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Déjà Vu

By: pandsal



The memory of that evening, more than twenty years ago now, remains lodged in the deep recesses of my brain, probably permanently. In the immediate aftermath it completely took over my masturbation fantasies. I had only to close my eyes and picture Alice in all her lascivious openness and my cock would spring to life, demanding the attention of my hand. Of course, as other women came into my life, especially after my marriage to Selena, a sense of proportion ensued. Alice wasn't forgotten; the experience was still recalled just as fondly but at increasingly longer intervals. Until now. Now I have to make a decision and the only guide I have is the recollection of that night with Alice and her husband.

Perhaps I should start at the beginning.

I was a student in my third year at University. Having come from a family who had made enough sacrifices for my benefit, I took a part-time job at one of the city's major hotels. After a stint washing up in the kitchen, I was offered the chance to serve in the bar - pleasanter and more lucrative. The four-till-midnight shift on Saturday was hard work, but Sunday's eleven-till-seven was quite relaxing once the lunchtime crowd had departed.

Alice and her husband were Sunday regulars. I'm ashamed to say I've forgotten their surname - MacArthur, McAndrew maybe, I just can't remember. Everyone, including his wife, simply called him Mac. Mac was a building contractor, a self-made man who had built up a substantial business in the area. He could be a bit arrogant, noisy when he was buying a round for his Sunday circle, but I could stand that from a generous tipper. Alice, moving effortlessly towards attractive middle age, was quiet, always courteous on the few occasions that we spoke.

It was shortly after four o'clock one Sunday afternoon when Mac, having left a couple of hours earlier with Alice, returned alone. I was mildly surprised, never having seen him at this time on his own. He came and sat at the bar and ordered a large scotch and soda. When I put it in front of him, he clearly wanted to talk but first he looked round as though to see who else was present. The bar was empty.

Our conversation began conventionally, mere idle small talk. Then, after looking round again and lowering his voice, he asked me about myself. When I told him about my studies he asked if I would be interested in earning "a bit extra." Not being anxious to exchange a four-star hotel for a builder's office, I enquired what he had in mind.

Mac made another surreptitious survey of the bar, paused as though trying to decide how to proceed, then said, "My wife - Alice. You've seen her here with me?"

I said I had.

Mac gulped down the scotch and asked for another. Then he said, "Would you sleep with her?" As far as I can remember, I hadn't been able to frame a response before Mac went on to outline his proposal. It was Alice's fortieth birthday and he wanted something special as a present. I was to be the something special. Since they were married she had never had sex with anyone else but now he thought she was ready for it. If I was.

"Of course," he added, almost as an afterthought, "I'd make it worth your while. A hundred pounds, say?"

He seemed to take my bemused silence as a rejection. "A hundred and fifty?"

What was going on in my head while I stayed tongue-tied? Would I like to fuck an attractive forty-year-old? Why not? Would I like to be paid for it? Certainly. At last I came to my senses, realising that if I didn't say something soon he might assume I was offended and back away. 

"I'd be pleased to see if I can help," I said. It sounded ludicrously formal but Mac seemed satisfied. In an instant he became his normal forthright self. "Good. We'll call it settled. What time do you finish here?"

"Just after seven."

"I'll be waiting for you outside." As he walked away I realised that he hadn't paid for his drinks. Rather than call him back, I put the money in the till myself. I figured I could take it out of my proposed night's earnings.

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

Mac was standing at the staff door when I left. "Haven't changed your mind?" was his immediate greeting. I shook my head. "Good. I've left the car a bit away. We can have a chat while we're on the way."

"Sure. What can I tell you?"

"I take it you've had some experience?"

Not with women nearly twice my age, but I wasn't a virgin. Far from it. For a virile young man there were willing female undergraduates with urges of their own to satisfy. "Yes," I said, trying to sound assured. Then, feeling it was time I took the initiative, "Your wife - "

"Alice won't disappoint you. Anything you want - she'll do it. She's what they call a submissive." We walked on in silence for a moment. When I made no comment, he added, "Don't look down on her for that. If you met her out you'd never know. It's only when it comes to sex. It's the way she gets her - her pleasure. She likes being told what to do. Can you understand that?"

Although this was a whole new world to me, I said I thought I could.

"It's taken me a long time to understand everything she needs but we've got it worked out now. That's how I knew she would agree when I suggested getting someone else involved. I could have done it before but somehow forty seemed just the right age to take her a step further."

I could hardly believe that someone I knew only from serving him drinks across a bar should be so frank about his sex life. And, as far as my personal experience went, a pretty unconventional sex life at that. But there was one question nagging at the back of my mind. "When we - when Alice and I ..." I was floundering for an appropriate phrase. "Look", said Mac, coming to my rescue, "you can deal with her how you like. I promise you, she'll agree to whatever. If she seems a bit reluctant, that's all part of it. She'll do it. Anything you want. Only, don't rush it. This is a very special thing for both of us and - well, we both want to enjoy it."

This almost answered the question I hadn't asked but I put it to him anyway. "Does that mean you want to be involved as well?"

"Of course. That was always the idea. I'll probably watch for a while - I want to see her - see her getting it. But the two of us together can give her a real seeing to. Can't we?"

It hadn't been the scenario I had originally visualised but it was too late to back out now. Anyway, I was the hired hand. And curious. And more than a little aroused.

"By the way," Mac said, "I've told her your name is Simon. It doesn't matter what it is really. Just be Simon for tonight."

While I was still digesting that we arrived at the car - a new-looking Jaguar. Mac opened the rear door and ushered me inside. To my surprise, I found Alice sitting there. "Hello, Simon" she said, smiling. Her voice was warm, not at all nervous, as I might have expected.

I said, "Happy birthday - Alice."

"I hope it will be," she replied, leaning across to take my hand which she placed on her thigh. "Mac's told me I have to take care of you. Whatever you say." Mac climbed into the driver's seat and we set off, though not before he had adjusted the rear view mirror. I thought he had angled it for a view of anything that might transpire in the back seat.

We hadn't travelled far before Mac said over his shoulder, "Why don't you two start getting to know each other? Show him your tits, Ally."

Alice made no move. Mac spoke again, "Tell her, Simon."

I saw that the game had started and I need to play my part. "Show me," I said.

"He likes big tits," said Mac. I hadn't told him anything of the sort but I was beginning to understand. I squeezed her thigh. She unbuttoned her blouse, pulled it wide, undid the front clasp of her bra. Her breasts were full and round. I could see that the nipples were prominent and hard. Apparently Mac knew what he was talking about: this was what she wanted.

"Let him see you work the nipples, Ally." I was aware of Mac's eyes swivelling between the road ahead and the rear view mirror. I pulled Ally across towards me, positioning her nearer the middle of the seat to help Mac see better. My cock was hardening as I began to pick up the sexual vibrations between the two of them. Or rather, the three of us. Her fingers plucked at both nipples, twisting them. 

"Harder," I said. More new territory for me. Making it up as we went along. But it was undeniably doing something for me, too.

She obeyed, wincing slightly. "It hurts," she said.

"That's how you like it," her husband told her. We stopped at traffic lights with a bus at our side. "Open your legs for him," said Mac. To me he added, "You'll find she's wet."

"People on the bus can see us," Alice protested, not very convincingly.

"So enjoy it. Give 'em a show." She was still manipulating her nipples. "Put your hand up her skirt, Simon."

I removed my hand from her thigh and she immediately widened her knees. I pushed the skirt up a few inches, savouring the feel of her stockings beneath my fingers. The lights changed and we moved forward while I peeled the skirt right back. The stockings were black, supported by black suspenders. I encountered cool flesh.

"Let him have a good feel. Let him get his fingers in your cunt." Alice inched forward on the seat so as to allow me freer access. "She's got black knickers on, if you like that kind of thing. But if you want them off, just tell her."

Don't rush it, Mac had stipulated, and I was happy to comply. I made her lift her bottom so I could peel the skirt right back but after that I was content just to admire the contrast between black knickers and white thighs, to edge the gusset aside and insert a finger or two. Alice moaned softly. Mac was right - she was wet. Ready. Available. All I had to do was tell her. 

I glimpsed Mac's eyes darting to the mirror. He was driving with only one hand on the wheel. Perhaps it was as well that we soon began to slow down. Mac turned into the drive of a large modern house. I guessed large sitting room, open fireplace, leather armchairs, large TV in one corner, bar in another. When we went in, I wasn't surprised. No expense spared. But you can't buy taste.

"Drinks anyone?" Mac asked, moving behind the bar and pouring himself a large scotch. "Do you want her here? You could have her on the rug. Or over the arm of that chair, spread her legs, have a feel of her arse. Otherwise, we can take her upstairs. It's up to you."

Alice stood, arms at her side, waiting for instructions, seemingly unperturbed by Mac's boorish arrogance. The submissive game was so new to me, I didn't know how much was just acting and how much came naturally to him. Perhaps to her, as well. My explorations in the car, the way she opened her knees, the juice leaking on to labia, tended to suggest she was a willing participant. I had to remember, too, that I was being paid to perform. Moreover, in spite of an inherent dislike of treating a woman this way, I found myself caught up in the erotic charge of a scenario I could have scarcely dreamed of twenty-four hours earlier. My cock was hardening. I chose upstairs.

The bedroom was of a piece with all I had seen downstairs: huge bed, dressing table, wardrobes with floor to ceiling mirrored doors. Assuming my role, I instructed Alice to remove her blouse and skirt and stand in front of one of the mirrors. Mac, placed his second glass of scotch on a bedside table, sat on the edge of the bed to watch. 

"Turn round," I ordered. Truly, Alice was in excellent shape and she was dressed to display all her assets: full breasts, a tight, rounded bottom and long legs set off by black lingerie, bra, knickers, suspender belt, stockings, high heels. 

"The bra. Let's have that off first." Alice undid a clasp, let the garment fall to the floor. Her breasts were round and taut enough to indicate that the bra had been as much decoration as support. "The nipples," I continued. "Like you did in the car." With finger and thumb, she tweaked and twisted them. "Harder."

While she did so, my eyes strayed to the reflection in the mirror or her rear. Hoping I was keeping to Mac's instruction not to hurry, but at the same time driven by my own arousal, I made her turn round and bend over. I crossed to her, ran my palms over the soft fabric stretched across her arse.

Mac spoke for the first time since we had entered the bedroom. "You can slap her." 

More new territory for me. Perhaps Mac hadn't considered how narrow my previous experience was at the age of twenty-one, or perhaps he simply assumed everybody's foreplay included spanking. I raised my hand and brought it down on her right cheek three times. An inner voice told me I was enjoying myself.

"She can take it harder than that. And with the knickers off, if you want." Mac again. I saw that he had opened his trousers and was stroking his cock.

Paid to please though I was, this was where Mac and I disagreed. I was in no hurry to forgo the feel of Alice's knickers, especially when distended by those firm but pliant orbs. I went to a chair at the side of the bed and sat down. "Come here," I commanded Alice. "Lie across my lap."

Once she was in position I resumed her punishment, vary the interval between each smack as well as the severity of the slaps themselves. I wondered if somewhere on her prone body she could feel my cock straining up against her. It would soon be impossible to refrain from putting it into her somewhere. I hadn't yet decided where. For the moment, I ended the spanking, instead rubbing my hands across her arse, occasionally letting my middle finger press the material against her sphincter. At last, I grasped the waistband and very slowly eased the knickers over her thighs and down to her ankles, finally to the floor. Mac immediately snatched up the garment, held it to his face for a few moments, then wrapped it round his dick.

There was a brief interlude during which I had Alice lie back on the bed and finger herself while I shed my clothes. My cock, I was proud to note, was as hard as I had ever known it, sticking straight out from my groin. "What to do you think of this?" I asked, holding it close to Alice's face without letting her interrupt her masturbation. "It's good," she said. "Big."

"All right, then." I went back to sit in the chair. "Kneel." She rose from the bed and did so. "Suck it." With scarcely a pause, almost as though she felt she had waited too long for his moment, she cupped one hand under my balls, grasped the shaft with the other, and bent her head to the task. She was good, varying tantalising licks with the tip of her tongue to deep suction, lips firm as she took in almost my full length. Although there was no need, I felt it would please Mac if I put my hands on the back of her head to control the in-and-out movement. The speed of his stroking increased for a while until he took a deep breath and with thumb and forefinger pinched the knickers material against the base of his member as though needing to keep control.

There came a moment when I need to apply similar concentration to my own rising excitement. I pushed Alice's head away. "Get back on the bed and kneel. It's time you were fucked." It wasn't in my nature to treat a woman in this way and I had to remind myself that I had agreed to take part in a certain scenario. At the same time, something deep in my psyche recognised an illicit thrill and urged me on. I suspected that some time later I might feel ashamed and embarrassed but at that moment I wanted to continue.

"It's what you need, isn't it?" I asked her. "To be fucked."

"Yes," she said, already kneeling, arse in the air.

"Tell me then."

"Fuck me. It's what I want. Please fuck me."

Kneeling behind her, I reached through to nudge her knees wider apart. My hand sought her cunt, prised the lips apart. Testing for the degree of her self-lubrication was unnecessary but I did so all the same. I found what I expected. The spanking followed by masturbation had prepared her fully. I steadied myself with one hand on her buttocks and with the other guided my cock into her, driving forward in one thrust until I was completed buried. Slightly to my disappointment, I seem to recall, she made no sound.

"Good?" I asked. "Is that good?"

"Yes. It's good."

"And?"

"Fuck me."

This was when Mac joined us, kneeling beside his wife, reaching under her with one hand to work on her dangling tits while continuing with the other to stroke his cock with her knickers. "This is what you want, Ally," he said. "Simon's giving you that seeing-to you deserve, isn't he? A hard young cock rammed up you. Waiting to spurt spunk up you. Or perhaps he's going to shoot it on your face. But you've got to show him first - show him what a good fuck you are." Crouching beside her, he murmured constantly in her ear, sometimes so quietly I could barely make out the words.

I remembered him saying as we walked to his car, "I want to see her getting it," and now he was savouring every moment, first feeling her tits, then momentarily abandoning his cock to use his hands to spread her cheeks for me. "Hard as you like. That's what she wants," he told me. Then to his wife,"You're the best, Ally, the hottest cunt he'll ever have. Do it, Ally."

The effect on Alice was apparent. If I had harboured doubts about her willingness to participate in this bizarre fortieth birthday celebration, they were dispelled in the next few minutes. Urged on by Mac, she began pushing herself back to meet my thrusting. With each cycle there was the suction sound of my member bursting from her soaking inner recesses followed by the slap of flesh on flesh as I hammered back in. Mac was correct: it was certainly the most intense fuck I had ever had. And somehow the most enduring. As the tempo increased and her jerking grew wilder, I clung on to Alice's hips to keep myself from losing contact altogether. I no longer knew nor cared whether I was in control, or Mac, or even Alice herself. We were all caught up in the sexual whirlwind.

We changed positions. I ordered her on to her back. Mac gripped her ankles, held her legs wide. I piled into her again. Her orgasms started, noisy and abandoned, her body squirming and rising beneath me. Eyes tightly shut in concentration, she seemed to reach a plateau of fulfilment where one paroxysm of desire rode swiftly and seamlessly on to the next. 

It couldn't last. I knew I had to come and, between gasps for breath, said as much to Mac. "Let me have her, then," he said, pushing me to one side and taking my place with such dexterity that Alice hardly missed a beat between my dick emerging and Mac's replacing it. Bemused, I lay beside them nursing an erection that was close to exploding. Mac understood. "Give it to her on her face," he grunted. "I'll fill her cunt."

And that was how it ended. Kneeling beside Alice, I released the white sticky stream with a volume and velocity that astonished me. I was totally drained. But Mac continued pumping his rigid dick into the orifice I had prepared for him until, without warning, on the inward movement he gave a huge groan and collapsed. Alice wrapped her legs around his back and, it appeared to me, ground herself against him until she had achieved one final climax.

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

Perhaps the most remarkable aspect of the whole surreal episode was the way Mac and Alice continued to come in for their regular Sunday lunchtime drinks without ever giving any indication that we had ever had any contact other than across the bar. As before, Mac tipped generously but not abnormally. Sometimes I would look at my bank statement to contemplate the hundred and fifty pounds I had deposited there, the only tangible evidence that I hadn't dreamed the whole business.

In any case, a few months later I graduated and set about building my career. On the way to becoming the successful geologist I now am, I had a number of relationships with women of about my own age. One encouraged me to spank her before sex but otherwise my experience was conventional. 


Déjà Vu



Occasionally everyone has that déjà vu experience. Time seems to be in slow motion as you watch events happening and you know exactly what's coming next; that feeling that you've lived this exact moment in time before. Whether it was something similar or something that we can't explain, most of us never know. For me, it was similarity to real life experience. A young co-worker seemed kind of despondent, so I took him to lunch. When I asked him what was up he said "Jim, I think I've got a problem." There it was, that tingling hair on the back of my neck, the feeling that I'd been here, before of Déjà vu.

My young co-worker proceeded to tell me how he had suspected his wife might be having an affair, and now he suspected that his wife might be a lesbian. As he told me his problem, a story unfolded that except for a few of the minor details could have been the story of what happened to my wife and me, and another couple, 20 some years ago. 

In our society everyone assumes that sex is an inherent skill – that we should naturally know how. My experience is that this is not the case, that most of us learn from our friends and lovers and then fine tune our abilities over the years. In my case I had a wonderful teacher; in the case of our friends it turned out that neither one of them knew how to give the other pleasure. I suppose I could shorten this and only tell parts of our story, however I'm sure something important would be left out. It's best if I just start at the beginning and tell the whole thing.

HISTORY

I came from a relatively poor family, although I didn't know it at the time. For spending money, we all had to work – there was no such thing as an allowance. I started mowing lawns when I was 8, and by the time I was 16 I had more muscles than the average kid. I had several houses all over town, and rode my bike back and forth so I had lots of freedom. Then the football coach saw me, and recruited me, and before I knew it I didn't have time for anything else. I had to give up the lawn mowing business, which I did – all except for one customer. 

There was one house that was one of my original customers. When the For Sale sign went up, they told me they were going to pass my name and telephone number to the new owners and recommend that they keep me. A few weeks later after they moved I got a call from the new owners. Mr. "Jones" asked if I still wanted to take care of their lawns, and I agreed. He asked that I particularly pay attention to sprinklers and make sure they were taken care of as he did a lot of traveling and often didn't have time to check them out himself. I said I would and continued doing their lawns.

I didn't see Mrs. "Jones," Jennie, until the first time I mowed the lawn. It was afternoon, and as usual I was in shorts and no shirt. I did the front and had just started the back when Jennie came out and introduced herself. I thought she was a really pretty lady, mid to early 30's and great figure. She introduced herself, said "You must be James," and asked me how old I was, what grade I was in – all the small talk. She paid me and away I went. I remember thinking she was really good looking, but at the time didn't think anything else of it. From the beginning it was routine that she would come out and say hi whenever I was there. I enjoyed having her come out, and always fantasized about her afterward. When football took over my life – I quit all my customers – all except Jennie "Jones". 

I kept the Jones's as my only customer my last two years of high school and first year of Junior College. She always came out to say hello, and often she would come out and putter around, weeding the garden or whatever. I didn't particularly think about it at the time, but gradually her clothing was changing. One time shorts and a tee shirt, tied in the middle so she had a bare midriff. Another time she had on a halter top that confirmed she had some outstanding cleavage. Later it was bathing suit top, another time she was sunbathing in back in a bikini. Gradually as her clothing became more revealing, she also spent more time talking to me, and although I didn't mind, the amount of time I was taking to mow their lawns was going up all the time. Once high school was over, so was my football career. Still, I continued to mow their lawn. For one, it gave me a little spending money, but somehow I could just never quit. It seemed that every time I was just about to tell them I was not going to take care of their yard anymore, there would be Jennie in something just a little bit nicer, just a little bit more revealing, and there went my plans right down the tube. It never dawned on me that maybe she was always coming out when I was there BECAUSE I was there. Later she admitted that she liked looking at me, shirtless, muscular, and glistening with sweat, just as much as she enjoyed my ogling her.

Although I dreamed of Jennie, fantasized about her, I was really an innocent. Although I'd been on the football team I have to admit I was a bit of a nerd. I had good grades, parents that kept close tabs on me, and was actually very shy. Consequently when I graduated from high school, I suppose I was a bit unusual as I'd never had a girlfriend. Not that there hadn't been a few I was interested in, or that were interested in me, it had just never been that girls were my priority and nothing ever developed.

The first time I saw Jennie's tits was a downblouse. It was during a time that I knew her husband was away for a month on business. She was weeding in the garden in back, I was mowing the lawn. I finished up in front and as I came around the corner of the house, there she was on her hands and knees with her halter top hanging down. Without effort I was looking clear between her breasts to her belly button. Although I didn't see nipple, I saw everything but. I positioned the lawnmower so that with every pass I could spend as much time looking down her shirt as possible. 

Seeing down her blouse, seeing the unencumbered flesh of her nearly naked breasts was too much. I had to stare. I kept staring, hoping to see a complete breast, to see a nipple peeking out. After several passes of the lawn mower, she sat up, destroying my view of her cleavage. She wiped the sweat off her brow and waved. I waved back at her, and she went back to work. But every time she leaned forward her breasts could be seen freely swaying through the neck opening of her halter. I slowed every time I got in position craving to see all that I could. 

Of course the expected physiological response to my body happened - I ended up with a raging hard-on. Being the innocent that I was, I tried to hide it. This was, of course, virtually impossible to hide wearing only cut off Levi's and no shirt. The best defense was to face the other way, however then I couldn't look down here tank top. As I moved to the further corner of the yard, I had less and less opportunity to look down Jennie's shirt. From the amount of weeding that had been done I knew she had been out for some time. It wasn't to much of a surprise when at the corner I turned to look and she had disappeared. I was disappointed, but relieved, and relived every peek in my mind as I finished the yard. 

I put all the tools away, finished cleaning up and checked the sprinklers. There was one that wasn't working right, and as typically happens when checking sprinklers I got mildly wet. It was hot so it felt good, but when I went to the door to ask for the pay I was wet, with muddy shoes. When I knocked on the door, at first there was no answer, but then I heard footsteps and she came to the door. She was inside in the dark, I was out in the bright sunshine, so really couldn't see her, but she could see me. She told me to take my shoes off and come on in, she'd get the money. I told her that was OK, I'd just wait outside. She sort of insisted, saying she'd get us both a cold drink. 

The drink sounded pretty good, so I took the shoes off, now just wearing shorts, and stepped inside into the kitchen. She wasn't there so I called out, "Hello?" 

"Be right there," she hollered back from the other end of the house. A moment later she came in, barefoot, and wearing a bathrobe. "I just took a shower – I was so hot and sticky from the garden. Would you like a coke or Ice Tea?" 

"Coke", I answered. She got us both one, and took them to the kitchen table, putting the money by one of the glasses. She set the glasses down next to each other, as the opposite side of the table was against the wall. 

"Sit down," she told me as she turned back and got a towel to wipe up the water from the ice on the counter. I sat, and a moment later she came to sit down too. Her robe gapped just a bit as she sat, bending over just slightly so I got a hint of cleavage, and as she straightened up, the hint of cleavage remained. We small talked for a while; she wanted to know if I'd seen any good movies or other such nonsense, gradually extending out the stay. I was not in the least bit upset about staying as every time she moved, the robe came just a bit looser, showed just a bit more cleavage. Finally I ran out of coke and she got up to get us both some more. 

By now, her robe was well down between her breasts; it was obvious she had nothing on underneath, at least not up top. Her breasts were a magnificent creamy white, offset by the golden tan lines, and I was seeing more of them unobstructed than I'd ever seen before. I was having a hard time looking at her face, and stupidly thought she must not really be noticing that I was enjoying the view, but then again – all 18 year olds are pretty much brain damaged anyway. The trouble with this is that I once again had a raging hard on. The more we sat and talked, the more she showed. The more she showed, the harder I got. I was in a pickle knowing that I needed to get up to leave and that there was no way once I'd gotten up to hide it. 

At last the coke disappeared and she stood up, taking both glasses to the sink. I was hoping she would offer a refill, but she didn't. I quickly stood up, hoping to be able to face the other way so she wouldn't see but she said "Just a moment before you go." I was caught – nothing to do but try and keep facing the door. I wasn't looking at her, but was slowly walking toward the door as she was coming up behind me. 

"I was just wondering, if I showed you mine would you show me yours?" I looked back at her, over my shoulder, and her robe was now open to the waist, her beautiful breasts exposed to me for the first time. 

I stopped, speechless. My eyes were at first locked on her breasts, but I looked up at her face, a pleasant, self satisfied smile on her face, then back down to her breasts.

I couldn't take my eyes them. Her breasts were white untanned mounds with a darker brown triangle between them where her natural neckline resided. Across the face of them was a lighter tan mark, just barely missing her nipples, where she'd been tanning in her bikini. Her rock hard nipples were surrounded with small deep red areolas set slightly on the upper side so they appeared very perky. She still had the tie around the waist, so all I could see was her topside, but that was enough. I don't remember what I said but I'm sure I stammered something. 

"I know you've been admiring them for quite some time and I've really enjoyed it and I've been admiring you for quite some time and I think I'd really enjoy it if I could see you too," she said, She continued talking like this, somewhat shyly, somewhat unsure, somewhat determined to get what she wanted. She walked up to me, turned me to face her, and ran her hand down the front of my shorts over my hard-on. "You don't need to be afraid, just relax and do what comes naturally." 

I stood there her beautiful breasts just inches from my face. "They're beautiful."

"I've heard that before," she said and paused, just letting me look. "Would you like to touch them?" I looked at her face, then back at her tits, and reached up to touch boobs for the first time in my life. I felt her nipples in the palm of my hand, and squeezed each one, like a big balloon. 

"Not like that – they aren't balloons. Haven't you ever felt titties before?" I shook my head no – and she said "Well maybe we just need to teach you a few things." She took my hand from her tit and led me down the hall to her bedroom. Once there, she stopped turned and began to undo my belt. I didn't stop her, and soon she was undoing my pants. Slipping her thumbs into my underwear, she pulled them over my cock and dropped them to the floor. 

