0 comments/ 12273 views/ 1 favorites Experimental By: Lotus2660 Re-up of previous fic. It wasn't the first time that week that Riley was bored. He lolled about in his chair at his workspace, looking around for something to get on with. Time was ticking by so slowly. For a Thursday it was dragging, and even though a lot of work had to get done, the unit was up to a full team -- where the term 'many hands make light work' would be appropriate. He was well aware that the boss wasn't around, and that had been the case for the past thirty minutes that afternoon. Every so often he'd peer up from his screen to have a quick look at the section's door to make doubly certain he wasn't flying back over to his workspace. "Run out of work?" A familiarly chirpy voice was heard to say behind him before a hand placed itself on his shoulder. He would've jumped a foot in his chair if it weren't for the fact that he was practically curled up. He sharply peered up to find himself looking into a pair of sparkling green orbs. "R-Ryan," he hazily stated, "you scared me." The shorter blond-haired male smirked playfully. "Don't worry." He noted. "I won't tell anyone if you don't." Riley sat up in a more formal position. "You've run out of work too?" Ryan nodded. "For the past hour." He placed his other hand on his hip. "I don't understand why they don't just let us go home for the day." "Because we're on contracted hours maybe?" The brunette resentfully turned back in his chair, deciding to go back to absentmindedly completing his half-finished necklace with the paperclips scattered about on his desk. "But still...it isn't fair. They can't expect us to sit around and do nothing up until the time we go -- can they?" "Well, they can and they will." He shrugged. "Got any plans for the weekend?" He shook his head slowly. "Same thing every weekend." He replied. "We go out on the Friday to get something to eat, do our own thing and go to bed late." His reply prompted a playful smirk to play upon the blond's lips. "What's so funny?" "You're so predictable, Ri." Ryan noted teasingly. "You should live a little." "I can't," Riley explained, "and you know why." "I know -- cause of her." "Her has a name." They quickly ceased their playful exchange of words when their boss was seen to storm through the door and make his way back to his desk. Riley brought up one of the programs on his screen and flitted his gaze back to it when Wilmot heavily sat down in his chair. He resented the fact that he had to have his obese excuse of a boss working directly next to him. Something caught his eye, and he looked over to see Ryan going away from his workspace and tilting his head towards the department's exit door. He frowned in confusion. What could he possibly want at that time? Didn't he know that Wilmot was...right there...next to him? Drawing in a small sigh, he went away from his desk and followed the blond into the male toilets. "What is it you want?" He asked resignedly. "You do realise that he's come back, don't you?" "Come out with me." The shorter of the two suggested. "You and me -- Friday night." "No," the brunette suddenly replied, "she'll suspect something." He had a point, of course. Amber, his girlfriend of two years, was awfully possessive of him. She simply said it was because she was worried about him -- he secretly put it down to jealousy. He would never cheat on her, but he was hard-pushed to if she was going to keep suspecting him of doing it in the first place. "You shouldn't care about what she does or thinks." Ryan stated boldly. "It's up to you -- she's not your mother, Ri. How old are you now?" He looked away slowly. "Twenty-nine." "My point exactly." The blond placed his hands on his shoulders. "You and me Friday night. No one else. Just us." "To go where?" Riley asked in protest. "And do what?" He smirked to himself. "You know what." **** "That felt good," Amber relaxed in bed as she went through her afterglow, "too good. You know how to do it, baby." Riley said nothing but remained lying on his back in their bed and continued to stare up at the ceiling. Sure it felt good, but not as good as it used to be and he didn't know why. Was he fast approaching that age when things didn't feel as pleasant as they did? Was he losing his attraction to Amber? He wasn't sure. "Riley?" She inched closer to him, sliding an index finger up and down the length of his sternum. "Honey, are you ok?" "I guess," he slowly replied, feeling the less exhilarating climax taper off, "just...can't stop thinking." "What about?" He shrugged. "Work mainly." He felt his eyes get heavy from the stroking but they didn't want to close. "And Ryan." "What is it about Ryan that you like?" She asked with a hint of repulsion. She didn't hate the younger male, but she did find him a bit eccentric. That was what attracted her to Riley -- he was levelheaded and predictable; a bit like her. "He wants me to go out with him tomorrow night." He explained with as little enthusiasm as he could. He knew full well she wouldn't approve of it and he was sure that she was probably thinking of him leading him astray. "Come on, Amber, he's the only real mate that I've got within work. It wouldn't seem fair." "Riley, he's quirky." Amber noted bluntly. "He goes out every Friday night and gets completely off his face. He probably rolls back into his place after and gets sick. What kind of friend would let you do the same?" "He isn't always like that." Riley rolled onto his side with his back to her. "I knew you wouldn't understand." "I do understand, honey, but I don't want you to end up sick. You know too much drinking is bad for you." "Even when it's just the once?" When he didn't hear any protest from her, he carried on. "I haven't been out for a long time. Why not let me do it?" **** Friday morning. Riley came into the work's toilets, noticing that Ryan had come in early and was doing something to his eyelashes. He raised an eyebrow at the blond's ministrations but tried to think no more of it. "You're in earlier than usual." He didn't so much as jump or flinch and he peered over at him. "Hey, Ri." He greeted casually, not at all put off by the fact that the brunette had caught him doing something out of the ordinary. "So are we on for tonight?" He nodded slowly. "It took a lot to convince her, but she let me go." "Good." A playful smirk crept across his lips. "I'm pleased about that." Riley disappeared into one of the cubicles and locked the door. "I wanna make you feel good." Ryan went on, as he finished wiping the thick mascara off his eyelashes. "And now I can take you to those places where I can do that." "So we're going on a pub-crawl?" "Sort of," he replied, "but classier." The taller male felt a buzz of heat pulse through him after the blond had said he wanted to make him feel good. He knew he meant to cheer him up, but his thoughts turned to something else. Him and Ryan -- it sounded odd and he shouldn't assume that he felt anything towards him. "I'll pick you up at seven tonight, then." Ryan suggested. "B-but if we're going on a pub-crawl," Riley suddenly stated, "wouldn't that mean that you'd be...drinking?" He nodded, smirking slightly. "Don't worry," he reassured him amusedly, "I've got this all planned out." **** Riley had no idea what to wear later on that night. What he had was mainly dark, and he knew full well that Ryan was the sort not to stray away from bright colours. They would make a right pair -- both dressed to clash. It suddenly made him question why the blond liked dressing so vividly -- even at work the odd splash of colour showed up, and it didn't seem to bother him that as what they did was such a messy job the clothes would've got marked with oil. He stuck with black, as did everyone else -- but Ryan was not a conformist. A pair of brightly set headlights flashed across the road outside, and he inwardly berated the other male for driving even if he was intending on drinking. Ensuring he was set to go, he left his place -- not expecting to see a shiny white limo had pulled up. The driver wasn't even Ryan, but he opened the back door for him to get in. He dimly thanked him, and got a massive shock when he noticed the short blond had made himself comfortable in the back of the limo. "Told you I had this all planned out." He teased, taking hold of his wrist and pulling him further towards him. He was dressed in a long, sparkly green t-shirt paired with extremely tight black jeans. He wore a pair of long, almost thigh-high black boots and had caked on a fair bit of make-up, which made Riley wonder where he got that. He'd also applied some gel to his fine blond hair and had worked it through the ends to make them spiky. "I hope you're feeling up for it." The blond spoke darkly. "Up for what?" The brunette frowned, inwardly hoping that Ryan wasn't planning on going to any places dressed like that. "You'll see." Experimental Anal I'm proud to say that my husband, Brian, never ceases to surprise me; it's fantastic that even after more than fifteen years together, he can still pull a rabbit out of his hat now and then. This true story is his latest "rabbit". A few weeks after my first story, "The Gift", was posted to Literotica to mostly positive comments (for which I thank you, readers), unbeknownst to me, Brian decided to take a crack at it himself. One day when I came home from work he surprised me with this story he had written about events in his own life, more than twenty years ago. What surprised me even more was that it was actually good: by the time I reached the end, I was wet and practically attacked him sexually. The next day I read it again and had pretty much the same reaction. Brian is a very smart man. Sometimes we make the mistake of looking at big strong guys like Brian and equating "big" with "dumb", and yeah okay, sometimes it's for good reason. It also probably doesn't help that for a number of years Brian made his living running into places everyone else was running out of. In addition, he's also very loving and kind, and a fantastic husband - which is the reason, in case you're wondering, he knew he could write a story about his own sexual history and give it to me without worrying if I'd beat his brains in with a rock while he slept! One thing Brian is not, however, is a writer, a fact he'd be the first to admit. At his request, I rewrote his story, clarifying this paragraph or that, embroidering or tightening up his prose where needed, and just tweaking it here and there. It's a collaboration of both of us, then, though the gist of the story is entirely his; I merely edited it. (Also, I should point out that the clever and occasionally laugh out loud humor he sprinkled in here and there is entirely his own. What's remarkable, I believe, is how he's able to make the reader unexpectedly laugh now and then, all without taking one whit away from the eroticism of the story.) Now for the disclaimer and we'll get started... Disclaimer: This is a true story of events that took place in 1988, and is as true and accurate as memory allows. Where necessary, license has been taken to fill in gaps, while still taking pains to preserve the original theme. Names have been changed to protect the guilty. My name's Maryann. I carry a stethoscope. Oops, sorry. Ahem. Must be picking up old "Dragnet" reruns... =================================== "I'm...almost...there," the young blonde gasped between panting breaths, as she rode me furiously. I grunted in acknowledgment, but kept my eyes squeezed tightly shut. It wasn't that I didn't want to look at her. Far from it: her naturally blonde hair, green eyes, and big tits were a sight to behold. No, it was that I was afraid to look at her; one look at those firm yet bouncy tits and her nineteen-year-old body impaled on my cock, and I would lose it for sure. As it was, it was taking every ounce of self-control I could muster not to cum. The eighty-plus year-old chair under me groaned and squeaked terribly with each thrust, threatening to collapse and dump our naked asses in the floor at any second. It was more than eighty years old, but it was hardly an antique; "antique" implies an image of furniture that has been delicately cared for or lovingly and painstakingly restored, and this chair wasn't it. It was simply old. But for a twenty-two year-old part-time college student/full-time firefighter who worried from one month to the next how he was going to pay the rent, it was the best I could do. That chair, for all of its danger of imminent failure, was my girlfriend's favorite place in my little studio apartment to have sex. I would sit in the chair with my feet flat on the floor and Sandy would straddle me, facing me, with her feet on the floor as well. Then she would fuck me with a thrusting motion of her hips that ground her clit against my pubic bone. As long as I didn't blow my load too soon (or the chair catastrophically fall to pieces), it was a nearly-guaranteed orgasm for her. She squealed suddenly, wrapped her arms tight around me, and pulled me tightly to her, squeezing me so tight that for a few seconds I couldn't even breathe. As I felt her tight pussy flutter around my cock, I mentally gave myself permission to cum, and instantly my condom filled with hot cum as I exploded inside her. She relaxed slowly, releasing the death grip she had around my chest. I had rescued people from near-certain death who didn't hold onto me as tight as Sandy usually did when she came. And if she were on her back, it was even worse: then her feet and legs got into the act, burying her heels in my backside like she was trying to merge our bodies together. "Mm, that was nice," she purred, with a small, contented smile. "Did you cum?" If not for the fact that we came at the same time, she wouldn't have had to ask. Her pussy was tight enough to tell her when I came. As it was, with her own orgasm flooding her brain, that particular message got lost in the shuffle. "Yes, I did. Thanks for asking." That was something I always appreciated about Sandy: if I said no, she would have either stayed on me for as long as it took or gotten off and sucked me the rest of the way. My wife, Maryann, is the same way, but I felt it displayed remarkable maturity for a young woman not yet out of her teens. I put my hands under her ass, lifted her off me, and carried her over and laid her on the sofa. She giggled; it was always a big turn-on for her when I swept her into my arms and carried her effortlessly. It made her feel light, she said. Sandy had an extra ten pounds or so that she could bear to lose, but she was hardly fat. Like a lot of young women, though, she thought she was too heavy and saw every tiny imperfection in her body whenever she looked in the mirror. After depositing her on the couch, I got a paper towel, disposed of my condom, then cleaned myself up with a washcloth. Once I was done, I came back in the main room (since it was a studio, the whole idea of a living room or bedroom is somewhat vague) and cuddled with her, both of us naked. Neither of us said a word for probably five or ten minutes, though Sandy did hum some tune that either she came up with or one I simply didn't recognize. It didn't matter, though; what mattered was that she was humming. It was a habit of hers that I doubt she was even aware of: she always hummed after an especially good orgasm. I felt proud