0 comments/ 71532 views/ 3 favorites Wish You Were Here By: Jaaayde Jack stared out at the ocean; it sparkled and frothed and rippled as it met the sand- teeming with life. Who knew what cute and dangerous creatures lurked out there- what hidden treasures lay at the bottom, long forgotten? It was beautiful, awash with colour and life. There was really nowhere he would rather be. The sun was setting- hanging in the balance just on the fringes of the horizon- soothing the tired world by releasing waves of otherworldly colour for all to bathe in. Soon it would drop below, and hide for the night, leaving the sky free for the cool moon and the stars- the only proof of its existence wispy trails of red and orange scouring the sparse clouds. The remainder of the light was reflected on the ocean- a wash of watery beads, each unique. Jack turned as he heard approaching footsteps in the sand, happy to see his lover. As Dan got closer, Jack turned once again to watch the show, feeling arms possessively snake around his waist and fingers brush lightly and deliberately over the skin of his abdomen. Jack entwined his own fingers in that roaming hand, and leant back against the other boy, allowing Dan to support his entire weight. He trusted Dan. Dan would never drop him. Jack squeezed his hand lightly, and then spun himself around to face the other boy- claiming his lips in a kiss before he had a chance to complain. Not that Dan would complain. Reluctantly breaking the kiss, Jack looked up at Dan. Deep, beautiful emerald orbs met his gaze- drenching him in that warm feeling of possession. Their faces stood centimetres apart, Dan’s messy brown locks tickling both their foreheads. Jack breathed in as Dan breathed out; Dan breathed in as Jack breathed out. They were a part of each other in every way. Dan moved in towards him this time, locking them together- feeding at Jack’s mouth like he hadn’t eaten in years. Jack lapped up that flavour and scent that was Dan- fresh grass, diesel and something else musky and masculine that Jack had never quite been able to put his finger on- no matter how many times he sampled it. Jack didn’t know what he had done to deserve someone so perfect. His body melted into Dan’s, aligning with his cut form perfectly. He was the best he was ever had, and Dan thought just the same of him. Dan’s warm hands traced faint circles on his bare back as Jack’s arms wrapped around his neck- bare chests pressed together. Even though they were on a beach, and could be seen by anyone, all Jack wanted was to make every part of their bare skin touch. And he knew Dan had something along the same lines in mind as well. And, sure as Jack had predicted, he soon felt Dan’s hand slip down to his hip, and tug downwards lightly. He crouched down and lay backwards, as Jack fell atop him- somehow managing not to break the joining of their lips. Dan wrapped his arms around him again quickly, holding him close and rolling him over so his back pressed against the coarse sand. Dan pulled back slightly and pressed one last firm kiss on Jack’s lips before moving down, planting soft butterfly kisses in a line across Jack’s jaw and down his neck. Nimble hands moved to Jack’s chest, pausing at each nipple, and tweaking lightly- sending Jack arching off the sand. The thumbs continued to circle as the mouth moved down lower and lower- still kissing and licking and every now and then nipping a path across Jack’s stomach. One hand moved from Jack’s chest down to slip into the waistband of Jack’s black swimming trunks- and he could do nothing but pant and watch as they were slowly peeled off his form, freeing his already dripping arousal. Dan moved up his body once again, and caught Jack’s eyes in a stifling gaze- making sure Jack knew well and truly what he was about to do as his warm mouth hovered tantalizingly over the head of his cock. Smirking devilishly, Dan sunk down- leaving Jack helpless. The smaller boy’s hands twitched and buried themselves in spiky brown bangs. Dan drew up once more, sucking gently and licking all the way- eliciting a pleasured moan from Jack’s lips. The captive glanced up, checking in the general direction of the hotel to see if anyone had heard- but his eyes snapped shut as Dan began to move, working harder. Whimper after cry after moan was forced from Jack’s mouth- leaving him in all abandon that someone might actually be watching, lost in his own gorgeous ocean of pleasure. Dan sucked and swirled his tongue expertly, wrapping his hand around what wouldn’t fit in his mouth and bracing himself by keeping his other hand planted firmly on Jack’s thigh. But now, he moved that hand down slightly to momentarily fondle with Jack’s balls, and then slip lower to find the boy’s not-so-hidden entrance. Jack didn’t even register the first, lubricated intruder- he was too close. It was only with the arrival of Dan’s third digit that he did realise momentary discomfort- but he was soon away again in a world of bliss… so close… Dan’s fingers brushed lightly against that spot inside him- and Jack’s body was once again wrenched away from the sand with a beseeching cry- just at the same instance as his soft lips left Jack’s cock. Jack whimpered as the cool night air taunted his arousal- where his lover could have been. Dan climbed up Jack’s chest- Jack’s hands still entwined in his hair, and his fingers still wriggling inside Jack. Dan leant forward and kissed his lover again, Jack could taste himself of his lips- bitter and salty. “Ready?” asked Dan. Jack could only bite his lip and nod enthusiastically as he gazed into pools of green. Dan smirked once again at his ability to drive this beauty wild. They truly did belong to each other. Dan finally withdrew his fingers and knelt between Jack’s outstretched legs- their eyes meeting once more. Jack frowned as he just sat there looking at him and managed to pant out, “For Christ’s sake, just fuck me, Dan!” He could never refuse a direct order- and he plunged deep into that tight cavern of warmth that he loved so much, producing an impassioned cry of his own. Jack clutched at Dan as he drove into him- a string of incoherent curses and pleas escaping his lips throughout it all. Dan smirked, knowing his lovers verbal incontinence- and silencing him by claiming his lips as he claimed his body- fancifully carving a rut in the sand with their movements. Jack moaned into his mouth- and as Dan drew back for breath he heard his own name escape the impassioned boys lips. Knowing his control wasn’t going to last much longer, Dan’s hand found Jack’s cock sandwiched between them- and fingers roughly circled it- only having time to pump it once before Jack’s hands clenched at his back and he cried out in ecstasy. Jack’s hot essence shot out all over their chests and stomachs, and Dan’s hand- and Dan matched his cries as Jack’s muscles convulsed around him- allowing one last thrust up into that lithe body before also bringing himself to release. Dan lay atop Jack, both panting and waiting patiently for their heart rates to return to normal. Jack was the first to open his eyes and kiss his lover tenderly, glancing around at the aftermath. “Dan…” he whispered. The larger boy propped himself up on one elbow and looked at him questioningly. “Where are our clothes?” Wish You Were Here Baby I wish you had been here. It was steaming hot, the first truly hot day of the summer and I was alone in a hotel room with a noisy air conditioner and an itch I just couldn't scratch myself. I had packed quickly for this trip and forgot to include my bag of toys. Alone no toys and as horny as I have ever been. This was the predicament I found myself in. I had woken up horny; it was getting worse as the morning wore on. I was going nuts. I wanted, actually need to get fucked but that was out of the question. I didn't know anyone in this town and i8 didn't have time to go find someone suitable. I tried using my hands but that was a tease and made things worse than ever. I was climbing the walls Baby. I needed your tongue licking me flicking my clit and nibbling gently with your sharp teeth. Rubbing your fingers in and out of my well-moistened pussy while I squirm and twist urging my body to release. But, you're not here. I am alone. I decided to try a trick I used to use when I was a kid and had not toys. Walking naked and panting with heat and passion into the tiled bathroom I turned the bathtub taps on full force and adjusted the temperature for coolness. I shivered with anticipation as I lowered myself into the cooling tub and placed my feet on the wall beside the taps. I wiggled down until the flow of water was pounding directly onto my clit. It felt so good Baby. But it wasn't good enough. I was ready to go off like a rocket but I couldn't find the right switch. I was stuck in heat and getting hotter and the water wasn't working. Baby I was so frustrated, I needed to cum. As I lay there pinching at