As my pants dropped, she looked down and said "First things first, lets get you cleaned up". She turned and again reached for my hand, drug me into the bathroom. She pulled the curtain aside, reached in adjusting the water, and then turned, dropped her robe for the first time and said "Come on – get in". I climbed into the shower and she climbed in behind. I was aroused more than I'd ever been aroused before. I'd never seen a naked woman, I'd never felt a bare tit. But I had masturbated before to dreams of this exact scenario. I knew what to expect and knew I was practically there. 

She took the soap, lathered it up in her hands, and began to rub it on my chest. She rubbed it across my nipples which were quite sensitive although she didn't concentrate on them, but continued lower until her soapy hands reached my cock. No sooner than she touched it and I began to spurt, great gobs of cum, clear onto her belly and pubic hair. 

My head was ringing, my ears pounding, and all I could think was "Oh no – she doesn't want to see this." But she knew exactly what to do. As soon as I started cumming, she continued to stroke my cock, slowly milking it until I quit spurting. 

She was saying something softly like "That's good. Yes. I know you needed this." After I quit cumming, she soaped up her hands again and first washed my cum off her belly than continued to wash me, from head to foot, front and back, kneeling down to reach my legs and feet. After she was done, she said "Ok, now you wash me". And I did. She had me wash her from top to bottom, making sure I touched every inch of her, including her anus and pussy. I did as she told me, then she turned the shower off, we got out and first she dried me than I dried her. Taking me by the hand again, she took me back into her bedroom. Half an hour later I was no longer a virgin.

For the rest of that summer, and every time her husband was away for the next year, I was Jennie's lover. I say lover because that's what we did. She taught me how to pleasure her in specifics, and every other woman in generalities. She taught me that no two women were alike, but yet in many ways they were the same. She sucked my cock for the first time, and taught me how to eat pussy, long and soft, short and hard. She showed me that one time a good hard cock in her mouth could practically get her off, and at times even a tongue on her clit wouldn't and she needed to rub herself to get off. She showed me how a woman masturbated, and had me jerk off for her. She showed me every position she could think of and we did them in ever room of the house. I wasn't in love with Jennie, I was in lust, but we made love. She shared her body with me, but I never shared her bed. Sometimes we made love in her bed, but always during the day. At night – she slept alone. Somehow for her, it was OK to share her body with me, that was just sex. But the bed was hers and her husbands, and although she had sex with me in that bed, I wasn't allowed to sleep there. 

Although I'd started at the Junior College, college wasn't for me. I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life, except to get laid more often. When I was 19, I joined the Marines, and left my younger life behind. Four years later when I came back, Jennie and her husband had moved. I've never seen her again.



HIS STORY 

While I was growing up in the bedroom of Jennie, my wife was growing up next door to my best friend. And, although most people think that guys screw and tell, I never told another soul, including my best friend, about Jennie. He never did understand why I liked to spend summer afternoons mowing lawns instead of doing things with him, but I never told. 

My wife, Debs (actually Debbie but her nickname as a kid was Debs and it still sticks to this day), is six years younger than I am. When I was 18, she was a pre-pubescent skinny little runt with a cute face. Although she was always around with my buds little sister, I never treated her differently or saw her differently than any other kid. When I was 23, and getting out of the Marines, I stopped by my friend's house, in full dress uniform, and there was this gorgeous, voluptuous creature next door in short shorts and a halter top. While I was standing out by the car talking to my buddy, she came over, attracted by the uniform and we began to talk. At first I didn't recognize her at all, but then when my buddy said "You remember her – this is Debs – my little sister's friend?" I suddenly recognized her.

What a difference. From 5' and 82 pounds to 5'5, 125 and absolutely exquisitely proportioned. 

Debs was a late bloomer. At 16 she was the last in her class to get her first period, and still looked like a 13 year old. When I saw her at almost 18, she had grown and blossomed overnight until she had one of "THE" bodies to die for as a senior. Not only had she developed late, but she also came from a strange family, so she was a little bit socially inept. Her father had refused to let her date at all to that time. Her dad was a fundamentalist Jesus Freak. Although she didn't quite buy into all the "Don'ts" that come with that, she'd still had no meaningful social interaction. 

As she had been the last to develop physically she remembered all those boys who had meanly put a flat book into their shirts and said "Hey Debs remind you of anyone?" or any of the mean things that school kids do to each other. But, when she came down with the body of the century, it didn't take long for her to realize that at last she had the power to lord over them. During high school she'd never dated, she'd had no exploratory sexual sessions, no kissing, no touchy feely – nothing. Then I came along in my Marine dress uniform. 

The attraction was mutual, and during the course of the conversation I asked her if she'd like to go out some time. At first she said she couldn't, but then asked me if her Daddy said it was OK – would I like to take her to her Senior Prom? I said sure, and she asked me to come with her. She took me over to her house and into the living room where her father was reading the paper. She interrupted him, and introduced me, told how I used to hang out a lot next door, how I'd gone into the Marines but was just about to get out, and how she'd really like me to take her to her Senior Prom, and wanted to know if that was OK. Her dad looked me up and down, and asked two questions. 

"You getting an honorable discharge?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"Hmmph." He looked me in the eye, so I looked him right back. "Well, at least you'll look at me." He paused, then continued, "You're intentions with my daughter honorable?" 

Of course I had no idea what honorable intentions with a girl were, but I immediately said "Yes, sir".

Debs was ecstatic, and we immediately went back outside, where she told me he'd never said yes to anyone dating her before.

I wish it was one of those "and they all lived happily ever after" stories but it doesn't quite work that way. I got out of the Marines, took Debs to her senior prom, and thought she was the stuck up frigid snob queen from hell. I went wondering if I might get lucky, and didn't even get a good night kiss. I didn't even want to take her out again, but saw her every once in a while when I was over to my buddy's house. 




Deja Vu



This is a work of science-fiction in a general sense, and is not possible at all. All characters are made up, and are not based on any real persons dead or alive. All characters are of appropriate age in the story context. If this time of story is offensive to you please do not read it. 

*

John was a special child growing up. He had always felt that he may have had ESP or something close to it. He always had this sense that he had been to places that he never been to before, and meet people without having actually having meet them until he encountered these things later in life. His mother always said that it was déjà vu, or the feeling that you have seen something before.

John wanted to learn more about this déjà vu he had so he went to college where he learned about psychology, meta-psychology, and para-psychology. Along the way he also picked up training in hypnosis. What John was fascinated with most was Jung's theory of the collective unconscious. From the collective unconscious we get ideas like universal archetypes and primal fears. John seemed to think that it went further than that; that the idea of déjà vu was related to the collective unconscious and that it could be tapped and explored. That was exactly John's plan in life was to explore the collective unconscious.

John was able to secure himself a tenured professor position at a local college. He was given a grant to set up a sleep lab in the basement of one of the lesser used buildings on campus. John liked it because the stairwell was covered by brick and ivy which made it difficult to see people coming and going up and down the stairs. Plus it was in an area of campus where the foot traffic was minimal, so he could be left alone in peace to do his research.

John had been working for over a year without much success in terms of accessing the collective unconscious, but one night he decided to try something different. He put himself into a self-induced hypnotic trance and was able to give himself direction as to his level in the dreamscape as John described it. He was able to command himself into a lucid dreaming state, whereby he would be able to control his dreamscape. It almost had a quality of astral projection which was something that John had learned about. For the first time John noticed something. First he noticed that he was able to control his dream, second he was able to fully manipulate the environment in which he was in, and lastly he noticed various specks of light. These specks of light were like stars in terms of brightness and intensity, but unlike stars these specks of light were close by at ground level.

John became curious so he headed toward the closest speck which happened to be the dimmest light. As he approached it he felt strange in that he was sensing that someone else was nearby. As he touched the light he felt the presence of another person. It was difficult to tell much about the person but he got the sense that this person was a male. John had to push his mind toward and into the light to learn more about this person. It seemed that this was one of the campus students.

Excited about his find he wanted to run an experiment so he found a bright light and approached it. This time he got a totally different experience. He did not have to work as hard to find out about this person, and in fact he seemed to be drawn into the light. People can be either easy to hypnotize or difficult, so John reasoned that the brighter lights meant a person more susceptible to hypnotic suggestion than the dimmer lights. As John allowed himself to be drawn toward then eventually into the light he instantly became overwhelmed with the thoughts and feelings of a young girl, woman in fact. It seems that John was at some level in the mind of one of the collage co-eds. 

He could sense that she was dreaming of something so he decided to see if he could access her dreams. With a little push he found her laying in a pile of leaves, enjoying the sun lightly playing across her pure snow white skin. There was a slight breeze which not only gently blew her long blonde hair playfully across her face, but also made her nipples erect. John was able to hide behind a tree. He was eager to see how much control he had over her. Trying to use the breeze to his advantage he was able to call out to her unconscious mind. She did not startle and in fact she continued to lay amongst the leaves, believing it was just the wind talking to her.

John planted a suggestion that she was relaxed, but very horny and that she was to play with her breasts. Slowly she lifted first her right hand to her left breast and played with it. She massaged her breast slowly occasionally pulling on her nipple. She let out a small moan of pleasure. She toyed with her breast until John suggested that she put her left hand down her shorts. She showed very little resistance to the suggestion and her left hand glided under the band of her shorts and panties. John could see that she was fingering herself slowly and felt something strange. He could feel her body's physical reactions to this all. He felt her heart start to race and flutter, and her felt her pussy start to get wet. This excited John and he wanted to feel more. He suggested that she bring herself off as fast as she could.

With the command in place the dream-self of the girl was a blur of sexual energy. Her hands were franticly frigging her now enflamed pussy. She was shoving two fingers deep into her vagina, trying to reach her sacred G-spot. John was now sensing that the girl's arms were actively moving. He felt that they were both on her mons and were stroking quickly. John tried to reach out to her right arm and found he was able to move it so he brought it up to her lips to lick off her juices. He used the right hand to tickle the rosebud of her asshole. When he inserted only the tip of her finger he felt her experience a mind shattering orgasm. He felt her pussy contract multiple times around her fingers, and felt her moan. 

After she calmed down from her little death, John let her be but accessed her memories instead. What he found interesting was that she was interested in taking his class, and thought about adding it. John backed out of her mind and headed back to his own speck of light. John woke with a satisfied feeling of just having had sex, while not actually having it. Before he went home for the rest of the night he had to prepare the lab for tomorrow night.

The next morning John woke up, took a shower, shaved his pubic hair, got dressed, and ate breakfast. His first class of the day was at 10:00am and he started to head toward his office to pick up his lecture materials. On his way toward the classroom he bumped into the girl. "Excuse me, I am so clumsy that I did not see you there. Are you ok?"

"Yeah I'm fine, Mr.?"

"Professor Anderson, Professor John Anderson."

"Have we met before? Because I could swear that I have seen you before somewhere."

"Well I do walk around campus a lot, maybe it was there?"

"No not here, somewhere else, it's as if almost in a dream."

"A good dream I hope." Thinking to himself that it was a highly sexual dream, "What you just explained is sometimes called déjà vu. I am something of a expert on that subject."

"I was thinking of adding your course, is it too late?"

"No it isn't Ms.?"

"Sarah Lamb. Cool, I get the necessary paperwork to you before class starts. Thanks Professor." She waved goodbye, turned and with a whirl of her skirt showed John her pink panties, as she bounded off toward the registers office.

"As we enter into any hypnotic state our body is capable of responding to verbal commands. It is at this level that we are able to suggest changes in a person's behavior. This is used in cases of such bad habits as over-eating, smoking, and tardiness!." With an emphasis on tardiness as Sarah walked into the lecture late and found that the only desk available was in the front row. As she sat down she was uncomfortably aware that her panties were showing, being seen by the professor, and were quickly getting wet. Sarah was not sure why she was getting aroused; maybe it had something to do with her dream last night. 

"Sarah can I see you for a moment?"

"I'm sorry I was late coming to class earlier. I had a difficult time adding the class."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Nope I'm good. Is that all professor? I have another class to get to."

"I was just curious if your mother was coming to visit you since it is mother's weekend?"

"Yeah she is, in fact she is already here and staying with me in my dormroom."

"Well I hope you two have a fun weekend then."

"Thanks Professor we will." Again she whirled around and showed her panties as she headed out the door. This time though she turned her head back to look at John staring at her panties and he swore that she winked at him.

"Well time to have fun with Sarah and perhaps her mother." John was prepping the lab for tonight's experiment. He had set up a couple of cameras on tripods as various angels, and at different zoom levels as well. The stripped out of his clothes, laid down on the twin bed, and self-induced himself. This time John found it easier to enter into the dreamscape, and was better able to control the environment. It did not take him long to find Sarah's speck of light, and interestingly next to it was just as he had hoped was another bright speck of light. John previously speculated that a person's ego strength or will, was an inheritable trait, and thereby making Sarah's mother also highly susceptible to hypnotic suggestion and control.

John entered Sarah's light. He found her again laying down amongst the leaves, but this time he whispered on the breeze for her to go to sleep. In fact he put in the command that she enter into a very deep sleep one from which only he could awaken her. Once that was down John started to take command of Sarah's body. He found that to control the whole body was difficult, and in fact it felt very sluggish almost as if she was sleep walking. He slowly started to make his way over to his lab with her body. He made sure no one was looking before her walked her down the stairs to the sleep lab. She opened the door and walked in.

John was excited and scared at the same time. He wondered what it would be like to have sex with himself while in someone else's body. Well no time like the present. He slowly removed Sarah's clothes, and when he removed her panties he placed them over his body's nose. John brought Sarah to the side of the bed and sat down. He reached out and started to stroke his penis with her right hand. Slowly at first just to help him get coordinated, but then he eventually picked up the pace. Because he was not sure of his body's reaction to sexual stimulation without his soul being in his body, he took a Viagra and a Cialis just to be on the safe side. 

John's stroking was quickly rewarded and he had himself hard in moments. He bent over and tentatively placed her tongue on his penis. He started to wonder if this made him gay, or at least bi, but then again he was having sex with a woman just only from the other side. John couldn't take it any longer he sucked his dick into her mouth and found that she was an expert cock sucking. Before he realized it he had all of his dick down her throat and was pumping franticly. John noticed something interesting even though his spirit was not within his own body his brain's primitive/animal area was taking over and John could hear his body grunt and groan and make thrusting motions.

After a few minutes of deep throating himself, John straddled himself, and he lowered Sarah's body onto his big cock. When he did he felt a sharp pain in her pussy. When he looked down he started to see blood run down his dick. "Oh my god! She's a virgin! I knew that this would be interesting." John started to fuck himself silly using Sarah's body as a fuck toy. Up and down, up and down her went. John's body was grunting and groaning, and occasionally thrusting back. There was no other moments from John's body. John started to feel an orgasm build in Sarah's body. He kept up the fucking pace. He started to moan using her voice, a voice that was being captured on multiple video tapes for later use.

"Oh my god this feels so good, I'm going to make myself cum on both sides, this is what heaven must feel like. Oh, oh, oh! Grrrrrrrr!" John was highly enjoying fucking himself when it occurred to him that he was not using any protection, and did not feel that Sarah was on the pill. He started to get worried, but that quickly faded when he hear his body growl out load, then pump loads of pent up sperm deep into Sarah's potentially fertile womb. "Oh yes that's it make me cum, cum in my cunt and give me your baby making man juice." That was for show on the camera. At this point John did not care if he knocked her up, and in fact he thought that this was how it had to be with all the women that he will do this too and with. In fact Sarah's mom will be here with her all weekend long. I think I'll try her next after I dump another load into this cum dumpster. 

John got off his dick only long enough to stick it up Sarah's ass. "Oh fuck this hurts!" He went slow to avoid feeling the pain. Eventually it started to feel better and he started to build up a nice tempo. John played with Sarah's breasts and felt the weight of them in his hands. He pinched and pulled her nipples, and was even able to use her tongue on her nipples. John was building Sarah up for another orgasm, when he heard himself start to grunt more loudly. He knew what this meant. With a audible pop the dick came out of Sarah's ass and was instantly reinserted into her waiting sloppy pussy. It only took a few strokes before John and Sarah were both orgasming together. John could feel the second load of jism being pumped into Sarah, and thought that she would have to explain to her mother how she got knocked up, when she herself would not be sure of how it happened.

After a short rest John put Sarah's clothes back on, headed back to her dorm room, put her back into her pajamas, put her back into bed, and then slowly withdrew from her light. John took a moment to rest in the dreamscape and reenergize himself, before he turned and started to head for the bright light right next to Sarah's...

(to be continued, maybe)



Déjà vu



"I told you I was tired," she said. 

"Please don't do this," her husband uttered. He was sitting on the other side of the restaurant table, a persuasive look on his face. 

She could already feel her jaw muscles tighten with frustration. Agreeing to attend to the business dinner with him was generous enough from her side. Now he assumed that she would join him and his business associates for a visit to a night club. Even the fact that she was pregnant didn't seem to make a difference to him. 

"You promised to take me back to the hotel," she complained. This wasn't the first time the man was unwilling to pay much attention to her needs.

"I guess I did," he said in the most sheepish tone of his, just to irritate her even more. "But you must know that this new client is very important, and if he wishes to celebrate the new business deal in the night club, I have to be there. I can't risk losing this contract."

That was so typical of him. She crossed her arms and tried to keep calm. Just as she thought the frustration would soon make her burst in to tears, she heard a voice behind her back.

"Hey, can I help you?"

She turned around to see the speaker. It was one of her husband's business associates, a tall blonde guy with a slim, athlete figure. They'd been introduced to each other the night before. She and her husband had arrived just in time for a late night snack at the hotel bar. There she had met some of the attendants of the major business meeting that took place during the weekend. She had immediately found the man very likable and attractive. There was also something distantly familiar in him, as if they had met each other somewhere before, although she couldn't remember when and where that might have been.

"I overheard your discussion," the man continued. "I have an early morning flight to catch and I need to get going soon." His tone was very friendly and polite. "So, why don't I escort the lady to the hotel?" 

A cute creature he was, she couldn't deny that. Young and helpful like a boy scout. The thought made her blush lightly.

"Well, that would be generous of you, my friend," her husband said to his associate, noticeably relieved to be able to skip an argument with her. He turned to address her now. "I have complete trust in him. He'll take very good care of you and ensure that you'll get back to the hotel safely."

With a wry smile and a handshake between the men, the deal was done. She watched her husband disappear in the crowd of the important people he was supposed to entertain that night. She was now left alone with the guy that had just saved her from a horrible choice -- hours spent in a noisy nightclub or a taxi ride to the hotel with a pissed-off husband.

"Thanks." She smiled gratefully. "Without you this night would have turned out to be a disaster."

"At your service, ma'am." He returned her smile. "Now, let's grab a taxi."

On the back seat of the taxi she was still happy that the man had saved her evening, but now there was also something else in the atmosphere. Being seated near someone that attractive in a small closed space was a little awkward. No, 'awkward' probably wasn't the most accurate description -- it was almost arousing, she noticed to her surprise. Her sexual appetite had reached a whole new level along the pregnancy, and now she was painfully aware how poorly she was having her needs met in her marriage. Trying to push away these somewhat disturbing feelings she decided to rest her eyes for a moment.

He broke the silence. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," she nodded, eyes still closed. "This pregnancy makes me so tired."

"How many months are you pregnant?"

"About halfway." 

"You radiate the maternal energy around you very beautifully."

She opened her eyes and looked at him. To hear something like that -- a compliment that felt very deep and genuine -- wasn't what she could have easily expected.

"You know, I've been watching you the whole weekend," he said. "Can't help it."

She met his gaze, and there was something compelling about his eyes, something strangely familiar but inexplicable at the same time. 'I've been looking at you as well', she thought but didn't open her mouth to say it.

"Who are you?" she asked instead. "Have we met each other somewhere before?"

"I don't think so," he replied. "At least not in this lifetime."

She spent the next few minutes gazing outside from the car window. She could sense that the man beside her was aroused as well. Or was she just imagining?

The tension was broken when the taxi pulled up in front of the hotel. Before she could think of stepping out, the man had already walked around the car and opened the door for her. 

He offered her his arm. "Here you go, ma'am. The street is slippery."

These gestures of a gentleman made her feel flattered but also a little uneasy. She grabbed his arm anyway. "Thank you." 

They walked towards the hotel entrance in silence. The cold winter air between them was charged with something electric, and she became aware that her exhaustion had vanished almost completely. 

He was still holding her arm as he escorted her along the corridor. By her hotel room door they stopped. 

"I guess this is goodbye then," the guy said. There was something sad about his voice, as if she had been reminded of another farewell so distant that the details of it had been completely lost long ago. 

There were certain crossroads in life where a choice had to be made, and this would certainly be one of them.

"It doesn't have to be," she heard herself say.

He stroked her cheek briefly with the back of his hand. He clearly knew what she meant.

The decision was made in an instant. The key card slid in the lock with ease and the hotel room door swung open. They entered the room, and as the door closed behind them, already were they undressing each other.

The warmth of his mouth on her lips and on her neck was soon followed by a familiar feeling of wetness between her legs. He gently unzipped her dress, and she watched it fall on the floor. She realised how badly she had craved for this. His fingers danced smoothly on her skin as he removed her bra. It was as if his fingertips and mouth had been everywhere at once. 

"Pregnant women make my knees go weak." 

He stroked her round belly with the palm of his hand. Then he moved his hand slowly towards her breasts and teased them just enough to have her nipples come to life. That made her moan of pleasure. Due to the pregnancy hormones her breasts were very sensitive to touch.

She unbuttoned his shirt and battled with his belt for a moment. "I'm not good with belt buckles," she apologised. 

He reassured her with a smile. "It's alright."

He took off his pants, and his boxers couldn't hide the fact that he was already hard for her. Soon he was completely naked, standing before her with nothing to hide. He was very well equipped, she noticed to her delight.

'Should I be feeling guilty now', she asked herself vaguely as she leaned on the bed. When the man removed her underwear and began to explore her most delicate part with his mouth and tongue, the last remaining bits of rational thought disappeared from her brain. Her initial resistance was flushed over by powerful waves of pleasure. From now on she was nothing but sex -- a hot and needy female body with no formal control. Making love to a man she barely knew was the only thing in the world that she cared about right now. 

She drew his face close to hers and kissed him, able to taste her own fluids from his lips. "I need you inside me."

He nodded and kissed her once more. He took a kneeling position between her thighs, one that would be comfortable for her belly.

"Need guidance?" she asked.

His voice was raspy. "Please." 

She wrapped her fingers around his throbbing cock, which made him utter a low moan. She guided him to the soft opening that glistened between her legs. As his impressive length sunk in her, they made eye contact. At that moment she felt a shiver and a strange sense of recognition.

'I've done this before', was the thought that hit her. She wasn't able to process it further, however, since the increased blood flow in her lower body combined with the pleasurable rhythm of his thrusts made her unable to think clearly. 

It soon became evident that he knew exactly how to use his equipment for a lady's greatest satisfaction. After all the poor lovers that she'd had she could finally enjoy the real thing. She wanted nothing more than to receive all the gifts that he was able to offer her with his wonderful cock. To be fucked by this mysterious man became her sole purpose, her religion.

Then, suddenly, he drew back and the object that had filled her so intensely slid out of her. 

"Please don't take it away," she complained.

He laughed. "I'd like to watch as I sink deep in you from behind," he said and rolled her over on her knees. "You have such a beautiful bottom."

"Please," she cried again and lifted her hips in mad lust. "I want you back inside me." 

To be in a position like that, so clearly exposed, would have made her feel humiliated in other circumstances. But with this man it was different. It was safe to surrender completely.

He caressed her labia softly with his thumb, and she could hear a smile in his voice. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite get you. What was it that you wanted?" 

"Ooh," she sighed, as frustration kept building up her desire. "My pussy is aching to have you inside right now!" 

"Oh, you want this?" He was still playing innocent. She felt his erection against her inner thigh while he cupped her buttocks in his hands. 

"Yes, yes, yes," she begged, unable to keep her voice down. "Please fuck me!"

"Yes ma'am," he said, "I will." 

She felt the erect member press against her throbbing labia and finally slide inside her. The intense sensation of being penetrated from behind left her gasping for air. Every thrust massaged her sensitive g-spot at exactly the right angle.

She had been having problems reaching orgasm with all her partners. Now, however, she felt a surprising sensation of an approaching climax. "I'm coming," she whispered almost inaudibly. He heard it though, and drew her bottom tightly against his hips. A vibration of pure ecstatic pleasure flew through her body.

The rhythmic squeezing of her muscles around his manhood seemed to ignite him also. He was now breathing heavily.

"Almost there?" she asked as soon as she got back her ability to speak. 

"Almost."

"Please," she said. "I want to see your face."

He slid out of her, and after she had climbed in his lap, back in. Their swinging made her consciousness shift to almost a trance-like state. She felt his every movement, so aware of every inch of him inside her.

"Come for me baby," she murmured and bit his lip gently. "Please come for me." 

It didn't take long for him to follow her request. When he reached his climax, she placed her palm on his face and lifted his chin just a bit to meet his gaze. For a fraction of a second she thought she was able to see through him, up to the bottom of his soul. And she was almost certain that what she saw in his eyes at that moment was a flash of recognition, similar to the one that she had felt earlier. 

They collapsed on the bed, mingled together, still breathing heavily. Lying in his lap in the sweet afterglow was all she wanted to do, but little by little she became uncomfortably aware that he should get going soon, before it was too late. 

She felt a compelling urge to be sure about something before he was gone. 

"Did you feel it too?" she asked.

"Feel what exactly?" He caressed her belly lazily as he spoke.

"I got this strange feeling... you know, as if it wasn't the first time we did this."

"Like a déjà vu?" His finger travelled along her side.

She nodded. "Something like that."

"Hmm. Intriguing." He cupped her breast in his hand. 

It couldn't have been just her imagination, could it?

"You think we've done this before?" She shivered a little as he drew a circle around her nipple. 

"Not sure." He was stroking the base of her neck now. "Although I am certain about one thing."

"What's that?" She was suddenly aware of a new round of arousal sneaking in.

He had a tantalising smirk on his face. "I would definitely do it again."



