Help me get him up, would you?"

We got him up and seated on the ground, and left him there while Amanda radioed for backup and a tow truck. Some blood was running down his face from bits of gravel still embedded there. She started back to the Blazer, and I headed her off.




The Socratic Method



"Listen, Amanda, let's wait and I'll get a search warrant. I don't want to risk anything getting thrown out. Evidence tape the doors and you can search it later at the impound yard."

She looked up at me.

"I knew you might come in handy before this was done."

While she went to get the evidence tape out of her truck and started sealing the Blazer, I went over to check on Rufus the Doofus.

"Did you see that, man? That was police brutality! You're my witness!"

"What I saw was you resisting arrest and then losing a fight with a girl half your size. That's what I'm going to testify to if it comes to that."

I left him to his own thoughts. 

The rest of the day was taken up with getting the Blazer towed, Rufus booked, and then writing the warrant application and finding a judge to sign it on a Saturday. I left Amanda and the evidence techs to do the actual search, knowing that I didn't want to be a possible witness to where stuff was found. I had intended to ask Amanda to have a celebratory drink with me when she finished, but she was so busy for so long that I gave up and went home.

Amanda was in my office first thing Monday. I poured her a cup of coffee and she grinned at me.

"A lot of the stuff we found in that Blazer is still at the lab, but we think we've got five separate dead owls that we can prove, depending on the DNA results. Plus his laptop, with a bunch of emails to his customers about animal parts he has for sale. We're going to be talking to them and probably getting more search warrants. Looks like it may lead us to the Koreans who buy up bear gall bladders for top dollar. I think we're breaking up a major wildlife trafficking operation here."

"Nice. Should I ask how you took down Rufus so fast?"

"We did a lot of judo at the Police Academy. As the instructor used to say, 'the amount of muscle you use isn't nearly as important as knowing how to use it.'"

"Anything on Socrates?"

"Since Socrates got away, there's probably no trace evidence in the Blazer. No ballistics, either- a bird's wing won't stop a rifle bullet. We may not pin that on him, but I think we can prove enough other crimes that it won't really matter."

"Where did he end up finally?"

"Turns out that most zoos have all the owls they want, and the wildlife rehab facilities are full too. I got permission from the Feds to keep him, at least for the time being. He lives at my house."

"How's that working out?"

"He's a smart bird, and good company since I live alone. My freezer's half full of dead rats and mice, but once I got used to that it's great."

She stopped in regularly over the next few weeks to update me and get help with search warrants. The US Attorney ended up taking over the case from my office, which was fine with me since the investigation had spread into at least two other states. It really wasn't a small-town case any more. Eventually most of his cohorts saw the writing on the wall and pleaded guilty to a slightly reduced charge. Rufus, though, refused to believe he could go to prison for an owl. The Feds ended up borrowing one of our courtrooms for the trial rather than ship all the witnesses to Portland.

Since it was a Federal case now, I wasn't involved in prosecuting it. Amanda, as the investigating officer, had to sit in on the whole thing and help keep track of the witnesses and evidence on top of her own testimony. She got in the habit of wandering into my office two floors down after court was done for the day to debrief and let me know what was going on. While she never unbent from her stiffly professional attitude, I found myself looking forward more and more to her visits. She was willing to listen to what was going on with my cases, too, and usually had a useful perspective on the facts. Every time I suggested that she have dinner or a drink with me after work hours, though, she said she didn't have time. After several weeks of trial, the jury convicted Rufus of everything he was charged with.

I went to court with Amanda for the sentencing. She brought Socrates along to be sure the judge understood the real impact of what the gang had done. Once it was all over, the judge was off the bench, and the marshals had led Rufus & Co. off to start their prison sentences, she perched Socrates on the back of a chair and hugged me, smiling. Hugging a woman who's wearing a duty belt and body armor is a lot like hugging a tree trunk, but I appreciated the thought.

"Thanks, Mike, you helped a lot. Did I tell you I'm in line for Wildlife Officer of the Year for this?"

"Hey, I was glad I could help."

No better time to try again.

"Can I take you out to dinner to celebrate?"

Her response was automatic.

"I really don't think that's a good idea."

She paused.

"On second thought, why not? Sounds like fun. I need to take Socrates home and get him settled, though. Can I meet you there?"

"Sure. Say Zarelli's about seven?"

"That's right in my neighborhood. Perfect."

I was waiting outside the restaurant when she arrived, and the look on my face must have showed my shock. She had swapped her uniform for high heels and a short, form fitting little red dress, and her hair hung in a soft chestnut cascade to her mostly bare shoulders. Nice shoulders, too- the muscle was there but not to the point that it ruined her smooth feminine curves. Speaking of curves, hers looked great out of a ballistic vest. The spaghetti straps of her dress framed a lovely cleavage; not huge but definitely there, high set and firm. Her face looked different too. Makeup, I realized as she got closer; like most men I only notice it when a woman wears too much, and it hadn't occurred to me that she never bothered to wear any while on duty. I don't know what she did, but it sure brought out her already pretty features. Amanda grinned at the look on my face and poked me in the ribs.

"What's got you looking like a jacklighted deer, handsome?"

Smiling? Flirting? What was this?

"Who are you, and what have you done with that tough cop I've been hanging out with?"

"Took her off with the duty belt. Just don't forget that I can still break your arm if you get too fresh."

She slid her arm through mine, confirming my initial impression that there was no way a bra would fit under that dress.

"You get us a table?"

"Uh, yeah, right this way."

I asked again as we reached the table.

"So, no gun tonight?"

She did a turn that a catwalk model would have envied.

"What do you think?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess concealing one would take some doing."

She leaned closer to me and whispered, just as I took a drink of water.

"If you're going to frisk me, though, I think you should at least buy me dinner first."

The next few minutes were occupied with her slapping my back and giggling as I coughed up the water I had taken down the wrong pipe. Eventually we got settled at the table.

"I don't know why civilians think it's so cool to carry a gun all the time. They should feel my back after carrying twenty pounds of gear and a seven pound ballistic vest for a ten hour shift."

"One of those things that looks a lot more exciting in the movies, I guess. Just like being a DA."

"There sure were some dull moments in that trial. I was struggling not to yawn in front of the jury."

"If you have to, at least do it while the defense lawyer is talking."

"I'll remember that next time... Hey, we're friends, right?"

"More than that if I have any say in it."

"You'd tell me if I was going overboard, wouldn't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I spend so much time being a cop in a uniform that I go a little nuts when I get a chance to just be a girl. I don't want to make a fool of myself here."

She started to get up.

"This is stupid. You ask me out for a nice dinner and I show up in this slutty dress, clown around, and generally destroy any respect you have for me. Can we just forget this whole thing and start fresh Monday?"

I grabbed her wrist. For a second I was afraid that she really was going to break my arm. I had no doubt that she could if she really wanted to, but I had been trying to get her here for a long time and wasn't letting this go that easily.

"Amanda, sit down."

She did.

"You did a hell of a job on that owl case. I've seen your dedication to your work, and I have a lot of respect for you as a cop. Tonight is the first chance I've gotten to see you as a woman, and you better believe that I like what I'm seeing. Slutty is the last thing you are. You're a beautiful woman who doesn't get to enjoy being a beautiful woman very often, and I'm thrilled to be a part of it tonight. Stop worrying and have fun. I promise I'm still going to like you on Monday."

She relaxed a little.

"You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. Can we order now?"

She sat down and picked up a menu.

"They do a great tonno alla palermitana here."

"Sounds good."

By the end of dinner we had finished a bottle of very good Pinot Noir, and she was completely relaxed and giggly. The more I saw this side of her, the more I liked it. 

"Walk me home?"

"Be glad to. Let's go."

The way to her house led through the city park. She had her arm through mine again, and we couldn't stop laughing as we strolled along. We paused on the bridge over the duck pond to look at the moon. She caught me looking at her instead of the sky, which wasn't hard since I couldn't resist.

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking about risking a broken arm to kiss you."

She frowned, but her eyes were still laughing.

"I was always told to balance the risk against the potential reward."

I pulled her into my arms. She came willingly enough, and the feel of her soft, warm lips and agile tongue left me dizzy. After a while we came up for air.

"Jerk!"

"What did I do?"

"I was starting to wonder if I was going to have to wrestle you down and handcuff you to get kissed tonight."

"If you might want a guy to kiss you, you shouldn't talk about breaking his arm if he tries it. Keep that handcuffing thing in mind, though. It might be fun later."

"Only if you're very good and very, very lucky."

I swallowed hard, she laughed at the look on my face, and it was so cute that I had to kiss her again. Then the world lit up around us.

"Hey, folks, the park's closed!"

I looked into the spotlight. Amanda had her head turned from the light and seemed to be trying to stuff her head inside the jacket of my suit.

"Sorry. Officer, we were just cutting through on the way home."

"Looked to me like you were doing a little more than that. Take it inside, OK?"

"You got it. Sorry."

"OK, then."

The light snapped off and I heard the patrol car move away. A muffled voice came from the area of my left armpit.

"Is he gone?"

"Yep."

She popped out of my jacket, straightened my tie, smoothed herself out a little, and grabbed my hand.

"Let's get out of here."

"Sure. What's wrong?"

"I know that guy, just like everyone enforcement in this county knows each other. If he had recognized me everyone would have known about it by tomorrow."

"Police aren't allowed to kiss DAs?"

"Cops are merciless about teasing each other. Let it get out that I was making out with some guy in public like a teenager, wearing this little dress, and I'll be getting volunteered for the hooker decoy detail forever."

"I hate to quit on that note."

"Who wants to quit? We just need to take it inside."

We got to her place in record time. I reached for her as soon as we got in the front door, but a loud hooting distracted her. She went over to a large cage that took up about half the living room.

"Hi, Socrates! Miss me, handsome? Want a mouse?"

Socrates did seem excited to see her. Made two of us. She stepped into the kitchen for a second and came back with something small that she handed to him.

"That better, big guy? Nice mousie?"