my fully swollen nipples a flash went off, I remembered something. There was a sex shop about a block and a half down the street from my hotel. I had noticed it after dinner the night before. I hurried out of the bath and did not even pause to dry off or put on underwear. I tossed a long cotton dress over my head and took off for the store quickly my hard wet nipples poking through the thin fabric of my dress. The effort of walking quickly in the hot humid air brought a sweat out on my already fevered body. I walked fast. I was on a mission. I scanned every man I passed as a potential toy but this was a rougher end of town and I found nothing that was of interest and very shortly arrived at the store. It was lovely and cool inside, but I was still hot and raging with need. The sight of all the beautiful toys and clothing was breath taking. Feeling like a kid in a candy store I went from one sexy display to another. There were dildos and whips, lingerie and cuffs, anal beads and nipple clamps. I was in heaven. The prices were reasonable but I was on a limited budget this trip. Standing alone drooling over the merchandise, chest heaving I must have looked quite a sight. Anyone would be able to tell at a glance that I was needy, very needy. I heard a soft voice behind me speaking over my left shoulder, her breath hot on my neck. Damn I was horny. I was almost ready to play with the sales girl if she were so inclined. She was so nice and helpful. She wanted to help me find just what I needed. I explained my predicament in brief, to which she promptly replied, "So basically you just need a clit stimulator?" she half queried half stated. Damn Baby, I nearly creamed when she said that! I loved how candid she was able to be about my need. We walked together over to her cash desk she gestured to the display case beside it. There right on the counter in plain view was the toy she had in mind. A tiny silver bullet. No more than 2 inches long and maybe an inch in diameter sat shining on a purple velvet pad. Perfect I thought as she demonstrated its power on the palm of my left hand. I was entranced by the intensity of the vibration. I paid as quickly as I could and nearly ran back to my room. I ached to try my new toy; the lust fever was upon me as strongly as ever. My dress was off and hitting the floor before the door of my room had even closed, then grabbing a narrow rounded plastic shampoo bottle and a pair of hair clips I went to the chair near the air conditioner which happened to be alongside the floor to ceiling picture window in my suite and moved it in front of the window. Placing my naked throbbing body into the chair I swung my long lean legs over the arms of the chair to maximize my exposure (you know what an exhibitionist I am at heart) and accessibility. I paused to savour the moment then plunged the shampoo bottle into my gaping gash. Moaning softly I eased the bottle in and out, twisting it as I did so. Oh Baby it felt soooo good. I was pretending it was you pushing the invader in and out trying to drive me into frenzy. As my pleasure grew I added the hair clips to my nipples and felt an instant surge in my by now desperate clit. I carefully turned on my new bullet and as I reached a fever pitch I applied it directly to my swollen female member. I exploded screaming out loud I nearly flew out of the chair. I came so hard my body was shaking my moans were out of control. Oh how I wish you could have been watching! Gradually I calmed down and was able to get on with my day. I will never go anywhere without my trusty little bullet in my purse. Baby I can't wait to share it with you, and believe me you'll love what I'm going to do to you with that little silver bullet. Wish You Were Here She stepped into the apartment and for the millionth time that day she wished he were here. She slipped off her heels and pushed the button on the answering machine as she walked towards their bedroom. The sound of his voice on the machine stopped her in her tracks. He missed her so much, he said. He had just wanted to hear her voice. He thought he might be able to come home early. He asked her to think good thoughts, laughed and he was gone. She wished now that she hadn't gone out for dinner with the girls. She would have been home for his call. She reached the bedroom and undressed quickly, Black leather skirt, red silk blouse, black lace and satin bra and panties and black stockings lay in a pile on the floor as she crawled into bed. She laid on her back, naked and thought about him, about his touch, his feel. She massaged her breasts wishing it were his hands. She gently pulled at her nipples imagining it was him making them so hard, so erect. Her fingers trailed down her chest, her stomach till they reached the center of her womanhood. She thought about his hands, his mouth, his manhood and felt the dampness grow within her. She closed her eyes and willed him into the room. She thought she could smell his musky scent and when she opened her eyes again he was looking down at her from the side of the bed. He was standing there in only his jeans and she stared at him, always amazed at how just looking at him could stir her the way it did. He offered his hands to her and helped her to sit up on the edge of the bed. She reached out and ran her hands across his chest. She loved to touch him. Her fingers ran through the hair on his chest and drifted down his stomach. Her hand touched his manhood and she caressed it through his jeans, looking up into his face to see the reaction she would get. His eyes were closed and she heard him moan quietly. She undid the button on his jeans. Slowly she unzipped them, knowledgeable that here was nothing underneath them but him. She kissed his stomach and felt him shiver. She slid his jeans down over his hips releasing his hardening cock and pushed them on to the floor. She caressed him and stroked him. His hands rested on her shoulders his fingers digging into her flesh. When he was fully erect, she moved her mouth towards him and flicked her tongue on the head. He moaned loudly and dug his fingers harder into her shoulders. She slowly parted her lips and caressed the head, once again flicking her tongue, slowly sucking it into her mouth. He moaned out her name as his hands moved to tangle in her hair. He wanted it all to be in her hungry mouth so badly. He began to push his hips towards her and she opened her mouth and took his length in. She sucked gently at first, her hand slowly massaging his balls. She was driving him wild and she knew it and she began to suck harder, faster, her tongue pressing against the underside of his member. She began to taste his pre-cum on her tongue and she slowly slid her mouth off his cock. She looked up into his eyes and gave him her "fuck me" smile. He leaned forward to kiss her but she laughed softly and leaned back on her elbows using her feet to push further up on the bed. He came towards her and put one knee between her legs pushing them apart. She lay back on the bed and wrapped her arms around his neck pulling his face towards hers. She loved the way they kissed. It was as if their mouths had been created to fit each other's. The kiss was gentle at first, lips barely touching. Then her tongue darted out and licked his lips. His quickly came out and touched hers and soon they were exploring each other's mouths; the gentleness replaced by hunger, passion, lust. He captured her tongue and slowly sucked it into his mouth. He felt her back arch and her arms tighten around his neck. He released her mouth and removed her arms from around his neck. Holding her by the wrists with one hand he pushed her arms up above her head and moved his mouth down to kiss her breasts. He sucked one nipple then the other, moving his head back and forth. He knew the effect this was having on her. She was squirming and moaning and begging him to stop and not to stop. He sucked one nipple into his mouth pulling on it with his lips. When he released it he gently nibbled it with his teeth and felt her gasp almost as much as he heard it. Then he lowered his mouth on the other and treated it as he did the first. For several minutes his mouth went back and forth licking, sucking, biting. She was squirming wildly now and he could feel the wetness building as she pushed herself against the knee he had planted between her legs. She had the most sensitive nipples of any women he had ever known and as she arched her back and moaned out his name, he was not surprised that she had cum. Feeling and seeing her pleasure made him want to be in her so badly. He reached between her legs and felt the wetness that had escaped her. Slowly he inserted two fingers deep into her and listened for the moan that he knew from experience would escape her lips. He slid his fingers out and, looking into her face he licked one and sucked it into his mouth. He loved the taste of her. Then he placed