Déjà Vu



At the end of summer, having gotten dejected at finding nothing but minimum wage jobs, and finally realizing that educated people generally made more, I decided to go back to school. The Marines had taught me to not just wait for life to come to me but to set a goal and to go out and get it. I went by the local University, talked to a counselor and signed up again for college. As a Junior College transfer, and having just got out of the Marines, I found myself OK'd for the fall semester, even though I was quite a bit late in applying. 

As luck would have it, Debs had also been accepted at the University. We met again in an "Interpersonal Communications" class that was supposed to teach people how to talk to each other. It must have worked, when I talked to her without trying to talk my way into her pants, we found out that we really did like each other. And, when I finally did get into her pants (and her into mine) I found that she knew ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about sex. She had no clue what an orgasm was, what cum was, how babies were really made, what felt good, what didn't. She'd never masturbated, never thought about it. And so, all the lessons that Jennie had given to me, I ended up giving back to Debs. 

It took a while for her to relax and enjoy it. At first she thought it was "dirty" for me to go down on her, and heaven forbid she could never suck a cock. She didn't mind when I played with her breasts, but thought I was weird when I sucked her nipples (which despite her protests got rock hard), and would gently push my head away when I tried to go down on her, and didn't like me fingering her at all. 

When we finally had intercourse for the first time, I got off, but it wasn't so good for her. She had never gotten in touch with her own sexuality enough to know that she did, or could, want sex. Then one time, maybe out of desperation, I convinced her to let me tie her hands to the bedposts and then spent about an hour licking her nipples, and belly and earlobes and every inch of her body except her pussy. Finally when I was to the point where I could take it no more I reached to touch her pussy, and found her wetter than she'd ever been before. With her hands tied, she couldn't stop me and gradually I went down until my tongue was tasting her wonderful pussy juices for the first time. I worked her every magical way that Jennie had taught me until finally she exploded in her first orgasm ever. As I slid up to penetrate her, she was literally crying. Later she said she had no idea her body could do that, and from that time on she never doubted me when I taught her things. 

Before that first time, sex was something that she had done for me. After that time, sex was something that we did for each other. I made her masturbate as I watched, she watched while I masturbated. I bought her a vibrator, she loved to use it on herself alone and with me. I never had to ask for a blowjob, a few sessions later she just said as she moved down to my cock and started licking "Like this?" Again, following Jennie's lead, I told her exactly what felt good, how to do it right, when to squeeze, when to suck and especially when I was going to cum. 

She didn't at first take me in her mouth, but she did ask if doing so was better. When I said yes, she told me she didn't know if she could do that or not. But a few days later, as we were in a 69, her on top with my tongue buried in her puss, she began to cum. As she came, I tried to drive her to madness with my tongue, and the harder I worked her, the harder she sucked my cock. By that time she had learned to recognize when I was about to cum, and as I tried to warn her she just said "Don't stop" and continued to milk my cock with her mouth. As I blew in her mouth, she shuddered again and again in an intense orgasm. She found she loved the taste of my cum, and loved giving blowjobs; she loved how my cock would get harder and bigger to the attention of her tongue and lips. Sometimes when I was on the phone and not paying "proper" attention to her she would climb between my legs and start sucking me off until I got off the phone and did her.

We got married just after our Junior year. The sex just kept getting better. She found she had a little bit of an exhibitionistic side, where she loved to show off. She was particularly fond of silky shirts that showed off her nipples. She said that every time she wore them she had this urge to find one of those boys from junior high or high school with the books and say "Don't you wish you'd treated me a little better?" She gradually found that she liked to do it any place, at any time. 

Over the years, one of the things that has carried through from our very first days together was that I encouraged Debs to tell me what turned her on. She particularly liked men's butts. Whether it was the bartender with the tight pants, the ass of the quarterback bending over to take the snap, or whatever, she'd tell me about them. She'd tell me later that night about how she'd wondered about his "package" or whether his cock was as tasty as mine. I always shared everything with her also, how I thought her co-worker was a fox, or did she see that the girl in the slinky dress at the mall had hard nipples? (Actually it was Debs that pointed out that I never missed a set of "High Beams" and I finally realized that nipples are my favorite part of the body). Anyway, sharing always led to great sex; knowing that we could fantasize about someone else, that our partner knew it, and it was OK to share that fantasy kept our sex fresh and creative.

We graduated in '81 and were both able to get jobs in LA and moved to the San Fernando Valley. In '83 we bought our first house, and met Jenny and Bill. Anytime I meet someone named Jenny, it always reminds me of my "teacher", but I've never run across her again. Anyway, this Jenny and Debs hit it off and became good friends. Over the next year, they started doing a lot of things together, including going to the gym together to work out. Jenny is physically a bit smaller than Debs. Born in Korea of an American father and Korean mother, she is two years younger than Debs, 8 years younger than me. Her mother died in a car accident when Jenny was 9, and she was raised by her father and grandmother. As far as I was concerned, Jenny was strikingly beautiful. Occasionally - when they were back from exercising together - I noticed she had a couple of dynamite high beams.

Debs and Jenny began running around together in their off hours. Soon they were doing virtually everything together. Good friends turned into best friends. As Debs got to know Jenny better, Debs didn't hesitate to talk about having sex, or wanting sex, or how we had done it on the back lawn at midnight, or whatever; but when it came to talking about sex – it wasn't a two way conversation. Debs would talk, Jenny would listen.

Two years after we bought our first house, Debs and I moved. Just a block or so to a house with a pool, and then we added a spa. Whenever we were alone, we went skinny dipping and often a late night spa session ended in outdoor fucking. Debs loved to sunbathe nude, and occasionally when I wasn't around Jenny would join her. (Debs used to describe Jenny's nipples to me and admitted that I really would like them.) While the pool got too cold to use in the winter, the spa we could use year round. Something we discovered by accident one night was that one of the spa jets designed to hit the back of the neck was just perfect for pleasuring Debs. If she hooked her legs over the edge, and I held her head and shoulders, she could slide closer or further away and direct the jet onto her clit for a great orgasm. I loved to hold her like this, as she could lean on my shoulder and I could play with her nipples while the jet blew her to orgasm. 

As luck would have it, my job began to include quite a bit of travel during the week. Debs was seldom alone however, when I was away Debs and Jenny were together virtually every night. Although Debs had one way talks with Jenny about our sex life, at no time in our relationship with Jenny and Bill did it ever occur to either of us that their sex life wasn't the same as ours. 

One evening I called fairly late to say goodnight. During the conversation, Debs told me that Jenny had asked her if we really had sex as often as we talked about. She said we did, but Jenny had looked kind of funny and just shrugged non-committally when she said "Don't you?" back to her. We talked about it a little, but I didn't think too much of it until a few nights later. I was supposed to be home for the weekend, but as luck would have it, I ended up being delayed for a week while the project went on. I was busy Saturday and Sunday, but got a call from Debs late Sunday. She couldn't wait to tell me about what had happened.

Late Saturday morning, Jenny was over to the house, and Debs was working on her all over tan. Jenny joined her, then in the afternoon they went shopping, and finally in the early evening on to the gym for exercise. Debs said that while at the gym, there were two great looking guys with tank top shirts and shorts working out that were really sexy. She said she pointed them out to Jenny (which believe me – chances are that Debs and Jenny were the two best hotties there). So there's the setup: I've been away for a week – which means Debs is horny. She was sunbathing nude which usually ended up with sex when I was home which gets Debs horny. She sees a couple of great looking guys at the gym, which almost always ends up with great sex as she tells me about it later - which means that basically Debs was REALLY horny. As they were on their way home, she confessed to Jenny "God, I'm horny. I could sure use the jet tonight". Jenny of course didn't know what that meant, so Debs explained how she could get off really well with the jet when I was there, but it took two people as she couldn't keep her head above water and really relax. 

She said that Jenny sat there for a while, and just as they pulled into the driveway. finally asked her "What do you mean when you say you get off?" Debs said at first she couldn't believe it, but as they sat there in the car talking that Jenny confessed that she had never had an orgasm. Jenny admitted that she thought Debs was seriously a little weird as she kept talking about how we had such great sex together, how we did it all the time, in all kinds of places and she wondered "WHY?" Debs told me at first she couldn't believe it herself. But they talked about it for quite a while, and Jenny finally convinced her she really had never had an orgasm. She didn't think she was really interested in sex, she put up with it from her husband whenever she had, she'd never instigated it, she didn't think she wanted it ever and it did nothing for her. 

Debs proceeded to tell her all about us, how she'd started out somewhat similar, how I'd taught her everything she knew, how now she absolutely loved it and couldn't do without it. She told her an orgasm was just wonderful, how it brought relaxation and release, eased cramps during her period, helped her periods go shorter, etc., etc., etc. She said it finally dawned on her that Jenny, just like her, had never had an older sister or best friend and had never "learned" sex. She said she could hear my voice in her head as she repeated what I'd said to her several years before: "How do you expect someone else to pleasure you if you don't know how to pleasure yourself?" So she told Jenny, "If you'll help me, I'll help you."

Debs drove Jenny over to her house, and when they went inside, her husband was already asleep in bed. She told him that she was going to spend the night with Debs as I was out of town and they were going to go shopping again first thing in the morning. He didn't seem to care, so back to our house they went. Debs said that at first she was really shy, although they'd sunbathed together nude, she was kind of bashful about the spa. She got out some wine and mixed it with 7-Up to make wine coolers. She said they both had a couple and then headed out to the spa. She told Jenny where to sit to hold her, and then climbed up into position and relaxed, floating backwards, her head resting on Jenny's shoulder like it normally rested on mine. She talked to her the entire time, telling her how she was adjusting herself, where the water jet was hitting, how she was moving a little closer or further away, talking the entire time right up until her orgasm. She told her how it was too strong, or too light or just right or that a little above or below for a while was good or how she was getting close so she didn't want it right on her clit, but once she started coming she moved so it was full force on the most sensitive spot; and told me how when she came, knowing the girl holding her had never had an orgasm, it was just that much more intensely erotic.

As far as I know this was Debs first sexual experience with another human being other than me. 

After she recovered, she helped Jenny get up into position. At first Jenny was anything but relaxed. Debs said she kept convincing her to give it a little longer, that she had to relax, to just float and let the water hold her up. Finally she loosened up, probably with the 7 and wine coolers help. She admitted it was beginning to feel good, (a good start) and later admitted that this felt a little better, that didn't, yeah that was pretty good etc. Debs told me that as she finally began to work towards an orgasm, she could see her nipples erecting. When Jenny said, with her voice quavering, "It's feeling very intense down there", Debs said she slid her hands up and gently squeezed Jenny's nipples, (the first time she'd ever touched Jenny or any other woman) which was just enough to send Jenny over the top and into her first ever orgasm. 

Debs kind of drew out the story, interspersing it between, "when are you going to be home?" and "God it was so erotic, if you'd been there to finger me I'd have come too" while telling me everything. She said it was so intensely erotic, knowing she'd just helped her best friend to an orgasm, without any expectation of anything for herself. 

Having been alone for more than a week, I was more than just a little horny myself. With Debs telling the story about her and one of my favorite fantasies, I decided I needed a little relief myself. I told Debs that I was horny as all get out – and how I was going to do myself as she continued telling me all about it. I asked her what she was doing, and found out she was lying naked on the bed. When I started masturbating, she did too, and we described what we were doing, and thinking and fantasizing. I didn't hesitate to tell Debs that I wished I could have been there to tweak Jenny's nipples and help her to come and how I bet she was tasty and I bet she could suck just as well as Debs could, and shot a load all over my stomach. Debs came herself, and we didn't say anything for a couple of minutes. Finally I told Debs I'd be right back and went to clean up before my cum ran all over the bed. 

When I came back, we were both a little better settled down (why is it when the little head gets hard the big head gets soft?) and could think and talk better. Debs said "Actually I don't think she can."

"Can what?"

"Suck as good.

"Huh?"

"Jenny. I don't think she can suck as good as I can. In fact, I don't think she's ever sucked at all. She said she and her husband had never done oral; that it sounded disgusting and she could never do that – so I don't think she ever has."

I was floored. I couldn't imagine a couple that had been married for a couple of years that hadn't tried oral sex. Even though this was the 80's, before Internet, DVD's and the easier access to porn and stuff that's out there today, most people were not prudes; the practices fine tuned by humans for the last couple of million years were regularly passed on – if you had an instructor that is. As this popped in my mind, I said it to Debs that this poor girl had just never had any sexual instruction. She knew things were supposed to work, she just didn't know how. With a little bit of prude-ism, an upbringing by an overzealous father, and a few other societal hang-ups, she just didn't know how to do things the rest of us knew "naturally".

I called Debs again a couple of nights later. We just had a short conversation as she was on her way to meet Jenny to go to the gym "and talk about sex". Later she told me that the entire week, when they were together that Jenny wanted to know about our sex life. How we did it, how different positions worked, etc. And every night after their work out, she wanted to "use" the spa. One of the nights Debs told Jenny that she didn't have to use the spa all the time, that there were all kinds of ways to masturbate, that some times it was just nice to relax and slowly rub one out. Jenny said she didn't think that would work for her as her husband reached down there sometimes, but it didn't do anything for her. When Debs asked her what he did she said "You know, he puts his finger in me and rubs in and out a few times. Then he climbs on and sticks it in me." She paused for a moment then continued, "I try to lick my fingers and get it wet before he gets in me, it helps". Debs said it was her turn to be floored. She just assumed that other men were as knowledgeable and thoughtful of their partners as I had been. As she listened to Jenny, she said it dawned on her that Bill had no more clue about what he was doing than Jenny did.

So, she showed Jenny how to masturbate. 

She told me when they got back from the gym, she went in and took a shower, and had Jenny do the same. While Jenny was in the shower, she spread a quilt on the living room floor and got out a bunch of pillows so they could relax. She didn't have to describe some things, I could imagine. Debs has gradually taken to spending a lot of time nude, particularly after a shower. We normally sleep nude, and she's gotten quite comfortable about just not putting anything on (except lingerie which she really doesn't expect to have on for long) after our bedtime showers, and often just puts her hair up in one of those Hindu head wrap things. Sometimes she wraps a towel around herself if it's cooler, but I'll be damned if I can do that. She's got those great tits that practically preclude anything from sticking, but one towel and a simple tuck, and she walks around for hours. (Me – one towel, sixteen attempts at tucking, finally get a safety pin – hell it doesn't matter. Two steps and there's Big Jim and the Twins flapping in the breeze. I gave up years ago, if anyone is around now either they're getting a show or they ain't looking.)

Debs told me that when Jenny got out of the shower, she didn't get dressed either. The two of them naked, went into the living room and settled down on the pillows. Once again as she described what they did, I found it too hot not whack one out myself. I told Debs what I was doing, and she just kept going.

"She was really shy at first, but I just told her to do what I do as I tell her to do, and she did. I told her that 'I usually start by slowly caressing my body, running my hands all over my belly and ass and tits, tweaking my nipples, imagining that it's my husbands hands or my imaginary lovers; that I begin to think of the fantasies that I've never done, or maybe something good that we have, and how I love to suck cock, how I imagine kneeling, hands tied behind my back, while Jim stands in front of me as I try and deep throat him; or I lie over him upside down, in a 69, sucking him down as he tongues me,' and as I stroked my nipples and belly and gradually worked my way down to my pussy, Jenny was doing the same thing. As I began to work my pussy, I reached in with my fingers and pulled some juices onto my clit, dipping and sliding, several times. Jenny was lying directly across from me and doing everything exactly as I was. 'And now I do what feels good, working my fingers around my clit, slowly teasing myself" as I moved slowly, showing her what I was doing, 'or I split my lips and expose my clit so I can rub it directly... or slicken it with my own juices' as I dipped my finger and pulled my juices onto my own clit."




Déjà Vu



Once again I could tell she was getting as big a kick out of telling me all this as I was in hearing it. She said "Oh God Jim, I think I'm going to cum again" and with quavering words she continued "I really wanted a long slow one as we'd used the spa for several nights, so I was working around my clit, slowly building myself up, but I could tell that Jenny was no longer following my lead. She had her cunny lips pulled back, her clit exposed and was dipping and rubbing, rubbing harder and harder. I really wanted a slow one (about that time I came myself) but watching Jenny get herself off furiously got me off that much quicker too, and just after she came I came myself."

I asked Debs if she had helped Jenny or if she did it all herself, and she said "Oh no – all herself, except when we use the spa. I can tell when she's almost there and the first two I tweaked her nipples just as she got there. The first time that I didn't she told me how much more intense it had been the times before so I try and do it every time now." 

In the meantime, even though I've already blown my load, I'm still hard as a rock and told Debs that I was really getting a kick out of this and couldn't wait to get back and fuck her silly on the weekend. She said she was hot and couldn't wait. "You know, if you had told me I could get this horny and masturbate so much while you were gone for just two weeks I never would have believed you." I thought the same thing, everyday at work it was all I could do to keep from telling some of my coworkers about the hot ass phone conversations I was having at night with my wife. Luckily, work was not being problem free, and it was only during down times that I thought of what was happening at home.

At last Friday came, and just as we thought everything had been ironed out, a major glitch developed in the main control system. What was to be an early flight home turned into a 24 hour marathon following the replacement of some parts and after another 24 hours of trouble free running we were off to the airport Sunday night – only to find all planes westbound were gone for the day. Sunday night at an airport hotel and about noon Monday we arrived back in LA.

Debs met me at the airport, having taken off from work. She picked me up in our pick-up, a four-wheel drive Ford. Although it was not jacked up like a crane tip-toeing through a swamp, it was higher than the average car. Of course the advantage of the raised vehicle was that very few looked down on us. Debs practically attacked me at the airport, but by the time we were going over the Sepulveda Pass into the valley, she had her lips wrapped around my cock. She'd slipped her panties off, and we finger fucked and sucked each other clear up until I had to get off the freeway. With the heavier surface traffic, I couldn't concentrate any more, so she sat up and slid up next to me. Which was perfect, I slipped my finger in her pussy, and got her off at least once before we got home. (As it was a stick – she had to shift for me as my shift hand was busy "shifting" her.) 

We spent the rest of the afternoon sucking and fucking and making up for lost time. Finally I was spent, she'd had at least two for my every one, and we fell asleep. I woke to her sucking me hard, and we did it again. Afterward we were laying there talking, and she again told me all about Jenny's sexual awakening. She told me how she and Jenny had gotten together every night after their workouts, and how Jenny said she'd tried to use what she was learning on her husband, but so far he just didn't seem to understand that sex was more than him getting off. She told me how Jenny was telling her everything, which meant that I was hearing all the details of Jenny and Bill's love life, which compared to us was for all practical purposes, non-existent.

Jenny and Debs had an appointment for the gym for Tuesday (Debs told Jenny that although they'd been having a lot of fun the last two weeks that on Monday she wasn't getting out of bed until Tuesday – which except to go to the bathroom – was about right. Tuesday morning I was starved, so we ate, and then we got up and had breakfast.) She said she wondered whether Jenny would want to come home and use the spa – as I was now home. I told Debs I hoped they would, I'd really like to get a gander at Jenny. Debs knew I thought she was the most beautiful woman we knew, and I'd commented many times about how I'd often seen she had hard nipples and would love to get a look (and or touch and suck...) at them sometime. Debs said she thought she might come over, but doubted she would get naked or "use" the jet with me there as she was just too innocent or introverted or shy or inhibited – whatever I wanted to call it. Although she had opened up quite a bit the last two weeks, it was just with her, not even her husband. 

Although Debs and I had a quite open marriage when it came to talking about or discussing other people and our fantasies, it had never included, until now, any other people in any way. And although Debs and Jenny had been getting off together, with the exception of Debs tweaking Jenny's nipples, it had really just been seeing the other masturbate. Debs proceeded to tell me she wasn't sure whether she would really be comfortable with me being there either. She said she thought she might be a little jealous. I assured her there was nothing to worry about, that I'd married the girl I wanted all the time, but that didn't keep me from recognizing and appreciating another's beauty. 

That night Debs and Jenny went to the gym while I went to the lighted driving range. When I got home, no girls. Finally, about two hours later, Debs came in alone. They'd been sitting in the car at the gym, talking, and hadn't realized how late it had gotten. I'd just begun to really get worried, Debs is never out that late without letting someone know where she is before hand. I'd just begun to get visions of the mad rapist having abducted her/them or something when she showed up.

Debs told me what they'd been talking about, which was sex of course. She said she'd told Jenny about how good it was to have me home again. Although she'd liked their episodes, that she loved my hard cock whether it was upside down or right side up, in her mouth or in her cunt; and that coming from fucking was so much better than masturbating. She told her that we had sucked and fucked until we fell asleep, and then did it again that morning. She said she'd told Jenny that she had told me all about the last few weeks, and that Jenny was appalled, that she had said she'd never be able to face me again. Debs told her that she'd been telling me about their "episodes" over the phone for the last two weeks anyway, and that I thought what they were doing was great. She told her that I felt sorry for her that she'd never had a sexual teacher, and that hopefully she'd be able to bring her husband around to being a better lover. Debs said that when she said that, Jenny had begun to cry. Jenny told Debs how she had tried to seduce her husband the night before. Knowing that we were probably going at it and she wasn't going to get a "spa" treatment, she figured she might as well try and get her husband involved. She said she'd taken a shower, and put on a sexy little nothing that she'd had tucked away for some romantic evening that had never happened. She said it had been a disaster, that although she'd tried to get Bill to take his time, all it did was get him hard faster, and left her sore and frustrated; that although she now knew that it was possible to get off she didn't have a clue how to get her husband to get her off. Debs told me she'd consoled her and talked about how she could get Bill to respond to her needs, but Jenny was about ready to give up. After 4 years of an empty marriage, having discovered her own needs, she wanted to have them fulfilled and Bill wasn't doing it.

Debs and I had to go back to work Wednesday, so I was up and at 'em early. As I got out of my shower I was surprised to find that Debs was already up. Normally she sleeps until I'm about ready to leave, as she doesn't need to leave until almost an hour later (in her own car of course – this was LA after all). As I was heading to my car Debs kissed me and said "Just think about this for today. Let me know what you think when you get home tonight." 

I stopped and waited, I could tell she was having trouble saying something. After a few moments she continued, "I've been awake a while and thinking." Again she paused, then blurted, "I think Bill needs a sex teacher and Jenny needs a sex teacher and I think that maybe we could do that for them and I know that we've got a great thing and Jenny needs a great thing and that unless someone helps them out that she won't get it and I'm not yet sure exactly what I mean by that but think about it." She kissed me again, and turned around and went back inside.

I was a little taken aback. Although I wasn't a prude, and had been with many women before, I had been with no one else since before we'd gotten married. Although I'd dreamed more than once about other women, when I got married I just accepted that at least until Debs died or we had a major falling out that I didn't anticipate, that I was a one woman man. And my woman, who had never so much as masturbated before I taught her how, was now saying that maybe it would be OK for us to have sex with others. I don't remember driving to work – just suddenly found myself sitting there in the car. I had totally mixed feelings; that I'd love to teach Jenny to make love, that I'd love to throw a lip lock on her nipples, that the thought of Debs getting it on with Bill gave me both a hard-on and a hollow sensation in my stomach like I'd just eaten lots of spicy salsa without any other food.

I went into work, trying not to think about what I thought my wife was proposing, but not really being able to concentrate too much. I had a stack of missed phone calls, sorted them into priorities and began answering the important ones immediately. After a couple of calls I had one that just said that Bill had called, asked me to call back, and left a number. I didn't know who that was, so it went into the less important stack, to be returned later. We had a little staff meeting at nine, and later when I got back I had another look at the remaining messages. The one from Bill was on top, and since I didn't know who or what this was about I called the number. A secretary answered, and when I asked for Bill, I got Bill. Oh – THAT Bill. Bill and Jenny Bill. What a coincidence – the same Bill that had kept me from thinking straight all morning long. The same Bill that my wife had told me just hours before that she would like to teach to fuck.

All these things flashed through my mind before my mouth said "Hi, Bill. What's up?"

Bill wanted to know if I was available for lunch. This was strange, although we had done things socially a few times, during work our professions didn't cross. I wondered what he had in mind, but a subtle query did no good. I said sure, and we agreed to one, so the noontime rush would be gone. 

I met Bill at the restaurant. He thanked me for coming, but gave no hint about what we were there to talk about until after we'd ordered lunch. "I understand you've been gone for a couple of weeks?" he offered. I responded with a brief rundown, how the trip had been a great success, everyone was congratulating the team today, but it hadn't been easy. I told him I was only supposed to be gone a week, and it actually extended into 16 days, but that I was back and didn't anticipate going out again for awhile. 

He said our wives had been "entertaining" each other quite a bit while I was gone. I told him that I knew that as I'd called and talked with Debs multiple times and heard how they'd been going to the gym together at least every other night if not more.

Bill just nodded, and said "At least every other night." He paused, I could tell he was about to say more, so as with Debs I just waited. "Jim, I think we've got a problem." (And for those of you that have been following this, there you have it – the "before" of my "déjà vu.")

The look on his face was a mixture of pain, apprehension, and probably fear. I was beginning to suspect what this was all about, but just encouraged him to continue. Over the course of the next few minutes, interfered with only by the arrival of our drinks and lunch, he told me his story.

"Debs and Jenny have been going to the gym together for quite some time, but the last couple of weeks when Jen took off I noticed she was gone for hours. Most of the time when she did get home I had already gone to bed. I mean, once or twice I'd have never noticed, but day after day, she was taking off to the gym and not coming back. Now I know she wasn't spending 3 or 4 hours working out, but she never said anything about it. When I mentioned that she'd been gone a long time, she just said that she and Debs had been relaxing and talking in the spa. When I asked her what about, she said 'Oh, just the usual – you know, girl talk.' Well, truthfully, one night I was a little horny – thought maybe she might want to play around when she got back, but once again she didn't come back. I waited until 10, and then thought I'd just swing by the gym and your house to see if they were there. I went by your house, and only saw Jen's car, so figured they must have taken Debs to the gym, so I went by the gym. I didn't see Debs car anywhere, so I went back to your place. When I went by the garage I could see the car inside through the window so I figured they must have been there and I just didn't realize it. I went up to the door and knocked but didn't get an answer. I rang the doorbell, and still no one answered. I remembered that Jen had said they'd been in the spa other nights so figured they might be there that night also. I walked around to the side yard and went through the front gate. When I got to the back gate, (which was only a short 3 footer) I just looked over the top at the spa." With this he paused, his face again having that funny "uh oh" look to it.