Socrates shifted a few times and retreated to the back of the cage, and Amanda wiped her hands on a handy towel. Then she came over and put her hands on my shoulders.

"Where were we?"

I wrapped my arms around her waist and demonstrated, and she remembered quickly. The hem of her dress was headed north when the hooting started again. She glanced over.

"Socrates, knock it off!"

He flapped and hooted some more.

"Damn it, I can't get into this with that bird looking at us like that. Come on."

He did look like a particularly strict judge I used to deal with, and the thought wasn't helping the mood. I let her pull me down the hall with no resistance. At the foot of her bed she stepped into my arms again.

"Finally, just us."

God, but that girl could kiss when she wanted to. I got a finger inside the top of her dress, found a sweet little nipple, and popped it out. She was starting to unbutton my shirt. I grabbed her hands.

"Amanda, slow down a second."

She pouted. 

"What's wrong? This is fun!"

"It sure is, and I love where this is headed. I promised not to let you get carried away, though. You sure you want to do this tonight?"

What was I, insane? Trying to talk a sweet, gorgeous woman out of a night of passion? I knew this was about more than one night, though.

"You didn't realize that we've been building up to this for the last two months? You wouldn't be here if we didn't already know and like each other. I may be a little tipsy, but I don't do stupid things on first dates. I'm not like that."

"I know you aren't, and yeah, I have wanted this for a while now. I just thought you didn't like me."

"You were wrong as usual. Can we talk later? I should have known better than to go out with a damn lawyer. Wanting to talk, talk, talk when I can think of about a dozen better uses for your lips right now."

"Like this?"

"Mmm, exactly. That's a great idea. Oh God, that feels good. The zipper's on my side..."

Within seconds I had pulled the dress over her head, pushed her backwards onto the bed, pulled off my clothes and followed her. I propped myself on one elbow next to her and ran the other hand from her collarbone down her chest and tummy, managing to caress both breasts on the way, stopping at the waistband of her white cotton string bikini panties. 

"Sorry, I didn't have time to place an order at Victoria's Secret."

My voice was hoarse.

"Believe me, you look sexy as hell. Not worth worrying about, though."

I pulled them off, exposing a neatly trimmed dark stripe.

"There, that's even better."

I started my lips following them same path as my hand. Just below her belly button she grabbed me and pulled me up to face her.

"Hey, I was going to-"

"I know what you were going to do, and I like the idea. We have all night to play around. I can't wait any longer to have you inside me."

The kiss didn't break as I shifted myself on top of her and she wrapped her long legs around my waist. She guided me to her dripping entrance, and I plunged into her in one long, smooth, ecstatic stroke. My God, it felt good. She winced a little, though.

"Hold still a second...God, you're big... It's been a long time..."

I never thought I was unusually big, but hell, if she thought so, who am I to argue?

"You OK? Need to stop?"

"Hell, no, I'm loving this... just give me a second..."

After a few seconds her hips started rocking, and I started a long, slow stroke.

"Oh, that's better... That's so good...God, this is nice...HARDER!"

Glad to oblige. Her mutters gradually turned to incoherent moans, growing louder and louder until she dug her nails into my shoulders, screamed my name, and had a massive orgasm that took me clean over the edge with her. After a few minutes of catching our breath and getting our bearings, I rolled to one side, pulling her with me so she had a leg still draped over my hips as she settled her head in the crook of my shoulder with me still inside her. I kissed her gently.

"My God, sweetheart, I never suspected you had it in you. That was amazing!"

"I keep my passionate side under wraps. That was pretty amazing."

"You comfortable?"

"More than comfortable."

We fell silent for a while, content to hold each other tightly. Eventually she looked up at me.

"What is that? You ready for round two already?"

"I guess so. Have I mentioned that you turn me on?"

"Glad to hear it."

She pushed me onto my back and rolled on top of me, still never breaking the connection. My face was buried in the silken fall of her hair as she flattened out and kissed me. Then she put her hands on my chest, pushed herself up, and started sliding up and down in little one inch strokes that made her pretty breasts bounce in very alluring ways. That gave me an idea, so I leaned up and sucked a nipple into my mouth, drawing a gasp from her. My hands were clutching her hips as she bounced faster and faster until damn, there it was again with a set of scratches on my chest to match the ones on my back. She collapsed onto my chest, gathering her hair to one side and settling her cheek in the hollow of my throat. I caressed her back for a while. 

"Amanda, sweetheart? Amanda?"

Well, what do you know; she had gone to sleep just like that with me still inside her. Sure felt good to me, so I pulled the quilt up to cover both of us, wrapped my arms around her, and dozed off myself. She rolled off sometime during the night, but stayed securely wrapped in my arms.

I was alone in her bed when I woke up the next morning, so I pulled my boxers on and went in search of her. I jumped about a foot when I was greeted by a loud hoot as I went into the living room. I had forgotten about that damn owl.

"Morning, Socrates, you shithead."

I swear he was laughing at me. I found Amanda in the kitchen, hair still wet from the shower, wearing a t-shirt that barely covered her cute little rear end and nothing else that I could see. 

"Morning, beautiful."

I reached for her and she stiffened and pulled back a little.

"Mike, we need to talk."

"That's not what I wanted to wake up to."

"Look, I like you a lot, and I don't regret anything we did last night. I don't need a lot of gossip about my personal life, though. Being a female officer is hard enough without that. I don't know if it's a good idea to get involved with a man who works with most of the same people I do."

"As far as I'm concerned what goes on between you and me stays between you and me. I want this thing to work out, but if it doesn't I don't need everyone we know looking over our shoulders any more than you do. Why don't we just keep it between ourselves until we decide we're ready to go public?"

"I guess we could do that."

She looked me over.

"Did I put those scratches on your chest?"

"You sure did, you little wildcat."

"Sorry. Guess I got carried away."

"Hey, never apologize to me for getting carried away in bed. That's half the fun."

"Well, let me kiss it and make it better."

She stepped forward and kissed my chest, giving me the chance to put my arms around her like I had wanted to do all morning. The kisses moved up to my mouth, and started getting serious. Eventually I grabbed her rear end and hoisted her onto the counter, stepping forward between her legs. She was giggling in my ear as I pushed her onto her back.

"What, no panties?"

"I didn't want to go looking for them and wake you up. You looked pretty cute asleep in my bed."

"Cute? I'll show you cute!"

Having her spread out on the counter gave me an idea, so I acted on it. She gasped as my tongue worked its way around and under her clitoral hood, finding and capturing the little pink nub.

"Oh my God, Mike! OH MY GOD! TAKE ME! TAKE ME NOW!"

I straightened up, grabbed her hips, propped her feet on my shoulders, and plunged into her. She was clutching the edge of the counter with both hands as I pounded into her, tossing her head around and moaning. 




The Socratic Method



"You ready?"

"Oh, God, yes!"

"Go."

If there's anything better than watching-and feeling- a pretty woman climax and knowing that you caused it, I don't know what it is. I put her legs down and pulled her up into my arms, and she melted onto my shoulder.

"Now I need a shower again, you jerk!"

"I didn't hear you complaining at the time. I need a shower myself."

We snuck off to the shower together. Let's just say that she made sure a part of me that had been getting a thorough workout was scrupulously clean by the time the hot water ran out.

From that weekend, we got in the habit of getting together every chance we got. She worked lots of strange hours, so I gave her a key to my place. It was an unexpected treat to come home and find her cooking dinner in my kitchen, or to wake up to her slipping into my bed in the middle of the night naked from the shower after a long stakeout. I had a key to her place too, and made sure Socrates got fed if she was out at his usual meal times. I was smart enough to call ahead if I was coming over, though, since she was the best shot in the county and kept her Beretta near her bed.

One night over a late dinner I mentioned that I had to go to the statewide DA's convention in Portland the next month.

"Why don't you see if you can get some time off and come with me? We could try dating like a real couple, maybe catch a concert or a play. As much fun as it is hanging out with you, it would be fun to get out of the house once in a while too."

"That does sound like fun. I could get that high school kid next door to take care of Socrates. He's fascinated with him anyway."

"I think he's fascinated with you, not that I blame him."

"Well, he is kind of cute, but luckily for you I like my men a little closer to my own age. Let me check my work schedule."

The convention turned out to be a lot of fun. Amanda's girl enough to enjoy the chance to go shopping in the big city while I was stuck in seminars on various aspects of criminal law. In the evening, she got to wear her new clothes and enjoy the open admiration of my colleagues from around the state during the various social events. The men and women appeared to find her equally charming, although the men were smitten by her beauty too.

"So, Mike, how did you find a girl like that out in the boonies?"

"At work, actually. She's a wildlife officer with the State Police."

"Wow. They didn't make them like that in my day."

There was a flurry on the dance floor, and the dancers parted to reveal Amanda with her erstwhile dance partner on his knees in front of her, his wrist in what looked like a fairly painful joint lock.

"I told you twice to keep your hands off my butt! What's wrong with you?"

The guy grunted out an apology and she released him. He walked off the dance floor trying to look dignified and ignore the subdued laughter. Amanda patted her hair, straightened her dress, and returned to our table looking a little shamefaced.

"Sorry, Mike, I got irritated and just reacted. Can we go back to our room?"

One of the other women leaned over and put her hand on top of Amanda's.

"Honey, that jerk has been asking for something like that for a long time. Nobody blames you. Don't let it ruin your evening."

There was a murmur of agreement, someone passed a bottle of champagne around, and the whole table toasted her. She shrugged sheepishly and joined in.

The next night I took her to a touring Broadway play that was in town. The end of the trip was getting close, and I wanted to enjoy as much of the big city as we could before we headed back. A lighthearted musical seemed like just what we needed. We were laughing and humming show tunes throughout the stroll back to the hotel.

Back in our room, I sat on the bed to take off my shoes. Amanda walked over in front of me, and without warning shoved me onto my back and jumped on top of me. There was a clicking sound, and I found my wrists firmly attached to the headboard.