the other finger on her mouth and rubbed her juices on her lips. Her tongue slowly licked her lips and then she sucked his finger into her mouth. He loved to feed her her own juices, loved how she enjoyed the taste of herself. Moving his hand between her legs he slid the same two fingers in again preparing to give her another taste. She couldn't wait any longer and she begged him to take her. She spread her legs wider and he knelt between them. He held his cock in his hand and slowly slid the head in rubbing it up and down bathing it in her juices. She reached out and grabbed his hips trying to pull him in deeper but he smiled down at her and resisted. He found her joy spot and made little circles on it with the head. She was moaning loudly now, begging him to fuck her but he just pressed against her clit and ignored her pleading. He knew she was enjoying it and so was he. He loved to feel the head of his cock pressing against her clit but he also knew he wouldn't be able to resist much longer. His cock wanted, needed to be in her heat, her wetness; it wanted to be "home". He entered her slowly at first then increased his pace till he was entering her hard and strong and withdrawing slowly. She raised her hips and pushed towards him each time he entered her. They were in perfect rhythm even as he increased the pace and started to thrust into her, as hard and deep as he could. But he wanted more. He reached down and placed her legs over his shoulders. He held on to her hips and thrust harder. She screamed with pleasure and he pressed into her faster, deeper. He felt her pussy tighten around his cock and her body tense up as the orgasm possessed her. When he felt her relax he released his cum into her, felt it filling her. Her loud gasp told him she felt it too. Her legs slid off his shoulders and he collapsed on top of her, satiated and spent and she held him. She loved this time with him when she could feel his weight on her, his breath on her neck. She caressed his head running her fingers through his hair and massaged his neck, his back. He whispered how much he wanted her, needed her and she echoed his words and planted little kisses on his cheek, his neck, his shoulder. She wanted him to ........the ringing of the phone woke her with a start. She picked it up and sleepily said hello; it was him. He told her the trip was going well and asked her if she had been sleeping before he called. She laughed softly and said he would never believe the dream she just had, then she began to tell him. Wish You Were Here Being home alone and buried up to my ears in trying to figure out a new computer program, I decided to just strip down out of my office clothes and get comfortable. Making sure the curtains were closed, I shimmied out of my sweater and slipped my fingers under the shoulder strap of my bra, reaching back to rub my shoulder blade where a tag or something had been digging in and driving me crazy all day. Reaching back, I unhooked the three little hooks holding it together, and slipped it off. My nipples were immediately rock hard, pressing against the soft heather-brown color of my tank top. I shivered and arched my back. Tossing my soft yellow bra onto the pile of manuals in the chair beside me, i cupped my hands under my breasts, hefting their weight, feeling my nipples harden into pebbles. Even with my fingers spread, my breasts overflowed the span of my hands, and the feel of fingertips touching my sensitive breasts -- even my own fingertips -- made me moan softly. My nipples got even harder. I leaned my head against the back of the chair, closed my eyes, and imagined you here with me. In my mind you were sitting next to me, dark, long-fingered hand resting on my thigh as you merely watched, silently commanding me to your bidding, a half-smile on your face. Your eyes were burning with desire, that sweet melted-chocolate brown seeming to caress every inch of my body. Tipping my head to let my hungry eyes drink their fill of you, I kept my hands in place, touching myself through the soft cotton of my shirt, reveling in the passion that kept flaring in your eyes. Without even realizing it, I stopped merely cupping my breasts and started caressing them. I lifted them, squeezing them together, arching my back and literally offering them to you. I slid my palms over my nipples, feeling that sweet electric thrill shoot through me, making me gasp in anticipation. I gently tweaked my stiffened nipples, tugging on them ever so lightly. I slipped my own hands over, around, under, between my breasts, alternately hiding those thick nipples from your view and pulling my shirt tightly across them, accentuating my state of arousal. Still you watched. I curled my fingers, raking my nails over that my breasts, cushioning that scrape with the softness of my shirt. I moaned, my eyes sliding closed at the flare of desire in yours. I wanted your hands to caress me, your skin to be touching mine. Still you watched. Barely able to keep from writhing in my seat now, I slid my hands under my shirt, pulling it up around my neck and completely exposing myself to your gaze. The contrasting heat of my need and coolness of the air made me gasp and squirm, little rocking motions that sent my breasts bouncing, arousing me even further. The heat of my hands was shocking after the coolness of the kitchen table, where the underside of my breasts had briefly rested as my back arched in offering. Whimpering, I stroked those full, aching mounds, the throbbing nipples a dusky pink against the whiteness of my breasts. I slid my hands over the curve of my breasts, running my nipples in between my fingers, caressing and squeezing them. As my passion increased, so did my tolerance for pain, and I began to twist and pinch my throbbing nipples, mash and squeeze my quivering breasts. Finally, knowing how close I was to the brink of orgasm from both my touch and your burning gaze, you gave me relief. Leaning over, you slid your hand from my thigh to the underside of my breast, cupping it in your palm, feeling that hot, heavy weight for yourself. Bending down, you held your mouth so close to my nipple that I could feel the moistness of exhaled breath heat it softly before the next breath cooled it with a rush of indrawn air. You hovered there, relishing the sight of my torment as I twisted and strained, trying everything to feel your lips wrap around the nipple that you kept just out of reach. Tilting your eyes up, you watched the expressions flicker across my face, indicators of just how incredibly close I was to the edge of reason, just how desperately hungry I was for your touch. My whimpers and gasps and moans were music to your ears, a symbol of my arousal that you never tired of hearing. "Touch them," you whispered, nodding your head to my breasts. In my anticipation of your caress, my hands had fallen, limp, into my lap. I whined, shifting in my chair, aching unbearably with the need to feel you lips on me. I closed my eyes and tried to calm the storm of need raging through me. "Watch," you said, that one simple word ringing with quiet authority. I shivered in reaction, my hands automatically moving to do your bidding. I touched them gently, so aroused that I trembled with need. You knew how I wished that my breasts were younger, firmer, perkier for you, but you like the way they are, weighty in your hand, hot on your skin. You like their sensitivity, even to such simple sensations as my soft tank top rubbing over my bare nipples, or a cool breeze blowing across my exposed breasts. Groaning in the agony of your continued torment, aching to feel the soft heat of your mouth encase me, I leaned back again, trying to force you to do what I so desperately needed. My shirt slipped down without my chin pinning it in place, and you growled in displeasure as it caught against my nipples, threatening to cover me. Your hand still cupping my breast, you told me to take it off. I looked at you, momentarily incapable of thought. Your brow rose at my hesitation, and I knew you'd merely prolong my agony if I didn't obey. Unable to look away from the desire in your eyes, I slipped out of my shirt, vulnerable with the knowledge that I was now topless, completely exposed...while you were still fully dressed. I trembled in the cool air. Your free hand fisted in the length of my hair, you tugged sharply, my quick cry of pain melting into mewls of pleasure as your lips breeched the distance to my nipple and engulfed it in the heated moistness of your mouth. Teeth nibbling, tongue swirling, you couldn't help but respond to my wordless cries, my constant writhing, as I exploded right there in my chair, a hot, wet gush of pleasure that sent tremors of need rippling through your own body. Surging to your feet, you hauled me up against you, your hands low on my hips, holding me tight as your lips devoured mine. Tongues tangling, breath gasping, we kissed and