"Jim," he started again, "is Debs a Lesbian?" Inside I was grinning, knowing full well exactly what he was going to tell me, but outwardly I did my best to show surprise. "I don't think so, but that's sure a strange question. Why in the world would you ask such a thing?" 

"Because I think both Debs and Jenny are lesbians. When I looked over the fence, I could see Debs floating on her back in the spa. Jenny was sitting behind her, holding her head and they were having sex. Debs was naked, I could see her tits, and I think Jenny was too. She was behind her, holding her or something." He looked slightly better – now that he'd thrown up the pain in his stomach had subsided some.

"Wow, Bill. I don't know what to say." I shook my head. Somehow it didn't seem that I should be admitting what I knew at this time. "As far as I know, Debs isn't lesbian, but - I just don't know what to say." I thought about it a moment and then asked "What did you do?"

"Well, I didn't have a clue what to do. I stepped back away from the gate so they wouldn't see me, and caught my breath. When I looked again, Debs was moaning and tweaking her nipples. I hope you aren't offended or anything, but I've got to admit I've always thought Debs has a nice body but I just didn't expect to or want to see THAT.

So I turned around and went home. Except for Monday night when you got home, Jenny has been with Debs every night for a week." 

Our lunch came, but he wasn't eating much. "Monday night when you got home," he continued, "Jenny wanted to have sex. She's not much of a sexual person, so in some respects that is really strange in itself. That's the first time in a week and a half she's even gotten close to going to bed the same time I did. Truthfully, I can't remember a single time since we've been married that she has instigated sex. I always thought it would get better after we'd been doing it for a while, but it never has. And now I know why. Jenny is a lesbian and I don't know what to do about it."

I sat quietly for a while, just absorbing what he was telling me, wondering what I should or shouldn't tell him, waiting for him to continue. I could tell he was really broken up about what he'd just said, so I waited a little more for him to continue. He didn't, just sat there slowly picking at his food, the silence growing more and more awkward. I thought that if Debs had thrown her proposition out to me yesterday morning and I had squared things away with Debs now, I could probably use this as a lead in to our..... I suddenly realized that I wasn't think about "if" or "maybe" but was actually planning on how we could get together and let Debs teach him how to be a lover. All my unsure-ness about what Debs had told me to think about had been changed to solid approval by Bill's confession. In the next mental flash, I realized that the reciprocal was me teaching Jenny, and I began to fell a hard on growing. 

After a few awkward moments I said "Let's not jump to conclusions, Bill. I know it's hard to explain what's been happening, but somehow I can't believe that my Debs is a lesbian. In our years of marriage I've never suspected, or had a hint that Debs was lesbian. For it to show up just like that," I snapped my fingers, "I'm sorry, I just can't believe it. I'm not calling you a liar," I quickly added as I could see he was thinking I was, "It's just that there must be some other explanation. Until I talk with Debs I don't know what to say."

"You'll talk to Debs about it?" he asked, sounding like he didn't believe me. I said I would and when I asked him if he'd be talking to Jenny he said probably not, that Jenny just didn't talk about those kind of things, that he thought it was maybe a Korean cultural thing. I glanced at my watch, we both realized our lunch hour was over. I promised him I'd get back to him and back to work. I couldn't work, so I took the rest of the day off and went home.

I called Debs when I got home. I was a couple of hours early, so I knew she wouldn't expect me to be home. She worked in an office where it was impossible to have private conversations, so we often had one-sided risqué phone calls. When she answered I would say something like "Suck on your clit till you come?" or "You better work yourself up on the way home because I'm gonna bury my cock in you even before I kiss you hello" or any of the millions of things couples do when they talk dirty to each other. The fun part about her work is that no matter what I said, no matter how worked up she got, she couldn't do or say anything. Lowering your voice into a whisper is guaranteed to get everyone in the office to strain their ears to hear, so all she could say were things like "That sounds good Mr. Watson, I'll plan on that" or "Yes, I think we can arrange that for you Mr. Thomas" – anything but what she really wanted to say. After I teased her a bit, I told her I was home and horny and would be ready for her, so she could plan on a good fucking as soon as she got home. 

When she did get home a couple of hours later, I was ready and waiting, naked, just inside the door into the garage. As soon as the garage door was almost all the way down, I stepped out, sporting a hard on that I intended to use on her. Debs wore professional dresses to work, and looked like dynamite when she was dressed up. This night she surprised me though, as she got out of the car, she closed the door, turned around and leaned on the open window, flipped her dress up to show me she'd already shed her panties on the way home and was ready to fuck. Despite the fact that we both knew we were going to do it before we did anything else, her brazenness caught me so much that my mouth fell open and I began to laugh. She said "OK stud man, are you going to stand there and cackle or use that sword and get me off?" We both laughed but she wasn't kidding. I stepped forward into the garage and found her pussy literally dripping, and we both got off before we went inside. We did it right there, from behind, her standing up leaning on the car door.




Déjà Vu



Later after we'd settled down a bit, we were lying naked on the living room floor, having already fucked in the garage and again in the kitchen, where I'd set her on the kitchen table and she'd put her legs over my shoulders. As we cuddled on the floor I asked her about what she'd said that morning. She wanted to know if that is what had got me all worked up. I told her no, that was only part of it. I then told her about my luncheon with Bill, and how he had seen her and Jenny in the spa and that he said he'd seen her tits when she was tweaking her own nipples and that he had said he thought she was hot – everything. Debs gasped and covered herself when I told her Bill had seen her naked. I laughed at her and said "You're covering yourself, but he's not here, and at the same time you think you might want to teach him a thing or two about screwing?" She grinned and laughed back, and admitted that it was that he'd seen her without her knowing that made the difference. 

We talked about what she had proposed for quite a while. I admitted that when I'd been talking with Bill I had found myself forming plans on how to bring this about; and that despite the fact that it intrigued me and that especially I wanted to fuck Jenny, that the thought of her getting it on with Bill was scary. She agreed, saying that although she'd originally thought that it would be so great if I could teach Jenny everything that I had taught her, that she was afraid that I'd like her better and we might end up breaking up or that she'd be jealous. She said that even though after a while she'd decided that Bill needed fuck lessons as much as Jenny and that she'd have to be the one to do it – she wasn't quite sure she really wanted to fuck someone else.

We both admitted our hang-ups, and admitted that we were aroused both by the thought of getting it on with someone else, and the thought of our partner getting it on with someone else. After a while, we were getting nowhere, still no decision as to whether we were really going to do this or not, so I threw out the question of how. "Suppose", I told her, "that we do decide to go ahead and do this. Just how do we go about doing this? Tell Jenny and Bill that we want to give them fuck lessons? Seduce them individually? Go for a foursome? What do you think?"

"Well," Jenny answered, "I've been thinking about that too. Probably the way to start is with Jenny, she's already hanging around all the time, and I think I know how. I think we go to the gym, and when we come home we go into the spa just like we've been doing, only you'll be here. I don't know whether she'll get naked with you there, but I will and you can be naked, and I'll get you to hold me for the jet, and afterward I'll suggest that she can do it with you too. If she does, it gives us the opportunity to present our proposal, if not we suggest it anyway, it's just a little more awkward." I agreed that sounded plausible, but asked her how we were going to get Bill involved. "I haven't exactly figured that out yet, but if everything goes well with Jenny, perhaps she'll have an idea." I agreed that sounded like it was plausible also, so threw it back up to Debs, "well, in that case why don't you make arrangements, maybe tomorrow, or Friday? Friday might be better, then we don't have to get up on Saturday if we don't want."

"Really?". She asked.

"Yeah" I answered after a short time where I thought about what this really meant. "Yeah, I think we should go for it." 

She looked thoughtful and her questions showed she was really contemplating everything. "Should we use condoms?"

'I don't know." I hadn't thought about the practical. "I suppose we could, but is Jenny on the pill?"

"Yeah". 

"Then I guess we don't need to. Jenny and Bill haven't ever been with anyone else, and I haven't since before we met – so if I've got anything, you've already got it, and you don't so it seems like we are all clean and can't get pregnant, so I guess we do it the way nature intended?" I half told, half asked her. (For you young ones out there – remember this was over 20 years ago – we'd barely heard of AIDS – the standing joke at the time was "what's the difference between Herpes and Love? Herpes is forever." If presented the same opportunity now, it definitely wouldn't be bareback.)

"Do you want to watch?"

"Yeah, but we probably shouldn't. I imagine Bill will be a little self-conscious. You?"

"Maybe. I think it will be easier with Jenny than with Bill." She was quiet for a moment, then continued "I think I'd like that. If not at first, if this goes off I want to see you fuck Jenny. She's so beautiful and I want to see your cock in her. I want to see you suck her nipples." I noticed that Debs nipples were hard, so I caressed them, then slid my hand down to finger her a bit. I found her cunt dripping wet once again. "Does this turn you on, talking about doing it with someone else?"

Debs admitted it did, but there was something else. "And?" I prodded.

"I liked tweaking her nipples. When we were in the spa and I was holding her, when I tweaked her nipples what I really felt she needed was me to suck them. I just couldn't do it while I was holding her up, so I just tweaked them. It really turned me on to have her orgasm when I touched her nipples. Every time I was imagining what they would feel like to my tongue." I rolled over and kissed her, she reached down and pulled my cock to her and we fucked for a third time, right there in the middle of the living room floor. Later, after we'd showered, Debs called Jenny. She couldn't on Thursday, and the gym date for Friday was set up.

We talked again Thursday, but really didn't change any thoughts. Debs and Jenny were going to go through their regular routine: off to the gym, home to shower to get the sweat off, and "relax" in the spa. Although they'd been spa-ing it in the nude the last couple of weeks, in the past when I was around the girls had always worn suits. The only question was whether Jenny would shuck or wear a suit.

Friday did not go as planned as far as work. All hell broke loose, and I ended up working late. No matter how hard I tried to speed things up, it just wasn't going to happen (of course if I hadn't taken off early on Wednesday...). Not only had Debs gotten home by the time I got there, but she and Jenny were already off to the gym. It was actually late enough that I almost expected them to already be home from the gym . I went in and took a shower, and was drying off when they came in. Debs poked her head in the bathroom and said out loud "Hi Honey! You finally made it!", and then whispered "So far so good" so that only I could hear. I told her I'd only been home a few minutes, and she responded (for Jenny's benefit) "I think we're going to get into the spa. Are you up for joining us?"

"I don't see why not. Let me get something to eat and I'll come out and join you." I thought this actually gave us a more natural feel to the set-up, allowing them to get out there and get comfortable before I came out. 

I went into the kitchen and while I was making dinner for myself I mixed up a couple of wine coolers for the girls and set them by the back door. They both took a quick shower, and a short time later Debs called out "Are these for us?" as they were going out. I stepped to the door, and confirmed they were, and also checked out what was happening. Debs and Jenny both had suits on, and headed outdoors. I wasn't sure where the suits fit in to the plan, later Debs told me it was just too uncomfortable to throw the entire nudity thing out front. 

It was probably 20 minutes later that I stepped out and asked if they needed anything before I came in. They both needed another cooler, so I delivered the drinks and went to change clothes. I just put on my normal shorts rather than a swimsuit, which gave me the option of going in shorts or shucking it and going naked. Something about taking off a swimsuit versus taking off shorts didn't seem right, and I've gone into the spa in shorts before anyway. When I got out to the spa, I could see Debs suit in a pile, and the bra straps over Jenny's shoulders. The bubbles were on, so the water wasn't really clear, and the spa light was out. Typically we would use the bubbles and jets for a while and when we were just sitting and soaking we'd turn them off to just enjoy the heat and quiet. As I got near them, Debs said "I'm naked – but Jenny's not. You can suit yourself." 

I shrugged as if it didn't matter, and said to Jenny "Do you mind?" She answered somehow that I could do what I wanted, she wouldn't be offended. I said "We usually don't wear anything unless strangers are here, but you're not exactly a stranger anymore." I turned around, stepped out of my shorts, walked over to the table and placed them over the back of a chair then walked naked back over to the spa. Even though I wasn't hard, I'd been in warm clothes so I was hanging pretty good. I took my time sliding in and sitting down – nonchalantly facing Jenny when I could so she could get a good look at me, the idea being to bring her into accepting mixed nudity even though it wasn't her husband.

We sat and talked for a while, covering everything that had nothing to do with the moment – why I was late, how the gym had been, etc. After a while I turned and put my back to Debs so she could rub my shoulders, which she did. She made a comment about how tight I was. After a few minutes of her hand massage, I changed seats, moving across the spa between the two girls. I slid down so the shoulder massage jet was working the back of my neck, and used that as an intro.

"Debs tells me you've also become a fan of this jet." Despite the heat, Jenny blushed. It was as if I was on stage – once I started, the words just kept flowing. I don't remember everything we said in order but we talked for a long time. I gave her my history, how I'd been "seduced" by my lawn mowing customer and how she had taught me everything that I knew; how lovemaking had gotten better with every "practice"; how I'd taught everything I could to every lover I'd ever had; how to me perfect love making had nothing to do with me but everything to do with my lover; how there were times that I helped Debs orgasm but never had one myself; how sometimes she would blow me or fuck me and she'd never get off. Both ways because we were giving of ourselves to our partner knowing that in return they would give back, and that how most of the time it was a two way street – that I got off because I'd gotten Debs off and vice versa, but it all came around because I had a teacher, it was not something that I'd known instinctively. 

Debs threw in her story (some of which she'd previously shared with Jenny, so it was a re-iteration of what she'd heard at previous spa sessions) about how she had a domineering, ultra-conservative father that made sure she knew nothing about sex. She told how she'd never masturbated before she'd met me, how she'd thought sex was dirty and how when she first heard about a blow job she was repulsed. "How could anyone ever take a dirty thing like that in her mouth?" At this time she reached over and squeezed my cock – which was no longer soft – all for Jenny's benefit. I saw Jenny's eyes follow her arm through the bubbles, but I made no effort to hide or let her know I'd seen her look. Debs told Jenny how once I'd broken through, and she'd learned to relax, she'd been able to realize that her ideas were mistaken. With my help and encouragement she'd learned to recognize her own sexual feelings and wants, and to express them to me so I knew what to do. In turn, I told her what I wanted or needed, thereby enabling her to respond to my needs. 

Jenny commented how she had no sexual experience herself and how Bill hadn't either; how she'd begun to realize there was more to life and marriage and sex than she'd previously thought; how she found herself becoming intrigued with the thought of giving a blow job (duly noted at the time) but she didn't know if she could do it or if Bill would want it. After the conversation had started, Debs had slid around so she was sitting right next to me, and obviously was playing with my cock. Not stroking me, just holding it, something that Jenny was not missing.

Our drinks had run out quite some time before, so I asked if they wanted another. Both did, they handed me their glasses and I stood up, exposing my erect cock to Jenny for the first time. I set the glasses on the table momentarily and toweled off, then walked nude into the kitchen and made more drinks. In the meantime, Jenny and Debs continued talking during which Debs told Jenny that all this sex talk was making her horny. When I came back, I handed them the drinks and climbed back in myself. The conversation pretty much continued as before, until Debs rolled sideways toward me grabbed my cock again and said "I'm getting really horny. Either you're going to have to do me or help me with the jet. Or", she looked at Jenny, "I'll get Jen to help, she's getting pretty good at it. And I'll bet she can use one herself."

Always good with the one line, I responded instantly with "She'll need what, a fuck or a jet?"

Debs laughed, "Probably either, but I'll bet we can offer her a jet and she'll go for it."

Jenny didn't really say yeah or nay, but laughed also and told Debs she was "terrible".

I pulled Debs around so she was in my lap, and cupped her breasts. Jenny was just sitting there watching. I rolled both her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. "Ummmm" she said as her legs floated up. I slid her over to the spa jet and she lifted her legs over the side as we slid into position. Jenny had to move just a bit, but pretty much was sitting there absorbing everything. Debs continued to tell me how to move, and positioned herself so that she was getting what she wanted, continually giving feedback such as "Oh yeah, that's so good....That's it - Squeeze my nipples....Yeah, Harder.... Not so hard, gently now..... A little closer...yeah, that's it, that's it, Oh I'm going to come... I'm going to... Oh, OH, OH MY GOD! Her nipples were rock hard, I was twisting and pulling them as she's taught me in the past, but I had no doubt that it was because we were doing it in front of Jenny that she had such a violent orgasm. She shuddered and rocked, pulling her pussy away from the jet, and as she came down slightly from her O, slid over in front of it again and peaked a second time. I'd been paying attention to Debs but through my peripheral vision realized that Jen had her hand between her own legs. 

I slid back into the seat and Debs, still quivering, collapsed on my shoulder. She kissed me, and said "Oh my god – have I got to go to the bathroom." Jenny said she did too and stood up and climbed out of the spa. I could feel the pressure from the drinks myself, but they were ahead of me by several. Jen grabbed a towel and made a dash for the bathroom; Debs continued to come down from her O. As Jenny got out of earshot, Debs whispered, "Well – what do you think? We haven't scared her off yet... are we still a go?" I told her I thought so, we'd soon know.

Debs got up and headed to the bath herself, not bothering to put anything on. Jenny came back out and gathered the drink glasses, saying she'd make us more. She met Debs coming back from the bathroom and the two went in together to make more drinks. They were gone for quite a while – talking as they mixed more wine coolers. Later Debs told me that Jenny told her that she'd really gotten turned on watching us. When she asked her if she wanted a go at it herself she said she was still pretty self conscious, wasn't sure she could get naked in front of me, but she'd think about it.

They finally came back out. Debs wasn't quite so horny, the moment had passed but it didn't take long for the conversation to start up again. Jenny wanted to know how many other people we did this kind of thing with, and I told her no one – we'd never actually had an experience like this but I thought it kind of fun. She really didn't believe me but when she looked at Debs and she told her "Besides Jim – I've never had sex with anyone except you, and that wasn't really sex was it?" Jenny agreed it wasn't but sat silently for a while. I heard her say "wow" and shake her head in thought. I'd begun to fade while they were in getting drinks, but now that they were back, Debs grabbed my cock again and said "A hard man is SOOOOO good to find" and giggled. 

We talked little stuff for a while, and finally Jenny said "I don't want to be too nosy – but can I ask you how often you have sex?"

Debs told her that at this point we weren't hiding anything from her, that we probably averaged ever other day or so - sometimes more – sometimes less, sometimes multiple times at once, but often just once. But this week – we'd been making up for lost time. Jenny asked how many times we'd done it this week, and Debs said 'What – a dozen? Two? I don't know, and then proceeded with a count. Five times Monday, once Tuesday morning, once Tuesday night. Three times Wednesday, twice Thursday night. Twelve times this week. So far."

Next she wanted to know about oral sex. Debs asked her "Giving or receiving? Well that depends. Sometimes more often than intercourse, sometimes not much at all. When I first start my period, if Jim wants sex I'll often suck him off as I can get kind of messy, but after the initial flow has eased off that doesn't matter. Most of the time if we do it multiple times in a night I'll be ready for more before he is so I'll suck him to get him hard for the second or third time. Sometimes when he's horny in the morning and I don't want to get up I'll just give him a blow job. As for Jim?" she looked at me. 

"I love to eat pussy. My teacher Jennie taught me how to get her off and I've always loved the feel of a throbbing clit on my tongue. I'd swear at times when a woman goes off to my tongue I almost come with her. I often go down on Jenny to get her warmed up, but she's turned into such a little firecracker I don't have to warm her up - much. I'd say I go down on her to get her warmed up about half the time. Once in a while she'll just tells me she needs "an O" and ask me to eat her."

We finished our drinks again, and it was getting pretty late. Debs got up to fill the drinks again and while she was gone, I just outright asked Jenny "So, would you like to use the jet? I'll be glad to help you." 

She glanced at the jet, back at me, and said "Yes, but... I'm not so sure about getting naked." 

I nodded, understandingly. "I understand being bashful. Tell you what, just take your bottoms off and I'll help you that way. You'll be mostly underwater and won't be totally nude." I didn't tell her that I could see everything once she raised her hips to the jet, but it was the perception that was important.

She thought about it, and said "Yeah – I guess that will work." She reached into the water, and I could tell she slipped her bottoms down, lifting her feet to clear them. She pulled her bottoms up; set them on the side of the spa. I reached over and pulled her to me, my hard cock bumping against her backside. She didn't say anything, but I told her to relax and let her feet float. Just as Debs had, she slid her feet onto the edge, keeping her pubic area deep in the water. I told her to relax, and gradually she did, her bottom rising as she directed herself into the pulse of the jet. 

Debs returned, but Jenny had her eyes closed so she didn't see her. Debs raised an eyebrow – giving acknowledgement of the situation, then grinned and slid down into the water next to us. I told Jenny "talk to me. Tell me what's happening and I'll help all I can." 

She began to do as she'd seen us earlier, "A little closer, yeah, like that....that's real good, yeah.... Back a little...ok, right there.....that's good, it feels so good, I was so horny and it feels so good..." Debs reached forward and rubbed her hand on Jenny's belly, then up and across her breasts. "Yeah, that's good. That feels so good." Was she talking about the jet on her cunt or Debs hand's on her tits? I'm not sure which, but Debs continued to gently rub her belly and tits. After a few moments she reached under and released the clasp on Jenny's bra, allowing it to float up to her neck and exposing her bare breasts to me for the first time. They were slightly smaller than Debs, a firm 34B, with tiny dark aureole and upturned nipples that were at least a half inch long. Jenny continued to stroke her belly, rubbing across her hard nipples, but not concentrating on them. "Umm. So good. So good. In a little closer, I need it a little harder....I'm getting so close... I'm ......" Debs leaned forward and suddenly took the near nipple in her mouth, I could tell she sucked hard, and reached across and tweaked Jenny's opposite nipple at the same time. Jenny erupted into orgasm, twitching and bucking. Her legs fell off the edge; she was pushed back against me. Debs mouth came clear; she reached up with her other hand and tweaked both nipples at the same time. Jenny was quivering in my arms, my cock once again pushed against her beautiful backside. Debs was holding her nipples, and every once in a while she would roll them between her fingers. When she did, Jenny jerked like she'd been poked with a cattle prod.




Déjà Vu



Jenny sagged back against me into my arms. My cock was pinned against her back, she didn't move away. Debs had let go of her nipples; I looked over her shoulder admiring them. I had my hands around her middle, her breasts barely lying against my arms. Both girls had now cum, in my arms. The evening was progressing just about how Debs and I planned it.

After a few minutes Jenny said "Does it just keep getting better?" 

Debs grinned at her, nodded, and said "Always". 

Jenny let out a sigh, and said "I had no idea. It was good for two weeks, and this was better." She moved a little, I let her go, and she returned to her seat across the spa. I'd finally gotten her completely naked, yet hadn't so much as caressed her breasts. "Uh Oh" went through my mind, I'd figured once we got this far she'd be game for anything, but this was definitely a move away. 

Debs was ready though – and rescued the moment. She slid closer beside me and planted a big wet tongue in my mouth. I sucked her tongue as we kissed, and reached up to tweak her nipple. Her hand slid down, grabbed hold of my overstressed cock, and pulled up, as if to lift me out of the water. She pulled away from the kiss, looked over at Jenny and said "I really love this". As she continued to pull up, I had no choice but to rise out of the water. As I came up she said "Sit on the edge". I did, slightly forward, so my feet were resting on the bottom. Sliding in on her knees from the side (versus kneeling directly in front) she gave a good view to Jenny - as well as room to join if she chose. 

"The clue" she said, then stuck her tongue out and ran it from my balls clear up the vein to the head and continued "to a great blow job"... she went over the top, taking just the head in her mouth, sucking hard and then pulling off so there was a popping sound and her lips made a smacking sound ... "Is to know... what pleasures" ... she licked her tongue around and around the rim ... "your partner." She pursed her lips, sucked the soft spot where the shaft and head and vein all meet, rubbing it hard with her tongue. "Oral sex"... she ran her lips with the tongue slightly out, all the way down the shaft to my balls and back ..."is for your partner, but, if you do it well,"... she took the head in her mouth again, bobbed a couple of times and then pulled off again, and stopped looking at Jenny ..."it's repaid in kind, many times over." She slowly stroked the shaft, "Never give a blow job because he wants it, give a blow job because you want it. Here, you try." 

She had pulled off, was holding my cock pointed toward Jenny. Jenny shook her head, no, but had shifted closer. "I can't think of a greater pleasure than to pleasure my man" Debs said as she rubbed my cock up and down slowly a couple of strokes, then once again sucked the head into her mouth. "I like it as he gets more and more turned on the head gets bigger and harder" she ran her tongue around the rim, then flicked it across the opening, catching a bit of pre-cum, then rubbing around the hole with the tip of her tongue, gradually spreading the slippery pre-cum and her saliva all over the head of my cock. I was leaning back on my hands, practically out of the picture - except for my cock. 

I was definitely turned on – Debs describing and showing a "proper" blowjob was one of the most erotic moments of my life. Jenny was sitting on the seat, so she was too low to use her mouth but she finished her gradual slide up next to my leg, reached across with her other hand and put it around the shaft. Debs withdrew her own hand and put her mouth around the head one more time. Debs held just the head in her mouth for a few moments, and as Jenny didn't move, she pulled away from my cock and said "stroke it, slowly and firmly" and again took the head in her mouth. Her tongue was busy, swirling the head of my cock in her mouth, as Jenny attempted, inexpertly, to stroke my cock with her hand. 

Jenny sort of cooed, and said "it's so hard". 

"It's supposed to be, silly." She put her hand over Jenny's and as they stroked me together, she slid her mouth further and further over my cock, up and down with the rhythm of their hands. She pulled off with her mouth, slowing the hand stroke, and said "another key secret is to make it last. You want to bring him to the edge of coming, and keep him there, right-on-the-verge.....;" she popped the head into her mouth once more, then pivoted her mouth around my cock head, her tongue just on the rim. She'd taken me from just hard to practically out of control in just minutes. I was still sitting there leaning back, but the whole focus of my being was concentrating in the head of my cock. I had to concentrate not to lean forward, to grab their tits, to take her head and shove it down on my cock and say "DO IT NOW!" but I didn't. 