"What the heck?"

"I once said that I was only going to use my cuffs on you if you were very good. Well, you've been very good, and you're about to get very, very lucky. Hold still a second."

She produced a handcuff key and did something to the cuffs.

"What's that?"

"Double locking. Even though I'm doing this for fun, I want to follow procedure so you won't get hurt."

She started working her way back down my body, unbuttoning as she went. The shirt couldn't go too far, but she had no trouble pulling my pants off. She blew gently on my rapidly stiffening cock and giggled when it jumped.

"Hmm, interesting, but I think I'll leave that for a little later..."

I groaned. This was going to be an exercise in frustration.

"So, I thought I'd show you some of the more, uh, personal stuff I bought with you in mind."

She disappeared into the bathroom and came back in what I guess you would call a teddy- spaghetti straps, dark blue lace and not a lot of it. It set off her tan to perfection. She turned once.

"You like?"

I guess my whimper sounded enough like a "yes" to satisfy her. She looked a little uncertain.

"I know I'm not built like those girls in the catalogs..."

"What, emaciated with huge rubber boobs? I'll take athletic and healthy over that any day."

She smiled and crawled over the foot of the bed. Even without silly cones, her cleavage looked great from where I was.

"Good answer. You have a silver tongue. Sometimes I do too."

She bent lower and demonstrated briefly.

"Hey, don't stop now."

"I'm not done with my show."

She disappeared again and came back in a tiny, bright red lace thong and nothing else.

"Remember that dress I wore on our first date?"

"Hard to forget that whole night."

"This is what I'm going to have on under it the next time you see it."

"I can't wait."

H"Well, maybe we should practice that a little."

She stretched out on top of my legs and rested her head on my bare thigh. The soft silk of her hair was tickling the inside of my legs all the way to my balls. She reached up and started playing casually with my shaft.

"Well, this is fun, isn't it? What kind of cases do you have next week?" 

I tested my wrists. No matter how hard I tried, I wasn't getting my hands on her.

"Amanda, damn it..."

"What's wrong?"

She glanced up and did an exaggerated double take.

"Oh, look at that! Needs a little attention, does it?"

She started at my balls and kissed her way all the way up, running her tongue all the way around just under the head. Then she resumed her resting position between my legs and smirked.

"That better? Ready to go to sleep?"

"When I get loose, young lady, you're going to be in trouble!"

"Is that a threat or a promise? OK, just a little more..."

She did the exact same thing again. Then she started slowly wiggling her way up my body, maintaining maximum body contact all the way. Eventually she put her hands on either side of my chest, leaned in, and kissed me lightly. As I tried to deepen it, she pulled back just out of reach. 

"This isn't going to be that easy, big guy."

She kept going up until her knees were on either side of my shoulders. She had lost the thong somewhere on her way up my body, and I had a spectacular view. I leaned up and ran my tongue along either side of her labia, finding all sorts of dampness. She inhaled sharply and slapped her hands on the wall above the headboard. Just as my tongue penetrated her, she pulled back again, damn it! Her voice was unsteady.

"Nice move, buddy, but we're taking this slow."

Her hips moved forward again and she hovered just out of my reach for what felt like hours before she closed the final inch and let me finally find that cute little pink bud.

"Ohhh, yeah..."

After a few seconds she slid back down my body again.

"Amanda, would you please let me out of these damn cuffs?"

"Not yet, I'm having too much fun."

She settled herself astride me, sat up, and guided me inside her soaking wet channel. Then she put her hands behind her head and started moving her hips in little circles, keeping me deep inside her. It was incredible to watch and better to feel, but my wrists were getting sore from my instinctive efforts to get my hands on her. As she kept going, her movements were getting jerkier. She dropped forward and put her hands on the headboard, continuing to wiggle her hips. I leaned up and captured one of her pretty nipples, but she leaned back.

"Would you please let me loose?"

She was gasping heavily and I could feel contractions starting around my cock. Oh, the heck with it; I was enjoying this too much to argue. Finally, finally, she flattened out on my chest and kissed me. That seemed to be all it took for her to reach a long, intense orgasm, and that in turn made me to go off so hard I was afraid I was going to blast her against the ceiling.

I woke up to her slapping my face with one hand and feeling my neck for breathing and pulse with the other. My hands were free again.

"Mike? Mike? Come on, wake up!"

I grabbed her as she appeared to be about to start CPR. Watching a beautiful naked girl do that could be fun, but not with the terrified look on her face.

"Amanda? I'm fine, sweetheart."

She collapsed against my chest, and I kissed her forehead.

"Damn, you scared me, Mike! I thought you were having a heart attack!"

"If I have to go that's how I want to do it, but not for another sixty years or so. I think you made me come so hard I passed out."

"Wow. I didn't know I could do that."

"Neither did I. Never happened before."

She pulled herself up and kissed me.

"Would you just hold me for a while? That was really scary."

I got her settled into a comfortable spoon and wrapped her in my arms, and we drifted off that way. It crossed my mind that when I had gotten freaky with other women in the past it had always ended with one or the other of us getting up and going home, but with her we just wanted to be together. I knew what that implied and was comfortable with it. If only she was, life would be complete.

My usual morning wood was increased considerably by the cute, bare female rear end rubbing against it. I kissed Amanda's ear lobe, and she spoke sleepily.

"How you doing this morning, big guy?"

"Great. I like waking up like this."

"So do I."

She lifted a leg, slid me inside her, and dropped it again.

"That's not a bad start to the morning either."

"It sure isn't."

We stayed like that for a long time, moving just enough to keep things interesting. Wild and crazy had been fun last night, but slow, loving, sleepy morning sex was pretty good too.

Eventually we went out to breakfast and then started the long drive home. About halfway back I rubbed my sore wrists and glanced at her.

"Say, did you remember to get your cuffs off the headboard after all that excitement?"

"Of course. I don't lose my equipment."

"I'll never forget the look on your face."

"Can you imagine me, a State Wildlife Police officer, trying to explain to the Portland Police how I managed to handcuff my boyfriend to a bed and shag him to death? I would have lost my badge. Not to mention that I would have missed you, of course."

"Yeah, that could have been embarrassing. I bet you would have had plenty of men lining up to be next, though."

"I don't need plenty of men. One good one is enough for me."

She reached over and took my hand, checking the marks from the handcuffs.

"You shouldn't have fought the cuffs. I could have told you they wouldn't break."

"Yeah, if you hadn't been busy teasing the hell out of me."

"Hey, you had fun, didn't you?"

"I sure did."

She kissed my wrist, and held my hand most of the way home just for fun.

The sergeant in charge of the local detachment strode into my office a couple of weeks after the conference. In the old days the State Police didn't hire anyone under six feet tall, and as a result the senior troopers looked like a race of giants. After talking over a couple cases he was working, he gave me a stern look.

"How's things going with you and Amanda Johnson?"

"That owl case? Wrapped it up a while ago."

"Don't try to piss on my boots and tell me it's raining, boy. I was asking about the fact that you're romancing her."

"Uhh..."

"Don't bother, boy. It's the worst kept secret since Clinton met Monica."

He pointed a finger the size of a banana between my eyes.

"She's a good cop and a smart, pretty woman. If you're embarrassed to be dating her you're the sorriest son of a bitch God ever made."

I picked up my phone, told the receptionist to hold my calls, and made sure the door was closed.

"Look, I need some advice. Can I talk to you man to man without it going any further?"

"You got it."

I knew his word was good.

"Look, I'm in love with that girl and I don't care who knows it. She's everything you say and more. If it was up to me I'd be bragging to everyone. She's the one who wants to keep it quiet."

"Well, dating a lawyer is a little embarrassing."

"Yeah, I know. Seriously, she seems to think that having a personal life will hurt her credibility as a law enforcement officer."

"She's always worried too much about that. She was the first female game officer in this county, and it wasn't easy for her starting out. These good ol' boys didn't want to take a pretty little college girl seriously." 

He thought a little.

"I'm old enough to remember when they first started hiring black cops. Lots of guys thought that would never work. Once those black cops showed that they were as good as anyone else, the same guys were the first to announce that 'all cops bleed blue'. As the first female law enforcement officer around here, I think Amanda was in the same boat. At least she was smart enough to stiff arm all those young bucks who came buzzing like bees to honey when she showed up. I tried to tell them that their usual cop routine wouldn't impress a woman who carried a badge and a gun herself, but these young guys always have to learn the hard way."

"What changed?"

"One night she was driving through town off duty and saw a deputy fighting with three drunk loggers and losing. It wasn't her problem, but she called it in and then pulled a nightstick out of her back seat and dove right in. In two minutes those loggers were proned out on the sidewalk begging to be allowed to go to jail peacefully. That deputy told everyone who would listen that he'd want her as his back up any time."

"The loggers didn't complain?"

"Fighting's a sport to them. It wouldn't occur to them to complain that they lost. Plus, Wendy McNeil- you know her?- started a rumor that she wanted to write a story about loggers getting their butts whipped by a girl. They couldn't keep it quiet enough."

Wendy McNeil (which wasn't her name then) had been a hotshot New York City journalist when she got sent out here to write a story about Jim McNeil's elk conservation program. Somehow he convinced her to marry him and stay. Now she spent her time writing freelance articles for outdoor magazines and keeping Jim happy, not necessarily in that order. I had helped her with the legal questions that came up in some of her stories.

"I know Wendy. She's a sweetheart."

"Yeah, Jim's a lucky man. My point is, though, that Amanda was accepted as a real cop a long time ago. She could relax about that."

"Well, that brings me back to the basic problem. How do I convince Amanda that she can marry me and still be a respected officer?"

His eyebrows rose.

"Marry you? Damn, this is serious, son."

"Did I say that?"

"You sure did."

"Guess that just slipped out. Oh, hell, I'm tired of kidding myself. That's what I want. She's a terrific woman and if I can get her to marry me I'll be a damned lucky man. How do I do it, though?"