of myself. "I was just lying here thinking," she said in a dreamy, somewhat disconnected voice. "I wonder what it feels like to do it in the butt." "I imagine it hurts. I expect it hurts a lot, even," I laughed. A lot of guys would have responded very enthusiastically at the mere hint of anal from their girlfriend or fuck buddy, but I didn't. I knew it happened, I had seen it in magazines and porn flicks, and I knew that while it was far from common, it wasn't all that uncommon, either. I knew that some guys really got off on fucking a woman in the ass, but then again, some guys got off on being pissed on or having their balls subjected to things resembling medieval torture devices. And those things definitely weren't for me: unless I'm on fire, do not piss on me, and if you bring some of those extreme S&M gadgets even into the same zip code as my balls, I'd better be dead first, or you might be. Similarly, as far as I was concerned, the asshole was exit only and I had no particular interest in putting my cock in a hole that might already be occupied, if you know what I mean! "Maybe," she said vaguely, shrugging. "If you want to know what it feels like, ask your friend Tina," I pointed out. "Tina doesn't count. We both know Keith's an asshole, no pun intended." Keith was Tina's boyfriend. Sandy spit out his name like it was poison. She was right: Keith was an asshole. I had once counted him as a friend, but not for some time. Though he had never done anything to me personally to end our friendship, Keith ran hot and cold: one day he could be the best guy in the world, gregarious, friendly, and give you the shirt off his back. The next, he might steal your wallet or television and ignore you like you didn't even exist. After one too many rides on the "Keith roller coaster", I couldn't be friends with him any longer. I like roller coasters, but only the physical kind, at an amusement park; emotional ones I want no part of. A couple of weeks ago on a boring Saturday afternoon, Keith and Tina had tried anal for the first - and according to Tina, last - time. She had been willing to experiment, letting Keith very carefully insert a well-lubed pinkie finger in her backdoor, just to see what it was like, but that was as far as she was willing to go, at least initially. If it went well, she might eventually go all the way at some point in the future, but not that day. As it turned out, Keith had other plans, and after a minute or so, had followed one finger with a second one. And while Tina didn't much care for the second finger, she didn't really protest, either. A few minutes later, when his cock replaced his fingers, she had complained, but at that point it was too late: he was already inside her tight ass. Though it hadn't been rape in the traditional sense, and he did at least go slow and use plenty of lube, she had not exactly been a happy camper as her ass opened to this unwelcome and uninvited visitor. What's more, he was fairly plastered at the time, so he didn't cum right away, and his cock was in her backside for a while. I wondered why she didn't pull off of him and then kick his scrawny ass to the curb (maybe with her foot up it), but when I asked Sandy that question, she ignored it. Sandy rolled over on the sofa so she could look me directly in the eye. "You remember when I told you about it and you asked me why she didn't stop him after he entered her? "Tina would kill me if she knew I told you this, so you have to keep it a secret, okay? But the reason she didn't stop him was because after it stopped hurting, she liked it. She liked it so much, in fact, that she came with his cock up her ass. She sort of stifled it and kept quiet, cause she was mad at Keith for taking her like that, after she had said no. But she came, and even though it was a huge surprise, she said it was unlike any orgasm she had ever had. She couldn't describe how it was different, just that it was. "I asked her if anal was something she would ever do again, and her answer was, 'Most definitely. Just not with Keith.' She said she never wanted to see him again, let alone do anal with him." "They'll be back together in a week," I sighed, shaking my head. I was wrong about that: it was actually nine days, not seven, before they reunited. Counting the couple of weeks that had already passed, that made it around twenty-three days, which I'm pretty sure was a record for them. And while I don't know this for certain, I don't doubt they went right back to him fucking her in the ass. "So, why all this interest in anal all of a sudden?" I asked. "Are you just talking or are you thinking about doing it?" I wasn't exactly subtle. When one of your favorite parts of the job is knocking big holes in things with heavy tools, it sort of affects your outlook on life and does away with subtlety. She hemmed and hawed a bit, making imaginary doodles on my chest with her finger, staring at my chest instead of looking at my face. "Kind of," she admitted, blushing. "If you wanted to. You'd have to use lots of lube and go really, really slow and be patient with me..." "I'm not Keith," I interrupted, a little annoyed at what seemed suspiciously like a comparison of the two of us. "Oh, I know!" she said quickly, kissing me lightly all over my bare chest. "You're not like Keith at all: you're a very good and patient lover." She paused and continued to kiss me. "Let me put it this way: I'm never going to ask you to put your dick in my butt," she cooed. "But if you said, 'Sandy, I want to fuck your ass,' I wouldn't say no." Having finally gotten the words out, she looked me in the face and smiled. I wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, though my cock seemed more certain than the rest of me. It began to get hard. When Sandy felt it poke her in the belly, she wrapped her hand around it very loosely and slowly stroked it, the look on her face not changing at all. "Sandy," I said quietly, "I'll hurt you, no matter how much lube we use. You know I will." I was Sandy's second lover. Her first had taken her virginity barely a year before, just about a week after high school graduation. That guy, however, must have been hung like a mouse. My cock, at six inches isn't especially long, but it is unusually thick. Think of R2-D2: not very tall, but solidly built and robust. When Sandy and I started having sex, it was almost like I took her virginity all over again. Our first two or three times doing it were fairly negative experiences for her: even though we used plenty of lube and I patiently took the time to make sure she was good and ready, it hurt quite a bit. After the first time, I was sure that was the end of any relationship we might have had. Obviously, though, it wasn't. "Do you remember the first time we had sex?" she asked softly. "I remember you didn't have a real good time," I said. That was putting it mildly: when I finished, she actually had tears in her eyes from how much it had hurt. "No, you're wrong," she said. "I had the best time of my life. You're right, it hurt, and as I was laying there taking it, all I could think was, 'I hope this is over soon'. And yeah, if that had been all, we probably wouldn't have dated again, or if we had, it's for sure we wouldn't have had sex again. "But do you remember what happened after you were done? You got rid of your condom, then came back and went down on me. Didn't say a word, just crawled between my legs and went to town. That was the first time anyone had ever eaten my pussy, and I couldn't believe how good it felt. By the time I made you stop, you'd been at it for nearly an hour and I had cum four or five times. "More than that, though, I was impressed that you cared enough to make sure I was satisfied. You had cum already; I figured when you came back from the bathroom you were going to roll over and go to sleep, just like Tim used to. But you didn't, and I decided right then and there that if you were that patient and considerate a lover, then I didn't care how thick you were. Either I'd get used to it - which I did - or part of foreplay would include me taking a couple of Advil or Tylenol," she giggled. "My point is, yeah, if you do me in the ass it's going to hurt, and it's going to hurt more than it would with somebody smaller. But the fact is, what happened with Tina's got me curious, and that means at some point in my life, I'm going to get fucked in the ass. It could be twenty or thirty years from now, but it's going to happen. And I want to do it with someone I know cares enough not to just go 'drilling for oil in my lower colon', which is how Tina described it. I don't want to risk my first time being with someone like Keith, because even if he's smaller than you, it's going to hurt more if he just up and drills me," she concluded. "So, it looks like Mr. Happy here is ready for another round," she smiled. "Only question is, would he like my hot little mouth, my soft and tight pink little pussy, or would he like to, ah, explore some 'virgin territory'?" All my former hesitancy about anal disappeared in an instant. A pretty girl was asking me to not only take her ass, but to be the very first? If I said no to an offer like that, I was pretty sure that was more than enough cause to have my "man card" revoked. Not to mention the fact that later in life, looking back on this moment, I'd never forgive myself. "I was thinking I might like to stick this hard cock up your pretty little ass," I smiled. "My pleasure," she said, smiling ear to ear. To keep from having to run around collecting what I needed later in the midst of intimacy, I asked her to retrieve a towel, the bottle of lube, and some condoms from the bathroom. The sofa was also a bed, so while she hurried off to get what we needed, I removed the sofa cushions and pulled out the bed frame. We climbed into the bed and started kissing, lightly at first and all over each other's faces and necks, then progressing to deep kissing as our tongues teased in and out of each other's mouths. She asked me to sit on the edge of the low bed with my legs over the side, which I did. She straddled my thigh as we made out. I could feel the heat and slippery wetness of her pussy as she pressed her vagina against the bare flesh of my thigh. Soon nearly the entire top of my thigh was coated in her slippery juices, and her nineteen-year-old pussy went skating, sliding forward and back as her hard clit was pressed between the weight of her upper body and my leg. As she ground on me, I moved down over her neck and to her breasts. They were large for her age, already 38-D, firm, and with extremely suckable nipples that seemed to get hard at the slightest touch. I placed my mouth over the right one, and she arched her back severely, thrusting her tits forward, as she pressed my face into her chest. "There you go," she cooed softly as she continued to grind away. "Suck Mommy's nipples." Apart from that one thing, she didn't have any particular Mommy fetish that I ever noticed, but she loved to have her sensitive nipples sucked. And when they were sucked, she liked to pretend she was breast-feeding a baby. It was a little odd, sure, but if that turned her on, I was more than happy to do it. Maryann and I both came to a conclusion long ago, long before we met: if there's something that turns you on during sex, as long as it's not illegal or disgusting (don't ask me to take a crap on you, for instance), go for it; it won't bother me a bit. And if I can help, just ask. I suckled her tight little pink nipple, making nursing sounds with my mouth, as she tenderly stroked the back of my head. I knew that each suck was sending little jolts of electricity through her, straight to her pussy. It wasn't long before it got a reaction out of her. "God, I need you inside me," she hissed through clenched teeth, and before I could say a word she raised up, moved her hips over, and lowered herself onto my cock. "Ohh!" she cried as I sank into her to the hilt. "I feel so full." Having me inside her no longer hurt, and her reward for having borne up under the pain of those first few times was a pussy that had adapted itself perfectly to the size and shape of my cock. When I was in her, she fit me like a glove. It was an intense sensation for her, feeling stuffed full of my cock. I had room, lengthwise, to fuck her as much as I wished, but in width, it was a snug but not uncomfortable fit that she compared to "a favorite pair of shoes" or "the feeling at the end of a large and sumptuous dinner when you have eaten just enough to feel pleasantly full yet not uncomfortable". She stroked me in and out of her slowly, raising herself forward and up until the head of my cock was just barely inside, pausing for a second, then sliding back down with excruciating slowness, only to repeat the process, as we each savored each other's bodies. We had to be careful: condoms were the only form of birth control we used, and I wasn't currently wearing one. Pregnancy was a huge fear for us both: though the sex was fantastic and we enjoyed each other's company, we were both realistic about our relationship. We weren't getting married, we weren't "always going to be together", or any of that. We were both simply a pleasant and pleasurable distraction for one another, a stopover along the road to whatever life had in store for us as individuals. The last thing we needed was an unwanted pregnancy to upset the apple cart. Experimental Anal I slid my mouth off of her nipple. "I want to stay in you," I breathed. "Get off for a second so I can put on a condom." "Okay." She raised up until my cock slipped free, slick with pussy juice from deep inside her body. She grabbed a condom, tore it open, and rolled it onto me. As soon as it was it was in place, she impaled herself once again on my shaft. With the threat of an accident removed, we were now able to really get into it. I reached for the bottle of lube and set it beside me, then reached and grabbed her ass cheeks. I pulled them apart, hard, causing her to gasp slightly. I told her to put her hands there and keep her ass open. Then I squeezed some of the lube into my hand, coated the index and middle fingers of my right hand, and wiped the excess on the towel. "You ready to feel my finger in your ass?" I asked her. "Oh, yeah," she moaned. "Slip your finger in my ass. Please. Get my ass all ready for your dick." I probed with my finger until I found the pink dimple of her asshole, then rubbed up and down, coating it thoroughly. That done, I put my finger against her pink hole and applied firm, steady pressure. She whimpered with both fear and frustration as the tight muscles of her sphincter refused to yield. She wanted me to do this; unlike Tina, she was a completely willing and cooperative partner, but still her body resisted out of a completely understandable fear. "Just relax," I said soothingly. "If you need me to stop, all you have to do is say so." That was another advantage of me taking her anal virginity: like I said, it didn't matter all that much to me, one way or the other. If she asked me to stop, I would, unlike someone lusting wolfishly for her backdoor who might not. "Okay," she said, closing her eyes and trying to force herself to relax. I took her nipple back in my mouth and circled it a couple of times with the tip of my tongue. Then, unexpectedly, I bit down. Not too hard, but definitely