stroked and moaned and rubbed as you slowly walked me backward toward the bedroom, slow, stuttering half-steps down the hallway. We stumbled from wall to wall, moans of pleasure filling the house as we tumbled against one another, finding ourselves repeatedly pressed between warm flesh and cool wallpaper, a trail of discarded clothing marking our frenzied path. When you pushed me backward onto the bed, I fell with a soft laughing gasp, reaching up for you even as you fell against me, mouths joining again as you entered me. The gasps turned into sighs of pure pleasure, your name whispering from my lips as mine did from yours, until the only sensation felt was that of each other's ultimate pleasure.... Wish you were here... Wish You Were Here You still would be if you had never chosen to leave. Every night of my life now ends the same way. I lay on my side and cling to a pillow...just to have something to hold. I stare at the vacancy of where you used to lay and when I reach over, a tear runs down my face because your side of the bed is just so cold now. I've told myself to move on and Heaven knows I've tried. I chased temptation anywhere I could find it. The truth is that I couldn't bring myself to take these men home with me...because, they're not you. It's your touch and your touch only that completes me. You said I would be better off without you. Coming home to an empty bed, crying myself to sleep, is this really better for me? So, I lay awake and I imagine. I imagine you're coming home. I imagine that you are coming home from work just as you had many nights before and you are exhausted. Your job has you working weeks on end without a day off. I always missed you, but I never complained. If it wasn't for your job you surely would not have a future, and we wouldn't have a future either. It paraded you with guilt all those times you wanted to see me and couldn't. I could see it in your face that you felt horrible for leaving me alone. In my mind, time apart always made the heart grow fonder. I felt bad that you always felt bad and as you sat down on the far corner of the bottom of the bed, I crawl up behind you, I rest my chin on your shoulder and look at you. Out of the corner of your eye all you can see is my long, black hair, dangling over your shoulder. You can hardly see me, but you feel my soft kiss against your cheek. You grin and then tell me about your stressful day at work. You had to cover for the guy who always shows up late, you had to show the newbie the ropes of the place, and you had to lift all the heavy packages because ol' Scotty threw his back out again. All the while your supervisor gives you grief for everyone else's mistakes. You rub your aching shoulder and jerk yourself around hoping your back will crack. Baby, let me make you feel better. I gently start rubbing your shoulders as you sigh in sudden relief and then I lower my hands to massage your back. I slip my hands under your shirt and start rubbing just a little firmer. At the very sound of your slight satisfaction I hover over you from behind and help you take your t-shirt off. Tossing your t-shirt to the opposite side of the room, I continue rubbing your back, but this time I do it harder. "You're the best," you say to me softly. Quickly, I remove my tank top and I firmly rub your shoulders. I start lightly kissing and nibbling at your neck as I press myself against your back. I want you to feel me, all of me. I can feel the sudden grin on your face when you realize that I'm using my naked breasts to help massage you and relax you. I bite your neck a little harder and you gasp in pleasurable pain. I drape my arms around your neck and slide my hands down your chest, where I can feel your heart pounding faster than I ever remember it pounding before. I pull my arms back and let my hands slide back up your chest. I continue to bite and kiss your neck as I then wrap my arms around your waist and start to unbuckle your belt. I can already feel you throbbing from under your pants. I slowly get off the bed and stand before you as you look me up and down with your hungry brown eyes. You reach for me and start sliding my panties down slowly. I step out with one leg and rest my knee on the bed as I take hold of your shoulder for balance. I step out with the other leg and I sit on your lap with your legs between mine. I wrap my arms around your neck and give you a lasting look in the eye until our heads rushed towards each other and we kiss. Our tongues twisted and tangled and swirled as I quenched my thirst for temptation with the juices of your mouth. I slid my hands down your chest and to the opening of your pants. I took hold of your throbbing manhood and rubbed the head all over my clitorus. At the very second I started to tease, you stopped kissing me and started biting and kissing between my neck and shoulder. You know exactly where I like it. I moaned in mild pleasure and so did you when I started sliding my hand up and down your dick. One more moan you released and then took hold of my hair. I took hold of your shoulders as you forcefully jerk my head back. I arched my back as you pulled a little harder and you start rubbing my breast with your other hand. You start to kiss my chest and I close my eyes as I run my fingers through your hair. I can feel the tip of your tongue circulating around my nipple and then taking as much of my breast into your mouth as you can fit. You let go of my hair and now I can feel your fingers sliding into me. I arched my back more, forcing your fingers in deeper. "Oh baby," I said and gasped in satisfaction. I've missed you and I haven't even begun to show you how much. I remove my knees from off the bed as I felt your fingers slide out of me. I stood as you then used your hands to fondle my breasts some more. I grab your hair and jerk your head back to kiss you while your hands are traveling down my body and squeezed firmly on my ass. I forcefully push you to lay down on the bed, my body lowering with yours and then I stop kissing you to look into your eyes yet again. I lean down to you again and give you another kiss, but your kiss isn't enough for me, I want to taste you. I finally slide your pants off and look over to you with a playful grin on my face. I lightly kiss you on the lips, a little on your neck, and I forcefully press my naked body against yours. I can feel your throbbing erection skidding against my skin as I kiss down your body inch by inch. I look up at you again and can see your eyes begging for me not to tease. I kiss down your chest, your stomach, and I rub my chest against your genitals. I take hold of the shaft of your penis and circulate my tongue around the head. I take my other hand and gently stroke your balls as I continue to lick all around the head of your cock. I can hear, I can feel you begin to breathe heavy. I look up at you and I'm hoping your enjoying this as much as I am. My tongue is traveling up and down your cock, under it, and around it. I worship you. I can feel you pulsating in my hand that's wrapped around your shaft. I lick up and down and swirl my tongue around again and then start sucking the head. I suck at the tip, then I take in an inch and suck even more, gliding my tongue against it, and taking in another inch at the approval of your moan. As I continue to suck, you can feel my long hair all over your thighs and your crotch. As I bob my head with my hand following my mouth up and down your shaft, I look up and see your hands gripping at the sheets of the bed. I can't get enough of you. I love the feeling of you pulsating in my mouth, I love you. You let out one more loud moan and I continue to suck every inch as I pull away. I sit on your lap with your legs between mine again and I watch you catch your breath as if you just ran in a marathon. You sit up to kiss me deeply with one of your arms around my waist and using your other hand to sink your fingers into my hair and tug at it. Whenever you kiss me like that it throws me into a place where time doesn't exist and I am unaware of my surroundings. I can feel the magnetism between us, generating heat between our bodies and forcing us together like a demanding force of nature. I threw my arms around your neck and jerked myself up your body a little. You feel the wetness already between my legs, dripping onto your thighs. I then lowered myself onto your cock, enjoying every lasting feeling of it easing into me. I slowly bounce up and down as you kiss my neck as you run your hands down my back. Then, as you grip and squeeze my hips I'm going faster and faster. We both moan with undoubted desire. You lower yourself down to lay on the bed with your hands now rubbing up my back, pulling me down with you. My hands cup your face as I force another deep kiss and I can feel your strong hands squeezing my ass as I kept rocking my hips back and forth as hard as I could. I abruptly pulled away from