"Let me think that one over, son. It's up to her whether she wants to do it, but I don't want her thinking she has to choose between her career and her personal life. I can't afford to lose good cops."

Speak of the devil: when I went to the coffee shop across the street for lunch I found Jim McNeil sitting alone in a booth. You wouldn't guess that a big, weatherbeaten cowboy like him has a PhD in wildlife biology.

"Jim, what brings you into town?"

"Monthly supply run. I'm waiting for Wendy to finish up over at the beauty shop. I keep telling her she's the prettiest woman in the world and doesn't need all that, but she insists. Have a seat."

I sat.

"I'm no expert on how women think, Jim, but I know that it's no use trying to be logical about something like that. We like to think it's effortless, but they do work to keep themselves looking good and if they don't do the maintenance they won't feel pretty no matter what you say. Just enjoy the fact that you're married to a beautiful woman and don't worry about what she does to stay that way."

"I suppose you're right."

Jim had the sappy grin on his face that appeared every time Wendy was mentioned. Over his shoulder I saw the lady in question walk in and waved at her, bringing her to our table. She gave me a friendly smile and Jim a more than friendly kiss.

"New haircut, Wendy?"

I kicked Jim under the table, and he jumped a little.

"Uh, wow, you look really good, honey!"

Wendy winked at me.

"You're training him well, Mike. Maybe I'll bring him to town more often. So what are you two talking about?"

"I was just telling him what an inspiration he is to us bachelors. If a geek like Jim can snag a girl like you there's hope for the rest of us."

Wendy kissed Jim again.

"I know you're trying to be charming, Mike, but I married this guy, I'm crazy in love with him, and putting him down isn't a compliment to me."

Wendy gave me a sneaky smile.

"I hear you're not doing too badly yourself. How's Amanda these days?"

I tried to look innocent.

"Amanda who?"

"Nice try. Amanda Johnson, the pretty wildlife officer you were seen cuddling with at that convention in Portland when she told everyone she was going to visit her mother in Ashland? Should I tell her you've forgotten about that?"

"What's the one safe thing to say to a reporter, Wendy? You ought to know."

"Don't..."

"No Comment."

"You know that's like waving a red flag at a bull, don't you? You can't expect me to just leave it at that."

"Wendy, I yield to no one, except maybe Jim, in my respect for you as a journalist and a woman."

Jim muttered.

"Christ, if I knew you were going to use your courtroom voice I would have worn my muck boots!"

I ignored him.

"So I know you won't be offended when I tell you that my love life or lack thereof isn't news or any of your business."

"It is over at Dolly's Hair House. I was naturally nosy before I was a reporter. If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. Amanda's a great girl. I'd still say you're doing pretty well. Come on, Jim, it's a long drive home."

At dinner that night, Amanda asked me what was bothering me. She was always ready with some good perspective, a back rub, or sometimes a considerably more intimate favor when I was stressed out over a case, but this was different.

"Two different people asked me today when you and I were going to stop sneaking around and go public. One asked me if I was embarrassed to be in love with you."

Her eyes widened- that was the first time I had said that in so many words- but I was on a roll.

"Can you imagine what that felt like after a week of getting to show you off and having my law school classmates tell me how lucky I am to have such a pretty, bright, charming girlfriend? Wendy McNeil asked me about it after very politely telling me off for poking fun at her man. She loves Jim and isn't afraid to say so. I'm sick of acting like we're having some sleazy secret affair. Most of the officers you work with are married, and there's no reason you can't be. If you're ashamed of me for some reason, say so and we'll call it quits. If not, let's make this official!"




The Socratic Method



I don't know what kind of reaction I expected. Mainly, I was so fed up with the situation that I couldn't hold it in any longer, even if it meant the end of the relationship. As it was, she couldn't have shocked me more.

"OK, you're right."

I'm right? After building up all that frustration and nerving myself to have it out once and for all, I'm right? That's all she has to say? No fight?

"Sergeant Stebbins took me out for a quiet lunch today. He basically told me that I was stringing along a damned good man who was crazy about me, and that I needed to stop being so stupid. He also said that I had been putting myself 100% into the job for too long, and that being with you made me a better officer and an easier person to work with."

She smiled at me.

"I love you too, Mike. And just to be clear, I was proud to be on your arm last month. You're a damned good man, and I'm ready to tell the world that I'm your girl."

Well, we never made it past her bedroom that night, but the next weekend was the Public Safety Picnic, and she only let go of my hand to participate in the Police versus Firefighters tug of war and to check on Socrates once in a while. He liked being out in the open, and I had gotten the local saddle maker to sew three layers of Kevlar onto the left shoulder of my Levi jacket so he could perch there without digging his fearsome talons into me. Those things are almost two inches long and have a grip strength ten times that of a human hand. I was practicing my explanation for the kids about how I ended up with a one winged owl on my shoulder. Their indignation that someone would shoot at him was heartwarming. Of course, he didn't stand still for petting like they wanted, but he was still pretty impressive.

Jim and Wendy McNeil managed to show up for the picnic. Wendy and Amanda exchanged a friendly hug, and Jim picked Amanda up by the waist and kissed her on the cheek.

"Congratulations, you two!"

Amanda gave him a narrow eyed look.

"You know I'd kick your butt for a stunt like that any day but today, right?"

Jim jokingly tried to hide behind Wendy. It looked pretty ridiculous since he's about five inches taller than she is.

"Save me, Wendy!"

"Save yourself, you big dope. If you think I'm going to save you from the consequences of kissing another woman, you got another think coming!"

Amanda couldn't keep her face straight any longer. She laughed, pulled Jim down, and kissed his weatherbeaten cheek.

"I take it you folks know each other?"

"Yeah, Jim and I have worked together on a lot of poaching cases. This guy's understanding of animal behavior patterns is uncanny."

Wendy kissed me on the cheek for good measure.

"So have you two set a date yet?"

"We're still trying to get used to being a couple, Wendy. Don't rush us."

"Hey, being married is fun! Want to go get in line for food?"

We went over and joined the line near the barbecue pits. Turns out owls like hot dogs, although Jim and Amanda were strict about not letting Socrates have very much. Seemed like everyone there had to slap us on the back and tell us how happy they were that we had finally gone public.

Everyone seemed to be assuming that we were already over one essential step that I hadn't actually taken care of yet. The next weekend Amanda had off, I borrowed a friend's beach cabin in Neskowin. The first morning we were there I took her for a walk on the beach.

A mile or two up the beach we came to a sea stack- one of the many old volcanic plugs that stick up just off the coast of the Pacific Northwest. The tide was out far enough that we could walk to the base of this one. A trail led up the side.

"Come on, I want to climb this."

We worked our way up until we popped out of the trees on the sea side of the rock, finding a breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean and the coast. There was a small flat area at the top where we stopped to catch our breath.

"Amanda, the months since I met you have been the happiest of my life. I can't imagine a future that doesn't include you. Will you marry me?"

"Yes. Nice speech."

She grinned and kissed me deeply. 

"I hoped you weren't dragging me to the top of Proposal Rock just to admire the view."

"You knew?"

"I couldn't have graduated from the State Police Academy if I didn't know the geography of the state pretty well. This is sweet of you, though. Yes! I like finally saying that. Yes!"

The excitement around town really got buzzing once we started sending out invitations. Neither of us wanted an elaborate, frilly wedding, but we both have fairly public jobs and didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings by leaving them off the invitation list. We finally decided to do it at the city park where we first kissed, and I got the judge who had mentored me school to preside. She met me at the foot of the bridge on a gorgeous June morning, wearing a beautiful white sun dress, and the whole town turned out to watch and participate in the reception picnic. The ceremony and speeches afterward were occasionally interrupted by hoots from the table where Jim McNeil was sitting with Wendy on one arm and Socrates on the other.

What the heck, we could hardly have left him at home after he brought us together, could we?



The Soda Jerk



During my junior and senior years in high school I worked after school and on weekends in what today would be called an "old fashion" drugstore complete with a soda fountain. I was a soda jerk and wore a paper hat and a white uniform shirt that buttoned across one shoulder just like they do in the movies today. I arranged to have study hall the last period of the day so I could leave school early and be at work before the afternoon rush of junior high kids got out of school a few blocks away. There were two other guys who rotated on the schedule with me plus, George, a senior who was the delivery boy.

Rounding out the afternoon/evening shift was Doc, the druggist who was a very short, redheaded, nerdy, and very often grumpy guy in his fifties. He was married to a woman who was often mistaken as his mother. Then there was Irene. If you are old enough to remember, Flo, the somewhat trashy waitress at Mel's Diner in the TV series, Alice, you just about know Irene. She was in her early forties, a divorced single mom who worked two jobs to support her two kids. While she was quieter in her demeanor her uniform dress was just as tight and she smacked her chewing gum just as loudly. Her somewhat pretty face was hidden by her chained, dark, horn-rimmed glasses which seemed to clash with her bright red lipstick. 

Irene always held my attention because of the outline of the high arch of the garter belt that framed her shapely, mature ass. Since childhood I had always had a fascination with women's under garments. I can still remember when I was very little and my mother would take me to the women's restroom with her. There were usually women there with their skirts pulled up adjusting some interesting garment for some reason. My mother would often tell me, "Honey, stop starring." And I would usually reply, "I'm not mom, I'm just looking." Even to this day I love seeing women wearing vintage under garments and will always turn my head for a peek. Of course I do not stare, but I do look.

I had not worked there long before realizing that Irene and Doc had something going. When business was slow she would often be "assisting" him behind the drug counter or in the back room where inventory and supplies were kept. Doc would appear out of the backroom with his glasses fogged and his thinning red hair mussed then Irene would appear several minutes later with compact in hand touching up her bright red lipstick. She would come behind the fountain counter to make sure we had everything clean and in order. George showed me a trick he played on her from time to time and put a dime on the floor. When she saw it she would pick it up bending over enough for us to see the tops of her stockings and the clasps of her garters. I know, it was mean but we felt like Doc shouldn't be the only one having fun. After all, we did cover for them and took turns giving her a lift home after work. 