The more I tried not to peak, the more I tried to keep from "frow-ing up," the more intense my own orgasm was becoming. (Sometimes when we were playing and Debs would jack me off, or I'd come without being in her mouth, she used to say in a baby voice after I'd cum, "Oh – wook – I made him frow-up". It was kind of a little joke between us.) She said "here, try this" and moved her mouth to the side of my cock, rubbing all the way down to my balls and back." 

Jenny moved to her knees ("YES!" I thought) but then she didn't move any further, as if waiting for Debs to move. "Do it with me, just like this." Debs continued running her lips, with her tongue slightly protruding to provide wetness, up and down the side of my cock. "Do it with me" and slowly Jenny moved forward. She pursed her lips like she was going to kiss someone, then slid in from the other side, as if kissing Debs but with my cock in-between their lips. The two of them, noses slightly aside just like kissing, slipped up and down my cock with their tongues and lips. I was trying to hold back, but I was too far gone. "He's about to cum" Debs said, pulling back just enough to speak and then resuming. She reached for Jenny's hand, once more pulling it to the base of my cock and began to stroke with the movement of their mouths. The stroke of their combined hands and mouths was the final straw, and my camels back broke. I began spurting; the first shot arched into the air, landing in the water, subsequent bursts throbbed out, gradually diminishing.

Now it was my turn to collapse. I eased myself down, lying flat on my back. Jenny's and Debs hand holding my still erect penis into the air. Gently stroking, Jenny said "Squeeze at the bottom, release at the top. Squeeze at the bottom, release at the top - keep milking it till there's no more." The last of my semen was oozing out the hole – Debs took her thumb and smoothed it all over the head. 

Gradually they slowed and stopped. I was still rigid, and even though Debs took her hand away, Jenny continued to hold me.

"That wasn't too bad for a first time – do you think?" Jenny giggled self consciously and shook her head no.

"Ok, so just remember – you can't know what your partner likes until you try it. Just like the jet, keep asking and moving around differently. If one thing doesn't work – try something different. And when he's going down on you, tell him what feels good. Remember, what's great one time may be nothing special the next, and what does nothing one time may be just the thing the next. Just remember, you are you – and what's right for me isn't for you, so communicate – tell Jim what you want and he'll do it. "

I started to sit back up, Jenny let go of my cock, and I slid down into the water. Jenny did likewise, but Debs stood up and stepped out of the water.

"What do you think, will Bill be asleep?" Debs asked.

Jenny reacted with a start, crossing her arm across her breasts "Oh my god, Bill. What time is it?" I could tell she was more than just a little inebriated. Although I hadn't noticed it particularly before, she was pretty lit up.

"Almost one," Debs answered, glancing inside at the wall clock.

"Oh my god, Oh my god. I don't think I can drive home." Her eyes betrayed her, she was trying to think but the curveballs were coming too fast. 

"That's OK, you're staying here"

"But I can't, what about Bill?"

"It's all right, Jen. You're going to spend the weekend here with Jim and he's going to teach you how to make love. I'm going to go to your house and take care of Bill."

It took a little explaining before Debs finally got out the door. Jenny followed Debs through the house as she went in to get dressed and pick up her previously arranged change of clothes and toothbrush. She understandably wasn't sure about this at all. What would Bill think? What would her neighbors think? What if somebody found out? She didn't think she could have sex with me (as if what we had just done wasn't?) Finally Debs took Jenny by the shoulders, and looked her in the eye. "Jenny. Listen to me. We aren't asking you to do anything you don't want to do. If you want to leave you can. But – you've already experienced more in the last two weeks than you have in your ENTIRE marriage. And believe me, there is so much more. You need this, but especially Bill needs this. Jim and I love you guys, and we want to do this. I promise, if Bill kicks me out, I'll be back, but I don't think he will. Do you?

Jenny shook her head no. "Good. Then it's settled." I gave her a quick hug and kissed her goodbye, and asked her quietly if she was sure about this. She nodded and said "We'll call Sunday." She smiled at Jenny, said "Have fun" and left.

Jenny and I were alone for the first time. I could read her mind as it gradually caught up to what was happening. We were both still nude, and while I could survey her beautiful body without staring at her tits, I saw her gaze drop to my cock, still half-hard. It suddenly dawned on her that she was still naked, her arms twitched and started to rise to cover herself, then realized it was hopeless and way too late. Instead she gave a half grin and said "I think I'd like another wine cooler." 

We wandered back out to the spa to get the glasses, I went ahead and hit the off button on the jets and picked up the glasses to take back in. Jenny picked up her suit, began to straighten it up and I wondered if she was going to put it back on. I grabbed my own shorts as I walked by the chair, watching Jen through my peripheral vision. She really was going to put them on, when I saw her look at me, and her demeanor suddenly changed from "Oh my god – I'm naked – and about to have an affair" to "Oh what the hell" and she followed me back into the kitchen. I made her another cooler, (although I was pretty sure she may have wanted one but really didn't need one) and a glass of ice water for myself, and handed her the drink. 

She giggled. "You know I've never been naked in front of any man except Bill?" I told her I'd had my suspicions that was the case, but I hadn't known for sure. I turned to head for the bedroom, and stuck out my hand for her. She reached out and took it as she followed along. I stopped at the bathroom door, took her drink from her and placed it on counter, and took her into the bathroom. 

"Shampoo and soap are in order or we'll both be smelling like chlorine all night". She didn't say anything, just stood there as I adjusted the water. Once I had it just right, I stepped back to let her in, then followed her into the spray. I did as Jennie had done for me so many years ago, took the soap and lathering up my hands told her to relax that I was going to wash her. Starting at her feet, I made her lift them one at a time, then worked up her (I've got to interject into my own story here. Every time I go to describe Jenny, I want to put the word lovely – because she was exquisitely lovely – her legs, and feet and belly and breasts and ass and hair, and especially her face; so forgive me if it gets repetitive – but Jenny is still the single most beautiful woman I've ever been with in my life) lovely slender legs with soap in hand. I lathered her bottom and pubic area, made sure I touched both her anus and clitoris, slipping a finger between her lips to find her softness, lathered her back and front side, (her nipples were hard, which I later found out was the norm with her), did her arms and neck but stopped with her face so I wouldn't get soap in it yet. 

The shower was rinsing the soap off as fast as I was putting it on, however I soaped her up with my bare hands not to initially wash her, but to let her feel my hands touching every inch of her body, letting her know there were no bodily secrets between us. I then took a wash cloth, had her close her eyes, washed her face and had her rinse her face and then really did wash her whole body again with the washcloth, this time from top to bottom to get any chlorine off. Finally I had her turn and face the shower as I took the shampoo and washed her hair. She had medium length black hair, it reached past her shoulders when she let it down, but didn't quite reach her breasts. I massaged her scalp, rinsed her hair and then applied conditioner as Debs did. As I massaged her scalp, her head came back toward me further and further. "That feels so good," she cooed. Finally I was done, and as she turned around, I handed her the soap. 

She put the soap down and had me kneel so she could wash my hair, then she washed me from head to toe. She washed all around and I was beginning to wonder if she would before she finally soaped up my cock and balls. I was only semi-hard, sort of thick and long although not pointing to the sky, and she soaped it up just like every other part of my body. Finally ending with my feet, by the time she was done the soap had already rinsed off the rest of my body. On her knees in front of me, when she was done she leaned forward and kissed my cock, and giggled. When she stood up, I pulled her to me for the first time, bent my face to hers and kissed her. 

At first, just on the lips, but as she responded, her lips parted and I slipped my tongue forward, probing, testing, for a response. She opened her lips further, our tongues clashed and from a testing tentative kiss – suddenly it was pure passion – our tongues dueling, our mouths sucking, our hands fondling. My hands found her wonderful tits, her nipples long and hard. Her hands were once again on my cock. I crushed her against me, both of us lusting for each other. 

My teacher role was gone, I'd been with no other woman since Debs and I were married. Suddenly I was lusting for Jenny the way I'd lusted for Debs before our marriage – out of control. It was Jenny pushing me out of control, and she was just as out of control as I was. I pushed the door open with my foot, and stepped back. When I found the bathmat, I pulled Jenny to me again, picked her up, turned and set her down on the bathroom counter. My mouth was all over her, my hands leading the way. I kissed her neck and ears, sucked her nipples, while I stroked her belly, and stroked her nipples while I sucked her belly. My finger wet found the hard nub of her swollen clit. She moaned, spread her legs wider and pulled me closer. I relinquished my lip lock on her nipple and moved my tongue downward. I tongued her belly button, working my mouth lower. This wasn't slow, this was fast, this wasn't love making, this was passion. 

As hot as I was – Jenny was hotter. When my fingers found her love canal I knew she was ready, but my tongue wanted her clit - I wanted to taste her nectar. I nuzzled her pubes, and pushed her back to open her love nest to me, and began to kiss and taste her pussy. Her legs came over my shoulders as I dropped to my knees, my tongue parting her lips and finding her clit, hard behind its soft shelter. I flicked it with my tongue, rubbed up and down her slit and heard her moan "No more, no more, Now." I pulled her legs out of the way and stood, stepping forward, my cock head right at her pussy. I aimed and when I slid forward, there was no resistance. I began plunging in and out, Jenny's legs wrapped around my waist, and as I came forward she was pulling me with her legs. Fast and hard, and after just a few strokes, Jenny came. "Oh GOD, Oh GOD, OH OH OH OH OH OH OH." 

Jenny was a screamer. Every thrust brought another "OH," and suddenly I was coming too, burying my cock deep inside her, quaking from the tips of my toes. It was one of the most intense orgasms I've ever had. With each spasm I thrust hard, my pubic bone banging hers, every bottoming out eliciting another groan from Jenny.

I remained standing, barely, (probably only because the counter was there to help) with my cock buried deep in Jenny. She slowed, until her occasional "Oh My God's" were of the "gee I can't believe that just happened" variety instead of the "I'm out of control" that her orgasm had elicited. I was beginning to get a bit of a back ache from the position, and as I started to pull out, she said "Oh – don't. Stay. I want you in me" so I stayed. Finally my back was more than beginning to kill me, but I'd already gone soft and fell out at the same time I had to pull back and straighten up. 

The shower was still going. I reached out, helped her off the counter and we stepped back into the shower. I washed my cock and balls while she squatted and rinsed herself, and we got back out and dried off this time. I was done first, and told her I was going to go shut the lights off. I locked the doors, shut the lights off and when I got back into the bedroom, Jenny was already in bed. I shut the bathroom light off and when I bent over her I said "I thought you needed lessons in lovemaking." There was no response – Jenny was asleep. 



When I awoke in the morning, Jenny was still asleep, lying naked beside me. I pulled the sheet out of the way and admired her body for a few moments with my head propped up on one elbow. Lying on her back Jenny's breasts were firm pyramids of perfection. Her nipples were not erect, the first time I'd not seen them erect, but not flat either. Surrounded by quarter sized brown areola, her slightly pinker nipples would soon rise to my attentions, both directly and indirectly. I could tell she'd been sunbathing nude; her bikini tan lines were muted, her skin approaching an all over evenness, but still paler around her breasts and where her bottoms would be. 

Jenny's belly was flat and tight, as I examined her body I realized it was all firm. Her workouts with Debs showed. The faint hair below her belly button sloped toward her centerline, and as my eyes approached her legs I found the hair getting darker and longer. Her pubes were finely laid extensions of her body hair, a vee pointing to her center of being. I took my gaze back up her body. A wisp of hair extended over her forehead.

Her face was peaceful, her breathing soft and even. 



I reached over and placed my hand on her smooth belly, she didn't move. Leaning down, I placed my tongue on her nipple, swirled my tongue around it, then pulled back and gently blew across it evaporating my saliva. Her nipple grew to my teasing, but I didn't want to awaken her yet so I held back from the other. I went back and licked it again, repeating the operation several times. Moving softly so as not to rock the bed, I rolled off my side then walked to the end, and gently climbed on the bed between her legs. I carefully spread her legs slowly, one at a time, to give me access. I lay between her legs and kissed her mound. It was difficult to start, my chest flat on the bed, my head looking up at her to get at the right angle. I smelled her odor – slightly different than Debs. I kissed her hair, gradually spreading her lips and pubic hair with my tongue. 

Slowly I worked her pussy, seeking to arouse and awaken at the same time. Her leg shifted where I'd had my shoulder, and she opened a bit more. I could hear her breathing getting less even, her other leg shifted, giving me even more access as she was no longer asleep, not yet awake. I found her clit, and touched it with the flat of my tongue, letting it feel the warmth of my tongue but not yet stimulating it toward orgasm. I continued my licking, from her vagina to her clit, back and forth, trying to touch her with nothing but my tongue. She shifted again, stirred and one leg bent up. Every movement gave me better access, allowing me to gently wake her in the most exquisite fashion. I penetrated her with my tongue for the first time, tasting the same nectar I'd found the night before. 




Deja Vu



We lie together on the bed, the sheets tangled in our feet, her head resting on my shoulder, my finger tracing down and up the valley of her spine. 

I feel rested, as if I have just woken from a deep sleep. She sleeps beside me, her naked body heavy against mine. I feel her stir, murmur in her sleep, then her eyes open, slowly, so slowly, as if weighed down, closing, then struggling open again, unfocussed, looking nowhere.

I feel my heart beat quicken, an excitement building – anticipation, perhaps. She looks at me and smiles, contented. Her eyes brighten as I feel my pulse throb against where she is lying. I move my arm from under her. She lies back flat, looking up at me, her eyes hooded. I push myself on my elbow, then effortlessly onto my knees between her spread legs. 

As I watch, she puts the fingers of her hand into her mouth, all the time holding me with her eyes, smiling. As she sucks her fingers she lets her eyes close; she savours the taste of her fingers. It is beautifully sensuous. I glance down at my red but flaccid penis. It is beginning to show signs of life. I feel blood flowing in, my pulse speeding.

Her fingers emerge from her mouth. They are covered in a white stickiness, which she proceeds to smear in slow circles on her abdomen. The white stickiness adheres to her skin and forms itself into little pools and droplets. I glance down. My penis is swollen, redder, though still not fully erect. I encourage it by putting my hand around it. It feels tender to the touch, but I ignore that and start to stroke it firmly, almost roughly. 

She arches her back and, looking at my penis, cries out unintelligibly, repeating sounds that could be encouragement, could be pain, could be ecstasy.

I squeeze harder, stroke more vigorously, point the head of my penis at the flesh above her pubic hair. A shudder convulses me and the pools and droplets of white fluid leap from her skin into the eye of my penis. I feel spasms wrack my body as I force my penis to suck the fluid in. It jerks uncontrollably with the effort. It feels huge and hard in my hand. The girl moans and twists under me, her hooded eyes fixed on it.

When no more fluid remains and her skin is clean, I lean towards her arched body, stroking my penis more vigorously. She thrusts her pelvis up towards me. I want to continue stroking myself, but her wet lips draw me into her. I feel the warmth of her close around me. I feel as if I should be slowing my movements, but instead I feel more urgency, a frantic need to thrust into her, hard and fast. She must share the same need, for her body pushes up to meet me just as hard, just as fast. She urges me on in her strange guttural tones.

I slow a little. I can feel the ecstatic pleasure of the moment waning, but only slightly. The sensations in my penis seem a little less intense, but still exquisite. She wraps her legs around my waist, lightly at first, as if the effort were almost too much for her, then more and more tightly, as if trying to stop me escaping her. 

I continue to thrust, but though the desire is still there, the intensity is dissipating. I lean forward, kiss her ear, nibble her neck. She writhes and moans beneath me. Her legs release me. I kiss her and she thrusts her tongue hard between my lips.

But as if her passion were dying too, her thrusts also become less vigorous. We settle into a more gentle rhythm. Which is probably a good thing, because I can feel a slight reduction in the lubrication she is producing. 

I slow even more in the hope we'll both be more comfortable, but eventually I am forced to withdraw. Reluctantly, though, as witnessed by my penis's one or two attempts to re-enter.

Perhaps in the belief that my lips will stimulate her to produce more moisture, she grasps my head and bends me to the opening between her legs, crying out, shaking her head from side to side as if in contradiction to her actions. My mouth immediately covers her lips and I feel her pushing herself hard against me as my tongue flicks between her vagina and her clitoris.

Gradually her movements become calmer. I change to a teasing motion, letting the tip of my tongue trace the outside of her lips, touching her bud less and less frequently. It seems to relax her somewhat, though moans still come from deep within her body.

Eventually with a last cry and an almost involuntary grasp of my head, she lets me leave her. I look down at her. She smiles wantonly.

I lie beside her and kiss her ardently. I touch her between her legs and insert my finger between her lips, despite the fact I have some kind of cramp in my hand. She is still damp, enough for me to move my finger in and out of her freely anyway, despite the fact that her legs are no longer so wide apart.

This goes on for some time, but it isn't onerous – in fact, the cramp in my hand gradually disappears. At one point, she reaches down, miraculously retrieves her panties from within the tangled sheets and pulls them up her legs and into place – but accompanied by a look of desire and a lot of her strange speech. It seems an odd thing to want, to be just a little dressed, but I am willing. It is more uncomfortable fingering her inside her panties, but just as exciting. I keep it up for a good ten minutes.

Eventually however, it's too much even for me. I withdraw my hand and proceed to finger her through the damp cotton. Her moans become progressively less passionate. She even puts her hand on mine, whether to encourage or discourage me it's difficult to tell. 

Then, with my hand on her arm for support, she cleverly levers herself into a standing position beside the bed. Perhaps she wants to go. I sit on the edge of the bed facing her. She seems not to know her own mind, for she grabs my head between her hands as before and pulls it towards her, so that my mouth is once again on her crotch, though now with her panties over it. I dutifully place my mouth on the damp material, immediately bringing on loud moans.

But no matter how much I kiss and lick her, the cotton strangely becomes less damp instead of more so. Her moans also become less intense. Until she appears to tire of it, so much so that when she unexpectedly puts her hand out to the side, somehow her jeans rise into it from where they have been lying on the floor. In one swift movement she pulls them up her legs, zips them and buckles her belt. Despite this, I begin to feel stronger sensations in my groin.

Thinking that she is intending to dress completely and definitely leave this time, I lie back on the bed. But instead of putting her top on, she drops to her knees between my legs. I suddenly have the inescapable sensation that I am about to come. I look at my cock, hard, swollen and red on my belly, throbbing with expectation. She leans over to look at it, her hair brushing it lightly, exquisitely. Despite my fear that the slightest touch will tip me over the edge I nevertheless grasp her shoulders and slowly bring her face lower. She smiles up at me, licking her lips sexily. Her mouth opens, her eyes close, her lips enfold me. I am so close to coming, it is torture.

And yet it doesn't happen.

As she sucks and swirls her tongue round the head of my cock, I gradually feel the imminence of my orgasm recede. It is as if her lips and tongue are soothing it rather than stimulating it. 

After only a few minutes of her ministrations, I am calm. I am still enjoying the wetness and gentleness of her mouth, but they are no longer steering me towards orgasm.

Eventually her movements reduce to a teasing lick or two, her warm breath drifting up and down the length of my shaft as she smiles mischievously up at me. In another moment, she has reached to the floor, found my jeans and boxers, deftly put one inside the other and slid them up over my legs. Well. It's not the first time a woman has dressed herself after having sex with me, but it's the first time a woman has dressed me too. Instinctively I raise my hips and she pushes them all the way, zips me and buckles me.

She puts her hands on my shoulders and I rise into a sitting position, as if by some unseen magnetic force. I lean forward and kiss her breasts, at the same time cupping and squeezing them. She writhes and moans under my touch for a while, then we both stand. Her top flies into her hand from where it has been lying in a corner of my room and she puts it on. 

I feel an intensifying pain in the skin of my back, then her fingernails tracing the exact spots. When she stops, the pain immediately disappears as if it had never been. I feel a similar pain in my lower lip. I raise a finger; it has a smear of blood on it. I touch the finger to my throbbing lip, but when I remove the finger the blood has gone. She reaches up with her mouth as the pain intensifies and sinks her teeth into the cut. I cry out, but when she withdraws her teeth and kisses me only with her lips, the pain disappears.

She extends an arm and my t-shirt flies into it from another corner of the room. In a second she has wrestled it over my uplifted arms and onto my chest. She returns to kissing me, passionately, forcefully. She grasps me around the waist and we shuffle over to the door, locked in an embrace. I begin to feel that if she wants to go so much, she doesn't have to keep up this pretence of still wanting me.

By the door, she pushes me against the wall, kissing me and grabbing my crotch through the fabric of my jeans. Frankly, it's too little too late. As if sensing it, she backs off, but still moaning and with a desperate, almost hungry, look on her face. The door flies open onto her extended foot, then we are through it and out into the lobby.

She flings her arms around me and rubs her pelvis against me as I lock the door. As we walk to the station I almost have to drag her along behind me. To tell the truth I am finding this pretence at a reluctance to part a bit tiresome.

When we reach the station I give her a cursory kiss on the cheek – though she smiles very enthusiastically, perhaps with relief that our date is over. As she backs away towards her train, her arm raised in farewell, I am already opening my newspaper. Five minutes later, I'm walking away, trying to remember what she looked like.



Deja Vu



It was a matter of possessiveness.

Yeah, animalistic maybe. But I couldn't help myself. Not after being this close to you. So I took a chance.

Somehow I always liked being near you, before this thing turned into an obsession, I knew that fact. It wasn't unusual for me to stand close to you. What was unusual was for me to lean in and smell you. The smell of aftershave and that smell that just screamed at me to do more than just sit far away idly. Enough to get me intoxicated, make my stomach knot in anticipation.

"Erik, what are you doing?" Your voice calm. But your body tells another story. You're nervous. I could feel the uncertainty coming off of you in waves. Your eyes were trained over your shoulder at me, shock bright blue, curious but not angry.

"You smell good." It was a simple statement, one with implications far reaching. I put a hand on the bookshelf that you were looking at, almost pinning you but giving you an exit if you wanted it. But you weren't running, you were just standing there and that confused me more.

"Thanks," you reply. I take a chance and exhale close to your neck, letting the hot air of my breath travel across open skin. That pale skin that so contrasted with mine that taunted me in waking daydreams. Surprisingly you lean back, just enough to feel my growing excitement, giving me a smirk that held enough promise to make me nearly climax at that moment. Your eyes close and you inhale, reaching back to put a hand on my hip, enticing me to reach forward and wrap a hand around your waist. "You smell good too."

I was losing control and I knew it. My heart beat faster inside my chest and push back, your arm coming back to wrap around my neck, pulling me closer. "I know what you're thinking," you whisper. "How you want to rip off my clothes, here, now, in the evidence room, to hell with the consequences. And I know you've been thinking about it for a long time."

Your voice was like a siren song, luring me to the point of no return. If you told me no right then and there, I don't know if I could have listened. The hand on your waist slid up, under your shirt, feeling the soft skin and the light trail of belly hair that led to happier things. "Yeah. Something like that," I whisper back. I started to unbutton your shirt, saving the pants for last, my breathing deepening. Your back arches and I sigh, the friction causing some kind of sweet torture, my hands gripping tighter on you and the metal shelf.

"What's stopping you?" you tease and I feel a purr rumble in my chest, tossing the last of my restraint to the winds. I bent down, trailing the flat of my tongue across alabaster skin, tasting you, reveling in it. Your shirt finally ends up on the floor and I step back to take off my own, watching you turn around and stare at me with an innocent but not look. A smirk of my own crosses my face and I grab your belt buckle, pulling you close to me, our arousals meeting through the flimsy material. Without thinking, I kiss you, parting your lips with my tongue, lifting your body towards me so your leg can wrap around my waist. You tasted like smoke and honey, the feel of everything making me break the kiss to gasp for air, your lips swollen from my forcefulness.

"I'm sorry if I'm...rough," I apologize and you just laugh, leaning forward and grabbing my bottom lip between your teeth, tugging playfully. "Don't be sorry. Just do it," you snicker and I growled, undoing your belt with a sense of urgency, pulling off your pants and boxers in a rush, freeing your erection into my hand. Your head falls forward against my chest as I stroke you, feeling the hardness encased in velvet like skin pulse in time with your heart beat. Little gasps fall from your lips, making me harder and the hair stand up on the back of my neck. You, the wall, the unyielding wall, was letting me bend you to my will...

Hands went to my belt too, my pants falling to my ankles and I stepped out of them, feeling your fingers warp around my own erection, exploring. I moaned, precum flowing, covering your hand, your touch like lightning to my senses. "Oh God," I whisper, pulling away from you reluctantly to retrieve the tube of lotion in my pant pocket. As I unscrewed the top, I look up to see you smile, really smile. "Always prepared, huh?"

"Well, I have dry skin."

"Lucky you."

"I'm about to be even luckier," I quip, rubbing the lotion on my length, making sure it was well coated, watching your eyes dilate in the low light. "Turn around." Obligingly, you turn around and I start to prep you when you shake your head, turning to look back at me. "Just do it."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm fine; just go. Please."

When I start to ask one more time, you push back, sheathing me, stealing the breath from my body before I could speak. I rocked forward out of instinct, the heat of it all shocking me, breathing hard, your face contorting in a mix of pleasure/pain much like mine, sweat covering our bodies in a fine layer. Regaining some semblance of control, I thrusted slowly, burying my hands in your hair, molding my body to yours. One of my hands found yours and in a symbol of tenderness, you lace your fingers in mine, smiling a little. "Don't stop now."

I let my body take over, thrusting faster, the smack of skin on skin contact filling the room, your cries becoming audible as I felt the familiar boiling in my lower body. Hearing a low moaning sound, I was shocked to realize that it was me, my teeth bared against your neck, my world narrowing to you and my impending orgasm. I reached down to grab your erection, your eyes flying open as a new sensation hit you, stroking in time with my thrusts, your lungs fighting a battle to keep you breathing. "I want you to come," I breathed in your ear. "Now."

With a stifled cry, you explode on my hand and all over the evidence boxes, pulsing and squeezing inside and out. I felt my knees almost give out as I climaxed, filling you, putting my face against your back to muffle my scream as my world fell apart. In a haze, I felt warm hands lowering me to the floor, my body still throbbing. "Al--" I started but he shushed me, putting a hand over my eyes. "Sleep..." he implored.