our kiss to let out a series of loud moans. You pull me down towards you again and roll over on top of me, kissing me like a desperate beast and penetrating me deeper with your dominate thrusts. I slightly arch my back and moan in submission. Every inch of my body is tingling, every powerful thrust is sending tremoring sensations up my body. I dig my nails into your shoulders and starts scratching up and down your back, biting my lip to keep me from letting out a scream that would wake the dead. Harder, baby, harder, I want you to make love to me so hard that I'm still going to feel it aching inside of me days later. You continued to pound in between my legs until we both let out loud, climatic screams. The night ends with us sleeping in each other's arms. I wish you were here. All I have now is what I imagine I would do if only you would walk through that door and come home to me again. I adored you in the day, I worshiped you at night, and didn't I always make sure a smile stayed on your face? So now I lay in bed alone, longing to feel complete again. I wish you were here. Baby, I wish you were here. Wish You Were Here I pull off my bra and stand in the bathroom, I ease my panties down over my hips and drop them on the floor, I can smell us on them, our smell from last night. Checking my face in the mirror over the sink I can see that my eyes are just starting to show that I'm stoned, that same glazed, happy look I get after you make me cum with your tongue, they have the same sparkle in them to. The cool air from the ajar window gives me goosebumps, I can feel them rise all over my body, my nipples harden, getting darker and crinkling my skin, it feels good. I am aware of every detail about my body, the warmth of my wetness, spreading down my thighs, chilling my skin in the breeze. I rub my hand over my other arm, feeling the fine, barely there hair standing up, I wonder if it's the weed or the chill or last nights memories that have me feeling this way, my fingers are cold too, I notice as I pinch my erect nipples between my thumb and finger, the feelings send another bubble of warmth onto my thighs. I lose my self for a while, then remember why I am naked in the bathroom. I turn the shower to 10, I love hot showers when I'm stoned, more when you are with me, but you are at work, I can't get you out of my head as I step into the shower, the water is still icy, it makes my skin tingle all over, somehow making my wetter, I catch my breath as it turns to warm, then hot. The steam curls up, round my ankles and legs, the way my silk hold-ups did last night, I smile as I remember how hard they made you, my hands follow the path of steam, over my belly, across my butt, over my full hips, my hands reach my tits and I cup them pushing them up and together, the hot water is turning the skin on my chest and neck pink, flushing it, the same way an orgasm does. I let my hands wander down my body again, over my pussy, I keep my hand palm up, the ball of my thumb over my clit, fingers lightly pushing into me, I find I'm wet, wetter than I thought, then I remember how hard and deep You came last night, this is both of us. I'm shocked at how wanton I must look. I realise that I want you to be watching me, maybe you have a hidden camera and you are watching me right now? I arch my ass back into the stream of hot water, pulling my cheeks apart, so it can run down onto my ass. I lift my foot onto the side of the shower, seeing for the first time why you adore them so much, cute little toes, short, even nails painted dark. I'm not getting out of the shower yet, I want you to see everything, how good my fat pussy lips look and I want to cum for you. I pull the shower head down and move it closer to my ass, it feels so good, but not like your tongue, which drives me insane with its soft, gentle strokes. I put the shower head back, pointing it at my nipples. I need a cock so bad, I imagine you inside me, your big, fat, cock pumping me, the silver cock ring you wear at the base (making you almost too big for me to take) pushes against my clit, I bend over, push two fingers inside me just like you did last night, but it doesn't fill me the way you did, I use my other hand to tease my clit. Seeing this would make you cum, I think about that, you cumming over your hand and jeans. I'm pushed against the shower wall, the water splashing down onto me, making my hair fall across my face, I don't care, It just makes me feel dirtier and sexier for you, I push harder onto my fingers, my clit hot and swollen with blood, it tingles as I increase my pressure, the tingle bursting and exploding, sending shockwaves over me, my knees go weak and my head spins, I can't stay quiet and find myself calling your name as I cum...You answer, I didn't hear you come in from work and the steam gave you perfect cover... Wish You Were Here (A brief disclaimer: The Ocean Club in this story should in no way be confused with the One and Only Ocean Club, and this story in no way represents any events, occurrences, or incidents at the One and Only Ocean Club, nor is it intended to represent the behaviors, inclinations or proclivities of the One and Only Ocean Club's guests. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.) Postmarked February 16th, 2009 Front: A picture of an idyllic white sand beach at sunset, the waters tinted the same glorious shades of orange and red as the clouds. A few palm trees stand in the background, and a few happy couples watch the sun disappear below the horizon. At the bottom, a legend reads, "Paradise Island--The Closest To Heaven You'll Find On Earth". Back: Dear Beverly, Having a wonderful time. Wish you were here. Hugs, Tiffany ***** Postmarked February 18th, 2009 Dear Beverly, Sure, it was mean, but I couldn't help myself. After all, you were the one who was saying, "Oh, you should just take the cash value of the prize, Tiff! You had your cell phone shut off last month, you had to move back in with your terrible aunt, and you can't afford to jaunt off to the Bahamas, even if the trip is all-expenses paid!" So you'll understand if I decided to tease a bit before giving you all the juicy details. (And don't think I don't totally know you were just saying that because your job was keeping you too busy to take the second ticket. You know you'd be right here with me if you could. I'm still bummed out about that, you know. I mean, it's nice to have handy studliness whenever the urge strikes, but Ethan's nowhere near as much fun to hang out with as you are. He's well-endowed in a lot of attributes, but conversation isn't one of them.) My aunt said the same thing you did, by the way (the meanest thing I can say to anyone!) She heard the cost of the travel package, and she was all, "Cash that puppy in! Spend a weekend in Miami if you need to waste time at the beach!" But I am so glad I stuck to my guns--this is a once in a freaking lifetime experience! We're not talking about a week at the Hilton, here. This is an all-expenses paid two week vacation at the Ocean Club--and I gotta tell ya, Bev, the words "all-expenses paid" take on a whole new meaning at a place like this. We have our own butler. Seriously, our own butler, on call 24/7. We say "More champagne, please!" and he says, "Yes, Madam." I'm actually being called "Madam" by someone, and without the words, "Could you please be a bit quieter?" after it! This place is so awesome you wouldn't even begin to believe it, Bev. My nicest outfits barely qualify as casual-wear here. I've seen five actual movie stars--and I'm not talking washed-up actors or guys that you maybe saw on TV once, I'm talking actual bona fide "Oh my god is that Tom Cruise?" type movie stars. This is the kind of place that royalty rents out when they go on vacation. (And I'm not just saying that, by the way. I actually had lunch with a Duchess yesterday. I only ordered a salad so I wouldn't embarrass myself by using the wrong fork.) We're eating five-star cuisine, Ethan's playing nine holes of golf every day, and I'm blissfully tanning and swimming and snorkeling my brains out. And then at night we hobnob with the rich and famous. Well, I do. Ethan's so totally star-struck that he's coming across like a total twerp, while I have managed to remain suave and calm and talk to them like it's no big deal and I meet big celebrities all the time. Is it wrong of me that I've started ditching him? I promise I'll write more later. Hugs, Tiffany ***** Postmarked February 21st, 2009 Dear Beverly, I know, I know, what's the point of writing letters when you're on vacation if you get back before the letters do? Why not use the free wi-fi Internet access, or the free long-distance phone service? Because this is a vacation, honey, and it is one hundred percent traditional when on vacation to take the phone off the hook, let the mail pile up (the email, too), and ignore the rest of the world until it's time to get back