enough for her to feel it. "Oh!" she exclaimed in surprise, and as she did, her ass suddenly yielded to the pressure of my finger and it popped inside, all the way to the second knuckle. "Mmpf!" Oh, man, was the inside of her ass ever tight! Her ass muscles had a firm lock on my finger, and the outer sphincter muscle that had been tricked into letting my finger inside now had a tight grip on it. The image in my mind was of a bouncer grabbing hold of someone trying to sneak in and saying, "Hold it right there, Mister." "You okay?" I asked. "Mm hmm," she said tightly, her eyes still squinched close. "I'm okay. It's just...different. It doesn't hurt, but it's a little uncomfortable." I probed around inside her ass, not pulling my finger out or pressing it in deeper, just turning it and exploring this new alien environment it found itself in. "I feel your finger moving around in there," she giggled. "Sorry," I grimaced, and held my finger still. "No, don't stop. I kinda like it, actually." I explored a bit more, and pressed on the thin layer of tissue separating her ass and vagina. My finger could feel the shaft of my cock on the other side, and my cock could feel my finger pressing against it. That gave me an idea on how to make more room. I slid my finger back out. "No!" she whined, surprising me a little. "Put it back? Please?" "I will," I assured her. "I just want to do something first." I lifted her off my cock, stood, and lay her out on the bed with her feet hanging off the side. Then I took her by the ankles and separated her legs as far apart as was comfortable for her. Finally, I got the lube and re-lubed my fingers. I stretched out on my belly, between her legs, with my face inches from her pussy. One nice thing about Sandy (and Maryann, too) is that she was always eager to experiment sexually: one day I made the offhand comment that I had never yet had the opportunity to eat a shaved pussy. The next day was a 24-hour duty shift for me and she called me at the station around 8:00 at night just to chat. When I casually asked her what she was doing, her answer was, "Grooming", and she declined to elaborate. The next morning, she welcomed me back to my apartment (we didn't live together) with a hot breakfast and the gift of a perfectly shaved pussy. What I did with that gift drove her so insane that ever since, shaving her pussy had become as much a part of her morning routine as shaving her legs. I licked slowly around her lips and probed her vagina with my tongue until her hips were in almost constant motion on the bed. Then, finally, I licked and sucked her hard clit into my mouth, and at the same time, pressed against her asshole with my index finger. This time, I was granted entrance immediately. "Ahh," she sighed happily as her fingers played with her nipples. I slipped my finger deeper in her ass, creeping along at a glacial pace, watching for any sign of pain or distress as I licked and sucked her clit, but I met no resistance as I slid my whole finger into her. "Doing okay?" I asked. "Doing wonderful," she said dreamily. "How deep are you?" "My whole index finger's in you," I answered. "Think you're ready for a second finger?" "Oh, yes," she purred. "Please." I slipped my index finger out all the way, then put my two lubed fingers together and pressed. This time I met some resistance, but only for a couple of seconds. Unlike earlier with her on top and her pussy stuffed full of my cock, I got the sense that her ass was much more welcoming of my fingers. She jumped a little as if startled when my fingers entered her this time. "Oh!" she cried out sharply. "That hurt a bit." It must not have hurt much, though, because she giggled. When she did, I could feel the vibrations of her entire body transmitted through the walls of her ass. "Sorry. Let me know when you're ready." It took a few seconds, but soon she was ready, and I advanced my fingers slowly and steadily. There was no resistance or painful reaction from her, and in just a few seconds, my index and middle finger were all the way inside. "That's it," I said proudly. "Two fingers, all the way in. How does it feel?" She thought for a moment. "You're not going to believe this, but it feels fantastic. I can feel your fingers stimulating my pussy and my clit, but it's indirect. I can't really explain it. All I know is I like it." I played with her ass for a minute or two, as I licked and teased her pussy and clit. She seemed to be having a good time. After a bit, she looked at me and her eyes locked to mine in a very deep moment. "I think I'm ready to feel a cock in there now," she said, smiling. I withdrew my fingers and stood, and she sat up. I decided to swap out my condom and since the condoms were closer to her, she got one out. She sat with her legs crossed under her, and kissed the tip of my cock, licking away a drop of pre-cum. Then she opened the wrapper and rolled the condom into place. I took the lube and thoroughly covered it. She held out her hand for some lube, which I gave her, then she reached back and coated her ass with it. We both wiped any excess on the towel. "How do you want to do this?" I asked. "You can get on all fours, with your head down, sort of doggy style, or you can lie on your back with a pillow under your hips and your legs on my shoulders, or you can do it like an enema: lie on your side and draw your knees up." She decided the third option sounded best. She stretched out on her right side, drew her knees up close to her chin, and wrapped her arm around the back of her thighs to help hold her legs in place. She looked nervous, and I imagine I looked at least a little nervous myself. Her hips rounded, and her little pink asshole stared at the cock that would soon penetrate it. "You ready?" I asked. She breathed deeply a couple of times and then nodded. "Ready as I'll ever be." I put my cock at her asshole, nestling the tip in the divot, and wrapped my fingers around the base to hold it there. Then I began to gently but firmly press forward. "Gently...gently...aaaaah!!!" After a few seconds of pressure, her ass yielded to my cock, and the entire head popped inside. Her wail could have woken the dead and it startled me enough that I almost jerked back and out. I wasn't worried about waking the dead. What I was worried about was scaring the neighbors into calling 911 and reporting that a woman was being murdered. I could just see myself wrapped in only a bathrobe, standing at the door, explaining that one: "Murder? Oh, no, nothing like that. I was simply fucking my girlfriend in the ass for the first time and it must have hurt more than she thought it would, that's all." I don't know which would have been worse: telling them that, or them asking her to confirm my story: "Yes, it's true, officers. Having a cock in your ass hurts like hell." Worse still, in the year and a half I had been a firefighter, I had gotten to know several of the city cops, and a few I counted as friends. Whether it was my friends who happened to come to the door or not didn't matter: either way, it would only be a matter of hours - or days, if I was lucky - before nearly all the officers in the whole damn city would know. I think the only thing a cop loves more than donuts is a good story. I would never live it down. "You okay?" I asked, not moving my cock a millimeter either way. "HELL NO, I'M NOT OKAY!" she roared, panting. "I HAVE A DICK THE SIZE OF A FUCKING SUMMER SAUSAGE UP MY ASS! WHY DO YOU THINK I'M OKAY?" Then she giggled. "But if you pull it out of my ass, I will break my foot off in yours, okay?" Okay, thanks for clearing that up for the neighbors so loudly, I thought: "Never mind, 911. False alarm. It was just a woman with a really big dick in her ass. You have a nice day, too, Dispatch." "Okay," I said, realizing how close I had just come to a very hard to explain trip to the ER: "So, how exactly did you end up with a woman's foot broken off halfway up your large intestine? And don't say you fell on it." She laughed, surprising me. What a bizarre sight we must have been: a pretty and petite blonde, lying naked on a sofa bed with her knees pulled up to her chin, her anal sphincter stretched like a pink rubber band around the head of a thick cock (for the record, "summer sausage" is an exaggeration), which in turn was attached to a big burly and similarly naked firefighter. "You see, it's like this...Nah, forget it. There's no way in hell to explain this one." She lay there and concentrated on relaxing. "I'm okay," she said in a much calmer tone. "It's just that I wasn't quite expecting it to hurt that much. But you're in there, and I want to keep going, as long as you want to. Just give me a little time to get used to it." After a minute or two, she asked for more, and I pushed into her a little further. Twice more she asked me to stop and wait for a few seconds, but before long, all six inches were inside. When she felt my balls touch her butt cheeks, she smiled proudly. "We did it," she said in a mock cheer. "Yay!" I could feel her ass muscles rippling along my shaft and told her how good her ass felt. "Guess I'd better enjoy it while it lasts, since Mr. Happy's never going to get invited back." "That's not true," she pouted, playfully thrusting out her lower lip. Then her voice changed, becoming much more sensual. "Actually, now that you're inside me, it feels pretty damn good, to tell you the truth. It still hurts a bit, but I kind of like it. I don't think I'm going to cum, at least not this time, but you're more than welcome to do what you need to do. I know you'll take care of me later; you're good for it." She gave me a look that was pure lust and licked her lips hungrily. "So how about it, big boy?" she breathed. "You want to fuck me?" I began thrusting in and out of her slowly, carefully, and not moving back and forth more than an inch or two at a time, but as she relaxed more and more she drove me on with cries of "Faster!" and "Deeper!" and before long I was fucking her ass almost like it was her pussy. I watched her face carefully, not wanting to hurt her, and watched for any sign of pain or distress that would tell me to slow down or stop. But she kept her eyes locked to mine the entire time, and her lustful smile never wavered a bit. It wasn't long before I felt the familiar tingle in my loins that told me my orgasm was near. She detected the change even before I told her. "Oh, yeah, cum in me, baby," she hissed. "Cum in my tight little ass. I want to feel your cock jerk inside me. Give it to me." She kept up a constant barrage of dirty talk, encouraging me as my orgasm got closer. "You know what I want you to do next time you fuck my ass?" she said. "What's that?" I panted. "I want you to do it without a condom. I want to feel all that hot, gooey cum shoot up in me, all up in my colon. I want you to give me an anal cream pie. You want to do that, baby? You want to mark my ass as yours with your cum, to say 'this ass belongs to me'. I want you to do that. I want you to claim my ass. Will you do that for me?" That did it. I slammed my cock deep inside her one last time and felt my cock spasm inside as my cum shot into her body. The fact that it didn't make it past the end of the condom was immaterial. As far as I was concerned, I was filling her backside full of my hot cum. As soon as I thrust into her and froze that last time, she opened her legs slightly and diddled her clit furiously. She was so incredibly wet that it sounded like a child splashing in a mud puddle. Before my own orgasm was finished, hers began. "Oh, God!" she cried. "OhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGoddddddd! Unnh!" Every muscle in her body seemed to constrict at the same instant, including the muscles inside her ass, and as hard as I fought to remain inside that beautiful ass, I was forced out. After a few seconds her muscles released their tight, frozen state, but the assault on her body wasn't over. Ironically, the first time she got pounded in the ass was also the first time she discovered she was multi-orgasmic. "I'm still cumming!" she cried, sounding panicked, nearly terrified as her second orgasm began before the first was completely finished. There was a horrible, almost inhuman screech as her lungs fought to suck in air, struggling against muscles that were trying to force the air out of her. Without bothering to dispose of the used condom, I climbed onto the bed and held her tightly in my arms. Then a third: "Oh, God, why am I still cumming?" she cried. Mercifully, the third was weak and brief, and was the last of them. When it was over, she was collapsed and exhausted on the bed like a pile of boneless flesh that lacked structure of any kind. As she lay there immobile, occasionally she would jerk as an aftershock hit her. I simply lay there and held her, waiting for her to recover. It took five minutes or more for her to be able to move or even respond, and then five minutes before she was able to say anything more coherent than gibberish. When she finally came to her senses, I tilted her head up to look at me and smiled. "So...was it good for you, too?" ================================== So, what do you think of Brian's first foray into the world of erotic fiction? He hasn't asked, but I'm just curious what you thought. Before you criticize him too harshly, I should probably point out that once upon a time he made his living climbing ladders with one arm while carrying full grown adults in the other, and he used to routinely bench nearly five hundred pounds. Y'know, just saying... No, I'm only kidding. Brian IS a very large and very strong man; that much is true. But he is also a gentle giant who would not hurt a fly. Literally. How do I know? Because as I write this, for the third day in a row a little black, hairy spawn of Satan is having a grand time buzzing around me, and Brian has not interceded on my behalf. I, however, am not nearly so merciful toward insects, and my patience is at an end. Come here, you little bastard... Experimental Animal Subject 405 is a male human of 37 years of age. He has been housed in our facility in northern Montana for 152 days. As you can see from these images, he is healthy and fit. He experiences frequent sexual tumescence both when he is awake and (as in this picture) asleep. We've found that tumescence in sleep is normal in males of his species. The chip we installed in his brain controls his sexual responses, with the effect that he has not experienced sexual release for the entire duration of his captivity. It has rarely been necessary for us to stimulate his sexual centers to keep him in a state of arousal - he seems to be naturally highly-sexed. That he is both emotionally and physically frustrated is plainly evident from this graph ... ----- Captain Matthew Jordan, U.S. Army, completed his 200th crunch. He allowed himself to rest for a few minutes, sweating on the cold concrete floor. Then he drank some water, rolled over, and began to do pushups. Matt didn't know how long he'd been imprisoned, naked and alone, in this windowless blank concrete cell. The recessed fluorescent lights never went off; he existed in a state of perpetual bright artificial light. He received food - granola bars, apples, corn tortillas, peanuts - through a hatch in the door, along with bottles of water. Whoever they were, they gave him