"But I just want...to know one thing."

"What?"

"You were already...ready...how?"

Leaning over, you smile, bending close to my ear. "In a dream, everything is easy Erik."

Sitting up, I realize that I was asleep at my desk, panting, hard on raging, covered in sweat. 'A dream...it was a dream. Holy shit--'

"Hey Erik," a voice called and I looked up to see you standing there, dressed the same as in my dream, the same benign look even. "I need some help in the evidence room. Are you ok?"

I swallowed, rubbing my forehead. "Yeah," I ground out. "Just had a really...different dream."

A smile. That same smile of promise. "Sometimes dreams have hidden meaning...or desires. And maybe you shouldn't deny them." Before I could think of something coherent to say, you were walking away. "See you in 5 minutes in the evidence room. And maybe you'll feel a sense of...deja vu."



Deja Vu



I was 42 when my marriage fell apart. I'm Tom Sinclair, and I was a senior manager in a large government office in the north of England. After my wife told me she was leaving me for a man fifteen years her junior I felt pretty depressed. I no longer had any family in the area, and a lot of our mutual friends tended to avoid me, too embarrassed to look me in the eye, since they'd all known for months that she was shagging her fitness coach. It was partly my fault, with all the late evenings I'd been working; but that didn't make it any easier to take. I felt I had to get away, and a few weeks after she moved out I found a golden opportunity in the staff magazine.

A vacancy had come up in South London for a manager in my department. What made the idea particularly attractive was that it was the office where I'd had my first Civil Service job. I was 19 and at university at the time, and the post was something to do between the end of term and Christmas, to bring in a bit of extra cash before I spent a suffocating festive break back up north with my parents. Even though the job had lasted only a few weeks, it was a time I remembered fondly. Of course, more than 20 years on there wouldn't be anyone still at that office who knew me but, even so, it was in a nice part of London and it would get me away from my home town and the pitying looks I was getting from everyone I knew.

My regional manager was surprised I was applying for the post, as it was a bit of a comedown from the more senior position I held, but he supported my application and within days my transfer was confirmed. I travelled down south on a Thursday, found a flat to rent for a reasonable price on the Friday, and the following Monday I rolled into the new office. My new assistant manager, Sally, greeted me and gave me a quick tour of the office, introducing me to a couple of dozen mostly young staff whose names I had no chance of remembering at that point. We'd reached the last room in the building when I got the surprise of my life. As we entered, a raucous voice I remembered only too well rang out: "'Ello Tommy boy, I heard you was rejoining us."

I stared in disbelief -- I could scarcely credit that Karen Watts was still in the office, in fact still at the same desk in the same room where she'd worked with me 23 years earlier. When I was there as a Christmas temp, Karen had been the office character. She was one of those people it's impossible to ignore: a mass of big blonde locks (her Dynasty look, she called it), a salon-tanned face that was attractive without being pretty, knockers the size of watermelons, and gorgeous legs that she displayed with skirts rather shorter than a married mother twice my age might have been expected to wear. Her voice could have served as a coastal foghorn, she told bluer jokes than any of the men in the office, and her filthy laugh made the cawing of crows sound refined by comparison. 

Karen was over 60 now, the formerly peroxide hair was white, but just as big, as were the boobs that threatened to tumble out of her blouse. She giggled when she saw the stunned look on my face. "It's nice to see you too Tommy. I was thinking of finally takin' me pension, but I put it off when I heard you was comin' back to rock my boat." The three other staff members in the room sniggered, Sally tried to hide her smile, and I felt my face burning bright pink. I stammered something about it being great to see Karen again, and how surprised I was that she was still there, then scuttled off to my office, to the sound of her laugh billowing down the corridor.

I spent the rest of the morning with Sally profiling the area our office covered, going over stats and so on. When she excused herself for lunch I slumped back in my chair, dazed at the notion that Karen was still there. She was one rank more senior than when I had known her before, but I would have expected her to have moved on by now, or indeed to have retired. Staring into space, I thought back to that earlier time, when Duran Duran ruled the pop charts, and Thatcher and Reagan ruled the world. The reason for my shock was that it was thanks to Karen that my memories of working there before were so warm...

I had been given the desk directly opposite Karen, in a room with three other staff members: Ronnie, a sharp-suited 30-something who liked to boast about his sexual conquests, Ado, a quiet black guy, and Michelle, about my age but far more worldly, tall and skinny with dishwater hair, purple lips and huge bangle ear-rings that parrots could have perched on. I was a young lad from Yorkshire, in the big city only a few months, shy, and ready to blush at the drop of a hat. Because I was so quiet and nervous on my first day, Karen nicknamed me 'Smiler', and amused herself and the others by mercilessly winding me up. On my second day she came into work wearing a vest that did little to conceal her huge tits, and I couldn't help glancing up at her every few minutes. I realised she'd caught me at it when, every time I looked, she yawned and stretched, thrusting her boobs out like a ship's figurehead.

Mid-morning, Karen sashayed over to my desk, big hips swaying, and parked her generous bum on the corner of it. Her black-stockinged leg was inches from me -- I could actually see the bare flesh of her thigh under her skirt -- and her boobs were directly in my eye line. The other three all subtly sat back in their chairs, grinning in anticipation of the entertainment to come. Casually swinging her leg, Karen asked, "So Tommy boy, anyone had a nibble at your cherry yet?" 

As Ronnie and Michelle almost exploded trying to control their snorts of laughter, the fierce red glow that leapt onto my cheeks told Karen the answer to that one. Grinning wickedly, she leaned closer to me; her half-exposed knockers were only a tongue's length from my face, and her sickly sweet perfume was overpowering. I felt as if I was shrivelling up in embarrassment as she glanced down at my lap and cooed, "Ooh, you're being a bit selfish keeping that tent pole to yourself sweetheart." That was it for Ronnie -- he collapsed on his desk, tears rolling down his cheeks. Even Ado had a broad grin. Karen moved her face so close to me that her lips brushed my ear and, in a stage whisper that was probably heard three streets away, murmured, "You wanna take young Michelle there down the pub. A couple of Bacardi and Cokes, she'll soon show you what that's for."

As the men collapsed in helpless mirth, Michelle shrieked with laughter and screamed "Karen!", throwing a pencil at her. When she thought Karen wasn't looking though, Michelle gave me a toothy grin and a lascivious wink, rolling her tongue suggestively around her lips. I couldn't look at any of them the rest of the day without turning scarlet, and at 4.30 Carl Lewis wouldn't have beaten me in my sprint out of the door for the bus to my digs. It can't be true that wanking makes you blind, otherwise I'd have needed a guide dog by the time I got out of bed the next morning!

When she wasn't taking the piss out of me, Karen was genuinely friendly and helpful, and I quickly warmed to her. Dealing with her helped me to build up my general self-confidence, and after a couple of weeks I was capable of answering back when she tried to embarrass me, and our relationship became almost flirty. Michelle, on the other hand, used to roll her eyes and tut as if it was the most pathetic thing she'd ever seen, and started to snap at me. At the time I didn't really think about why.

My last week in the office coincided with the Christmas party. The party was due to start at five o'clock on the Friday, but the booze started flowing during the morning. At one point Karen wandered over to my desk, a wine glass in her hand and a cheeky grin on her face. My chair had wheels, and she pulled it out from under my desk and sat on my lap with an arm round my neck, pushing her boobs into my face. "You feeling Christmassy, Tommy boy?" she grinned, while our colleagues watched with amusement. She started to grind her bum firmly into my groin, causing an instant erection. I realised the others couldn't see what was happening below desk level and, with unusual boldness, I placed a hand on Karen's stocking-clad knee. She didn't even flinch, just kept grinning and grinding. Nervously I crept my hand slowly under her skirt and up her leg. My fingers actually rested on her bare thigh before she leapt off me and, chortling, swayed back to her own desk.

By mid-afternoon everyone other than me had pretty much stopped working. I was alone in our room doing some filing when I became aware of a cloying scent, and looked up to see Michele standing close to me; very close. She gave me a smile, and said, "I'm sorry I've been ratty with you the last couple of weeks Tom. I've been having a bad time with my boyfriend, but we've split up now. Later on you can get me those Bacardi and Cokes if you like. You know, the ones Karen mentioned that time." I gasped as I felt her hand rub firmly across my trouser fly. Then she turned away and walked out of the room, grinning back at me over her shoulder. In all honesty I really didn't fancy Michelle; but despite Karen's prick teasing it seemed the only offer on the table, and I resolved that before the day was out I would have finally lost my cherry.

At the party I did the rounds of my colleagues, saying my farewells and getting a few hugs and handshakes. Mid-evening, after a couple of drinks, I made my way to the toilet. On the way back an arm reached out of an alcove and grabbed my tie, and Karen pulled me into the small space with her. It was so small that our bodies were pressed together. Breathing wine fumes into my face, she giggled and started to rub her crotch against mine. Then she whispered, "I know Michelle's got plans to give you one tonight. Be honest, Tommy -- wouldn't you rather get your first fuck from an experienced older woman?" Suddenly too nervous to speak, I nodded. I hesitantly cupped a hand over her breast, half of which was exposed by her low-cut dress, and stroked the bare flesh. Suddenly, with a roar of laughter she pushed me away and crowed, "Yeah, I'll bet you would, you randy little sod." Then she walked back towards the party. Just before she entered the room she glanced back at me and said, quietly, "Well, let's see how the evening goes, shall we?"

After a couple of hours a dozen or so of us decided to head for the pub. The place was packed, but by sheer weight of numbers we bullied our way to a group of corner tables. Karen disappeared to the loo, and when she returned she had found a hair band from somewhere and lodged a sprig of mistletoes in it, hanging over her head. There was great hilarity as she made her way around the blokes snogging and groping each in turn. Finally she squeezed herself onto the bench where I was sitting, right next to me. "Okay Tommy, your turn." Before I could react she'd mashed her lips to mine, her hand pressing on the back of my head. Her tongue thrust into my mouth as I found myself locked in the sexiest kiss I'd ever experienced. On my other side, I heard Michelle make a disgusted sound.

We had a good time in the pub, but gradually the numbers dwindled. Towards the end of the evening I was still sitting with one woman on either side of me, both of them pretty drunk. Michelle was draped across my right shoulder, her tongue stuck in my ear; Karen was on my left, blowing in my other ear, her fingers stroking my inner thigh inches from my straining cock and her boobs pressed firmly against my arm. The colleagues who remained, all men, found the situation hilarious. To say I felt hot and uncomfortable was something of an understatement. Michelle was clearly less than happy with the situation too, and she leaned across me and said pointedly, "Karen, isn't it time you headed off home? You know, to your husband, the one you married?"

Karen replied, "Nah, I've told Mickey to do the nightshift this week, so I can bring me toyboy home with me", and doubled up with laughter. Michelle stared at her furiously, then started nibbling my earlobe and tugging on my arm, trying to drag me out of her rival's clutches. I could scarcely believe two women seemed to be fighting over me. Once Karen recovered from her laughing fit she started licking my other ear. One hand was still at the top of my leg, and she slid the other between my shirt buttons and started caressing my bare chest with her fingers. Making sure Michelle heard, she giggled, "Blimey Tommy, are you this hairy all over?"

As long, blood red fingernails began to tweak my nipple I couldn't help myself; I started to turn towards her, presenting my back to Michelle as Karen's lips slipped from my ear and across my cheek, towards my mouth. Michelle's reaction was instant: with a scream of fury she leapt to her feet and snarled, "Why don't you fuck off, you disgusting, evil old bitch?" Karen's only reaction was to slide her tongue into the corner of my mouth and start stroking it around inside, her eyes fixed on Michelle. With a wail of frustration, Michelle hurtled towards the door and out into the night.

I felt bad about Michelle. After all, I was never likely to see her again, and I hadn't wanted to hurt her. I started to get up and go after her, but Karen held me back. Nuzzling her nose into my cheek, she whispered, "Leave her love. You don't need her tonight, I promise." Then she sat back and, more brightly, said, "Well young Tommy, are you goin' to be a gentleman and walk a lady to her cab?" Dragging me after her, Karen made her way to the door, kissing and groping the remaining stragglers from our party. 

The night air outside was frigid compared to the hot, beery atmosphere in the pub, and a light drizzle was falling. Thankfully we had to wait only a few seconds for a taxi, and Karen clambered in, pulling me after her. As the cab set off I suddenly felt very nervous at being with Karen. After all, she was a real man-eater twice my age. She immediately snuggled up to me and started kissing me again, her tongue slipping between my lips and stroking along my teeth. At the same time, her hand dropped into my lap and started stroking my rampant cock through my trousers. 

Cautiously, I placed a hand on one of Karen's boobs. She arched her back, pressing it more firmly into my grasp. Emboldened by that, I reached down the neck of her dress and scooped my hand around her tit, inside her bra, feeling her spongy nipple pressing against my palm. She moaned appreciatively, and pushed her tongue deeper into my mouth. I sensed the cabbie watching us in his rear view mirror, but by then I couldn't have cared less if we'd been in the middle of Piccadilly Circus in the rush hour. Deciding to go for broke, I eased the shoulder straps of Karen's dress and bra down her arm, exposing her tit, and, pulling away from her mouth, applied my lips to her nipple. She hugged me to her and chuckled, "You dirty little fucker."

I felt as if I was in a dream, sitting in the back of a taxi with a married woman's boob in my mouth, her hand rubbing my dick, while the driver watched us at it. Totally brazen by that point, I slipped my hand up Karen's dress and curled my fingers around the silky knickers which covered her crotch. I was just trying to worm a finger inside them when she gripped my wrist and giggled, "Easy tiger, I don't want you popping your cork before I even get you home." 

How I didn't cum in my pants in that cab I have no idea; I can only imagine that the amount of booze I'd drunk dulled my senses just enough to allow me to hold off. When we reached Karen's street, she half fell out of the car, clutching her coat round her to hide her exposed breast, while I fumbled out money for the driver. He gave me a grin and a wink, and muttered, "All the best son -- give 'er one for me while you're at it." We tottered up the garden path, Karen unlocked the door of her tiny house, and there I was -- minutes from sex for the first time, with a gorgeous, erotic, outrageous woman not much younger than my mother. After weeks of fantasising about it, it was actually, really, going to happen.

Almost shyly, Karen took my hand and led me up a narrow staircase to her bedroom. There she stood before me, her hands on my shoulders, and smiled at me. She asked softly, "So Tom, are you really still a virgin?" I swallowed nervously and nodded. With surprising tenderness, she stroked my fringe off my forehead, and said, "God, I don't think I've ever had a virgin before. Okay sweetheart, just relax." Never taking her eyes off mine, she slowly unbuttoned my shirt and peeled it off me. She trailed her fingernails through my chest hair, then dropped her hands to my waist. Efficiently undoing my belt and fly, she knelt in front of me and ease the trousers and my underpants down to my ankles. Karen gently pressed her hand to my belly and, my knees giving way, I sank into a sitting position on the bed. She winked at me and whispered, "All right darlin', 'ere we go." 

I watched in amazement as her blonde head dipped towards me and her big sensuous lips closed over the tip of my cock. Her mouth slipped down my length, her tongue stroking my flesh, and I shuddered as the most glorious feelings of pleasure radiated through my loins. Karen's forearms rested on my thighs, and one hand cupped my balls while the other wrapped firmly round the stem of my prick. After probably no more than a minute I felt my muscles spasming, then I erupted a fountain of jizz into her mouth. Karen kept licking and sucking at me until she had milked every last drop of my cum from me. Feeling guilty that I hadn't managed to last longer I started to apologise, but she quieted me. "That's all right honey, I knew that'd be a quickie. Just means you'll keep going longer when we really get down to it."

It was a chilly night and, almost like a loving mother, Karen eased me under the bedclothes before switching off the light and quickly stripping off her clothes. In the moonlight through her bedroom window her magnificent body looked sliver-blue: I gazed at her heavy breasts, her nipples big enough to cause their own shadows on her skin, her slim waist, her wide hips and her plump thighs, surprised to see that her pubic area was completely shaved of hair. She scuttled across the room to join me in the bed, and cuddled me to her. Holding my first naked woman was an incredible experience. Her cheek rubbed against mine, her boobs squashed against my chest, and her thighs intertwined with mine. She was cold and I squeezed her tightly, rubbing my hands up and down her back. One of my hands dropped to her fleshy bum, and I began kneading it, like dough. 

Karen rolled on top of me and we kissed tenderly, our tongues playing with each other like dogs frolicking together in the park. Then she moved back to my side and gently pushed my head down to her chest. Again I suckled on her breasts, licking my way between them as she sighed and stroked my hair. My hand eased down her body and between her legs. I was surprised how easily my fingers slipped inside her pussy. It felt incredible, hot, wet and clinging, and I began to push three fingers in and out of her. She groaned at that and husked, "Fuck Tom, you're good at this. If you're ready, darlin', I need you to fuck me now."

God, was I ready. I rolled her onto her back and moved my body between her legs. She grabbed my buttocks in a vice-like grip, pulled upwards with her hands, and for the first time my cock entered a woman's vagina. I lay still for a moment, just enjoying the wonderful feeling around my prick, then as Karen pulled at me again I started to fuck her, with short, fast stabs. She put a hand on my shoulder and whispered, "Easy baby, take it a bit slower." Desperate to please her I changed to long, slow strokes, which clearly had the desired effect. She started to rub her legs up and down mine, and express her enjoyment in words. "Ohhh yeah, that's it, fuck, fuck, yeah baby, that's so gooood." She'd been right about sucking me off before, I was able to keep going for a while, even after Karen whimpered and I felt her pussy tighten around me, and a fresh flood of juice surge from her. She continued to grip and caress my bum, and as I got closer to cumming I gradually increased my speed, finally releasing a river of spunk into her as she sighed happily.




Deja Vu



I relaxed onto the bed beside her, ecstatic at having lost my virginity, especially to such an incredibly sexual woman. She hugged me to her and kissed my cheek. "Thanks Tommy, that was lovely. You've got a beautiful big cock, and I love your furry body." I spent the entire night in Karen's bed. We did a lot of kissing and fondling, and the second time we made love she rode me. She supported her weight on her hands either side of me on the bed, and I gripped her hips as she pumped up and down on me and I drove back up at her. She leaned her head towards me, tickling my chest with her hair, and thrust her tongue into my mouth at the exact moment I came. That time she outlasted me and continued to fuck me for a couple of minutes before, this time with a roar, she climaxed. Then we slept, wrapped in each other's arms.

In the grey light of dawn, Karen woke me and told me her old man would soon be home. In the cold of the bedroom, my flesh goose-pimpled, I dressed slowly, not taking my eyes off my beautiful mature lover, not wanting to leave her. She saw me to the door, dressed only in a bathrobe, and we kissed deeply. She ran her fingers through my hair, and whispered, "You're a lovely bloke, Tommy Sinclair. You're gonna keep some lady very satisfied one day. Take care, and don't be a stranger, all right darlin'? Give us a call when you get back to London after Christmas."

I really intended to contact Karen again, but in the first week of the new term I found a girlfriend at university. Anyway, with Karen being married it just didn't seem right somehow, and I never got round to it. I'd often wondered over the years how she was, and whether she even remembered me. And now, here I was, 23 years on, back in the same old office, working with her again. Naturally we saw each other around the office during that first week, but there was no point when we were ever alone together. I could have called her into my office for a chat, of course, but I thought it was probably best to leave old passions unstirred. 

On the Friday I was still in my office at well past five in the evening. After all, I wanted to look at our performance stats for the week, and all I had to go back to was my digs and a quiet weekend in a huge city where I didn't really know anyone yet. The sounds of staff working had long since died outside my door when I was surprised by a knock. A moment later the door swung open and Karen leaned against the doorframe. I gave her a smile, and said, "Hi Karen, I'm surprised you're still here at this time. What can I do for you?"

She replied, "Nothing really Tom, I just wanted to catch up, see how your first week with us had gone. I er, I wondered if you fancied a drink to wind down before you go home?" 

I stared at her, not sure what to read into her invitation. I tried to inject a laugh into my voice as I said, "Won't your Mickey be expecting you home to cook his tea for him?"

She eased herself off the doorframe and moved towards me. "Nah, Mickey and I split up years ago. You look tired Tom. I reckon you could use one of my special massages." Before I could react she was behind me, her hands on my shoulders. To my astonishment, at her first touch my cock immediately sprang to attention. 

As Karen kneaded my neck and shoulders I had to admit that her strong hands were easing my muscles, even as they were having quite the opposite effect in my groin area. I slowly rolled my head, enjoying the warmth spreading through my upper body. She murmured, "That's it Tommy, you just relax." I realised her mouth was very close to my ear. She continued, "You know, I've thought about you a lot down the years. I was sad when you never called me. I really liked you -- maybe a bit more than I let on at the time. And now we're both single people. How long is it since you had a bit of nookie Tommy?" My eyes fluttered shut as her hands moved from my shoulders and stroked down onto my chest. "I'll bet it's not as long as me -- it's three years since I had a bloke."

A thought occurred to me. "Do the rest of the staff know about...what happened between us?"

I heard a throaty chuckle. "Nah, don't worry Tommy it's our little secret. I told them we were all after you but another girl in the office pulled you that Christmas." For a fleeting moment I wondered what had become of Michelle, but the thought vanished as I felt my shirt being unbuttoned, and warm fingers mingling in my chest hair. "Mmm, you're even furrier than you used to be."

As Karen stroked a finger across my nipple, and pressed her ample boobs into my neck, I murmured, "Karen we can't do this here, not in the office."

She responded with another chuckle. "Don't worry babe, everyone else has gone and the front door's locked. I've been imagining doin' this all week, right here." With that, she swung my chair round and dropped to her knees, her hands moving to my trousers. Within moments her mouth was on me, and any concerns I had about us being disturbed melted away as her sweet tongue caressed the underside of my knob. Without taking her lips off me she mumbled, "Jesus, you're even bigger than I remembered."

I let her suck me for maybe a minute then started to pull her to her feet. "That's enough Karen, I want to fuck you."

She chuckled. "Oh Christ, me too Tommy." Without a moment's hesitation she reached under her skirt and whipped off her pants -- actually a silver thong made for a woman a third her age, but that was Karen. Taking her shoulders I gently turned her back to me and pushed her forward over my desk. She grinned at me over her shoulder. "Oh yes, I like this." As she pushed papers and pens from the desk to the floor I lifted her skirt to expose her magnificent, fleshy bum. She might have been old enough to draw her retirement pension, but Karen was still a highly desirable woman with a gorgeous body. Easing her thighs wider apart I slipped my hand between them. She gasped and bucked as I fucked her with two fingers and pressed a third to her clit.

Karen's pussy was sopping wet, and I wanted to taste her. I dropped to my knees and ran my tongue the length of her slit. She pushed back onto my face and gasped "Fuckkkhhh!" I lapped at her, loving her tangy taste, while still twirling my fingers around inside her. Very soon she breathed, "No more Tommy, fuck me now, please." I was only too happy to oblige. Grasping her hips, I drove my cock into her with every ounce of my strength, and pounded at her as she gasped and gurgled with delight, reaching one arm back to caress my hip and buttock as I screwed her. We both came at about the same moment, a gasping, sobbing, shattering conflagration of lust. Exhausted I lay gently on Karen's back, her soft bum pressing against my thighs, and reached my hands around her to hold her breasts outside her blouse. She looked back at me and whispered, "Welcome home darlin'."

Karen took her retirement package about a week after that. We held a huge party for her, and it seemed as if half the department's staff south of the Thames were there to wish her well, along with a few retired colleagues from my earlier time in the office. By then I had already given up my rented flat and moved in with Karen, to the same little terraced cottage where we'd first made love. 

I've settled in really well to my new job. The staff are great, all cheerful and dedicated, and I love the area of London where we're based. I rarely work late anymore though. I can't wait to rush home to my gorgeous, insatiable lover, and spend time making up for all those lost years. 



Deja-Vu



Brittany Rogers peered through the store's broad front windows, carefully inspecting each inch of the nearly deserted parking lot. Satisfied, she unlocked the door, set the alarm and slipped outside in the required thirty seconds. She locked both top and bottom locks and scurried towards her car. As she went, she nervously scanned the area, her head swiveling. Twice she turned and walked backwards a few steps to check behind her.

Why had she stayed so late, she berated herself silently. Trying to finish her sales reports, which darn well would have waited until the morning was her admittedly foolish answer. She had become absorbed and had not noticed how quickly time had passed. She had planned to not only be out of the office before dark, but to be home. Not walking through the deserted parking lot of a deserted strip mall. She wished she had opened her office across town where the big 24/7 store assured that there was always someone else around, even if the rent would have been triple what she paid here.

How could she have lost track of time on, of all nights, THIS night? She shivered, clutched her keys and looked around even more, peering into darkened corners where the alleys between the sections of stores loomed as black holes. This was Halloween. For ten years Halloween night had meant death for a woman in this city. 

The police were out in force, she knew. But they had been for the last two years, ever since some enterprising reporter had put everything together and revealed that for the previous eight years a lone woman had been found stabbed to death on the eve of All Saints Day. Each murder had been determined to have taken place before midnight. No details had been made public, but rumors painted a lurid picture of disembowelment and mutilation that reportedly had shocked even the hardened detectives who investigated the crimes. The police had mustered every available officer since then, but had not succeeded in stopping the killings. 

Brittany shivered again. There was her car. Only ten steps away. The hair on the back of her neck seemed to stand up and she broke into a run. Reaching her car, she fumbled with the keys. In her nervousness she dropped them on her first attempt to unlock her car. The second was no more successful, as she tried to insert the key in the lock upside-down. Finally she heard the reassuring "click" of the lock and sighed.

It was at that very moment when she felt safe, that she heard the sound behind her. It was a sound that froze the blood in her veins. It was a deep chuckle and she sensed the menace even as she jerked her head over her shoulder and looked.

All she could see was an outline. The form was so dark it blended into the shadows as though the lights of the parking light turned away from it. Straining, she caught a glimpse of eyes under a hat brim. And Hell was in those eyes as surely as it was in the reflection of the light off the long, gleaming knife that appeared.