on the plane and force yourself back to real life. (I don't know how I'm going to get by without a butler. You laugh, but once you've gone butler-y, you can never go back. Maybe I can press a homeless person into service or something.) So that's why I haven't called. But I had to write you to tell you about the most unbelievably awesomest awesome thing to happen on this vacation. You know Camille Rothschild? (See, this is the advantage of writing a letter to you about this. I can skip all the parts where you act all nonchalant and pretend not to know who she is, when we both know full well she's one of the richest and most eligible heiresses in the world and she's got her own line of clothes and she's going to inherit a whole vastly huge business empire and you read about her in the tabloids all the time, and then I point that out to you, and you try to insist that you don't read that stuff and I have to go into your bedroom and grab one out and wave it at you triumphantly. This way is much easier.) Anyway, she's totally hanging out with me! I will now pause for your squeals of jealous delight. Okay, pause over. I'll tell you how it happened. I was out dancing the other night--I have by now almost completely ditched Ethan, by the way, and I think he's actually screwing one of the maids. How skanky is that? You come to the height of the upper class, the place where the rich go to get away from it all, and you wind up schtupping one of the maids when she comes in to tidy up. Ugh. I mean, I'm not angry or anything, Ethan and I weren't ever exclusive and I'd never thought of him as much more than "cock of the hour", but still, tacky much? Anyhow, I was dancing, and drinking, and putting it all on the club's tab because hello, all expenses paid, and I was feeling absolutely no pain because they do these awesome martinis here (it's so totally awesome drinking a martini here, I feel like a female James Bond.) And then I stepped off the dance floor, and I suddenly realized that I was having too much alcohol and dancing and not enough water and stretching, because all of a sudden my legs cramped up so bad I literally fell over. And this girl spotted me, and ran over, and she was like, "Oh, are you all right?" And I was gritting my teeth, and I was trying to stand but it just was not happening, but I was being all stoic and saying, "Oh, I just over-exerted myself a bit, it's just a bit of cramp." So she said, "Here, let me try to help," and she stretched me out and started trying to massage my legs back into shape. And that's when I recognized her. If it wasn't for the pain, I would have totally freaked. Camille Rothschild, girl with her own brand of perfume and more jets than I have dresses, is giving me a massage! Suave and calm has its limits, and that would have been mine if my legs hadn't been distracting me. But the massage wasn't doing any good--and that's not a knock against her. Her hands felt damn good, and she was really working her way up and down my legs, but my muscles were knotted up good and tight and they had no interest in letting go. But this is where it gets truly awesome. Camille recognized me from the Ocean Club! She had her chauffeur (Ooh, chauffeurs! I might need a whole staff of homeless people!) pick me up and help me into the car, and we drove back to her villa at the club. And oh my god, if you think the rooms are swanky here, you can't even imagine the villas! This is like a four bedroom house in the middle of a luxury resort, and it's all Camille's! I haven't asked her how much a night it is, because rich people don't do that (and no, I'm not pretending to be rich. She knows I won this trip, and she's totally cool with that.) But I looked it up online, and she's spending a cool ten grand a night for this place. She doesn't use the resort staff, either. She has her own private butler (is it still a butler if it's a woman? Does it become a butler-ette or something?), and her own private chauffeur (chauffeuse? Camille doesn't have any guys on staff. Me, I'd have a hard time resisting having some eye-candy around, but I guess she wouldn't have a problem whistling up men when she needs to.) And most importantly for purposes of this anecdote, her own private masseuse. I thought I was getting good massages at the spa, but this woman had my muscles melting like butter. Seriously, after five minutes I was totally limp, like a ragdoll made of wet cardboard crossed with a boneless kitten. I barely even remembered who I was, let alone where. Those cramps didn't stand a chance. And after that, we chatted a little. Then we chatted a lot more. Camille thought it was really neat that I'd won this trip, and she agreed with me that Ethan was a total punk, and we totally bonded complaining about guys and how we wished that we could get all the fun of being fucked without the hassles of dealing with them. And the whole time, her masseuse (Andrea, her name turned out to be) was just working away at my muscles until I was tingling all over. I wound up actually nodding off, it felt so good, and I apologized when I woke up but Camille was totally cool with it. We hung out all the next day, playing tennis (she won, but I held up pretty good for someone who doesn't have all day and every day to practice) and swimming and tanning, and then we went out clubbing again...and between you and me and the skeezy guys in the post office who probably read everybody's mail, she slipped me these little pink pills that made my head feel like it was full of cotton candy. In a good way. I was lucky she was there to help me out, because I don't know what they were, but they were strong enough that I needed a thinking-brain girl to help me out. I am going to have such a hard time getting back to reality. Hugs, Tiffany ***** Postmarked March 2nd, 2009 Dear Beverly, This is just the most motherfucking awesomest thing ever in the history of the world! Camille and I were talking Saturday night, and I was saying how much it sucked that I had to go back home the next day, and she said, "Why not stick around?" And I kind of snorted, and I pointed out that I can't afford even a single day at the Ocean Club without the contest people paying for everything, but she just waved around the villa and said, "Plenty of space here." And I asked how exactly I'd get back if I didn't use the ticket I got with the contest, and she just grinned and pointed out that she had a private jet on standby whenever she wanted it. And I pointed out that my boss would kind of fire me if I just decided to extend my vacation because I felt like it, and she asked where I worked, and when I told her she just got this wicked little gleam in her eye. And the next thing I know, she's on the phone with the CEO of my company--not my boss, but the CEO of the international conglomerate that runs the company that owns the branch that employs my boss. And she's all, like, "Hey, Reggie, it's Cammie! Could you do me a teensy favor?" And suddenly, I'm on indefinite paid leave. Let me just say that again, since I don't have a highlighter. Paid. Leave. Retroactive, too. I can't fucking believe it. So now I'm unpacking my stuff in the villa. Not sure how long I'm going to stay, but it could be quite a while--I'm certainly not going to get sick of the Lifestyle of the Rich and Famous any time soon, and Camille doesn't seem to be getting sick of me. She's acting like we're having a slumber party together or something. When I brought over my suitcase, she was giggling like crazy, and all of a sudden she shouted, "I know! Present time!" And she raced out of the room for a minute, and when she came back, she handed me this amazing brand-new MP3 player like it was a Cracker Jack prize. I'm still playing with all the features--It's way better than anything I could ever get. (And not just because it's expensive, too. Apparently, she owns the company that makes it. This is like a new prototype pre-production model, won't go on the market for months.) Anyhow, now I feel even more guilty that I'm here and you're not. I know you'd totally hit it off with Camille (unlike Ethan, who is on his way back home right now. The invitation was not extended to him, and I didn't ask her to.) Maybe when Camille takes me home, I can introduce you to her and we can all hang out together. That would be truly awesome. Hugs, Tiffany ***** Postmarked March 16th, 2009 Dear Beverly, I'm not even sure you'd recognize me if you saw me. Camille and I turned out to be the same size, so she's sharing her clothes with me. I've never dressed so hot in all my life. I'm totally turning heads everywhere I go. (Which is kind of a problem, because living at a villa with four other girls who do practically everything with you, it's kind of hard to find someplace to sneak off and have sex. I've been doing my best to handle it myself, but sometimes there are urges fingers just can't satisfy, you know?) Sorry I haven't