One cold rainy Saturday afternoon Doc and Irene were in the backroom taking "inventory" while George and I kept ourselves busy waiting on the few customers who ventured out on the cold rainy day and listening to a football game. I saw Doc's wife pull into the parking lot and rushed, quietly, into the backroom to warn them. Doc was sitting on a stack of bundled paper bags and Irene was on top of him riding up and down. Her dress was hiked up and for the first time I got a close up view of the pretty bare ass that I had so often admirer fully covered. From Doc's sounds I figured that he was just about to blow his wad so I politely stood quietly and waited and watched, maybe this time I did stare, for him to finish. I knew George would try to stall his wife. Within a few seconds of hearing a loud moan I called his name. There was a flurry of movement as they both tried to regain their composure and ask angrily what I was doing there. I told them, "Doc's wife is out front and he needs to get out there quick." Irene straightened her dress and began to look around for her panties. I told them I would let Irene out the backdoor so she could go around and come in the front door. She double checked him to see that he was okay and sent him out.

I handed Irene a roll of tissue paper from the supply box and she quickly turned her back to me and proceeded to clean up the cum on her legs and crotch. She snapped at me for watching but I picked up her panties and knelt in front of her to let her step into them, telling her I was just trying to help her. Of course she didn't believe me but that was okay, she got herself together while I unlocked and opened the back door for her. She went around the building and came in the front door like she had been shopping in the variety store next door. Doc's wife had brought him dinner and stayed until he finished. The rest of the evening there was very little said except for what business had to be conducted. Irene wouldn't look me in the face.

I drove Irene home after we closed but didn't say a word to her until she broke the silence by telling me thanks for helping them out. I just shrugged it off by saying that it was no problem. She wanted to know how long I had been there and how much I had seen. I stalled awhile then told her I had seen enough to make me very jealous of Doc. She smiled and asked why I would be jealous of him with all the young girls that hung around the store. When we pulled into her driveway she usually hopped out right away but that night we talked for several minutes, mostly her telling me about her relationship with Doc and how he helped her from time to time. When she was ready to get out she leaned over to give me a peck on the cheek but I turned to face her and pulled her lips to mine and held her for a long deep kiss. We broke our contact and she sighed and got out. I waited until she entered the house and turned off the porch light before driving away with a huge hard-on.

The next few weeks at work went well. She and Doc had a few backroom sessions but they didn't last quite as long and when they reappeared they did not look as disheveled as they used to. Irene and I interacted more by talking, touching, and teasing but nothing as heavy as our first kiss. I took her home several times and got a few more kisses and a few hands full of her tits. I even laid her hand on my cock several times to let her know about my interest. Then one Saturday night when we pulled into the driveway she told me the kids had gone to visit their grandparents and for me to come on in.

She politely asked if I wanted a bite to eat but I was certain that she was just being polite and I wasn't the least bit interested in eating anything but her. Once in the bedroom I moved my hands to unbutton her dress but she smacked my hands and told me that she was going to undress me first. That was absolutely no problem so I stood there for her to proceed. She first took off her glasses then removed some pins from her hair and let it fall to her shoulders. She pushed me to the bed and knelt on the floor to take off my loafers and socks before taking each foot and raising it to her mouth and kissing it. She stood and pulled me to my feet to unbutton my shirt. Her lips trailed down my chest as she opened each button then her hands pushed my shirt off my shoulders and down my arms. We kissed as her hands unfastened my belt then my jeans before reaching into my shorts and grasping my already hard cock in her hand. After several minutes she slid down my body pulling my jeans and shorts down as she went. Once on her knees she wrapped her arms around my hips pulled me close and pressed her cheek against my cock. 

She stood again and pushed me onto the bed. Her foot went between my legs and ordered me to untie each shoe. Once untied she removed her shoes and replaced her bare foot between my legs her toes teased my balls. She raised the hem of her dress and slowly unfastened each stocking from her garter belt and rolled it down her leg to her toes. Her fingers teased my balls as she slipped each stocking off her toes. By this time I wanted to throw her on the bed and bury my face in her crotch and chew her panties off but I played her game of being her toy. 

She fluffed up the pillows against the headboard and told me to lay back and enjoy as she began to unbutton the front of her too tight uniform dress. I was so excited that I was sure my cock was going to explode, not from an orgasm but from the blood surging through it. I told her almost pleading how much I wanted to go down on her but she only smiled and told me to wait until she got undressed. I had no doubt that she was fully aware of the torture she was putting me through. Today I would almost kill for that type of intense torture. When her dress finally fell to the floor she stood there in the most basic of white panties, bra, and garter belt. No lace, no frills but she looked so sexy with just a hint of a shadow the triangle of her dark pubic hair was showing through her cotton panties. The last of her clothes came off as torturously slow as the first but she finally stood before me a mature, completely nude woman. Young girls are nice but they just do not hold a candle to a mature, forty plus woman.

I was told to turn on my stomach and for the first time I felt Irene's nude body against mine. I felt a firm smack against the cheeks of my ass and heard her tell me that she liked a hard ass. I felt her body move against mine, her nipples dancing on my back, the soft touch of her pubic hair on my ass cheeks replacing the sting from the smack she had just given me. She stretched out and melted against me like butter on toast. She bit my ear, my neck, and back as she slid lower covering my ass with kisses and bites. She opened my legs and I felt her lips suck my balls gently into her mouth then her tongue danced around my tightly puckered ass. I had experienced those sensations before but then the dancing tongue was replaced with a probing finger and the pleasant sensation was replaced with a combination of pleasure and pain as my prostate was massaged firmly. I clinched my fists and moaned as I felt fluid move through my cock and sweat break out on my face. 

Irene rolled me onto my back and cleaned me with her lips and tongue before straddling and kissing me. Her ass moved several times before trapping my hard cock and sliding it into her hot wet cunt. She raised her shoulders and brushed my face with her nipples. I was in heaven, for months I had dreamed of this experience and it had come true and it was everything I had imagined it would be. She would sit up straight and run her hands through her hair or cup her breasts and start slowly riding me, several times bringing me to the brink of orgasm then stopping and leaning forward to let me kiss and suckle her nipples. The sight of her sitting on me, back arched, breasts swaying as she moved her arms, nipples taunt was a beautiful sight to see. Finally she started a slow grind with her hips and worked up to a fever pitch of humping my cock. I let go and flooded her with cum. She milked me dry with her cunt before finally collapsing on my chest. 

It took several minutes before we recovered enough to move away from each other, cum had oozed from her and was drying on my thigh. We drifted off to sleep, exhausted from the long day at work and several hours of fucking.

I slowly woke to the smell of fresh coffee and the feel of Irene brushing her nipples over my face. She was fresh from the shower and dressed in a light robe. She told me to shower while she fixed us breakfast that she wanted to go to early Mass. I joined her at the table for a full course breakfast dressed in just my boxer shorts. I wasn't in the kitchen two minutes before I had a raging hard-on but I managed to enjoy my breakfast and the sight of Irene across the table with her robe open enough for me to see most of her breasts and her hard nipples against the silky material. 

After I finished eating I moved around the table and opened her robe and rubbed the head of my cock over her nipples. I reminded her how much I wanted to go down on her and taste her juicy cunt. We didn't make early or late Mass that morning but I did get to enjoy her sweet nectar and aroma while two of my fingers probed her tight ass.

We didn't have to be at work until 1:00 PM so we made good use of the time. I don't believe any other woman has been able to keep me so hard for so long, just being in her presence seemed to be all it took. When we got ready for work I got to watch as she put on her garter belt then her stockings, rolling each one slowly up her legs and fastened them to the garter belt which formed a perfect frame for her sweet ass and thick dark pubic hair. I held her clean, white cotton panties as she stepped into them and pulled them up her legs. She finished dressing and we hurried off to work so we could open the drug store on time. 

That was the only time we got to spend the night together but we did get to enjoy some hot petting and oral action by taking the long way home from time to time. I often found bright red lipstick on my limp dick when I got home from work. The only other time I got to enjoy going down on her was on the tailgate of my pick-up when we parked down by the French Broad River. I kept the pair of her white cotton panties from that evening in the glove box of that old truck for several years.



The Sodomante and the Mailman



The Addison's are the last stop on my route and for the last few years, Mrs. Addison always invites me in and we have lunch together. Just from her mail, I knew more about them than most of their neighbors, that's just what mailmen do. Still after so much time together, you tend to talk about more personal things as you get more comfortable with each other. I'll never forget the first time sex entered into our conversation, when Mattie complained about her husband's lack of interest in her. She said he had never been a passionate man and now she felt he thought that sex was a duty instead of a pleasure. 

Unexpectedly one day she asked me what turned me on and I stuttered and stalled trying to think of something more politically correct than what really turned me on the most. She saw right through this and assured me I wouldn't embarrass her no matter what I said. I told her that since I'd been married I had tried to talk my wife into anal sex. My wife always told me, that it was sodomy and against gods laws. What originally had been a desire was now a craving and almost the only thing I thought about sexually. I looked up to Mattie, red faced and expecting a look of disgust on her face but instead she looked more curious than mad.

"Bob have you ever had anal sex?"

When I shook my head no, she put her hand on my knee and looked into my eyes. 

"My first husband and I had anal a lot; he loved it, but William thinks it's dirty so we don't do it." 

I took her hand in mine and asked if that was an offer. As an answer, she kept my hand and walked me into their spare bedroom, grabbing the olive oil as we left her kitchen. 

"Mattie, I have to tell you one other thing that turns me on and that's a red head such as yourself."

"Come on, Bob I figured that out a long time ago, and wait until you see that the carpet matches the drapes."

It wasn't until after she undressed that I saw she was talking about her red pubic hair. 