Brittany tried to move. She willed her fingers to open the car door, her legs to run, her arms to lift in hopeless protection of her body. She stood like a statue, as though the glance of the figure had turned her to stone. All she could do was whimper deep in her throat as he approached. He was within three steps of her when somehow she regained the use of one part of her body and screamed at the top of her lungs.

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

Officer Christina Windser smothered a yawn and snuck a look at the time. Nearly 11:30. She had been on duty over ten hours now, with only a hasty stop for a sandwich and a soft drink for a break. Her shift had ended two hours ago but, like almost all her fellow shift mates, she had remained on duty. The Halloween killer had not struck so far. Perhaps the saturation effort of the department would pay off tonight. More officers were on foot patrol in the heavily populated areas of the city rather than in their cars. Those were assisted by the Police reserve officers and the auxiliary cops. All volunteers, the former were certified and trained while the auxiliaries had only a short departmental training course. Christina had heard that if this show of force was not enough to prevent a murder tonight that there was already discussion about having the Governor call out the National Guard next year. 

Jack would love that. Home less than a year from a tour in Iraq, he had had enough of alley ways and foot patrols and being in danger. Of course, being a First Lieutenant in his Guard unit, he probably wouldn't be walking the roads or manning a barricade if it came to that next year. 

The attractive blonde officer scolded herself. She had been mechanically scanning the back of the business center she was checking, pointing the remote controlled spotlight on each service door, each barred window, each gap between the buildings. While she had been on the job long enough that she would have immediately noticed something wrong with anything she passed, she needed her full attention on what she was doing. What if she drove into a restaurant's grease collector as Danny Ubick had a few months ago while he was half turned watching a pretty girl? He was NEVER going to live that down.

She eased the steering wheel over to swing around the corner. She checked the darkened drive through window of the pharmacy that marked the last business on this end of the strip. Now she would check the front doors. She considered getting out of the car and walking the front, rattling the doors as she did. She had just decided not to, that there was no point in her being foolish about exposing herself, when movement in the parking lot caught her attention. Frowning, she started to turn the spotlight on the lone car when she heard the scream.

Her reaction was automatic. She slammed her right foot down on the accelerator. She flicked on the high beams and then cut on the blue lights. Her other foot pressed the floor mounted radio button. As she reported the situation she saw a figure turn and begin to run towards a gap in the buildings. The lights of her cruiser illuminated the knife clutched in one hand. She turned in the direction of the fleeing outline, chasing it until it disappeared in the dimly lit alley.

Stomping on the brakes, she slid sideways to block the entrance and leapt from the car. She shouted the information into her shoulder mike that she was in foot pursuit of an armed suspect possibly the Halloween Killer. Drawing her service weapon, she started after the subject, calling on him, as she thought the figure seemed male, to halt.

Between one step and another the world seemed to slow to a crawl. Dimly, she could hear dispatch acknowledging her. She could hear the woman still screaming out by the car. She could hear the sound of distant sirens and blowing engines as her fellow officers rushed to her assistance. Her mind flashed back to last night, to snuggling on the couch with Jack, with their three year old daughter Cassie tucked between them. Jack had finished grading the tests his 10th grade history students had taken that day and it had been just cool enough to make lighting a fire possible. The warmth surrounding her, from the flames, from her husband pressed against her, from her daughter sleeping with her head pillowed against her all took Chris away to a safe place. The place was so safe that as she forced her mind back to reality for the first time she felt fear and a desire to leap back into her patrol car and wait for backup.

She couldn't. The fleeing suspect was still in sight. She had read last year's reports. They thought they had him trapped but had never been able to find him. Worse, however he had slipped through the cordon, he had done so with enough time to hunt down and murder his annual victim before midnight.

All of those thoughts flashed through her mind in less time than it took for the suspect to take a complete step. Chris took off down the alleyway, her eyes fixed on the fleeing form. He disappeared around the corner, ignoring her demands for him to halt. Sprinting ahead, she reached out and hooked a concrete pole protecting the corner from wayward drivers. Still running, she used her momentum to spin herself around the corner.

The blow was so hard that at first she didn't feel any pain. It felt like a punch to her stomach. Only when she looked down and saw the hilt of the knife protruding from her body, right under the bottom of her Kevlar vest, did the agony hit home. She wanted to scream but she couldn't find the breath. It HURT. Oh God it hurt.

A mocking laugh reached her ears. An unshaven face, full of deadly glee, thrust itself forward, so close she could smell his bad breath.

"Oh this time I topped it all," he sneered. "I killed me a bitch cop."

Suddenly his face twisted in surprise and agony. Chris could barely feel her finger pulling the trigger, but the muffled roar between them assured her that her S&W .40 cal had fired. She fired again and then once more. He tumbled backwards, falling to the ground, pulling the knife free from her as he did.

For a moment she swayed on her feet. Her pistol fell from her nerveless fingers. She covered the cold pain in her lower belly with both hands, her knees giving way. Then she collapsed sideways. A detached part of her mind noted the slight pain from the scrape of the concrete on her cheek. Her hands were wet and sticky, and she knew why. Her mind grasped what was happening and she started to pray.

"Hail Mary, full of grace..."

Headlights and splashing blue lights filled her world. Car doors slammed and feet pounded on the cement, nearing her.

"The Lord is with thee..."

Gentle hands rolled her over. From the sounds of the cries she looked as bad as she felt.

"Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit..."

She managed to pick out her Sergeant's face among those clustering over her. His hands were on her wound, his body shaking with the effort to stop the bleeding.

"Of thy womb, Jesus..."

People were screaming for an ambulance, for bandages, for a dust-off helicopter. Those cries should be loud, but they were getting so very faint now.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners..."

The faces of her fellow cops were gone. It was quiet now. All she could see were her husband and her daughter. They were smiling and she tried to reach out to them.

"Now and at the hour of our death. Amen."

It was very dark now. Then she could see a light. Not the "light at the end of a tunnel" she had heard about, but rather a light that seemed to grow all around her. There was a figure standing beside her. An old man, he leaned on a cane looking at her with pride and just a hint of disapproval.

"I thought I might see my grandmother, or my uncle. Perhaps my friend Beth." 

Chris was almost astounded at how calm she felt. She knew she was dead but somehow the feelings were not of loss or fear but of peace.

"Yes, well, normally they would be. But I wanted to talk to you first. By the way, I'm very proud of what you did. Had you not stopped him this night would have been more terrible than ever. He would have crossed paths with a family before midnight." The old man stared off for a moment. "But you stopped him. Granted, you cut that corner too close and look what happened. But you are brave and determined and that's why I wanted to talk to you before you move on."

He took Chris' arm and turned her a bit. "I want you to see this." 

The old man waved his free hand and it seemed like an opening appeared into another place. Chris gasped when she saw the killer standing, his hands on his hips. He was facing another figure, a figure so dark that it seemed to repel light.

"I fulfilled my yearly bargain," the man insisted. He seemed defiant, but he also was trying not to cringe too openly before the dark shape.

"So you did," replied the black shape. The words were clear and distinct without any accent or forced menace. Chris shivered involuntarily as though she had caught sight of a poisonous snake curled up at her feet.

"Three more times," said the dark form. "That's the seventh time you have been killed. Three more and you're mine, according to the bargain."

The picture faded. Chris found herself standing close to the old man. Somehow she knew that his presence protected her even from the dark evil she had just witnessed.

"He made a bargain, with, with..." Chris avoided the word, as though naming that entity could summon him.

"With Satan," finished the old man. "He," and Chris knew which "He" the old man meant, "Offered that man a deal. He could continue to live as long as he kills one woman each year, on the eve of All Souls' Day. However, should he himself be killed ten times, then the bargain is over and he's forfeit. Tonight was the seventh time he has been killed."

"Why don't you stop him?" burst out Chris. "I can't believe you let things happen like that."

"First off Christina, I'm not God, but one of his servants. Secondly, God allows things like that because he will not interfere with his greatest gift, free will. Mankind perpetuates the evil, mankind must stop it."

Chris looked at the old man. Servant or not, she could feel the power radiating from him. "What do you want me to do?" she asked.

A smile crinkled his face. "Good girl!" Somehow the comment, which once might have angered her as condescending, was anything but that. Instead, it was a high compliment. "I want you to stop him. Three more times."

Chris took a deep breath that she didn't need. "Okay." she said simply.

The man waved his hand again and another man appeared. Young and at the same time old, his pale face was unlined and serene. He was dressed all in black. He nodded respectfully to the old man and then smiled at her. 

"This is Seth," introduced the old man. "He is one of my associates and will look after you. Whenever you have a question that you really need help to answer, call for him." The old man raised both hands. Light shone around them, seeming to come from him as though it could no longer be restrained by his facade. Then Chris was laying in bed, curled up on her side and blinking the sleep from her eyes.

She threw back the covers and swung her legs to the floor. Groaning slightly, she stumbled to the bathroom, scratching an itch on her side as she did. Good Lord her mouth tasted awful. She spread her feet before the toilet and braced one arm against the wall. Even as she began to wonder just what the hell she was doing and why her other hand had dropped down in front of her, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror mounted over the sink.

"Holy SHIT!"

"What is it?" came a muffled female voice from the bedroom.

"Errr, stubbed my toe, Angela." Somehow the name came from her lips automatically.

"Well, with what you had to drink last night, I can't say I'm surprised. Again," came a tart reply.

Chris examined the image in the mirror. Flush faced and fleshy, with sagging cheeks and a thick neck. She needed a shave, she noted. And a haircut. Jack would never allow himself to get this disheveled. Then she looked down, particularly at what she held in her right hand, which was directing a stream into the porcelain bowl. Mostly into the bowl, as she noted the seat was down and her aim wasn't perfect. 

"Seth," she whispered. "What the," she paused, Unable to think of an expletive she could use to what she was sure was an angel she simply asked, "What is going ON?"

The black clad figure was beside her in an instant. "Oh, you're awake."

"Damn, I was hoping I was still asleep and dreaming." Chris realized she was still holding her penis and hastily released it. Okay, would you please explain why I'm standing here with a five o'clock shadow, a beer belly and a hangover? I mean, is this some take-off on 'Heaven Can Wait'? Or perhaps this is an unaired episode of 'Quantum Leap'."

Seth didn't bat an eyelash. "A bit of both, perhaps. I won't be tapping on any hand-held computer but you are going to be the only one who can see and hear me."

"Okay, so who am I and why is this happening?"

"You are you, Christina. However you are sharing a body with Charley Lightner. Charley is not aware of you, but you are in control, at least for now. He's a nice guy who has let everything get into a rut; his job, his marriage, his entire life. He's a construction worker, he drinks too much, spends too much time with his friends and not enough home with his wife. He actually wants to do better but he just can't summon the determination. So you are going to help him. And in return, come October 31st, IF you have arranged things properly, you will meet and defeat your opponent. 

Chris opened her mouth but Seth beat her to it. "NO, you could not and cannot come back as yourself. Its months after your death. Your husband and daughter are just beginning to come to terms with losing you. Showing up in any shape or form would only cause trouble." 

He looked at her sternly. "ANY shape of form. If you attempt to find them and see them, action will have to be taken to prevent it. I'm sorry, but its best for all concerned."

"Okay," reluctantly admitted Chris. "But what am I to DO?" she almost wailed. "I don't know anything about Charley, or Angela in there, anything about his job, his habits," she stumbled, blushing, "Their sex life. ANYTHING!"

"Charley is not gone. Just give him free rein and the daily life will take care of itself. However, you need to give him some direction and get him in shape to handle the confrontation that will take place in six months. Don't just 'Take over' although when need be you can be in control. Work with him." Then Seth was gone.

Following directions, Chris somehow relaxed and let Charley follow his morning routine. She showered, shaved (with only a couple of nicks) and grabbed a cup of hot coffee from the kitchen before sitting down at the chipped plastic table. A few minutes later Angela appeared to serve the breakfast that Chris had seen on the stove.

Chris studied the other woman. She appeared to be a match age-wise with Charley, around 30. About 5'4 she wore a few extra pounds around her waist and bottom. She had light brown hair done up in curlers at the moment and was wearing a bathrobe. The legs peeking out were shapely but in need of tightening up a bit. But then... Chris studied the body she was in and couldn't suppress a groan.

"Serves you right," came the tart reply. "I wish just once you would come home at a decent hour not reeking of smoke and beer..." The litany went on. Chris listened to it with half an ear, which was more attention than Charley gave to it, she noted. Still, it sounded pretty justified to her.

"I'm sorry," she finally said when Angela wound down. She hastily finished eating, went and brushed her teeth and left. Angela was at the door and handed Charley his lunch pail. A brief smack on the cheek was what she was given in return. That wasn't good, Chris thought. Sure, she and Jack didn't give each other Clark Gable/Vivian Leigh kisses every time one of them went to work, but they were a lot more affectionate than this.

Chris sat back, allowing Charley to drive his pickup to the worksite. She definitely let him take the lead in the carpentry work that was his profession. She just watched and listened as he spared with and worked with his fellow construction workers.

The only time she wanted to butt in was during lunch. True to form, the guys sat down together and proceeded to eat, and whistle at every passing woman. Chris had got some of that when she first started on the force; the comments, the innuendoes, the outright offers. However by firmly standing her ground she had stopped them and earned the respect of her fellow cops. But she wasn't here to make fellow workers politically correct.

The 5 o'clock whistle blew and everyone scampered for their vehicles. One of Charley's buddies, Joe, yelled to Charley that they were going to Flanigann's. Apparently acceptance of the invitation was assumed. Shocked looks appeared when Chris firmly announced "Sorry guys, I got something I have to do this afternoon." 




Deja-Vu



That thing was to stop by a gym and purchase a membership. Chris considered where to start. Due to his job, Charley had good upper body strength, but no wind and no stamina. His agility was nil, due in a large part to the fat around his middle, and she shuddered to think what his cholesterol count was. That was all she needed, to have him have a heart attack from exertion when she confronted the killer, They certainly were not going to indulge in Tae-Kwon-Do, her favorite workout. By the time she had changed clothes, carefully ignoring the fact she was surrounded by half-naked men, she had decided that she would start with the treadmill.

God, it was even worse than she thought. Five minutes and Charley was gasping for breath. They weren't even running. She pushed him, keeping his pulse elevated to the right level and gave him a good, if limited, workout. She returned to the locker room and decided to take a shower here before going home.

That wasn't the greatest idea she had ever had, Chris decided five minutes later. After all, she had never been in a man's shower room before. Being surrounded by nude male bodies, some of which were QUITE attractive, was more than she had counted on. She closed her eyes, concentrated, washed up as quickly as possible, and fled as soon as she could.

Angela was quite surprised to have Charley home at a reasonable hour, even though he fell asleep watching TV. Dinner was good, Angela making an only slightly barbed comment about "Wasn't it nice to eat it hot for a change". Chris just smiled in return and agreed.

The next morning was almost as bad as the first. This time, instead of a hangover though, the pain was caused from the previous day's workout. A couple of hastily swallowed aspirins helped though along with the coffee, as well as a chance to actually relax a bit and talk with Angela over breakfast.

As Charley drove to work, Chris thought over what she had observed so far. Getting Charley in shape was going to be work, but was something that could be accomplished. Knitting the gap between Charley and Angela was going to be harder. the morning conversation had been pleasant, but impersonal. There didn't seem to be any real connection between the two people. It was as though they were simply sharing the same house, the same bed. Well, nothing good ever came easy.

Charley staggered away from the health club that afternoon, mentally protesting at the sudden drive to get him in shape and wondering where the impetus was coming from. Still, it did feel better to wake up without the usual headache. Even the aches and pains from the exercise that somehow he seemed almost compelled to do seemed to be lessening. And he admitted that Angela wasn't on his case all the time. 

Saturday morning came and Charley cut the grass around their small two bedroom tract house and made some minor repairs that Angela asked him to do. Asked him, Charley noted, not nagged him. Not even when he took a break in the hottest part of the day and watched the baseball game and had a couple of beers, the first he had all week he realized. Well, he smiled, that might make tonight even better than usual.

Chris had been content to simply sit back and watch. She HAD made Charley drink water when he got hot while mowing the grass but that had been about it. She had wondered what the building excitement was all about, but had not delved into Charley's thoughts. It wasn't until bedtime when Chris realized what had Charley excited was that Saturday night was his and Angela's "Do It" night.

"Oh CRAP! Okay, calm down Christina," she thought. "Maybe this isn't so bad. Think of it as a learning experience. Something to reflect on, experience the other side. Find out what you could have done for Jack to increase his pleasure."

Resolutions were all very good, but Chris nearly screamed for Seth to get her out of this body when she felt Charley's cock start to stiffen. She looked down in amazement as it grew. She felt dizzy. Well, no wonder, as the amount of blood it must take to engorge this thing couldn't leave much at the top.

Then Charley was rolling on top of Angela, who spread her legs and guided him into her as the couple kissed. Chris made a mental note that Charley's kissing left a good bit to be desired, but at least it was enthusiastic. She could feel Angela's body moving under Charley. It felt good to feel her rounded and soft curves. Quite different from Jack's firm and lean body. Her mouth tasted different also. And the feel of Angela's pussy engulfing Charley's cock. No wonder guys like this so much. It really felt good.

Charley heaved up and down, moaning and gasping as he thrust into Angela. Chris noted that Charley felt increased excitement that he was able to move faster and with more vigor than last week. Angela seemed to be responding also, verbally and physically. Then Charley was yelling and Chris shuddered herself in the throes of her first male orgasm. Shared though it was, it felt damn good too.

Angela had cried out and bucked wildly under Charley and told him how good he was. Chris snorted. "Fake an orgasm there much honey?" She herself hadn't done that in years and even then she was better at it than Angela was. But Charley didn't seem to notice and fell asleep shortly afterwards. Chris slept when Charley slept somehow, but tonight she stayed awake after he was snoring. That allowed her to notice when Angela slipped from the bed and snuck into the bathroom. Straining, Chris could hear squishing sounds and figured Angela was finishing herself off.

No wonder, she admitted to herself. That wasn't much. basically no foreplay, no cuddling and not much time in the saddle either. okay, she was really going to have to work on this. But, she searched Charley's memory, it wasn't all his fault. Maybe Angela wasn't getting much, but she wasn't helping either. She needed to be a bit more vocal in letting him know what pleased her. She sensed Charley WANTED to sexually satisfy his wife but didn't know how.

Sunday morning came. After breakfast Angela got ready for church. Charley didn't usually go with her, but Chris figured that not only was this a good opportunity for the couple to spend some time together but she herself darn well needed it.

Good Catholic girl (well, mostly she reminded herself) that she was, Chris was unaccustomed to the Protestant church that the couple attended but sat back and enjoyed the service. She reminded herself that the roads to God were many, that no one denomination had a lock on heaven by itself. And Angela was happy that Charley was with her.

The next week passed, and then the next. After a while they seemed to blur together, as Chris felt herself doing with Charley. She now thought of the body as "Theirs" rather than "His". Charley was working out at the gym of his own accord now. He had never been an athlete, but he had been active when younger and he enjoyed getting back into shape. Angela also enjoyed Charley's increased vigor. Chris had been subtlety coaching Charley on how to please a woman. Not a lot at any one time. She had to laugh, thinking what Angela's reaction might be if Charley suddenly began to act on everything that Chris wanted him to learn. 

First she instructed him in foreplay, how to use his lips and his fingers to excite his wife. She taught him where to touch her. She admitted that the first time Charley went down on Angela she almost started running again. After all, what Charley felt she felt, and the sensation of their shared tongue dipping inside of a woman was just about too much for her straight, church-going self to handle. But she did.

The biggest thing she managed to do was to get Charley to talk to Angela about their sex life, to ask her how she felt and what she wanted to do. To Charley's surprise, she confessed that she had always wanted to try oral sex on him, but had always worried that he would think her some kind of slut for suggesting it.

Charley was so excited by the idea that Chris couldn't understand how he could possibly be conscious. His cock had grown to a size matched only by one she had caught a glimpse of in the shower at the gym. He stretched out and Angela bent over him.

Good GOD. Charley let out a moan that rattled the windows when Angela's mouth slid over his raging hardon. Chris chimed in silently. No wonder guys loved this. No wonder Jack always had a grin on his face when she suggested this, or simply surprised him by blowing him. The sensations were incredible. It felt completely different than she remembered when Jack went down on her. 

Angela was a bit clumsy, but determination kept her going even when it looked like she was about to pass out from lack of air. She never stopped, not even when Charley warned her about the buildup that was about to explode. Indeed, she rammed her head down even farther on the straining shaft and rode Charley's squirms and upheavals as his balls emptied themselves in Angela's mouth. After a pause to recover the duo (or was it a trio Chris wondered?) made love, slowly, sweetly, attending to each other's needs.

Of course things weren't always smooth sailing. Sometimes Chris wanted to pound BOTH Charley and Angela's heads together. She also forgot sometimes she was in a male body that didn't move the same way her original one did. Not only did she get an occasional bump and bruise, she once got Charley to attempt a position that she as Christina had strained to get into and Angela seriously thought she was going to have to call the paramedics when his back went out. But she persevered.

One day on the way home from the gym, Chris noticed a sign in front of a stand-alone building in the local mall's parking lot. Intrigued, she got Charley to slow down and take a look. The sign advertised couple's ballroom dancing lessons.

Chris had always loved to dance. It was something in common that she and Jack had discovered during their courtship. She missed it. Granted, the majority of their dancing had been to country music, two-stepping and line dancing. Chris had briefly considered trying to get Charley and Angela interested in that, but had discarded the plan almost immediately. What if she ran into Jack? She wanted her husband to be happy but the thought of him dancing with someone else was too much to bear, let alone the idea of him doing other things. But now this different type of dancing might be fun.

Charley broached the subject and Angela threw her arms around him and nearly carried him off to the bedroom right there and then. The next evening they went down and enrolled. Chris was relieved to discover instructor didn't go in for fancy dress ideas. The thought of being in a tux was a little more than she was willing to accept. Shared body or not, Chris felt she was and always would be female, and some things were just not going to go down with her. 

The classes were fun. Charley was much more agile then before and Angela kept up with him step for step. The closeness between Angela and Charley was wonderful. Chris felt that no matter what happened in the near future, in this part of her mission she had succeeded.

The other part weighed heavily on her mind as the months went by and it became October. She shifted her efforts in the gym to kick-boxing, sparing with several other novices and improving rapidly. Then, finally, it was the night before All Hallows Eve.

When Charley had arrived home, Angela met him at the door with a huge kiss and a hug. Pulling him inside she fairly danced around the room.

"Guess what?"

"What?"

"We've been invited to compete in a competition tomorrow night at the studio. There will be other couples with about our same level of experience. Won't that be great?"

"Oh, my, yes." Chris was in full control right now. Giving Angela a smile that she hoped wouldn't be recognized as phony, she rushed into the bathroom.

"Seth!" she whispered fiercely

"What is it Chris?" asked the black clad man as he appeared beside her.

"Tomorrow night, Angela wants Charley to go to a dance contest with her! Shouldn't I, we, be out searching the city?"

"Where are you going to look Christina?" asked Seth.

"I don't know."

"Then don't worry about it." For the first time he touched her and she felt his calm peacefulness. "Take no care for tomorrow. Tomorrow will take care of itself." He was gone.

She quickly Walked back to the living room, finding Angela there, trying to stifle tears. Charley took her in his arms and kissed her. "Of course we're going,' he smiled. "Don't be silly."

Angela wrapped her arms around Charley's neck and kissed him. there was no subtlety in her movements, her tongue was in his mouth and she rubbed her body against his. Chris felt the instant stirring in Charley's groin that never ceased to amaze her. He picked his wife up and carried her to the bedroom, shedding his clothing as he went. Standing her beside the bed, Charley slowly stripped Angela of her clothing next, pausing to kiss and savor each new part of Angela's body as it was revealed, from her white neck all the way down to the curve of her calves. He scooped her up in his arms and lifted her into the air. Responding, Angela wrapped her legs around her husband and lowered herself onto his jutting shaft.

Chris' head swam. The sensations were incredible. She had grown accustomed to feeling with Charley's body, sensing what he sensed and incidentally enjoying what he felt. But when Charley turned and fell backwards onto the bed with Angela impaled on his cock she almost passed out from the sheer pleasure of that. Angela's weight buried Charley completely inside her and she arched and let out a strangled moan of delight. She braced her knees on either side of Charley and began to ride him.

Charley was going crazy. Angela was going crazy. Christina was completely lost in the actions of Charley's body. She wasn't guiding Charley, not any longer, she was one with him and glorying in the strength of the male body she was sharing and the delight of satisfying the woman on top.

"Charleyyyyyyy," cries Angela. "Fuck me, oh FUCK me darling. Oh GOD you feel so good." She bounced harder and harder on him, her face twisted in glee. Charley grasped her hips and pulled down hard, thrusting up into his wife with all his new found strength. The couple moaned, cried, called each other's names and when their orgasm took them, when Charley flooded every inch of Angela's womb with his cum, there was no faking the wild exultation they both felt.

They slept late the next day. Charley had called early in the morning to arrange to take the day off and then collapsed back into bed with his wife. that afternoon they simply relaxed before showering, together, and preparing for the dance contest. They arrived a few minutes early. Charley guided Angela around several taped off areas where the pavement was being repaired. They carefully warmed up as the music started. Dance pair after pair performed and then it was their turn.

As the dance went on, it seemed to Chris that she was drawing away from Charley somehow. It was Charley who was moving to the music, who was spinning Angela around. He, not her, was reveling in the speed and grace of Angela's movements and the response of his body to his wife was all him. Chris felt almost like an observer now. Still inside Charley and feeling what he did, she was no longer the one in control. She was just watching.

The music rose to its climax. Charley spun Angela away, then back to him, He dropped to one knee and she stretched out over him. Her arms reached past her and one leg rose. She laid across his thigh, trusting completely on the support of it and of his arm under her back to keep her from falling.

The music ended. there was a moment of silence, then applause. The couple rose and Charley crushed Angela in his arms before he bowed and she curtsied to their friends and fellow dancers.

When they left, over an hour later, they walked out of the dance studio with Angela clinging to Charley's arm and beaming up at him. For his part he couldn't seem to keep his hands off her. All he wanted to do was touch her and hold her. When they reached their car he swept her up into a long kiss.