more food than he could consume; he kept it stacked neatly in the "pantry," the corner farthest from the drain. The drain was his latrine. They also made sure he had soap and extra water, for washing. He hadn't seen another human being, or heard another human voice, since he awakened here. He was well-fed and treated, but subject to sensory deprivation and solitary confinement. Torture, according to the Geneva Convention, if it went on long enough. Matt had learned about its effects in the army: prisoners in could begin hearing voices, could lose track of reality. Matt's restless mind had begun manufacturing violent, frighteningly vivid fantasies some time ago. Elaborate, wildly erotic fantasies of sex, agonizing because they never resulted in orgasm. Cruel, vengeful fantasies of torturing and mutilating his imaginary captors. The sexual deprivation was the worst part. He didn't understand it - they must have done something to his head - but he couldn't masturbate. If he was hard, he couldn't touch himself; he couldn't even rub up against a wall. He hadn't come, not so much as a wet dream, in ages. Not that he didn't want to. Jesus, he had nothing to do in here but think, think of all the things he wanted - and, as time went on, he wanted two things. To fuck, and to murder his captors. He could still tell the difference between fantasy and reality. So far. Physical exercise was the only thing keeping him sane. He'd tried leaping up to break the lights, but they were housed behind thick plastic shields, and the ceiling was too high for him to gain any purchase on them. He'd tried shouting, pleading, feigning illness, refusing to eat. Nothing had ever garnered any response. The hunger strike was a bad idea anyway, he'd decided. He needed to be in good shape if he was ever going to escape from this place, wherever it was. And he would escape, he told himself, grunting slightly with each push-up. He allowed hatred for his unseen captors to flow into his veins and muscles, turning his boredom, loneliness, and frustration into hot venom. He would escape, and he would come back, and he would slaughter every one of the bastards. Whoever they were. ----- Day 153. Subject 405 is continuing his regimen of callisthenic and aerobic exercises. Crew G is in place in a nearby cell, and a heavy snowstorm has been forecast for tomorrow morning. Blackout is scheduled for three hours after dawn. ----- Matt lay on his back in the corner of his cell he had designated as his "bedroom." He closed his eyes against the bright light, and saw the glowing red of the inside of his eyelids. Inevitably, he longed for human touch, and his cock began to grow and throb. "Damn it," he whispered. He imagined reaching down, grabbing his shaft in his fist, stroking up and down. His hands didn't move. He strained for it, but nothing happened, except that he became hard as a rock. A bead of moisture seeped out of the tip of his cock. He imagined that he weren't alone, that a woman was there to take care of his need - she would stroke him, rub him between her breasts, lean down and suck the head into her wet mouth. No relief. Pain, a constant companion, spread out from his testicles and radiated through his pelvis. He groaned. Then the red light in his eyes disappeared. There was a loud click. He opened his eyes. It was dark. Pitch black. For the first time in God knew how long, the lights weren't on. A power failure? Matt got to his feet, feeling dizzy and disoriented. He held the wall for support. There was a little light, though - a thin vertical wedge of gray against the blackness. After a moment, he realized what it was: The door to his cell was open. A power failure. The lights were out. The electronic locks on the doors had failed - that was the sharp click he'd heard. He went to the door, which was standing ajar, and looked out into a dim corridor. It was daytime. There were narrow windows high above his head, giving him a view of a stormy gray sky, lighting a long, featureless concrete hallway. Matt looked up and down the corridor, hesitating in the doorway. He was naked, alone, defenseless. Afraid to leave his cell. "Get a fucking grip," he snarled at himself. This was his chance. He turned back to his cell, grabbed a bottle of water and a package of tortillas, and forced himself to walk out the door. He turned right at random and began to walk, quickly, but not in a panic, his bare feet silent on the cool floor. His heart was pounding wildly with excitement; adrenaline was pouring through him. He forced himself to breathe deeply, to move deliberately. As he passed the open doorway to another cell, he shoved it open, letting the dim daylight shine in. The cell was empty. So was the next one. He pushed the third door open, and paused. He didn't see anyone, but there was a store of food in one corner, like his own "pantry." This cell had housed a prisoner. Had they already left? He stepped into the cell and cautiously looked into the hidden space behind the door. It was a woman. In the dimness, he could see that she was as naked as he was. She cowered in the corner behind the door, trying to hide her breasts with her hands. He had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. ----- Every effort was made to make Crew G attractive to Subject 405. She appears to be a young and fit human female, somewhat smaller than him (as is the norm with this species), with prominent secondary sexual characteristics. Some debate went into her features; standards of attractiveness among human females are highly variable. She is equipped with relatively large eyes, prominent lips, and plentiful hair, all of which are generally considered desirable in Subject 405's culture. ----- Matt dropped his tortillas. He hadn't seen another human being in so long, he was speechless. She was a vision of curvy bare flesh, tousled hair, huge dark eyes. Full breasts, inadequately hidden behind her hands; sweet thighs pressed together, a triangle of soft hair hiding her sex. For a moment he didn't know if this was reality or fantasy. Lust surged through his body. He wanted to grab her and throw her on the floor, spread those thighs, bury his aching cock inside her. The need to escape was almost overridden by his intense desire to fuck her, hard, now. His hands obeyed him: he couldn't touch himself, but he could touch her. He reached for her. She whimpered with fear. Belatedly, he noticed that she was terrified, shrinking back into the corner away from him. She was scared to death, staring at his big hands and quivering erect cock like he was her greatest nightmare. Jesus. This was real, and he was not a rapist. Matt stepped back, away from her. He managed to get back out into the corridor, and pressed his hands against the wall, head down, breathing hard. After a moment, he managed to say, "Come on out, honey. I won't hurt you." She didn't answer. He said, "Look, we're in this together. We're both prisoners here. This is our chance to escape. Come on with me, honey. Let's get out of here." When she didn't answer, he added, "We may not have a lot of time." Faintly, she said, "You go first. I'll follow you." "Okay. Bring some food and water with you; we don't know where we're going or how long it'll take to get there." He began walking down the corridor; he couldn't hear her behind him, but he didn't look back. After a moment, he asked, "Do you know where we are?" "No," said her soft voice behind him. "I woke up here - I'm not sure how long ago. I don't know what's going on." "Neither do I." Matt kept pushing upon cell doors. He didn't find any more prisoners. "But we're getting out. What's your name?" "Trish Heywood." "Matt Jordan. I'm sorry I scared you back there. I promise I'm not going to hurt you." She didn't answer. He glanced over his shoulder at her. Her hair was thick and tawny, gold-streaked brown; in the dimness, he couldn't see the color of her eyes. She had a pretty, soft-featured face, and (he couldn't help but notice) a smoking little body. She flinched when he looked at her and faltered back; he averted his eyes and kept walking. "Really," he repeated. "I'm not going to hurt you." "The last one did," she whispered. "What?" "They let another prisoner into my cell once," she said. "A naked man, like you. He raped me." God. "I'm sorry, honey," he said, sincerely. "He said he couldn't help it; that they had done something to him, that he had to take me." After a pause, she added, "It was awful. I wanted to kill myself, but they wouldn't let me." "It won't happen again," he promised, gritting his teeth with guilt. He knew exactly why the guy had raped her; he'd almost been that guy. "What the hell is going on in this place?" he whispered. "I don't know," she said. ----- That Subject 405 is a highly-sexed and aggressive male of his species has already been amply documented. Yet, as his initial interactions with Crew G make clear, his socialization towards frightened and helpless females is stronger than his mating instinct. ----- The corridor ended in a heavy fire-door. Matt took a deep breath and shoved it open. Icy-cold air swirled in. He looked out in dismay at an empty field, covered in at least a foot of snow. The sky was low and gray and filled with snowflakes. In the distance, beyond the deserted field, a jagged blue line of white-capped mountains stood. "Damn," Matt said, letting the heavy door fall closed. "Trish, we're in trouble. We'll freeze to death out there." "Look," she said. He turned and saw that she'd found treasure. What he'd assumed was yet another empty cell was actually some kind of storeroom. Trish had opened a large trunk. She held a man's shirt against her chest with an expression of joy. "Clothes!" she said. They were masculine clothes: socks and shoes, pants and shirts and coats. They began to put on layers of ill-fitting clothes: long johns, jeans, two or three shirts. Matt watched Trish from the corner of his eye. He couldn't help it: it had been so long since he'd seen another human, and she was so lovely. She pulled on a men's waffle-weave long-johns top that clung to her body amazingly. She seemed so happy to have something to wear that she didn't notice the way it hugged her trembling breasts and outlined her sweet nipples, clung to her supple little waist, dipped in at her navel. He was sorry to see her cover up with a heavy flannel shirt and wool overcoat. Matt was wildly stimulated, not just by the sight of Trish, but by the sensation of cloth against his aching balls and hypersensitive penis. He was fully erect and taut with need; his breath was coming hard, though he tried to suppress it. His mind was filled with the fantasy of crowding Trish up against a wall and pressing himself against her, grinding against that sweet body until he came. He looked away from her, stamped into some boots. They were a little too big; he wore extra socks. "You about ready to get out of here?" he asked, gruffly. They left the building and fled across the empty field, their boots crunching through snow, their breath coming in clouds. It was snowing hard, which was good - it would cover their tracks. They ran towards the shelter of the woods, where there would be more cover from searchers. Matt looked back over his shoulder at the low, strange, featureless compound they'd just escaped from. "I wonder why no one is chasing us," he said. "Maybe they're busy trying to get the power back on," Trish said. Matt gave the compound one last look, struggling with the nagging feeling that this escape had gone too easily. "Maybe," he said. ----- Crew G's task is to keep him balanced between his strong biological desire to mate and his equally strong, socially-imposed desire to protect the weak. We are most curious to see which of these drives is more powerful in the human male. ----- Trish suggested they go west. As they walked through the heavy snow, his admiration for Trish grew. She kept up. She didn't complain. After a few hours, she sensibly suggested they stop and drink and eat, and when it was time to go again she got up willingly, dusted off, and set out without grumbling. She had relaxed with him considerably; she no longer cringed when he looked at her. Which was good. He looked at her a lot. They were both warm from the exertion of their hike; Trish had opened her coat and her flannel; he could see the soft bobbing sway of her unbound breasts in that tight waffle-knit top. She had a tendency to cross her arms under her breasts as she walked, supporting them. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkling. There had been no sign of pursuit, or of any other human habitation at all. Wherever they were, they were high in the mountains and far from civilization. The woods were dense and roadless and profoundly silent, the only sound the soft hiss of falling snow. As they topped another rise, to see nothing but more woods spread out below them, Matt stopped in frustration. It was late afternoon; it would start to get dark soon. "I'd hoped to come across a highway or a farm or something by now," he said. "What's that over there?" Trish asked. She was pointing at a dark shadow some distance into the trees. "Could it be a house?" she asked, excitement in her voice. It was a cabin, tiny and uninhabited, half snowed-in. The door was locked, of course, but Trish found a key on top of the door sill. Pushing the door open, Matt stared around in amazement. "Un-fucking-believable," he said. ----- Our studies of American popular culture led us to believe that a secluded shelter from inclement weather is considered to be highly conducive to mating by humans of both sexes. ----- The one-room cabin was apparently someone's fully-stocked love-nest. One corner featured a cast-iron wood stove and a huge stack of chopped firewood. Another corner had a refrigerator/freezer and a propane stove. The refrigerator hummed. There was a generator. In the center of the room was a king-sized bed, covered with wool blankets, tasseled pillows, and a thick down comforter. The room was cold, but inviting and cozy. Romantic. "Start a fire," suggested Trish. "I'm going to go use the privy." And she left, making her way to the tiny outhouse out back. He lit a fire in the wood stove and checked the kitchen area. There were filet mignon steaks in the freezer. The fridge held champagne and a tightly-wrapped fruitcake, glossy with rum and dark preserved fruits. In the pantry, he found water crackers, jars of caviar, and tins of smoked oysters. "This is crazy," he muttered. "Why?" asked Trish, coming back in, stamping the snow off her feet. She went over to the wood stove and began taking off her coat. "What's wrong?" Matt sat down on the floor, putting his head in his hands. He'd met a beautiful girl. He'd escaped without danger or pursuit. Now he'd found a ridiculously romantic little hideaway in the snow. There was champagne and oysters, for fuck's sake. It couldn't possibly be real. He must have finally lost grip on reality and had dreamed up a far more pleasant alternate version. He was probably still back in the concrete cell, dreaming, or hallucinating. This was the escape fantasy of a sick man. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force himself to wake up. He opened his eyes. Still in the cabin. It was starting to get warm; Trish had taken off her coat and flannel shirt, and knelt before him. Her eyes were a lovely hazel and they were full of concern as she gazed at him. He looked at her pretty face, entirely too aware of her breasts, deliciously outlined by her top. "What's the matter?" she asked. "This can't be real," he confessed. "It's too perfect. You're too perfect. I think I've finally lost my mind and I'm imagining all of this." "Oh," she said, sitting back on her heels. Her hair, loose around her shoulders, shone golden-brown in the fading light from the windows. Her breasts were loose and soft in her shirt. Her borrowed men's pants were slipping down around her hips, so he could see a little slice of bare flesh at her waist between her shirt and the top of her pants. Her skin looked soft, pale, and vulnerable. He looked away. After a moment, she asked, "If you were imagining this, wouldn't I be willing to have sex with you?" He dragged his gaze back to her. "Yes," he admitted. She quirked her eyebrows and gave him a little sideways smile. "Well then," she said. "This must be real. Come on, get up. Let's see if there's anything to eat." She hopped to her feet and walked, perky little ass swaying, to the little pantry. "Ooh look! Cake!" ----- Perhaps the cabin was too elaborate. ----- They ate smoked salmon and crackers and cake. Trish wanted to open a bottle of champagne, but Matt insisted they stay sober, in case their captors pursued them. They were both tired; Matt suggested Trish take the bed. He would be quite comfortable on the Navajo rug on the floor. "I want to heat some water and wash," Trish said. She looked at him hesitantly - shy, appealing, nervous. "Will you ... keep your back turned?" The idea of her getting naked and giving herself a sponge-bath in his presence was enough to bring on an agonizing erection. "I'll go outside," he managed to say. So he spent half an hour stamping his feet in the snow outside as it grew dark, imagining her naked and wet and warm inside. He curled his hands towards his groin, but the compulsion in his brain was still in place - he was unable to reach down and give himself release. Standing alone in the cold night, hurting and thwarted, went a long way towards banishing the idea that this was all a flight of the imagination. When he went back in, she was in bed, covered up, invisible except for her damp, tousled hair. She'd left him some warm water. He stripped and, keeping his back to the bed, sponged himself down, obeying the hated compulsion to avoid touching his groin. He had no idea whether she watched him or not. It doesn't matter, he told himself firmly. Some strange man had already savaged her; it wouldn't happen again. He pulled on his long johns and lay down on the rug beside the bed. Experimental Animal It was dark, and silent. Matt was exhausted. He hadn't exercised so much in months, nor eaten so well. But he couldn't sleep. He was stupid with lust. His cock felt heavy and huge, a thick throbbing presence against his belly. The need had never been this bad before. He wondered if she was naked, in that bed. He wondered if her rape had killed her sexual desire; if she was ever hot for a man. He wondered if she'd mind jacking him off, just once, if he promised not to touch her. If he begged. "You're not okay, are you?" she whispered. "No," he grated. He heard her get out of bed and knelt on the rug beside him. He kept his eyes shut. He didn't dare look at her. He didn't think he could control himself. "I never realized how difficult it must be for you," she said softly. After a moment, she said faintly, "I shouldn't do this." "Do what?" he whispered. "This," she said. He felt her hands take him out of his pants; his breath hitched and his hands clenched. He couldn't move or speak or open his eyes; he lay rigidly as he felt her wrap one hand around his shaft. Her hair fell softly on his belly and thighs. A stroke of wetness - her little pointed tongue - on the very tip of his penis nearly brought him off the floor. Then her mouth opened and took him in, so slowly and hesitantly he thought he might scream. She had never done this before, obviously. Probably wasn't even sure what she was supposed to do. She didn't bob her head or stimulate him with her tongue, just slowly sucked him in, as deep as she could. She didn't know how to take him into her throat and so stopped with half his cock lodged in her mouth, her hand wrapped around the base of his shaft. It was enough; it was amateurish and clumsy and more than enough. "Oh God," groaned Matt. Inevitability gripped him. "I'm going to come," he breathed. "Hold still, don't, don't -" Don't stop, he wanted to say, as orgasm roared through him in a long savage rush, almost as painful as it was pleasurable. He lay still, stars dancing in his vision, his throat aching as though he had screamed. Maybe he had. His dick was still pulsing as she pulled back, releasing him from her mouth. He heard her swallow; she put one hand over her mouth. "Oh," she said, sounding utterly horrified. "I can't believe I just did that." ----- No, we have no idea why she did that. Yes, I understand that Crew G has just aborted the entire experiment. I don't know what to say. She was thoroughly briefed on her goals. She would never have been selected for this mission if she hadn't always been an exemplary agent. ----- She curled up beside him on the rug; he wrapped his arms around her slight body and buried his face in her hair. "Thank you, honey," he whispered. "Thank you. I don't know why you did it either, but I needed that so bad." "Did it hurt?" she asked, sounding bewildered. "A little," Matt admitted. She looked at him, so serious and shy in the dim light. "Can I do anything else to help?" He hesitated. "I don't want to scare you, Trish," he said. "I don't know what you're ready for." "I am scared," she said softly. "I don't know, either. But ... tell me what to do. If I don't want to, I won't." He stroked her face. "You stop me if I want too much, okay?" She nodded, and he said, "Hold my balls." She cupped his testicles and he said, "Gentle. Just rub them a little, gentle. Oh yeah." Her slow massage of his balls began to ease the knot of pain and tension that had been lodged there for months. Matt lay still, his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of her body. After a while, he cupped her face and began to kiss her. God, she was sweet. He brushed his mouth against her full lips, gently and slowly, and she kissed him back. He stroked his tongue along her upper lip, and she opened her mouth and sucked his tongue. He thought of the way he'd just come into that warm mouth, and blood began to surge back into his penis, which, tirelessly, began to lift and harden. He groaned. "Trish, do you want to stop?" "No," she whispered. "It's so interesting." He laughed. "You act like you've never seen a guy get a hard-on before," he said. "Do you want me to suck on it again?" she asked innocently. He looked at her. Her eyes were dark, her cheeks flushed. Her lips were wet and full from kissing. He pulled back a little and looked down at her body; her nipples were erect, pouting against the cloth of her shirt. "What do you want?" She didn't answer; her face was a picture of temptation and doubt. He leaned over and kissed her again, licking his tongue deep into her mouth. Her head dropped back in acquiescence, one hand curling around his neck, the other still gently massaging his balls. He cupped her breast and stroked the nipple through the loose cotton of her shirt, and felt more than heard the tiny sound of arousal she made. Matt laid her down on the floor and slid his hands up under her shirt. He pulled back from the kiss just enough to look into her eyes as he began inching the shirt up; he saw nothing but compliance in her eyes, so he pulled the shirt off over her head. Her pants followed; then he stood up, shucked off his own clothes. As he pulled off his long johns he reached down automatically to adjust his balls, and realized that he could. "Will you look at that," he said. For the first time in months, he could touch himself when he was aroused. He stared down at her supine body for a long moment, rubbing his palm up and down over his erect dick, and then lay back down beside her, smiling with happiness. "I am obviously living in a dream world," he said to her. "You don't think this is real?" she asked, accepting him into her open arms. "Nope. But I don't mind." She was as sleek and tawny as a cat, streamlined and lithe, except for those amazing plump breasts. He palmed them, rolling the sensitive nipples against his thumbs, and watched her body arch with pleasure. He sucked on them, gently first and then hard, using his tongue to press the nipples against the roof of his mouth. She moaned his name, her hands in his hair. He didn't want to wait any more, and God knew she seemed ready. His body fit perfectly against hers, her hips cradling his, the arches of her feet cupping the muscles of his calves. He lay on top of her and rubbed the head of his cock against the lips of her pussy, stroking it through her wetness. The sensation was exquisite for both of them; her eyes closed, and she whispered, "Oh, oh, oh," as she opened her thighs. His fingers and cock were thoroughly wet as he nudged his cock against her clit. Her reaction was astonished. Matt asked breathlessly, "Trish honey, are you a virgin?" "No, of course not," she said. "I just - It's never been quite so -" Her previous lovers were assholes, apparently. "Hold me," he said. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her knees to clasp him with her thighs. He positioned himself at her opening and thrust gently, and oh God, he slid into her so sweetly. He kissed her with open mouth, sucking her tongue against his, and pushed all the way inside her. They both moaned. He used his wet fingers to stimulate her clit as he ground into her in tiny restrained thrusts, being as gentle and soft as he could stand it. The effort of going slow and pleasing her made sweat break out on his shoulders. And it was worth it, because she loved it. Her body moved with him, taking him deeper. She kissed him with little moans of delight, clasping him with her thighs. Her hips began snapping up to meet his, letting her body slap against his with each thrust. He wasn't going to last long if she kept doing that, but he hardly had the strength to stop her. She was right there with him: he saw the flush of arousal spread over her chest and throat, saw her body begin to writhe as she approached orgasm. "Come on, come on," he chanted as he fucked her, less gently now that his own climax was coming fast. And she did. She was beautiful when she came, sobbing with pleasure, her body shuddering with delight. He closed his eyes and felt a second scorching orgasm seize him; his hips bucked uncontrollably as he spurted into her. This time there was no pain, only pleasure, and exquisite relief. He collapsed on top of her. ----- I'm beginning to understand what happened to Crew G. It was necessary for the completion of her mission that she be accurate. She has the body of a human female; she is biologically correct, down to the last detail. She has human sexual organs, too, and with them, apparently, human sexual urges. No, we didn't foresee that she might act upon these sexual urges. How could we? How could anyone expect that one of us might ever behave like one of them? ----- "I wonder if it's Christmas," Matt murmured. He and Trish were cuddled on the thick Navajo rug in front of the fire, naked, content. "It feels like Christmas." "What does Christmas feel like to you?" "Oh," he said, "not Rudolph or Santa or any of that commercial stuff," Matt said thoughtfully. "My folks always said it was a time when wishes come true. I guess that's what it feels like. Lucky. Happy." She smiled, gorgeously, in the firelight. "That's how I feel, too," she said. After a moment's more thinking, Matt added in a hard voice, "I'll tell you another thing. They fucked with the wrong guy when they picked me up, Trish." "They did?" she asked. "Why?" "I'm army," he said. "Military police. I've been working as an investigator with the Defense Department for four years. I can have troops here within six hours of finding a phone, no matter where in the world we are. That's if I don't go back myself and start killing people myself," he added savagely. "They are dead men." In the dimness, he could see her big dark eyes, brows quirked with concern. "You sound very angry," she whispered. "Angry?" He stared at her. "Trish - I am so angry I could commit murder with my bare hands. And that's for what they did to me." He pushed her hair back from her face. "For what they did to you - setting you up to be raped - for that, I would torture them first, then kill them. How can you even ask if I'm angry?" She hid her face in his chest; Matt realized that he was trembling with fury. He forced himself to take deep breaths and to calm down. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm scaring you. I just - I just want you to know that it's going to be over soon. The people who did this to us will pay. I promise, Trish." She didn't say anything, didn't lift her face from his shoulder. He strove to lighten the tone. "What will you do when you get back home, huh?" he asked, nudging her a little. "What do you do for a living anyway, Trish?" "What do I look like I do for a living?" she whispered. He cuddled her against his chest, his cheek against her hair. "Uh, you look like a woman who doesn't want to answer questions about herself." She stroked his chest and didn't answer. "That's fine," said Matt. "That's okay. I was just thinking ..." "What?" "That maybe, wherever you're from, you could move. To Virginia, to live with me. If you wanted." She said nothing, her face hidden by her hair, and he added, teasingly, "Think about how nice it would be. In the morning I'd go off to my job at the Pentagon, and you'd go off to your job being mysterious and refusing to answer questions. And in the evening, we'd come home and have dinner. And then I'd tell you about my day, and you'd tell me about yours. We'd walk the dog - do you like dogs? - and maybe watch a little TV. And then we'd go to bed and make love all night long, and in the morning off we'd go to work again." "When would we sleep?" she asked, a little giggle in her voice. "Maybe I'd catch a nap at lunch." She didn't say anything for a long while; he thought she may have fallen asleep. He closed his eyes, and felt himself begin to glide towards sleep. Just as he was drifting off, he thought he heard her say sadly, "It does sound nice." ----- The cold woke Matt up. He blinked around, confused, before he realized where he was. Trish wasn't lying with him any more, and the fire in the stove had burned down to embers. She was standing in the little kitchen area, wrapped in a flannel shirt and looking out the window. Moonlight was coming in, outlining her long sweet legs with light; the shirt she wore wasn't very long, and he could see the shadowed crease where the plump cheeks of her ass curved into her thighs. Matt found that he was up for more sex. He fed wood into the stove and then went up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back against his naked body. Only then did he notice that she was crying. "Trish," he whispered, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "What's wrong?" "Matt, I have to