gotten in touch with you these last two weeks. There's something weird and fritzy between my laptop and the villa's wi-fi now that I'm no longer an official guest, and I'm not tech-savvy enough to figure out what it is so email is kind of by the wayside at the moment. I know I should try to fix it, but somehow when you're lying on the table getting a three-hour massage from a professional Swedish acupressurist while listening to music through your earbuds, everything just seems less urgent. And I'd call, but I still haven't figured out how to get a line out. (They've explained it to me something like seven times, but it always sounds like the grown-ups from "Peanuts" talking and I always wind up doing it wrong.) The phones are all routed funny--something to do with Camille's business phone network. She isn't just here on vacation, she actually lives here, and does all her work by teleconferencing. (I know, you're probably thinking something snarky right now about how hard it must be, inheriting things for a living, but I've spent a little time watching her work. She's actually a bad-ass businesswoman. I was surprised to see her talking textiles in Chinese, arguing over factories in German, and generally bossing people around. I was like, "Isn't your dad actually in charge of this stuff?" But she told me that it's been ages since her dad actually made any of the decisions in the company. She's the one in charge, apparently.) So I finally decided to just write you another letter. It was so funny--when I mentioned it to Camille, she actually got this little sour look on her face for a second! She hid it right away, of course, and she was all helpful and offering to give the letter to her secretary to mail out so that I wouldn't have to bring it up to the front desk (like I can't walk it over myself?), but I could tell what was really bugging her. She was jealous! All that money, all that power, but you're still my best friend and she's not. (Which isn't to say she's not totally nummy, or anything. She's hilarious, smart, rich, gorgeous and everything I would want in a husband except for the pussy. She is definitely in the number two spot. But don't worry, Bev, she's never going to beat you out. You're every bit as cool as she is, and you beat up Missy Malloy when she stole my boyfriend in ninth grade. Camille hasn't beaten up anyone for me. She probably has people for that, or something.) Anyhow, what have I been up to the last couple of weeks? Pretty much professionally lounging around, that's what. I'm getting so pampered that I'm starting to lose the ability to do things for myself. There just always seems to be a butler or a maid or a chauffeur around to take care of it, and all I have to do is lie there and be pretty. (Which I'm good at.) Camille and I have done lots of shopping (she helped me pick out some lingerie that's going to make Whatsisname beg me for forgiveness when I get back--and it's so comfortable, too! I pretty much just wear it around the villa all day now, since it's just us girls.) We've been out clubbing (I try to say no to those pills she has, but she always gives me this mock-stern look and I just say "Yes, ma'am," and then it's Little Miss Candy-Brain all over again. I just wish they didn't get me all hot and bothered. Camille does a little too good of a job keeping the men away when I'm too fuzzed out to make decisions, if you know what I mean. Just once, I'd like to wake up in a strange man's bed after a night like that.) And of course, I've been tanning, swimming, and getting lots of massages and spa treatments. (That MP3 player has been an absolute godsend! It's even waterproof, so I can wear it swimming.) Still not quite bored with the ultra-rich lifestyle, oddly enough. At least, not bored enough to go back to living with my aunt. But you know I miss you. Hugs, Tiffany ***** Postmarked March 23rd, 2009 Dear Beverly, So the last week has seen some interesting developments. They might kind of shock you, in fact, but I think we've known each other long enough that you're not going to get freaked just because I level with you. You remember how I said in my last letter I was getting really damn horny without a guy around? Um, yeah, problem solved there. In a really fucking unexpected way, but problem most definitely solved. Which is a good thing, because the problem definitely got worse before it got better. Spending all my time wandering around in skimpy bikinis or lingerie, with nothing really to do but have fun...I didn't have anything to do to take my mind off of how horny I was. I'd slip off to the bathroom, take a long hot bath and listen to my MP3 player while I frigged off, and then twenty minutes later I wanted more sex. At one point, Andrea was giving me a massage, and it felt so good I wound up whimpering a little and rubbing myself off against the table. Which wouldn't have been so bad, except that I also found my legs spreading apart all by themselves and my butt lifting up like I was in heat and there was a huge damp spot on the towel underneath me. (Andrea acted like it was no big deal, but I heard her muttering something under my music for the rest of the massage. Admittedly, she's always muttering something under my music--I've gotten to the point where I just tune it out--but I could swear I heard something about "horny little bitch" in there.) So here I am, getting non-stop horny to the point where I can't think straight (and I'm sorry, but I still haven't figured out how to work the email or the phones--I just always seem to get distracted.) And there we were, going out clubbing every night, and Cammie just always seemed to have an endless supply of those pills that make me all fuzzy and horny, but she was always really careful not to let the guys get too close, and finally a couple of nights ago I was so wound up I was just about ready to pop. I made up my mind (what there was of it--I keep meaning to ask Cammie what's in those pills) that I was going to find the first cute guy I saw and drag him off somewhere to have sex with him. So I got out on the dance floor, and there was this nice-looking guy out there--dark hair, smoldering eyes, sort of like a young Antonio Banderas, and my libido said, "WANT!" And I sort of drifted over to him, and he smiled at me with this look that said he totally knew exactly what I wanted and how bad I wanted it. It was a smile that said, "I can get away with making you beg." And he was right, too. I would have begged to fuck him. I would have let him do anything. (It's a good thing you're my unshockable friend, because you can probably tell that this letter is heading into "fuck and tell" territory.) So I danced with him a little, and he didn't say anything and I didn't say anything but the bump and grind we were doing said everything our mouths didn't, and I could feel him getting hard inside his pants. Hell, his pants were so tight that I could see him getting hard inside his pants, and he looked like he had enough down there to make me very happy. I could feel my panties getting damp just thinking about it... Wish You Were Here And then in swoops Cammie. She acts all chatty and happy to see me and asks to just borrow me for a moment, but as soon as she gets me away from him she's hustling me out of the club, saying, "You don't want to go near him, Tiffs. He's a real wolf." "I don't care!" I whimpered as we got into the car. "I was looking for a real wolf, Cammie!" She kind of shot me a confused look. "You were?" And finally, almost three weeks of non-stop cock-craving spilled out of me, and I shouted, "I need to fuck, Cammie! I'm so fucking hot right now I can't stand it!" I was just about moaning those last few words out. All my self-control had gone right out the window. I'd been struggling not to break down and confess it to Cammie, because I didn't know how she'd take it if I dragged a hook-up back to the villa, but my brain was all fuzzed out on pink pills and my willpower had been running on fumes for days and that was the moment where it just sputtered and died. Cammie got this sympathetic look on her face when I said it, though, and she patted my arm. "Well, why didn't you say so sooner?" she asked. She told the chauffeur to step on it, and we got back to the villa in record time. "Take off those clothes," she said to me as she went into her bedroom. "I'll be right back." I peeled off my clothes (and I do mean "peeled" in the case of my panties--they were so wet they were sticking to my skin) and went into my bedroom. I was thinking she was maybe calling up an escort service, or dialing up a couple of muscle-bound young hunks she knew. But instead she walked into my bedroom, wearing nothing but this sort of crotchless underwear type get-up, and jutting out of that was... Oh. My. God. Bev, you know me. I have always been, very proudly and vocally, all about the cock. Tongue and fingers? Puh-lease. I want something