She could see that I was nervous and she told me to relax and that we would go slowly. Both of us being in a monogamist relationship and thus safe we didn't need to worry, so no condoms which made me happy as well as her. It was so erotic to feel her hands on me as she coated me with oil, she then lay on her back and offered her bum for me to lubricate. As I ran my hand along her crack, I realized I was now going to achieve a desire that had been building in me for a long time. Once lubed, my finger slipped past her sphincter and into her anus with ease. She seemed completely comfortable so I put a second finger inside her. She began to moan and I stopped, thinking I was hurting her but she urged me on saying she was ready to orgasm.

Now ready for me she lifted her legs up over her head and thus spread her crack exposing her back door for me to take. I put the tip of my cock to her little rose bud being extra cautious, as I didn't want to cause any pain. She begged me to take her now, as she could wait no longer. In a rash moment I plunged deep inside her, I heard her scream but not in pain just passion. I was now beside myself with lust and I assaulted her rectum with abandon. I put my forearms on her thighs for leverage as I pounded repeatedly, hearing my balls slap against her ass. Mattie was as delirious as I was as she kept screaming that she was cumming over and over. When I told her I was near she begged me to cum in her ass and I obliged cumming while I was balls deep inside her.

It was only after I came that I noticed the mess we had made. Olive oil, cum and the residue from her bowels were now leaking around my flaccid cock and onto the bedspread. I looked for a towel or a tissue but in our haste, we had neglected to have anything like that around. Mattie began to laugh and saying the bedspread was already ruined we might as well use that for clean up. She wrapped herself in the spread then brought me a towel before excusing herself to go to the bathroom to freshen up. Once done she offered me the use of her shower, which I accepted. Within an hour, we were both clean and dressed and back in her kitchen.

We sat there drinking coffee not knowing what to say and I began to worry that we had put a strain on our friendship. We both had much to say but neither could think of a way of beginning it. Finally Mattie started,

"I know you must think horrid things about me and I apologize for taking advantage of you for my own wants. I am..."

"No Mattie, don't think that way, I feel you made a great sacrifice for me and I only hope we can at least remain friends."

This seemed to put her at ease and after another cup of coffee, I told her it was time to leave. Still a little unsure of where we now were I asked if I should stop by, tomorrow she answered,

"Be sure to bring another bottle of olive oil, we're almost out."



The Sofa



She pulled tentatively at the rope securing her left wrist and began to wonder what she'd gotten herself into. It had seemed so thrilling when he first led her into the room. Now, as she waited (for what?) the thrill was tinged with apprehension. She tried wiggling a foot, but that wasn't going anywhere either.

It seemed like ages since he had brought her in here. It was a small room with little furniture in it. In the center of the room sat a sofa; a heavy thing, overstuffed but solid. At the moment, it was the center of her universe. He had undressed her so carefully, unbuttoning her blouse and sliding it slowly down her arms, fingers trailing behind the thin silk against her bare skin. When he unbuttoned her pants they fell to the floor and she stepped out of them. His hands reached around her waist, sliding up her spine, making her shiver. And soon a lacy white bra was added to the pile of clothes on the floor. Her thin white panties were still on.

He had guided her to stand facing the back of the sofa and firmly pushed her forward over the back of it, holding her there with a strong hand on the small of her back. The rest had happened swiftly. He thrust a knee between her legs to spread them wide and tied her ankles to the back legs of the sofa with thick soft ropes. Then her wrists were pulled down and tied to the sofa's front legs. A blindfold completed her confinement. And now she waited, ass high and open beneath the stretched fabric of her panties. She could feel the blood rushing to her breasts as they hung over the seat cushions, nipples throbbing. 

At last she felt him approach, felt the heat of his body as he moved quietly around her. And then finally, a touch, as the palms of his hands grazed the swollen tips of her breasts. The hands cupped and held them, then the fingers slid down to the sensitive nipples and pinched them lightly, pulling on them and manipulating them with an unhurried patience. Her pussy twitched and moistened in response. In her mind she was already twisting and writhing but she couldn't move at all. The hands never stopped, but she felt something touch her lips. Reaching out with her tongue to explore, she encountered the swollen head of his cock and licked at the precum that was already forming at the little slit. He eased his cock into her mouth and she eagerly sucked him in. His hands continued stroking, squeezing, pinching her nipples and she thought she might climax from that alone and moaned around his throbbing shaft. She could feel him growing harder in her mouth, the sounds of his ragged, excited breathing and the wet suction of her lips adding to the moist heat building under her white panties. She could sense that he was dangerously close to his own climax. But he pulled out of her mouth with a groan before that could happen and stepped away, leaving her suddenly alone and waiting again, this time trembling and aching with unsatisfied desire. 

Soon she sensed he was near again and felt a hand on her breast again. She gasped as she felt a clamp close over the tender flesh of a nipple. The other nipple followed. They weren't overly tight, but they were weighted so that they tugged and swayed with her slightest movement – a constant reminder of her helpless position. He ran his hands over the soft skin of her breasts and up the length of her throat, tracing the line of her jaw, caressing her cheek, her hair. She leaned into his hand, turning her face to suck on his fingers. He moved away again.

The next contact was the shock of a hand on her inner thigh, just above the knee. Her pussy clenched and she could feel how wet she was as her swollen lips moved against the thin fabric. The hand slid slowly up her thigh, followed by his hot tongue. His breath on her skin made her tremble and pant with anticipation but the hand and the tongue skipped over her aching pussy and continued down the other thigh. Soon both hands were traveling up her outer thighs to her hips and across her ass. And at long last, a finger lightly ran down the center, a single stroke through her panties from ass to clit. She gasped and stiffened at the electricity of that touch. Then she waited once more, quivering.

Suddenly, she felt his hand grasp the edge of her panties at the hip. There was a brief touch of cold metal and the sound of snip. He'd cut them apart and slowly peeled away the thin fabric, letting the ruined garment slide down the other leg, exposing her completely. She pulled at the ropes binding her wrists and ankles, desperate to move, but they held fast. She had never in her life felt so naked and vulnerable.

A finger traced the wetness of one of her labia from back to front and then to back again along the other side. Her pussy clenched so hard it ached. The finger continued it's patient exploration of the folds and swellings of her sex. She desperately wanted the finger to slip inside and ease the ache there, but he was in no hurry. More fingers joined the first, spreading her lips, uncovering the pink bud of her clit and she groaned aloud his tongue ran the length of her slit. And then there was no escaping the steady, relentless flicking of his tongue across her quivering clit. On and on it went as she strained at the ropes, shook, sweated, moaned and finally came, screaming again and again, unable to stop the overwhelming shocks racing through her body. 

Then, before she could recover, before the wrenching convulsions of her climax could begin to subside, his cock was at her entrance, thrusting into her shuddering pussy. Her screams rose to a new level as he slid in and out in long steady strokes. The pressure of his hard cock sawing against her g-spot drove her beyond rational thought. She was afraid she'd lose consciousness as wave after wave of orgasm swept her away on a sea of overwhelming sensation. 

His hands were gripping her ass, spreading it wide to gain the deepest access to her soaking, clenching pussy. She could feel his excitement rising, his cock getting harder and swelling, his movements more impassioned, his breath ragged and she felt a new pressure rising inside herself at the same time, pushing back against his violent thrusts, building to a shattering explosion. He moved one hand to slick it with her juices and just before he came, he slid a wet finger into the tight star of her asshole. The dam broke. She shook uncontrollably as the hot fluid of her final climax mingled with the hot jets of his climax and rained down their legs. 

When he had emptied himself completely inside her he laid his body gently over her sweaty back, brushed the wet hair aside and kissed her neck tenderly. They lay together, still joined, bodies still twitching and shuddering as they slowly calmed. Then he untied her bonds and gathered her in his arms. They slept cuddled together on the sofa until dawn when she woke with thoughts of thick soft ropes binding his wrists and ankles.



The Sofa



Once again, my secret lover, humor me. I enjoy sharing my fantasies with you. I hope you get as much enjoyment from them as I do.

It's two o'clock and you have stopped by for coffee. French Vanilla of course. We sit on the couch, you leaning up against one sofa arm with your legs stretched out the length of the cushions, I at the other end with my legs between yours and the back of the sofa. We sip our coffee and talk of your busy schedule as I listen intently, enjoying the sound of your voice.

I close my eyes and sigh ever so slightly. Raising my left leg up and resting my bare foot on the top of the couch, I know exactly what I am doing and what I hope you are thinking. It has been three achingly painful weeks since we made love. I want to feel you inside me more than I need to breathe. Just the thought makes my nipples erect as I imagine your lips teasing them to attention. You are still speaking of the work you have remaining and how you can't stay long seemingly oblivious to my longings. As you lean over to set your cup down, I pull the zipper completely down on my sweater spreading it open exposing my breasts for your inspection. There is a sudden silence. I open my eyes finding yours hungrily taking in the rising and falling of my chest.

I want you to come to me, but you remain where you are watching for what I might do next. I slide both my hands up my sides until each is caressing and squeezing it's own breast. A sigh of passion escapes my lips which are partly open and inviting. Still you remain where you are. I close my eyes and sink further into my fantasy, wanting you to come with me to its desired conclusion. After licking my fingers and gently pinching my nipples, I peek to see if you are still with me. I see your hand, still on the outside of your white workpants, pressing down on your growing erection. Your eyes still engrossed in the work my hands are performing.

With my eyes closed, I slide my hands down to my jeans and feel the heat as I unzip my pants and slide them down to my ankles as you pull them the rest of the way off my legs. I inhale suddenly at the slight touch of your hand on my calf. That desired first touch, promising more. My left foot is now resting on your chest. As I slide my right hand under my pink cotton and lace panties, you can see from your vantage point my panties are already soaking wet. My fingers searching for those special areas, I settle my hips deeper into the couch unaware my breathing is heavier. My chest rising a bit higher with each inhalation. I crave the feel of your full length slowly sliding into me as I spread the moisture from my slit over my lips and onto my clit unable to resist lingering there enjoying the tingle of my own touch. 