tell you something. This whole situation - you know how you thought it wasn't real? Your instincts are good." She turned in his arms to face him; she was obviously anxious, upset. "This isn't a fantasy, but it isn't real, either. It's ... actually a setup. A ... a test." He stared at her, his brow knotted with confusion. "What are you saying?" "I'm saying that the people who held you prisoner let you escape. Here, with me. To see what you would do." Matt stared at her in the moonlight for a long time, his heart beating erratically, pounding in his ears. Her face was so lovely - not classically beautiful, but pretty, soft-lipped, with large, innocent eyes. He couldn't speak. Trish went on, "They meant no harm, Matt. They didn't understand ..." "They?" Matt asked softly. "Don't you mean we?" She licked her lips. "I'm one of them, yes," she admitted. "The rape," he said. His voice came out gritty. "Were you testing that guy, too?" "There was no rape. You're our first experimental subject - there haven't been any others yet." "Damn you!" he roared at her, and she flinched as if she'd been struck. "Matt, you have to understand," Trish said, pleadingly. "We're scientists -" "Scientists!" Matt grabbed her by the arms and shook her. He shouted in her face, "You kept me in a cage, you stole months of my life, you experimented on me like a goddamn animal, you fuck me and pretend to like it, and you say I have to understand?" He shook her harder, months of rage boiling up in him like molten lava. "What was the point of this experiment, to drive me out of my fucking mind?" "T - to see what it would take to make you lose control," she whispered. "To see if I was a rapist, you mean?" he snarled at her. "Baby, you're about to find out." And he picked her up and threw her onto the bed. ----- I realize that you're concerned for Crew G's welfare. But Crew G's own lack of professionalism is what put her in this predicament. She has no one but herself to blame. No, I think that rather than extracting her, we'll just wait and see what Subject 405 does. ----- Months of wild, ugly fantasies about vengeance boiled through his brain as Matt shoved Trish, hard, face down onto the bed. Her upper body was covered by the flannel shirt, but her round ass and thighs were bare; as she fell, her face pushed into the mattress, and the lips of her pussy were exposed, red and slightly puffy from the sex they'd had earlier. He was panting with rage and lust; his cock was as hard and heavy as a hammer. He pushed her legs roughly apart and rammed himself inside her. She cried out. A savage, vicious satisfaction howled through him - not just sexual pleasure, although that was there, but wild delight at having one of his tormentors right where he wanted her. He pumped his hips, pistoning into her helpless body, his teeth bared in a grin of fury. Beneath the satisfaction, though, a tiny part of his conscience pinged: he was a rapist now. Trish cried out again, and again, her hands clenching rhythmically on the bed's down coverlet. Matt belatedly realized that he wasn't raping her. He was about to make her come. He pulled out, sharply, ignoring her moan. He closed his eyes and pressed his face to her back, trembling as complex emotions swamped him. Hatred - desire to hurt her - conflicted with an unwilling masculine appreciation of her sexual receptiveness. Damn she was fine. He wanted to please her, hated her, hated himself for wanting her. Every breath he took, trying to steady himself, was full of the smell of her desire. Matt reminded himself of the months of aching fear and boredom in that cell, and imagined her watching him with scientific interest. "Scientist," he said bitterly. "You're not a scientist, bitch. You're nothing but a hot cunt. Get up on your knees." He smacked her thigh, and she got up, kneeling on the bed, her back to him, head bowed. He pulled the shirt off her, tearing it along one seam, and throwing it away. "Crawl up to the headboard and hang on," he said, getting onto the bed behind her. "Matt -" "Shut up and do as you're told." She crawled up to the top of the bed and put her hands on the headboard. "You keep your hands there," he said. "Spread your legs wider so I can see. Yeah," he said, looking down at her ass, her splayed thighs, her dark wet hole. "Just a hot dripping cunt, aren't you? Say it." "Matt, please -" He gripped her ass in his hands, pressing his thumbs between the lips of her pussy. Her voice stuttered to a stop; hot liquid squeezed out of her, making his thumbs shiny. "You like that?" he whispered. She moaned her agreement. He dragged one thumb slowly over her clit; her whole body jerked. He rubbed her clit with one thumb while pressing the other into her, fucking her with it, and she writhed, clawing the headboard, her breath coming in rapid pants. Matt was panting, too. He kept it up, masturbating her mercilessly, and when she was on the verge of orgasm, he pulled both thumbs back and just held her hips still, hard, his fingers leaving bruising imprints on her pale flesh. She whispered, "Please, Matt, please -" "You want to come, baby?" he crooned. "Is that it? You want me to fuck you 'til you come?" "Yes!" "Then say it," he told her harshly. "Say, 'I'm not a scientist, I'm just a hot dripping cunt.'" "You don't understand," she cried. "I understand better than you think," Matt said. He put one hand in her hair, clenching it into his fist, dragging her head back. With the other hand, he gently, gently brushed his fingers over her mouth, teasingly stroking her own juices onto her lips, letting her taste her own need. "You're nothing but a dripping cunt right now, are you? Tell me." "Yes," she whispered. "Yes." "I'm not a scientist," he coached her. His mouth was against her straining neck. He dropped his hand to her groin and his fingers circled her swollen clit, not touching it. "I'm not a scientist," she said, her body squirming in rhythm to his finger's motions. "I - I -" "You're nothing," he coached. "I - I'm nothing - but a hot -" "Dripping," he hinted. "A hot dripping cunt," she said, all in a rush. "Oh Matt, please -" "Please what?" "Please touch me," she said. "I never knew what it was like. Touch my cunt, put it inside me, please," she begged. "No," he said. ----- Besides, the data coming back is quite interesting. ----- Matt wanted to push away from her, to leave her there, mortified and aching on the bed. But he found he couldn't do it. "This is what you did to me," he whispered. "Imagine the way you feel now. Needing it, the way you need it now. For months without end. Imagine it, Trish." Experimental Animal Her body was bowed with shame, her face turned away. He could tell by her by her breathing that she was about to cry again. And he still couldn't turn away. Her humiliation was far less gratifying than he'd expected. Maybe it was that throaty little catch in her voice, the one that said she was innocent, although he knew she was a liar. Maybe it was because she was so sexy, and the sound of her voice pleading with him for sex was so hot; he wanted her as badly as she wanted him. Maybe he just wasn't man enough to resist. "Damn it," he said, took hold of Trish's hips in his hands, and ground his rock-hard cock against her body, pressing it into the slick wet channel between her legs. She made a little sobbing noise of pleasure and shock, and he pushed her body forward, drew her hips up, and slid inside her again. "Oh fuck," he said, closing his eyes. He shouldn't do this, shouldn't be a slave to this, but he couldn't seem to care about anything but the exquisite sensation of his hard cock sliding in and out of that wet pussy. He moved faster, grunting with pleasure, and he heard her begin to cry out with each thrust, felt her body begin to jerk with orgasm. She came, and he slowed down to draw it out, unthinkingly giving her what she needed, making it last. She was groaning his name, her body languid and trembling with pleasure. He loved that he made her so weak, hated her for making him feel that way. "Damn you," he whispered. He wanted to stop fucking her, kept fucking her, couldn't stop. He drew her hips up with one hand, pressed her torso down on the bed with the other, pushing deeper into her. He wrapped his arms around her, slid his hands between her chest and the mattress, cupping her breasts. Anger and tenderness and sexual need, all tangled together. His hips pumped, his cock jerked. "Damn you, damn you," he chanted, and sank his teeth into her shoulder, and fucked her for all he was worth. And then he came, an orgasm that seemed to rip him inside out, eyes clenched shut, teeth locked on her shoulder. He crushed her against him and felt her body arch upward, instinctively taking him deeper, as surge after surge of pleasure thundered through him and into her. When it was over, Matt found himself cradling her body, his face in her soft hair, his hands cupping her breasts, his soft dick still lodged inside her. He saw the angry red mark his teeth had left on her shoulder, and for a moment all he could feel was regret. His anger was gone. ----- I realize that, as a crew member of the ship, G has certain contractual rights. I just think that, since she is now obviously a human, she may no longer be entitled to those rights. She is certainly valuable as an experimental subject. Perhaps the constitutional attorneys can research that. In the meantime, we need to get both G and Subject 405 back to the lab for further tests. ----- He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her, gently, around to face him. Her face was pale, her eyes bruised-looking; but she met his gaze fearlessly. "Okay," he said softly. "Okay, honey. Explain it to me, Trish." She explained. They were a space-faring race; generations of them born, living, mating, dying together on spaceships. Her people roamed the galaxy, exploring worlds and sending the results of their research back to the home world of her ancestors, a world neither she nor any of her crewmates had never seen. Adapted to life circumscribed by the bounds of an artificial environment, they had centuries earlier found sexual impulses inconvenient and evolved beyond them. Now mating was a matter of exchanging genetic material according to pre-drawn contracts. (As a result, a powerful caste of shipboard lawyers had developed.) "There have always been those who thought we should do more active research," she said. "Not just observe, but do tests. They were just a splinter faction until recently, but - a few of your years ago - they took over the ship, and everything changed." "And that's when I was taken prisoner," he said. Trish continued, "We didn't - no, that's not fair," she corrected herself. "We knew it was hard for you - the imprisonment, the sexual deprivation. But we don't have sexual feelings ourselves, so -" "You do," Matt said sharply. Trish pressed her lips together, still not meeting his gaze. "I do," she finally said, as though admitting to a painful vice. "Because they changed me, made me into one of your women." "My women?" "A human woman," she clarified softly. "I didn't expect to feel ... I suppose none of us could have guessed how I would feel." Matt stared at her. After a moment, he asked, "So, what do you really look like?" "This is what I really look like, now," Trish said, a wry smile on her lips. "I used to be - oh, I don't think I can explain, Matt. We're smaller. Humanoid, but different from you." He asked, "And the purpose of the experiment? I guess you were just gathering information for the first -- how long was it?" "One hundred and fifty three days." "Five months." He felt anger boil up in him again. "And then you let me escape and brought me to this little love nest and fucked me. Why?" "I wasn't supposed to do that," she said softly, resting her chin on her knees. "The experiment ended when I ... The purpose was to see which side of your nature would win - the one that wanted sex, or the one that wanted to protect me. I ... chose a third option." "Tell me why." She just turned her head and rested her cheek against her knees, closing her eyes, refusing to look at him. "Because," she said, "like you said. I'm nothing ... nothing but a -" "No, Trish," he said, his voice harsh with regret. He put his arms around her and held her. "Oh hell, there's no shame in it, honey. We all need it sometimes." He stroked her face. "Don't be ashamed of it." "If it's any consolation," she said, "I'll paying for it. The changes are permanent. I'll always be different from my people now - we couldn't have guessed how different my new body would make me from the rest of my species, not until this." She lifted her chin and looked up, towards the window. "They're coming," she said. She turned to look at him. "I won't let them take you back to the lab, Matt. There's something I have to do to keep you safe. Do you trust me?" Hell no, he thought; but looking into her eyes, he found himself saying, "Yes." She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, pressed on his scalp - and a sharp pain lanced through the center of his head, and then was gone. "Ow." And then, as though she had flipped a switch, Matt passed out. ----- Transmission from Subject 405 has ceased. G must have deactivated the monitoring device in his brain. ----- When he woke up, it was full daylight, and he was alone in the little cabin. She had left him a note. Matt: Today is December 25 - the day you said was made for good luck, happiness, and wishes come true. I wish I could give you those things. Instead, I've given you your freedom. Hike south of the cabin for about six miles and you'll reach Highway 2. From there it's about fifteen miles to Kalispell, Montana. With luck, you should be back home in Virginia by tomorrow. You don't have to be afraid. My people won't be following you. I've made a deal with them; don't worry about the details, just know that you're free of us forever. Don't bother alerting the government to our lab; by the time you read this, all traces of us will be gone. Please believe that I am sorry for everything that happened to you. Who knows, my experiences may teach my people the folly of what they've done. I hope that we can go back to being the peace-loving scientists we once were. That is your Christmas gift to us. I will never forget you. Merry Christmas, Trish ----- Unfortunately, her lawyer's arguments were impossible to overcome. The captain found that we could not continue our experiments on Crewman G without her consent. And the only way to obtain her consent was to release all claim on Subject 405. So he's gone. We know where he is, of course, but the lawyers will keep him safe. At least we have Subject G. Experimental Desire Elita carried a natural sexual presence that exemplified her sexual appetite. Her tall, firm, slender, perfectly proportioned frame commanded attention from both sexes and gave her sensations that she had grown to enjoy more through her 20's as she gained a clearer understanding of the powers of attraction that her long blonde hair, sparkling green eyes and full, scarlet lips brought with them. Having been born and raised in a small town in England, she had long since outgrown the abundant limitations that a small town anywhere provides. She had grown tired of the gossip and rumour that fuels such communities and had emigrated to Spain to seek a less microscopic