stiff and warm, and I want it as big as possible. I didn't think it would be possible for me to ever get turned on by anything that had a pussy. But the thing Cammie was wearing...it was to a cock as a Camaro was to a Model T. It was all ridges and bumps and extra prongs in special places, and it vibrated and it gyrated and it was even heated to 98.6 degrees. Oh, and it was eleven inches long and about as thick as your wrist. This thing was the ultimate fuck toy, Bev. Cammie says she owns a sex toy manufacturer, and she had this thing specially made to her exact specifications. It is designed to leave a woman flat on her fucking back. I just stared at her for a long moment. I couldn't talk. I was drooling, Bev, literally salivating. I had never seen anything so hot in my fucking life. Cammie walked over to me, and that thing wiggled with every step. I couldn't take my eyes off it. She looked like a different woman when she was wearing a strap-on dildo, like all of her beauty suddenly went from being something to admire (or maybe to be jealous of) to something I wanted, needed, couldn't live without. Like I couldn't imagine how I hadn't seen her this way before. She pushed me back onto the bed, and then bent my legs up near my head. I grabbed them with both hands, just so totally thrilled that I was finally going to get that fucking I needed. But I didn't, not right away. Cammie leaned forward so that the cock was just rubbing up against my pussy, and then she smiled. Remember how I said I was so horny I was ready to beg to be fucked? Well, Cammie made me. She waited until I was whimpering and babbling, telling her I'd do anything to have that fake cock inside me, and generally acting like a horny little bitch in heat before she finally slid it on in. And in, and in, and in...oh, Bev, you have got to try this thing! It was finding erogenous zones I didn't even know I had, and every time she slid it all the way into me, the little prong on the end bumped my clit and vibrated about three times faster than the rest of the dildo. I could not believe how good it felt--I came faster than I thought I ever could, just from the feel of it filling up my cunny. And she just kept fucking me, too. Normally I'm lucky if a guy lasts twenty minutes inside me (not to toot my own horn or anything), but Cammie never had to worry about cumming or going soft. She could just pump me until her hips got tired, and all that exercise turned out to be good for something after all. After a while, I let go of my ankles so that I could wrap my legs around her and pull that thing as far into me as possible, and I was kind of shocked that I really enjoyed running my hands over her body. I liked the softness of it, I liked the curves, I loved her breasts--she was whispering in my ear, talking dirty to me, telling me how good it felt to be helpless and horny and fucked by a woman, and oh God was it true. It all just sort of crystallized in my head somewhere around my fourth orgasm, how all I'd ever really liked about guys were their cocks, and that Cammie looked better with a cock than any guy I'd ever seen. I kissed her, and I even loved the way she tasted. She literally fucked me until I passed out, and I woke up to find her caressing me and whispering in my ear some more. It got me so horny that I begged her to fuck me again, but she made me eat her out for something like an hour before she finally gave in and pounded me doggie-style for a bit. (And by "a bit", I mean a half-hour. We wound up spending pretty much the whole day in bed together.) So there you go, Bev. I seem to be a hetero girl in name only, now. Like I said at the beginning, I hope this doesn't freak you out too much. You don't need to worry about me making a pass at you, I promise. You're my BFF, but Cammie's the one making my pussy purr. (Get it? Get it? Oh, you know you miss my sense of humor.) And I miss you. I'm thinking about maybe asking Cammie to take a little day-trip to visit you. Hugs, Tiffany ***** Postmarked April 16th, 2009 Dear Beverly, Could you do me a tremendously hugely huge favor? I, um, kind of need you to buy a plane ticket back to the States for me, and send it to me here at the club. I'll totally pay you back when I get home--after all, I've been on paid leave for two months now, with no living expenses, so you know I'm good for it. Don't worry, it's not that things have gone south between me and Cammie. It's just that...well, things are so nice here that I keep forgetting to ask about heading back. I keep getting distracted. I'll be starting to think that maybe I should ask Cammie to fuel up the jet, or whatever it is she does, and then Andrea tells me it's time for my massage, and I lie down on the table and my brain just goes all blank and soft while she turns my muscles into putty. Or I'll be just about to bring it up, and Cammie does that thing she does with her tongue to my nipples, and suddenly I've spent a whole day licking her pussy and I'm wondering where the time went. It just seems like it's so hard to stay focused on anything but sex and pleasure. And whenever I do bring up the idea of maybe taking a trip back home, Cammie just traces a finger down my lips and suggests that we could do it a little later, because she can tell that I'm feeling all turned on right now and she's thinking that maybe I'd like it better if she ravished me like the horny slut I am. And the second she says it, all my willpower just dribbles out between my legs and I just want to do exactly that, and by the time she's done fucking me I can't think about much of anything anymore, and it's a day or two before I even remember what we were talking about again. And part of me knows that I can just book the tickets myself, but I've gotten so used to people doing things for me that everything seems like too much work now. I've stopped even trying to figure out how to work the phone or the email, and every time I think about trying to go somewhere else to book a flight, my thoughts just sort of chase themselves in circles for a while trying to come up with a plan that doesn't just involve asking Cammie to get her chauffeur to drive me, and I lose track of things and it just seems easier to put on my earbuds and soak in a hot tub for a while instead. The only thing that doesn't seem like too much effort to do is write you a letter, and I think that's just because I miss you so much. (I think this is the most time we've spent apart since you had the mumps in second grade!) But if you could just go ahead and send me a ticket, I think that having it right there in my hands would help a lot. It'd be really great to see you again, and we can hug and chat and I can tell you all about how awesome Cammie is and you can try out my MP3 player (and the dildo, if I can get it through Customs.) I can't wait to see you again! Hugs, Tiffany ***** Postmarked April 19th, 2009 Dear Beverly, OK, you're obviously going to think that this is me being a total scatter-brain, but that last letter I sent you? Totally ignore it. Just crumple it up, throw it in the trash, and forget I ever sent it. If you already paid for a ticket, try to get a refund. If you can't get a refund, Cammie will totally pay you back. See, I told her yesterday about the letter I sent you. At first, she was kind of hurt--she seemed really surprised that I'd want to leave all this behind. She said she thought she had me better trained than that. (Makes us sound like we're in one of those kinky Master/slave relationships, doesn't it? Not that the idea doesn't have a certain appeal to me...) But I told her that I loved her and I adored her, and after a nice long session of licking her out, she was convinced I was telling the truth. After that, we talked a bit more while she fucked me nice and slow, and I explained that I really just missed you lots and lots and lots, and how close we are. That seemed to really sink in for her. She kissed me and said, "No wonder you managed to send that letter, pet." (That's her pet term for me, 'Pet'. Get it?) "She means a lot to you. I suppose I really can't get you to forget her the way you forgot about everything else, can I?" And of course, I told her no. I don't care about my aunt or my sucky job, but I'm not letting go of my best friend. So she came up with the awesomest idea ever. (Her ideas are so great!) Instead of me wandering off out of pussy-worshiping distance, she's arranging for you to come visit here! There's a ticket enclosed with this letter, and she's already worked things out with your company the way she has with mine. In just a few days, you and I will be hanging out in Paradise Island with Camille Rothschild for as long as you want! Is that not the ultimate in cool? I've been wishing you were here this whole time, and now you will be! Cammie's totally looking forward to meeting you, too. She's already bought you an MP3 player. Hugs and Kisses, Tiffany THE END