I feel movement on the sofa and open my eyes to find you undoing your belt, your button and zipper as I stare at your crotch waiting to see what I have been craving for three long weeks. As you slide your pants down, your erection is now more than evident. I slide my finger into my slit, imagining your body pressing down on top of me as you slide into my hot wet pussy, an exhale of passion racing from my mouth. But still you remain where you are. Knowing your denial of my desire only fuels my excitement. 

Hastily, my hips lift off the couch to discard my panties. My left foot now resting back on your chest, the right next to your left hip, careful not to obstruct your view of the pleasures located between my thighs. You can see the familiar heart shape in my pubic hair and the way I play gently and tug at the hairs there with my fingers. You can no longer stand it and begin stroking your beautiful shaft glistening in its own precum. I can imagine the taste as I watch intently as you show me how you pleasure yourself. 

My legs, fully spread, as I reach down now with both hands and trace the insides of my labia with both index fingers. You can see the wetness shine on my finger tips as I spread my moisture over the surface areas. Then I place the three middle fingers on both hands at the mouth of my lips spreading them back gently to expose the pink skin underlying the black hairs. I pull the the lips back in such a way as to allow you to see my clit and I watch your eyes to make sure you are looking at what I want you to see. As I begin rubbing around my clit with my right hand in the way that feels the most pleasurable.

While we are both focused on our own pleasure, we are duely noting each others technique. You see the motion, the size of the circles, the pressure, the speed, every detail. I see your shaft thicken as I watch how you massage it, the speed, the tightness of your hand. I watch what your other hand is doing. Rubbing your thigh, teasing your tightening sack. My breasts are rising and falling quicker now than ever before and your hand is starting to stroke yourself in earnest. My hips, cannot stay quiet and begin to alternately push into the couch and then move upwards to apply counter-pressure to my fingers as they work their magic on my pussy. Somehow by focusing on your movements I am able to relax enough to allow the familiar signs of an approaching orgasm begin to take hold. Our respective stroking keeping pace with each other. 

I can tell I am approaching the point of no return. You sit up. In the heat of the moment, you suddenly stand before me at the side of the couch, as I continue my work. My breathing now rapid and deep, I emit passionate sounds from my lips. I hear your intense breathing and I know from your familiar sounds you too are at the brink. Still stroking yourself, never taking your eyes from my fingers or my face. I am staring at you now, at your cock, noting it's swelling and sensing we are not far from coming. If you wanted, you could take me right now, face me and position your knees so you could bend and lift my hips to meet yours, deftly inserting your cock into the full hilt of my sacred scabbard. But this time, the pleasure is in the temptation refused, to be so close and yet far, to drive each other mad with forbidden pleasure like two teens desperately trying to maintain their last vestiges of virginity.

I see your cock in hand, steadily stroking only 10 or 12 inches from my very wet and swollen pussy. I continue to rub with abandon coming quickly now. My hips begin to buck and I cry out your name repeatedly, my hips thrusting upwards to meet your imaginary thrust as the two strain to become one. My thighs and tummy quivering uncontrollably now and I moan with the deepest pleasure. Your own orgasm feeling ropelike as you explode a continuous stream of warm cum out, and down onto my busy hands, my already wet pussy and bucking tummy. I continue to writhe in pleasure, rubbing my clit, your cum adding to my own explosion of moisture. You pull yourself harder, feeling each contraction ripple through your body. You lean over me so far, holding yourself up by only one arm. Our voices mixing as we sigh and moan in a heated duet. You lower your face to touch my searching lips in one final gesture of passion after having longed for them so desperately all the while. Our tongues meet and then our mouths lock together as you slump your full body weight down onto me in complete and utter satisfied exhaustion.

We lie there, I still throbbing and quivering, you still throbbing and twitching, your penis pressed firmly into my tummy. We lie there breathing deeply and slowly, ever so slowly ascending back down to earth. We are quiet. My arms surround you and hold you there and we melt into each other until we must move to the shower before we are discovered.



The Soft Sub



Day 1

They were partners like any other couple, both worked, shared activities and talked of goals equal in every way except one. The bedroom when it came to their sex lives; Avril a red head with cute girlish looks, large breasts and sensitive nipples was a insatiable submissive who loved to be tied up, teased and humiliated privately. Bobby was taller, thin and had long red/black hair and a large cock. He loved doing all the wicked things Avril loved till he drove her crazy with desire. Now they had a large collection of toys from simple oils and ropes to restraint outfits and a range of dildo's. Which all came out to play on a regular basis. Now I'm sure you can imagine all sorts of delights that I could write about though this story is not about what happens in their bedroom, well mostly not.

This story starts when Avril comes home one Saturday after lunch with the girls to find a letter on the door side table and as she put down her bag she sees the letter, slowly picks it up and starts to read. And this is what it said;-

My dearest Avril, 

I believe we have come to a point in our sex lives where we are not doing anything different or adventurous and I know that is a part of your submissive nature to want to go deeper and feel the thrill of letting go. What I am going to propose takes our sex life out of the bedroom and into our lives. I am going to lay out some rules for you to follow, which if followed I know I can bring you into desire you have not even dreamed of. When finished reading the rules just let me know the answer by walking through the door following the first rule.

Rules;-

1. Whenever we are alone or you are by yourself in this house you must be naked. 

2. You are not to wear underwear (bra/panties) at anytime unless I give them to you except when you are on your cycle. 

3. You are never to stop me from touching you. 

4. You're not to touch yourself unless I request it. 

5. You are only to wear skirts and you need to check with me to see if I want to pick something for you. 

6. You are not to say no to any sexual desire/activity. 

7. If there is anything you are truly not enjoying your safe word is "white". 

Now contemplate this and decide on the manner you wish to walk through the door. Love always and forever Bobby. 

Avril was surprised, excited, nervous and most of all turned on by this and admittedly decided to submit to these rules. She practically fell out of her clothes, and in a instant was naked; while she was still holding the letter she walked through to her partner Bobby.

Bobby heard the door open and with baited breath waited to see Avril appear. As she rounded the bend Bobby's grin turned as wicked as Avril's was sweet. As she stepped up to him, he quickly grabbed her hands and twisted them behind her back and kissed her forcefully on the lips, which she returned with vigour. Then the oven timer went off and Bobby released her and pointed to a chair for her to sit in, and he went to serve tea. They both ate and watched TV; after dinner both moved to the lounge where Avril was quivering with excitement. 

After a while of Bobby not paying attention to her she began to relax, and at that moment Bobby reached over and flicked her nipple; he kept his hand there, holding and squeezing her tit. He did this for 30 minutes swapping between tits, keeping Avril's nipples hard. Then he pushed her hands to the back of her hips and attached them to handcuffs that were already linked to the lounge. 

This caused Avril's breathing to quicken and lust filled her eyes as she started to wiggle her hips as Bobby stood in front and unzipped his jeans to unleash his hard cock. Bobby just grinned at her and stated "I've not even started yet, so don't think you're going to get off anytime soon. I, on the other hand can!" 

With that he thrusts his cock into her slightly parted lips forcing her to take him to the hilt. Avril gagged a bit but adjusted quickly and started deep throating Bobby eagerly with him holding the back of her head. It did not take long for him to cum pumping his hot seed down her throat. Once she had sucked him clean he smiled wickedly and stated "now we can start the fun!" 

Bobby traced a line on Avril with his finger tip from nose, collarbone, belly button, circled around her pussy and drifted down the inside of her leg to under her big toe. Avril was quivering with anticipation as Bobby unlocked the cuffs and slid one wrist out and pulled the other so the cuff came off, and he led her to the bedroom by gripping a cuff in one hand and a nipple in the other. 

Once at the bedroom he lay Avril down on her back and clicked all cuffs into place to have her spread eagle on the satin sheets. He then placed a black silk blindfold over her eyes. Then he positioned candles hanging from the bed over hang and he tilted them to drip just above her nipples and below her belly button. He lit the candles and walked out of the room. 

Avril felt Bobby leave the room; she knew there were candles lit above her as the first drop hit just above her right nipple she let out a gasp then a second drop at bellybutton level which made her tense further. These drops continued, and as the candle burnt the drops hit Avril lower and lower she was panting hard when they fell and hardened on her aroused nipples. It felt like her nipples were being softly but continually pinched. 

Just then the first drop fell on the hood of her clit and rolled down to harden just around her nub, which made Avril rise her hips against the restraints. At that moment Bobby stepped up beside her and quickly licked her clit with his tongue. It was ice cold from the bit of ice in his mouth which he had softened the edges of, now and in one quick movement he pushed it deep into her quivering pussy. 

Avril gave a long high pitched squeal as her body lifted and strained against the restraints. Then once she had quietened to heavy panting Bobby started to peel the harded wax off Avril's tits and belly, all the while lightly tickling and licking her where the smooth wax had left her very sensitive, then once all but one bit of wax was left (around her clit) Bobby walked to the end of the bed and turned a fan on low. 

Avril could feel it on her damp tits and tummy, but most of all on her wet pussy which just inflamed her need to come. Just as she was calming down a little and got her breathing nearly under control Bobby leaned back down and attacked her clit with his tongue. As he did so he moved so his cock was right at her entrance, and he peeled off the ring of wax that was squeezing her clit and sucked her clit hard like a mini cock, and as she succumbed to the rising orgasm and was taken over by it, when she was right in the throes of passion Bobby thrusted his cock in to the hilt and came instantly, and came hard as they both came down from 3 hours of pure passion. 

Bobby untied Avril and she stood up and opened her nightie drawer. Bobby just touched her arm and said "rule no. 1" and Avril smiled and lay down under the covers naked next to her love and they drifted into a deep sleep together.


Day 2

Avril awoke to find that Bobby was already up, and as she sat up a piece of paper moved in front on the covers. Just with a glance she recognises it as the rules from Bobby's letter, and suddenly everything from yesterday comes back with a rush that brings a tingle to her pussy which spreads throughout her body. Avril gets out of bed and walks to the kitchen to find Bobby making an omettle for them both. He reaches out and tugs on her nipple to bring her close, whispering "go lay on the table I want to taste Avril omlette." 