way of life, finding a sense of home in the bustling touristic town of Fuengirola on the Costa del Sol where her physical charms contrasted completely against the dark skinned, dark eyed locals. February through November however, brought a transient population of hundreds of thousands from all over Europe which enabled her striking appearance to blend more readily and so too for her sexuality to play with. It was in the workplace that she had met Joe. He had employed her and the long hours working in the office together had brought them a sexual tension that they both sensed long before anything actually happened between them. Joe's influential persona was a strong aphrodisiac to Elita and her subservient tendencies embraced his demanding nature to a climatic peak that neither of them could resist. That first fuck between them had been a rampant encounter over an office desk and on the cool, hard marble floor which left them as bruised as relieved. Both agreed that the sex could not interfere with their professional employment and so an intensely sexual and casual relationship ensued: 'fuck buddies' as the modern dictionary might define. Joe was consciously commitmentphobic and had been so for the majority of his adult life which he had led largely as a single and littered with broken relationships. He was definitely better, and indeed happier, at being single and the sexual intensity that had rapidly developed between him and Elita perhaps might not have unfolded in any other set of circumstances. The casual aspect of their trysts served as a catalyst to the powerful sexual chemistry between them and resulted in them reaching new heights in sexual pleasure and their finding maximum satisfaction in previously forbidden and hidden desires. Their first four or five months of regular encounters had propelled their fantasies into realities in all aspects that a man and woman together can generate, each of them seeking and allowing total use and sometimes abuse of each others bodies. Dress-up, role play, bondage, anal, oral, oral anal, water sports; everything had been covered and deeply enjoyed by both seemingly insatiable parties and had resulted in Elita learning that she was very capable of female ejaculation when with Joe, a quality that they both delighted in as it made their sex so messy and warm and fuelled them further. Joe had been by his own admission ' a very fortunate guy sexually' and had found an equally willing partner to match his ridiculously rampant desires. His huge sexual appetite knew no bounds and although he had been fortunate to fulfil most of his fantasies many times over, his liasons with Elita blew new life into his darkest ideas in a way that only a likeminded sexual partner could hope to achieve. This special blend of such two people in an agreed situation was surely to surpass all previous encounters. *************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************** It was a beautiful sunset on a warm spring evening on the Costa del Sol. The warm breeze teased at Elita's white loose top to reveal glimpses of her white lacy bra that almost unecessarily cupped her soft, smooth, firm breasts. Joe stood facing her as they met by arrangement on the coast for a drink as they did quite often, both in the knowledge that the evening would result in a sexual encounter between them to satisfy their needs until the next time. This encounter however was to prove rather different from any other they had experienced together. They chatted and laughed over a few drinks in a chiringuito near the shore as the waves gently washed in over the sand. The sun had long set over the horizon and had been replaced in the sky by a full moon. Elita had recognised for some time that Joe was at his horniest around the time of the full moon and her nipples were already firming in anticipation of what the night held for them as she was almost entranced by his mouth as he talked to her. She toyed with her lips with her teeth as she recalled the last full moon meet they had and her clit positively tingled as she mentally flashed images and statements from that encounter and remembered how much ejaculate she had squirted with Joe fucking her all ways and encouraging her to suck the 'realistic cock' dildos he had bought her. They were both turned on by the fantasy of group sex and they had many orgasms over such a fantasy. As usual that evening, the sexual tension between them had occasionally bubbled over into touching and kissing, both of them barely able to resist such public displays of attraction to each other. The staff at the bar had seen it all before both with Joe and Elita and the thousands of touristic couples that they served each summer and the young fit male staff looked knowingly at each other as they worked, paying regular attention to developments in the direction of the two. Joe and Elita had been having such a good time that they did not notice the penultimate table being cleared and relaid by the staff and their sudden realisation that they were the last customers in the restaurant was politely met by Joe with an apology to the head waiter for being so late. "Don't worry" the waiter replied "we have all night." Joe interpreted his English to include the 'Royal we' and continued talking and flirting with Elita for another couple of drinks. The alcohol was flowing more slowly now as the fuck buddies continued in their tactile conversation. Elita was wet and Joe could see her arousal in her eyes. He was equally horny and could hardly wait for the sex with her. "Take your knickers off" Joe teased Elita. "We're in the middle of a restaurant!" whisper shrieked Elita. "Come on, the restaurant's empty. Take them off." Elita looked around, half in hope that there may be an excuse not to do so and half in hope that there may not be. She pulled her white skirt up slightly to reveal her slender shapely legs to above mid-thigh and in one movement reached to pull her very lacey white knickers down. As she pulled her panties to her knees, a waiter rounded the corner of the bar and witnessed the action which literally stopped him in his tracks before he pretended not to see and head towards a table right next to her, politely unecessarily rearranging the cutlery there with his back to her. Elita continued the pantie removal to her ankles, knowing that she had been caught, snagging them slightly over her stilletoes and was blushing at being seen. She smiled wryly at Joe who smiled back in appreciation of her continued obedience to his mildly daring demands. The waiter returned to his fictitious duties at the back of the restaurant and left them alone again. "You owe me one for that!" giggled Elita, throwing the scented panties at him as his reward. "You love it just as much as I do" said Joe in his usual confident manner. He knew Elita well enough to know that she loved the thought of being watched during sex and had played on that many times with her; fucking in her apartment with the light on and windows open, on the balconies of their apartments, once in the toilet in work, all in the fantasy of being caught and watched or joined by others. "I'm going to the bathroom" said Elita still blushed from the event. "Don't come back with your bra on" Joe called after her, just loud enough to be sure that the waiters heard his request. Elita passed a glance backwards at him, knowing that he was playing with her fantasies some more. Elita looked at herself in the mirror of the ladies room. Her heart was racing and she was already very, very wet. She unbuttoned her loose clothing and removed her bra as Joe had told her to do so, stopping to squeeze the rigidity of her nipples both to satisfy the yearning to do so as well as to front the show that Joe was clearly intent on playing out with her. Her clit buzzed and was demanding attention; her clenching of her thigh and butt muscles all evening had done little to appease the passionate cravings that her wet and so sensitive pussy urged. Fighting the desire to masturbate there and then, she pulled her unbuttoned top over her lean shoulders and tucked it tightly into her skirt so that her ample breasts nudged the fine cotton taught over her now fully erect pink nipples. She left an extra button undone in a distinctly determined effort to have Joe further admire her uninhibitative intentions and left to return to him. Hopefully they would leave soon and be fucking she thought to herself as she did so. As she returned to the dining area she saw that Joe was no longer seated alone. Four of the waiters had joined him at their table and they were drinking and chatting as friends. She wanted to return to the ladies room to redress, at least do that lower button up, but as all the men turned to look at her, it was too late. Her confident moves belied her racing heart pace and the throbbing in her pussy was now electrifying. She had never felt so aroused, so excited among so many men in such close proximity, her body guarded only by a skirt and a top. She stopped and stood at the table near the men now as her seat had been taken. Joe turned his body towards her and opened his legs to motion her new seat at the table, on his knee. The testosteronic levels were almost palpable. She nearly lost control of her restraint when she brushed her left tit against Joe on seating. How much longer would she have to wait before she had Joe's cock inside her? How much longer could she wait, she wondered. Joe rested his right hand on Elita's firm small ass, stroking gently as he spoke with the group. Occasionally, his left hand would encroach onto her left inner thigh and give a teasing stroke or a squeeze there before sliding down to her knee. Elita could see the waiters eyes watching this and she was even further aroused by them doing so which in turn kept her nipples rigidly poking at her see through white top and gave them something more to look at. She was loving the attention and wanted to fuck Joe there and then. The waiter to her right pulled his chair closer in an effort to better explain a short humourous tale of his. The story ended with the whole group laughing and his hand on Elita's right leg. Elita did nothing to move it and neither did Joe; nor for that matter did the waiter. Elita parted her legs slightly and allowed the waiters hand to drop inside a little more to her soft sensitive inner thigh. As she did so, she looked at Joe for approval and was rewarded with a kiss from him which smashed the final barrier that had been struggling for so long to harness her passion inside. A moan of ecstasy slipped from her mouth as she cupped Joe's face and kissed him. She was long passed caring about the waiters being in the room and the passionate kissing intensified as Joe reached up to touch her breasts with raw intent. The waiter with his hand on her right leg was seizing the opportunity now, stroking her inner thighs and she opened her legs wider to allow him access. Passion overwhelmed her inhibitions, maximising her desire to be taken over and over again. The few buttons on her blouse had been undone to release her heaving chest into the play of Joe's hands which cupped, stroked and tweaked at her soft, firm breasts in a way that she delighted. The waiters hand was at her pussy, nearing the centre of her pleasure zone that she needed to be worked on so urgently that she moved her body to meet his hand and force him into more direct action; she could take no further foreplay. She lay back against Joe as he held her, him grabbing at her breasts for the men to watch as she reached down to release Joe's hot, thick cock from his pants. The large digits of the waiter probed for her sopping wet pussy which she aided by hitching up her skirt to above her waist. The other waiters moved to get her into a more accessible position which had her stillettoes on a dining chair each side of her, legs wide open to fully reveal her sex. The waiter finger-fucked her with two fingers, sliding them in and out of her in an increasingly powerful motion as a third finger from another waiter teased at her clit and hands pawed at her body. The sight alone was already too much for her as ahe scanned the room to look at these four men who were to join Joe in fucking her. Ecstasy quickly peaked inside her, the feeling of needing to pee bringing familiar warning that she was going to cum and squirt so much and she cried out in total release of control as she did so, the thick digits of the waiter powering at her insides relentlessly as she flooded his wrist and forearm with her fluids. Barely two minutes had passed and she had cum already. Joe encouraged her up from his lap and the two of the men carried her over to a large leather sofa just the other side of the dining table at which they had started. Joe and the waiters were stripping as Elita had her skirt and blouse completely removed for her by the two men that carried her. She left her black heels on that she knew Joe liked her to do so, so much. The five cocks soon stood surrounding her for attention as she sat on the warm leather. The cocks were all of a similar proportion and she had no hesitation in giving the men what they wanted, sucking and wanking them in turn, tasting the man meat that she needed inside her. She looked up at Joe as she sucked the men in an ascending pace, her wet technique making the cocks hard and slippery to aid her wanking hands over the men more readily. She tasted pre-cum on Joe's tip as she licked and sucked him, briefly stroking at his ballsack before refilling her hand with another man's length to her right appease him, wanking him some more as a temporary substitute to her eager mouth. She loved to suck cock and delighted in having five men to suck. She would have happily sucked them all off to completion if it were not for the fact that her pussy was aching for immmediate fucking action. Joe lay on the couch and pulled at Elita to encourage her to straddle him, the sharpness of her heels digging at his thighs as she did so, which she knew he liked too. Joe reached down to position his tip at her smooth opening which was his duty in the situation as Elita had the row of cocks to orally attend to directly above him. Elita's slippery sex slid down to engulf Joe's rigid pole completely and they both moaned in ectasy and relief without her releasing the cock from her mouth. The knowledge of so many men wanting to have her furthered her excitement, speeding her desire with accelerating fervour, the slippery sucking and fucking serving to arouse all in the room. Joe held Elita's small, firm waist as he fucked her hard from below, spurred on in his efforts by the sight just a few inches above him of Elita sucking the men off. He could see the rivlets of saliva running down their veiny shafts and he could hear the enthusiastic, ecstatic slurping of Elita's warm, wet mouth that supplied it: the sight and sounds above him turning him on to buck harder and faster into her. She looked so good with her mouth and hands full of cock meat, so naughty and slutty and that was what he liked. She was cumming again, flooding Joe's belly and genitalia with her ejaculate, her moans pleading for more as she did so, muffled by the throbbing poles of the men that she sucked. Joe reached down to scoop as much of Elita's warm, slimy release to spread it up and over her ass and as he did so he felt the hand of a waiter further assist by spreading her pussy juices from around his cock still inside her, both men wanting her ass lubricated for action. Joe splayed Elita's ass cheeks so that the waiter to her rear could access her hole more readily, Elita arching her back further to allow him to do so. She paused temporarily with a cock in her mouth and one in each hand as the waiter to her rear sought to fill her ass with his rampant length, gently and slowly easing his purple helmet inside her tight slippery hole. Joe could feel the addition to the action as the cock was fed inside her ass with surprisingly steady ease, her pussy muscles tightening over his cock some more by the stretching of her anal ring. The two cocks were inside her ass to the hilt and rested there until Elita began sucking and wanking the men in front of her again indicating her comfort and pleasure. Gently and slowly to start with, the two cocks to her rear began to piston in and out of her giving her a sense of fullness that she had fantasised about for so long, gaining momentum with the realisation of her fantasy fulfillment of double penetration as she rocked back and forth to make clear her desire to receive a proper fucking. The bucking in her ass was brief, for the young stud came quickly, yelping in pleasure as he climaxed deep inside her tight cavity. Joe could feel the pulsing meat next to his through the thin wall of internal flesh that scarcely divided them, feeling it withdraw soon after. There was little hesitation in replacing it, the waiter to her left, moving to fill the slippery void at her rear. The cum served as a further lubricant to his saliva coated cock and there was a rapid entry this time as Elita had her ass filled again. This time she was more than ready and the fucking ensued with immediate passion causing her firm breasts to sway as she was taken by the rampant demands of the men inside her. Elita cried out in orgasm as she came again, copiusly ejaculating over Joe. The men continued unabated, fucking her holes hard with their hot lengths, their balls slapping up against her as they did so. Elita wanted to open her eyes to take in the event but was overcome with wave after wave of orgasmic relief that kept them closed for the majority of time. She was loving the emotions that flushed through her, the totality of each orgasm being maximised by the number of cocks that she had available to please her combining with the slutty subserviency that she preferred to play. The cock in her mouth was fucking her now. No longer content with being sucked, the waiter held her head in his hands and began to face-fuck her as Elita steadied herself with her hands on Joe and the couch. Joe knew that Elita liked to be face-fucked and that she was very skilled at continuing to suck on his cock even through the gagging that such deep throated demands brought. She loved the thought that she could make it feel like a proper fuck for him and was completely at the mercy of a man for all their pleasure. The men pounded away at her mouth, pussy and ass as the spare guy wanked over the glorious sight before him and the climactic responses of Elita cumming, seemingly constantly, over and over again. Joe was getting close to orgasm when the man fucking her mouth barked out in release. He pulled away slightly as he came, Elita reaching up to his cock with her right hand to maximise his delight and increase the delivery of the ropes of thick white spunk that she craved as reward for her efforts. She was not disappointed with his delivery as he came in her mouth and striped her face with his mess over and over again, her lapping at his length in an attempt to get more. Experimental Desire "Ah, yes, give it to me!" she pleaded as she looked up at him for more. The man in her ass was cumming too, unable to contain himself at the sight and sounds before him, fucking her tight hole with maximum ferocity for those last pumps of pre-orgasmic action, pulling at her long, blonde, cum streaked hair as he did so making Elita cry out with him as he came, filling her ass with the first batches of jizz before pulling out of her to finish himself off over her ass cheeks and torso with his slippery length spewing pearlescent streams of his juices over her gaping hole. Joe siezed the opportunity to pull out of Elita to take her from behind for his final throes. Her gorgeous frame glistened with sweat and the spunk of the men, her skin redenned in places where they had had their way with her, the black stillettoes that contrasted beautifully against her relatively pale skin. He slid back inside her pussy and her ass-hole mouthed invitingly from the attention of the previous men. He could not resist it and so alternated the fucking of both her pussy and rear passage as she continued determinedly sucking and wanking the cock at her mouth. Joe pulled out and swopped positions with the man at her mouth. He wanted to cum over her pretty face, the cum of the others still wet on her.. The new cock to her rear fucked her pussy and the slapping action quickly brought her to a final ejaculation which was quickly followed by the orgasms of both men simultaneously. The man came inside her, filling her unprotected vagina with his seed as Joe fired the largest release of all the men, filling her throat and mouth before striping her face further with a fresh batch of semen. "I´m cumming again!" Joe warned with excitement as a second wave of euphoria overcame him to produce even more spunk down her eager throat. The five men took Elita many times over again during that night. The sunrise seemed to dawn very early shortly before all the men were spent. Elita happily matched the men with her sexual appeitite and she was literally dripping with spunk when they finally left the building. "Fuck, that was so good." sighed Elita, leaning against Joe as they very slowly headed off together along the sandy beach in the early morning sun. "I think we could use some extra help next full moon...." replied Joe. Experimental Earrings It was a cold winter day. The sun was bright but the snow was pouring down. Matt stared out the window through his glasses. He was a stereotypical nerd. He had pretty much no friends since starting high school in August and the only real interaction he has with other students was in class and group projects. He was sitting at his desk and looked back down as he worked on his science project. Matt had been studying psychology a bit and the training of animals to do things out of rewarding behavior. Matt decided that it was too easy to replicate it with an animal that doesn't think independently but were just motivated by instincts and just wanting to survive. Matt decided to take it upon himself to try training humans to do what he wanted. Matt had been working on creating a device to help him accomplish this. Matt was working on a device that would be inconspicuous so that no one would catch on to the fact that he was trying to train them. He also had to figure out how to make the device reward and punish them on top of a device that the person would keep on. Matt decided that he would use arousal as the reward and a painful shock to punish them. Matt realized that a good location for this would be the ears since the earlobe is a pleasure spot. Matt took this into account and created earrings that would stimulate the pleasure nerves or shock them. Matt started it out by creating a set of earring that were clip-ons and tested it on himself and noticed the results. He was proud of himself and started to create normal earrings. He created quite a few pairs and wasn't sure how to start the testing. He tried to think of who he could test it on since it wouldn't work on willing volunteers but he didn't know that many people that he could take advantage of. Matt looked out his window and saw his sister's best friend was walking up to the door bundled up quite a bit. Matt decided she could be his first test subject. He set the earrings up to look like a present and set it on Sarah's desk and waited for Jackie to get inside. Jackie slid her coat off and was wearing a tight fuzzy sweater and a knee length black skirt on with stocking and black high heel shoes. She slid the sweater off and just wearing a white tight tank top showing her ample bosom. Jackie had blonde hair and hazel eyes and wasn't very tall but she was a lovely girl. Matt quickly went into Sarah's room and set up his wireless web-cam so he could keep tabs on his sister's friend to train her properly. Matt wasn't quite sure what he wanted to make his sister's friend do. Jackie kicked her shoes off and ran up stairs to Sarah's room despite the fact that Sarah wasn't there. She looked at the desk noticing the earrings. She look at it confused and decided to inspect them. She looks at them quite shocked seeing what appear to be diamond earrings. Matt was peaking into the room through the web cam and holding his remote to control the earrings. Jackie couldn't help but take her current earrings off and try on the new ones. When Jackie put the first earring on Matt pressed for reward and she smile noticing feeling better but not knowing why. She then put the other one on and felt another good feeling. She admired her earrings and went to take it off but felt a shock of pain. She went for it again and got shocked again. She looked confused and stopped trying to take them off and got another signal of pleasure. She decided that it would be good to keep the earrings on. Matt smiled from his room. Jackie laid on her bed and she started to slide her stocking down and she felt the pleasure. She stop and she got shocked so she continued sliding them off feeling pleasure motivating her to keep undressing. She started to slide her tank over her head feeling good the whole time. She reached for her skirt and stopped getting shocked. Not a fan of the shock she continues and slides her skirt off. She is sitting on her bed just wearing a strapless bra and a thong. She stares blankly at the wall wondering why she just stripped down. She was especially confused since it wasn't even her house. Jackie began to push her breasts up feeling some pleasure as she looked down pushing her breasts up to make them look bigger to her. She stopped and felt a shock. She started reaching behind her back feeling more pleasure. She started to unhook her bra and slide it off feeling pleasure deciding to get naked at this point knowing the pleasure it brings. She slides her thong down feeling pleasure the whole time and it stopped once she was naked. Jackie started to reach for her tank and got a shock. Jackie continued to reach for clothing and got shocked and decided that going after clothing was a bad idea so she sat on her bed naked. She sat there not really sure what to do. Matt smirked and got up. He walked to Sarah's door and knocked, "Who is it?" She said. "Matt." "Ugh go away." She got shocked and was confused. "Really Jackie?" "Yes, go away." She gets shocked again. "Are you sure? I just wanted to talk to you. She sits there not wanting to feel the pain but not wanting to be in a room naked with her best friend's brother. "Go..." She gets shocked. "Ahead and come in." She feels pleasure and smiles. Matt opens the door and steps in looking at Jackie's naked body. "Why aren't you dressed?" She shrugs and reaches for something to cover herself but each object she touches she gets a shock. "Just too much work." She starts to cover her breasts and pussy with her hands but feels a shock and stops. "Something weird is going on..." She looks at him curious. "I dunno Jackie... is there anything I can do for you?" She shakes her head and feels the pain. She says, "No." And feels more pain, "Ummm... maybe there is Matt." She starts to feel pleasure. "Yea there is." She feels the pleasure enjoying it not sure what she needs her best friend's brother for. "Would you be more comfortable if I was naked?" She looks at him perplexed. "Ewww..." She feels a shock. "No..." Another painful shock. "Errr... yes?" Matt looks at her as she feels pleasure. "If that's what you want Jackie. You want to undress me?" She starts, "Nnn.." Feels a shock and says "NYessss." She slightly moans feeling the pleasure. She reaches out lifting his shirt over his head feeling the pleasure not noticing the device Matt is holding in his hand. She unzipped his pants and slide them down noticing the buldge made from his hard dick. She smirks, "I cause you to be like this Matt?" She feels more pleasure and pulls his boxers down leaving her naked in the same room with her best friend's brother. Jackie looks at him perplexed as to why she's doing this. "Ummm... now what did I need you for?" She looks at his dick. "This is wrong Matt..." She feels a shock. "You are my best friend's brother." She looks at him disgusted by him. She gets another shock. "You should leave." She feels another shock. "Uhhh... but who cares?" She feels the pleasure and gives a slight moan. "I guess I want you in my room naked with me..." She feels tremendous pleasure. "But the only reason I'd want a guy naked in the room with me is for sex." She feels pleasure when she says sex. "So... sex?" She feels more pleasure. "I'm a virgin and yet I feel compelled to let you have sex with me Matt." She feels pleasure. "So I guess could you fuck me?" She feels pleasure yet feeling awkward asking her best friend's brother to be her first. "Wait a minute..." She says thinking about it and gets shocked. "Will you fuck your sister's best friend already Matt?" She begs feeling more pleasure being motivated to beg for sex. She gets on her hands and knees. "Pleasure fuck me." She moans in pleasure. She turns away from him sticking her ass high in the air to make it easy for her to be fucked by Matt. She thinks to herself why the hell is she doing this but not wanting the shock and loving the pleasure keeps it up. Matt gets up and gathers his clothes and heads back to his room. Jackie stared confused since she thought was really going to take her up on such a tempting offer. She sits up on the bed and look around as she is in her best friend's room. She stands up and starts to walk around the room. She starts to head towards the closet and gets shocked and then starts heading towards the door and feels pleasure. Jackie heads into the hall at her friend's house completely naked solely because of the good feeling it brought and heads towards Matt's room and walks in as he supplies her with the pleasure and stops once she is in his room. She turns to leave but feels a shock so she walks over to the bed. Matt is still naked with his dick fully erect. "Jackie... what are you doing?" Matt says looking at her. She shrugs and looks at Matt, "I guess I never knew how attractive I found you?" She feels the pleasure. She looks at Matt her eyes slightly glazed over. Matt walks over to the bed thinking of kissing her but then deciding that this doesn't prove enough. Matt gets dressed and Jackie stares at him blankly. "Aren't you going to?" She looks down feeling depressed since Matt won't even take advantage of her. "Just get dressed and go home and come back tomorrow. Ok Jackie?" Jackie stares blankly, "No..." She gets shocked. "Of course Matt, I'll be back tomorrow to see you." She feels the pleasure and smiles. She heads into Sarah's room and gets dressed and heads home.