With a giggle Avril lays out on the table. Bobby comes over and spreads a line of filling (bacon, chesse and some egg mix) in a line from collarbone to belly button. And with slow messy licks ate all the topping from belly button to collarbone, all the while tickling the inside of her thighs. This all made Avril gasp and squirm and she could feel the heat rising inside her. As he finished he told Avril to sit down and they ate breakfast together talking about the plans for their week getaway next month. As they finished Bobby told Avril they were going down town and to have a shower and put some clothes on. 

Avril had a quick shower and came out with her towel drying herself off, and Bobby was laying back on the bed watching her. As normal Avril went to her underwear draw and opened it to find 80% of it missing, only her sexy undies and bras were left. Picking up a matching red set she turns to look at Bobby who just says "rule no.2" and glances at his feet were the rules lie. With a gasp Avril begins to understand the larger meaning of these words and turns around and places the underwear back and shuts the drawer. Then asks Bobby "is there something you would like me to wear today?" 

Bobby grins as he knows exactly what Avril should wear. "The white layer skirt that comes to your knees and the tight red low cut strap top". Avril finds these items and gets dressed, admitting to herself Bobby has nice taste and she is a little relived as she was expecting him to pick something more slutty.

As they walk out the door there was a breeze and it lifted Avril dress up and out a few inches showing off her thighs. Avril gasped and looked up at Bobby about to say she will go back and change, realising with the gleam in his eye and that wicked smile she knew he had planned this. Bobby reached down and slipped his hand under the waist of her skirt to rest on her arse and turned and said " if you move to hold your skirt down before it has risen and is on its down woods fall, I will flick your hem down to my finger tips" which at that point were resting on the underside of her arse. Avril took a deep breath and started to walk down the path with Bobby matching her stride with his hand still under her hem.

As they walked down the street the wind varied from time to time, and suddenly one big gust came and blew Avril's skirt right up to the hem; Avril blushed and glanced about but there was no one in site, though she could tell a slight bulge in Bobby pants, it was no rival to the heat she was feeling. Bobby looked down at her and squeezed her arse and smiled. 

Avril slowly smoothed her dress down as they headed around the bend. Here was the small shopping centre of their suburb which they visited sometimes to grab some takeaway. Bobby turned Avril around so she had her back to a wall and began passionatly kissing her, while bringing his hands up to tease her nipples which soon had Avril twisting slightly in his grasp. He broke away and wrapped his hand around her waist (just finger tips under her dress hem) and they walked into the sweet store. 

Bobby walked Avril up and down the front counter untill the young boy noticed that Avril's nipples were clearly showing through her top, and as his eyes travelled down to Bobbys fingers under her skirt showing just a bit of hip and he immedlly realised what he was doing and looked up at Bobby a little nervously, who just smiled back showing that he was free to look and enjoy. As they picked some sweets he saw the boy try to take a few glances down her top which Avril did not shy from. Once Bobby pressed her lower back a tad and she leaned just a little lower to point to some sweets near the back. This made the boy lose his train of thought as he spotted the edge of her erect nipple and she had to repeat herself. With that they paid and walked out.

Once they got outside Avril let out a huge rush of air and smiled up at Bobby who feed her a gummi lolly while pressing himself agaist Avril at the side of the shops for another kiss. He grabbed a chocolate ball and slipped his hand under her hem and inserted the chocolate into her pussy. This made Avril's pussy

twitch and she grabbed his fingers slightly before he pulled them out and ended the kiss, and slowly licked his fingers. They slowly walked towards home again about half way they came across a little bunch of trees which Bobby lead them over to, and once inside the ring he kneeled down and slipped his head under Avril's skirt and begain licking up her thigh where the chocolate had run too, making his way to the chocolatly centre. As Avril begain to shake Bobby looked up and told her to grab the branch above her head. As she did that he grabbed her hips till her legs were around his waist and released his cock under her dress and plunged it into her wanting pussy. All he needed was a few stokes since he was not wanting Avril to get any release just yet. He let go pumping his seed to her dripping pussy so it mixed with the chocolate and her arousal, while pinching her nipple to make sure it did not put Avril over the edge. As he pulled out, they held each other until they gained their breath back. They finished the walk back home hand in hand, as Avril was wondering what Bobby could possiblly have planned for her next.

After they got home and Avril undressed at the door. She was directed to sit on the lounge and rest. As she sat down Bobby went to the bed room and came back with some ties and motioned for Avril to lay on her side. Firstly he placed a pillow so she could see the tv comfortably, then he tied her hands behind her back and put a couple pillows between her knees so she could not put any pressure on her pussy, and he tied her knees down to the lounge. He inserted a disc of her favorite tv show and went to leave the room but Avril called out "please i am so horny please let me cum, my pussy feels like its on fire as well as the rest of me. Let me fuck you!" Bobby grinned and said, "in a while my love, in a while." Every once in a while Bobby would come past and squeeze her tits or finger her pussy or tickle her where ever he felt like it at the time. This taunting kept her enough on edge to start begging nearly every time he turned to go out of the room, although the response was always the same "in a while my love, in a while." 

After the disc had finished Bobby came out and helped Avril sit up and sat down beside her. He moved the pillows and began the slow caresses again but did not pull away this time, and seeing the total lust in Avril's eyes he swung her down beneath him and released his pulsing cock and placed it just infront of her pulsing pussy as she rose up trying to met it in vain. Bobby smiled at her wickedly while she stared at him trying not to wimper in need. 

Then he lowers down and fucks her slowly and starts to speed up as Avril's moaning gets louder and as he starts to feel himself getting close he starts fingering Avrils clit which makes her scream out loud as they both cum together.

By this time it was 5pm and Bobby announced they had plans for this evening, which now it was time to get ready for. They both showered togther and after Avril was dry she stood in front of Bobby waiting for him to tell her what to wear. When he pulled out one of her evening gowns a long red shimmering halter neck with a plunging gathered/loose neck line. Avril's first throught was "my... where are we going" and secondly "somewhere this classy least my body may get a chance to come down off this high" but oh was she ever wrong.

Bobby left her with the dress and said to pick shoes and do her hair and makeup and pick some nice jewellery. After she was dressed she came out to Bobby and he told her to hike up her dress and to spread her legs. Then he bent down and inserted some round objects – 3 into her pussy and at the end were attached 2 fine cords which had a little plate that rested on her pussy. He wrapped the ties around her legs and said "thats to hold them in when you get horny". Avril throught these balls were a bit strange as she had never seen them before, but as she dropped her dress and walked to the door admittedly she realised to her horror that at every step they moved togther, and rubbed differently every step she took. She looked up at Bobby with a slightly pleading look he simply grinned and took her by the hand and led her to the car. Avril looked like she had walked out of a glamour magazine but inside she felt like like a slut, Avril smiled and sat down in the front seat. 

Avril and Bobby chatted in the car when they went over a bump she could feel the balls shift inside her. When they pulled up she saw the sign "reading, dinner and dancing with Phillip Pullman" and her eyes lit up and gave Bobby a warm smile "I cant belive you got tickets to this," "all for you my love, with a little in it for me," Bobby breathed in her ear while reaching one hand up and under her dress to brush over her clit. Avril composed herself and got out of the car with Bobby taking her hand they walked inside together. With every step she could feel the balls moving which made her breath slightly shallow. They walked around the floor which held long tables around the outside with the small stage in the middle of the dance floor. As they walked and mingled Avril could not forget about the rolling balls as they drank. Avril knew she was getting close to the edge from the constant torment. 

Just then the voiceover advised to take their places. Just before Avril was about to sit Bobby hit the power and put it to the 2nd level of vibrations. Just as well there was her chair beside her as she pretty much fell into it. Then she looked up at Bobby who was grinning at her. As Philip started all heads turned his way. Bobby turned down the vibration to the first setting which gave Avril hope she could control herself. On the next applause Bobby switched it up to next control setting, the pulse. Avril gave a sharp gasp but kept watching the talk. Bobby reached around and placed his hand on her hip while doing small circles around her hip bone. Just as he felt her start to twich he turned the balls movements off. Avril gave a sigh of relief with the realisation that this would just be the height of it and Bobby was not going to push her over the edge. Little did she realise this was only half the torment of the night. 

Bobby let her body fully relax as they finished the talk and dinner was served. As the conversation expand to other people around the table and Phillip started to walk about having one on one chats. He flicked the balls to vibrate just as Phillip came up behind her which made her jump and blush. As she chatted with him while keeping herself composed Bobby turned it back up to pulse which made Avril give a quick intake of breath an a large fake smile to Phillip who praised her on her looks and moved on. Avril was slightly rocking in her chair as the music started and Bobby pulled her to her feet. As they danced Bobby hit the next level which was a uneven pulse. Which made her moan, "you are a devil, I am so close" in his ear. After 20 seconds he stopped it dead and they started swing dancing to music which made the balls roll and bang inside her which was enough to keep her on the edge. 

As they passed off partners Bobby watched until Avril was with Phillip and flicked it back to pulse. This had her twitching and made her breath quicken but she still managed to keep dancing and stay in control of herself, Bobby made sure he was next in place and as Avril spun into his arm she held him tight and let go. She only made soft sounds reduced by biting and moaning into Bobby's neck. She was twitching and shaking but holding on to Bobby so tight no one else could tell (not that she realised, Avril body had taken over and she was past caring) then Bobby wrapped his arm around her waist and led her back to their seat and ordered her a pinapple and midori, which as soon as it arrived Avril drank without drawing a second breath. 

Bobby wispered in her ear, "now I'm going to turn them back on we are going to walk out of here, go home and I'm going to fuck you senseless." Avril moaned with antisapation and her eyes deepened with need until Bobby added with a smirk " unless you cum before we reach home, in which case I will have to delay and torment you some more." As Avril felt the balls start to hum she took Bobby's hand and they walked out. Avril smilied not knowing which ending she was hoping for.