The kiss was broken by a scream. The couple looked around and saw a young woman running across the parking lot, a dark figure in pursuit. Automatically, Charley shoved Angela through the car door he had just unlocked, tossed in the keys, and slammed the door.

"Stay in the car and call 911," he shouted as he took off across the parking lot. Neither the fleeing woman nor the man chasing her noticed him until he slammed into the pursuer with his shoulder, both men tumbling to the ground. He bounced back to his feet and then froze for a moment as the other man produced a long knife.

"Get out of my way," the dark figured screamed.

Chris tried frantically to take control. "Don't freeze up," she tried to cry mentally to Charley. It was no use. Chris no longer had any semblance of power over Charley's body. it was all up to him.

Charley came unstuck. "Fuck you," he shouted defiantly. "Pick on someone your own size you bastard."

The man made a swipe at Charley, who dodged the blow handily. The two men circled. The man with the knife cast frantic glances past Charley, who never took his attention way from the knife-wielder. He assumed the woman had fled towards the dance studio and tried to keep himself between the madman and her, and also between him and Angela.

The man made several more feints and passes at Charley, moving the knife in circles. He thrust and when Charley jumped back, he found himself teetering on the edge of one of the holes dug in the concrete. The knife wielder grinned and lunged.

"NO!" came a scream. The man paused and looked away as Angela continued. "Charley. Catch!" He turned just in time to pick a flying piece of rebar out of the air as his wife threw it to him. She shrank back and the killer turned his attention back to her.  

"You should have stayed out of this," he snarled. "I would have simply done the other one, but now you'll do instead."

Charley caught his balance. "The Hell you will." He dove forward towards his wife, swinging the metal construction rod. The killer tried for Angela but Charley was between them. He used the rebar like a sword, driving the man back. 

There was a distant boom of a church bell. The clock was striking midnight. The killer threw caution to the winds, desperately trying to get past Charley. Catching the sight of Angela out of the corner of his eye, Charley was roused to fury. The man took his eyes away for one moment to look at Angela and Charley swung the bar with every ounce of strength. Without a sound, the man fell to the ground, his skull crushed.

Chris felt light-headed, even as the rebar fell from Charley's hand and he rushed to take Angela in his arms. Then she was no longer in Charley, instead standing there with Seth beside her. She looked at the angel.

"Well done Christina." he complimented.

"But I didn't do anything," she objected. "It was all Charley."

"Yes, but had you not guided him on the path you did, he would have not even been here, much less have been able to take the actions he did." The two watched as police cars, an ambulance and even a TV van arrived. Chris watched the blonde female she remembered as one of the hosts of the early show begin to interview Charley. Well, some things change. She scanned the responding police officers, looking for someone she knew.

"Now Chris, come on, none of that," reproved Seth. Chris blushed, or would have had she been capable of it. It was NOT easy having someone around who knew what you were thinking. "It's time for us to go."

"Will Charley be alright?" Chris inquired as the parking lot faded away.

"Better than alright," smiled Seth. "He and Angela risked their lives for each other, and for a stranger. They will spend their lives together and their children will be an important part in the scheme of things to come." He studied Chris. "Are you ready for your next step?"




Deja-Vu



Chris considered the question for a moment. There really was no decision to make. As interesting and instructive as it had been to share a male body, she had really had quite enough of that. She wanted to ask Seth if she could be female again this time, but was afraid of the answer. So she simply nodded and said "Yes."

She came back to awareness much easier this time. Of course the fact that she was in the shower with cool water cascading down her body might have been the difference. Hastily she looked down. And thank GOD, she was female again. And in good shape. She admired the long legs she was presently washing and the washboard stomach. No children for this woman, whoever she was.

Chris luxuriated in the shower for a bit longer. At one point her fingers crept between her legs. Muddled images passed through her mind. She didn't seem to be able to quite capture any of them, although some must have been very stimulating to this woman. 

Abigail, that was her name.

She shut the water off and climbed out of the tub, wrapping herself in a towel as she did. She would have to hurry, it was nearly time to go to work. She began to dry off when a bit of cool air brushed over her body. The door was open and she sensed someone else was entering. Chris felt Abigail smile and knew the new-comer must be someone familiar, and important, judging by the shiver of excitement that ran through her body.

Then Abigail was spun around and pressed against the bathroom wall. A leg pushed between hers, a hand slipped inside her towel to cup a rounded breast and warm lips locked onto her mouth. A long deep kiss ensued before the other person released Abigail and stepped back with a laugh.

"That's so you won't forget about me at work," smiled the lovely Oriental girl standing before her.

"As if I could," replied Abigail, who reached out and touched her lover's face with her fingers.

"Got to go, sweetheart. Have a good day," said the other woman.

"Love you Kimberly," said Abigail to the disappearing form. who's head suddenly popped back around the bathroom door.

"Love you too."

There was the heavy clunk of an outside door being closed. Chris stood still in complete shock.

"SETH! NOW!"

"There's no need to yell Christina. I'm always right here beside you." The angel appeared in front of her. "What in the world is it?"

"Absolutely not," snapped Chris. "Being a guy was one thing. He was married though, in a normal relationship. But I am not a lesbian. I don't think its right."

"You don't?" Seth raised an eyebrow.

"No," said Chris. In the face of his obvious disapproval she didn't sound as sure of herself. "It says so in the Bible."

"Perhaps. I am not going to argue dogma with you Christina. I simply want you to think. When the End of Time comes and the sheep are separated from the goats, what will Jesus ask? Its all laid out for you. Will he inquire as to your sexual preferences? Or will he ask what you did for him when you did something for the least of the others?"

Chris closed her eyes. "The Judgment of the Nations." She winced. She had always prided herself on her freedom from prejudice. Like always, pride came, and then a fall. She opened them and squared her shoulders. "What do I need to do?"

Seth laughed gently. "Christina! You are not being delivered to Purgatory. I think you may find joy here even as you did with Charley." The smile faded. "Abigail is a sheltered spirit who has lost her faith. All faith, in God, in her family and most of all in herself. When she came out, her parents rejected her. She fled from her home town to the city. Since then she has simply gone with the rising and ebbing of the tide. She has been unable to make a stand on anything, take action on anything. She is adrift. Even her relationship with Kimberly, her source of happiness is in danger because she won't fight for it. And the challenges are looming on the horizon. She will be tested, not once, but twice and woe if she should fail."

Then Seth was gone. Christina relaxed and let Abigail take the lead in getting dressed and going to work at the insurance company where she worked as a claims representative. She let the other woman work, watching her. Chris soon realized why Abigail had chosen this line of work. She never had to back up any decisions. She approved or disproved claims. If her rejection of a claim was challenged, she simply passed it to a supervisor. She worked hard, she was conscientious and never did anything to rock the boat.

Okay, she could live with that, decided Chris. But what else went on? She dipped into Abigail's memory. She Passed quickly through the past year, including her meeting with Kimberly, the details of which just about made Chris and Abigail both blush, she looked farther back. She wanted to see the details of the fight with her parents that had led Abigail here.

Chris found those memories but they were all a blur. There was shouting and Abigail's father's stern face and her mother's weeping one. Over all there seemed to be a thundering voice that over-rode anything the young woman had tried to say at the time. There was a door slamming and tears blinding Abigail as she recalled bundling her possessions into the car and roaring out of the driveway. But what was that younger face that she could see, also streaked with tears? 

Well, that would come when it needed to. In the meantime, Chris needed to settle in with this new situation. In some ways, it was quite surprisingly easy. Kimberly and Abigail both went to their jobs and came home. They shopped for food and clothing and cleaned up the house. It was just like any other relationship. They went out to eat and, to Chris' delight, went to the gym to work out on a regular basis. In fact, both women trained in martial-arts, although not the same school Chris was familiar with, but she adapted.

Of course, there WAS the strange feeling of waking up snuggled to another woman, and kissing her goodnight and, well, all the touches and affectionate gestures that went along with being a couple. It was much closer to how Chris and Jack had behaved than how she had first found Charley and Angela acting. Love was love.

Curiously, Kimberly was gone so much right then with her job, and with both of them tired when she was home, sex had not been on the menu. Chris was VERY relieved. She admitted to herself though that she looked forward to having Kimberly home. It felt wonderful to Abigail and safe for them both to go to sleep in the other woman's arms and wake up there. She felt a gently fierce air of protection from Kimberly and that was good. Abigail needed that.

Then a Friday came and Kimberly was home for the whole weekend. They puttered around the house on Saturday. Chris was delighted to find that Abigail was going to make one of her girlfriend's favorite dishes, a dish that it happened was one of Jack's favorite too. She seized the opportunity to assume charge and cooked up a storm. After happily preparing the dish, she slid it into the oven and set the timer. She stood up and balanced back and forth from one bare foot to the other. She was wearing only a loose blouse and panties.

As she stood up, Kimberly's arms circled her and soft lips nuzzled her neck. "I see we have an hour," the Oriental girl whispered. "Why don't we put it to good use? Its been far too long since we made love."

Chris felt the shared body respond, the nipples stiffening as the other girl's fingers brushed over them. She began to squirm back against Kimberly's body. Okay, decided Chris, time for her to back off and practice mental mathematics or something. She definitely was not prepared for this, even after weeks in this body.

To her utter panic, she found she could NOT pull back. Whether it was because she had assumed control so firmly or because of Abigail's submissiveness or some other reason, she was staying right in the forefront of the consciousness. It wasn't Abigail who was feeling what Kimberly was doing, it was Christina.

Kimberly spun her around and kissed her. The kiss was open-mouthed and Chris for the first time felt another woman's tongue in her mouth. The other girl's fingers were at the button of the blouse she was wearing and in just moments a soft hand touched her breast.

Chris was in a state. Unlike many, even most, other females, she had never had any experience at all with another woman. There had been no experimentation in high school or college, no fumbling in a shared cot at camp. No hurried kisses on a couch in the basement of a sorority house after too much to drink or sitting together on a blanket under the stars after a concert and finding the darkness hid hurried touches and caresses. She had never even practiced kissing with another girl. What was she going to do now?

Kimberly stroked a rapidly hardening nipple. The kiss became deeper, and Chris found herself moaning as the other girl's tongue plunged deeper into her mouth. She sucked in her breath as her lover's fingers wandered down her tummy and brushed over the front of her panties.

No, she didn't want this, she SHOULDN'T want this. But a warm feeling was spreading all through her body and she trembled as a longing, a deeper longing than she thought possible filled her. She was seized by a wild desire to kiss Kimberly back, to touch her in all the secret places she wanted to be touched herself.

"Ding Donggggggg," sang the door bell.

"Ignore it," whispered Kimberly.

"Gladly," was the reply as Abigail wrapped her arms around Kimberly's neck.

The bell was not to be denied. It rang and rang until Kimberly heaved a sigh. "Stay right there," she instructed the other woman and went to the door. there was the sound of the door opening and Abigail could hear voices before Kimberly raised her voice.

"Abigail? Would you come here please? NOW."

Abigail hurried to the front hall. She stopped and covered her mouth. There was the pale face that Chris had seen in her host's memories. With that sighting the memories opened and Abigail cried out to her sister.

"Naomi!"

The pale young girl in the doorway swayed on her feet, her eyes fixed on Abigail. Then she started to crumple. Kimberly caught her and Abigail was beside her in an instant.

"Let's get her to bed," said Abigail. Kimberly nodded and the two women carried the teenager to the spare bedroom and covered her with a comforter. Abigail sat with her sister until the exhausted young woman fell asleep. She continued to sit with her, falling asleep in the chair beside the bed, with her hand holding her sister's. She was vaguely aware of Kimberly slipping in during the night hours to check on both of them.

The next morning She pushed Naomi into the shower and fed her. Kimberly had already called Abigail's office and arranged for some time off for a family emergency. She had done the same herself, but remained in the background while Abigail talked to her sister.

Chris' head was reeling after the chat. She found it almost a great a comfort as Abigail did to be able to hold Kimberly's hand and talk to her about what she had found.

"Naomi's pregnant."

"How old is she?" demanded Kimberly.

"Nearly 19. She's about 3 months along. She won't tell me who the father is." Abigail sighed. "She's really scared of something or other. Apparently she got as far as breaking the news to our parents. who were, naturally appalled, when something happened that made her decide to flee."

"How did she get our address?" inquired Kimberly. "Not that I'm not happy to have her here," she added. "She can stay just as long as she wants. But I do have a reason for asking."

"I wrote her several times when we first moved in together. As I suspected, our parents intercepted the letters. But she found one in the trash and got our address from it." Abigail looked anxiously at Kimberly. "Is something wrong?"

"No, darling, and I'm glad she came here. I'm just thinking."

"Of what?"

"She got our address from a letter your parents received. That means they can find us too." Kimberly's face tightened. "I think I better make arrangements to be home the next week or two. As much as possible you should too."

Over the next week Abigail and Kimberly made taking care of Naomi a priority. They arranged for her to see a Doctor, a female Doctor who was a friend of theirs and who pronounced the pregnancy normal. They took her shopping and tried to get her to relax. They braced for the day that was coming.

And that day came. There a pounding on the door one afternoon. Abigail answered it, to be confronted by her parents. And Mr. Thurston. If he had a first name she never knew it and didn't want to know it. He was a lay preacher and their next-door neighbor. Chris dipped into the welter of Abigail's emotions and memories and was surprised at the anger and even hate she felt for the man. There was fear too. What was causing all this?

"Where is she?" demanded her father. Without waiting for an answer he brushed past her. Involuntarily, Abigail stepped back as Thurston approached, allowing the other man to enter. Her mother followed, without a word, but paused to look in her older daughter's eyes. There was a gentleness there that Abigail had not remembered seeing in a very long time.

"Where is she?"

"I'm here," announced Naomi softly. She stood in the hallway, having come from her bedroom. Kimberly came immediately behind her and slipped past her. The Oriental girl took in the scene in a flash and her jaw tightened and a look grew in her eyes. Chris recognized that look. It was the preparation for battle.

"Naomi, you need to come home." 

"Why?"

The simple question seemed to dumfound her father. "Because its where you belong. Its where we can take care of you. You shouldn't be here."

"Why not? Are you afraid I will be exposed to 'unwholesome influences' as I think you put it when you kicked my sister out of the house? As opposed to the mutters that I heard about being a 'Scarlet Woman'? Here I'm safe. I'm not there."

Thurston spoke up. Chris watched the memories of this mind run through Abigail's mind and began to hate him as much as she did. Chris saw him standing up in front of the church, his voice booming, his face red and his hand pounding on the podium. She heard him call for the 'cleansing of the temple' and saw him pointing at Abigail as he outed her, and called for her condemnation at the same time, demanding her dismissal from the church and her parents too if they stood by her.

"You'll come or your parents will drag you from this den of iniquity."

"what?" demanded Abigail. "You all but break into our apartment and you think you can claim.... what? That we kidnapped my sister?"

"We'll call the police," declared Thurston. "Who do you think they will believe?"

Kimberly laughed out loud, merrily but with a hard edge to her laughter. She crossed to the desk in the corner and retrieved a small leather folder. Holding it up, she displayed an ID Card and a badge. "Special Agent Kailess of the Drug Enforcement Administration. Would you like to use our phone to make that call?"

Thurston shut up. Something was stirring in Abigail's mind and Chris examined the lay preacher neighbor. Based on what she had learned through Abigail's memories, Thurston, although being an self-righteous ass as always, was not nearly the loud-mouthed gospel shouter he usually was. He was practically subdued. Not at all like him.

A suspicion grew. Abigail was unsure of why he was being so much quieter than usual, but that was overlaid by her fear of him. Chris wasn't afraid of him at all and her police-trained instincts were screaming at her. She observed Thurston. She observed Naomi. Her suspicions crystallized. Without thinking she spoke through Abigail.

"I'll be da..." she bit off the rest of the final word. 

"What?"

Surprising Chris, Abigail surged to the forefront, brushing Chris aside. But Naomi WAS Abigail's sister after all. Finally something had triggered the other woman's determination and Chris knew she was about to make a stand as she crossed to stand in front of her sister.

"Naomi, I know."

"You know? Know what?" demanded their father.

"I was talking to Naomi," she called over her shoulder. She looked in her sister's eyes. "Honey, I KNOW. Stop taking the blame for this. You're hurting yourself. You're even hurting Mother and Father. They deserve to know." She turned and looked at Thurston, who paled.

"Oh God, you do know," Naomi whispered.

"Yes. Tell them." 

"Tell us what?" Anger had faded from their father's face, replaced by puzzlement, and yes, Chris noted, uneasiness of his own. He made no repeat of the statement he had made a year ago of Abigail never calling him "Father" again.

"Don't," came a half plea, half command from the other male in the room.

"Don't what?" The girls' mother demanded. Suddenly she took a sharp breath. "Oh God."

"WHAT?" This time it was a plea from their father

"Tell him, Naomi. Mom's already figured it out."

Naomi took a deep breath and pointed. "HIM. He's the father." Her finger, like the finger of doom, was directed right at Thurston.

There was a long moment of shocked silence, and then the explosion. 

"You little bitch!"

Raging, Thurston surged forward and tried to push past Abigail to get at Naomi. Abigail dug in her heels and stood firm, protecting her younger sister. 

"You keep away from her." Abigail spread her arms.

"Don't touch me, you pervert," Thurston spat. "If it wasn't for you this wouldn't have happened." He turned his head to look at the stunned parents. "I was only trying to make sure that Naomi didn't end up like this," he groped for suitable words, "This THING."

"I'm the pervert?" Abigail was as cool and collected as Chris had ever felt her. "At least I don't try to blame my actions on someone else and then hide from my responsibilities."

Thurston jerked his gaze back to the woman blocking his way. "You fucking queer. How dare you lecture me?"

Chris pulled another piece of the puzzle from Abigail's repressed memories. "How dare I? You didn't succeed when you tried to seduce me so you tried to ruin my life, drive me from my family and then you turn your attentions on my sister. You're scum."

Abigail never saw the hand coming. She certainly felt the open handed slap that rocked her back on her heels for a moment. Stunned, she touched her fingers to her cheek.

Kimberly started forward, eyes blazing. "Why you son-of-a-bitch, I'll kick your ass."

Abigail held out a hand, her palm up. "No Kimberly. Wait. This is something I need to handle."

Thurston had stepped back, his face ashen. He stared at his hand as though he could not believe what he had just done. Momentarily he flinched as Abigail stepped forward. She stopped, once more within arms reach of him. She looked into his eyes and lowered her hands, which she had instinctively formed into fists. She said nothing, but turned her head, offering the other side of her face.

"Oh GOD," came from her mother. 

Her father stepped forward, looking unbelieving from his daughters to his best friend. "You," he looked at Thurston, "You were the one who told us how wrong Abigail was, how she was wicked and defiant against God. You counseled us that forgiveness was out of the question, some things could never be atoned for. And now this." He was visibly torn between wanting to spring at Thurston, who paled even more and backed up, and going to his daughters. He looked at Abigail and Naomi and his eyes filled with tears. He stepped between his daughters and fell to his knees. An arm went around each waist and he pulled them to him. "Forgive me."

Crying, the two girls pulled their father to his feet. Abigail touched his face. Tears ran down all their faces, including their mother as she joined them. "There is nothing to forgive Father."




Deja-Vu



Thurston found his voice. "Don't do this. You can't accept what she is. Its wrong." He stopped abruptly as Kimberly stalked up to him.

"Wrong? What's wrong is a man who takes advantage of a family and their trust to have sex with an 18 year old girl. What's wrong is a man who won't own up to his responsibilities and actions. What's wrong is a man who uses God to reinforce his own prejudices." The young Oriental woman's face blazed in anger. "Now, you get out of here before I lose my temper. In fact," she turned and nearly ran to the desk, "Where the hell is my service weapon?" 

The man paled and ran out the door, slamming it behind him. In the midst of her huddled family, Abigail, her emotions at the breaking point, could not keep from laughing. "Kimberly, your service weapon is in the bedroom where you always keep it."

The other girl laughed and winked. "You know that and I know that but he didn't. And I really didn't want to go get it."

The foursome untangled. Abigail looked back and forth from her parents to her lover. Kimberly approached the family.

"My name is Kimberly, and I love your daughter." 

"Hello Kimberly," replied Abigail's mother. She took a tentative step and then embraced her older daughter's lover. 

Abigail's father joined them. "Kimberly," he said hesitantly. "Please forgive me. Its hard to overcome the attitudes of many years. Although I see the man who reinforced them was doing so for his own purposes, still, its hard to just suddenly let those ideas go. Please understand. I see that you make my daughter happy, happier certainly than I have done in a long time, but, it will take time to accept all this." He looked at Abigail. "But I promise you, you both, that I will work at it."

The family spent the next few days together. It would be a gross exaggeration to say that all was well when the parents returned home, taking Naomi with them. But a start had been made at repairing the damage to all of them. Abigail was happier than Chris had ever known her.

That evening the two women relaxed and opened a bottle of wine with supper. Behind her smiles, Abigail hid a growing excitement that had caught Chris up in it. Abigail was in control but Chris was trembling inside her at what the woman had planned for her lover, and how much Chris was excited by the idea. She watched Kimberly through Abigail's eyes. The shapely Oriental girl wore tight gym shorts and a casual top that kept slipping off one shoulder or the other.

Abigail, and Chris as well in fact, was rapidly reaching a boiling point. She could not tear her eyes from her girlfriend. Fortunately, she had made plans for this and proceeded to put them into execution. Slipping up behind Kimberly, she cupped the other girl's bottom in one hand and squeezed. The startled gasp was very satisfactory. Giving a hearty chuckle, Abigail darted towards the hall.

"Why you little tease," Kimberly laughed and pursued Abigail down the hall and into the bedroom. Abigail had slipped behind the door and pounced as her girlfriend came through the doorway. Caught by surprise, the female Agent was propelled backwards onto the bed. Her legs hit the mattress and she sprawled out as Abigail leaped on top of her.

"Abigail!" Kimberly looked up in delighted surprise as the other woman captured her right hand and lifted it to the headboard. A quick flurry and Kimberly felt a nylon stocking wrap around her wrist. She tugged on it in delight as Abigail proceeded to bind her left hand.

"Oh my," Kimberly twisted her head to examine her bonds. "May I ask how you plan on getting my top off now?"

Abigail ignored her lover as she knelt between Kimberly's legs. Instead she concentrated on tugging the other girl's shorts and panties down, meanwhile shedding her own clothes. As she triumphantly tossed Kimberly's panties to one side she seized a shapely leg and looped yet another stocking around the ankle.

"Oh my GOD," the Oriental girl moaned in delicious excitement as Abigail finished tying her to the bed. "I don't know where this came from darling, but where have you been hiding this side of you?"

"Its been around." Abigail smiled. "I just needed to let her out." She caught the hem of Kimberly's shirt and pulled it up, spilling the Oriental girl's breasts free. "Oh my," she said in mock surprise. "I CAN'T get it off." With that she pulled the top over Kimberly's head, effectively blindfolding her lover. "I suppose it will just have to do there." A muffled laugh mixed with excitement was the only answer she received.

"Now then, my second surprise." Abigail fished beside the bed and retrieved a can. Giggling, she touched the tip against Kimberly's throat and pushed it sideways. White foam spurted and the other girl jumped.

"What's that? Its cold!"

Abigail leaned down and ran her tongue through the white creamy foam. "Whipped cream." she whispered. She licked it off then took the can again and sprayed down Kimberly's chest, drawing a line between the Oriental girl's breasts. Then came two quick shots to the hard nipples, followed by a liberal dousing around the navel.

"Oh this is almost as much fun as licking it off," chortled Abigail, as Kimberly thrashed and squirmed. "Well," she corrected herself as she drug her tongue down Kimberly's chest, "Almost." Then she had her mouth fastened on a pert breast and said no more for a while.

Abigail cleaned Kimberly's nipples carefully, her tongue darting from one to the other and scooping the whipped cream from them. She battered them back and forth, then carefully and gently closed her teeth on one. A deep satisfied moan from her lover spurred her on. She tightened her grip, almost but not quite crunching it and lifted her head. Bit by bit she stretched the hard nubbin. Kimberly arched under her and shuddered.

"Oh yes, please Abigail," the female federal agent gasped. The other girl shifted her attention and captured the other brown tip. This time she bit hard to begin with and then whipped the firm little breast around.

"So good, so good," came the whispered approval.

Abigail bit hard once more and then buried her face between Kimberly's breasts. She lapped down, leaving a broad wet streak before plunging into the cream surrounded navel. Now her girlfriend giggled and squirmed. Abigail loved it, and Chris admitted that this was both very exciting, and a lot of fun too.

Now Abigail trailed her lips over the swell of Kimberly's mound. Chris found herself almost disappointed when the young woman avoided her lover's pussy, instead focusing her attention of the smooth inside of one firm thigh. From there the soft kisses and licks proceeded down, causing much more twisting and pulling on the bonds. Nibbles at the back of one knee produced gasps that only got louder as long slow tongue strokes went down the back of the shapely calf to the ankle. Abigail shifted sideways and repeated her actions, moving up until finally she was between the other girl's legs.

Chris was lost. She desperately wanted Kimberly as much as her lover did. Although she, in Charley's body, had gone down on Angela as she taught him what to do to please his wife, this was different. The subtle scent of a woman to another woman. The taste of the nectar slipping down from between the smooth labia before her lips. The trembling of the firm body before her, it all aroused her to a fever pitch.

A single kiss started it. Long and slow, covering Kimberly's pussy. Then a shower of quick kisses all over her wetness and finally a quick thrust of her tongue into the Oriental girl's dripping love channel. Whether it was Abigail, whether it was Chris, it mattered not. Together they licked and kissed, sucked and tongued, driving the other woman to thrash about on the bed.

Abigail dropped a hand between her own legs. Already soaking wet herself, she strummed her hard clit even as she sought her lover's. Her lips closed over Kimberly's pearl and she sucked it while her tongue lashed the exposed tip. Her thumb kept time with her tongue as she strove to bring her lover and herself to the edge at the same time.

Kimberly was gasping, moaning, crying out. Chris felt Abigail's body buck and strove to help her host maintain control until the other woman broke. Finally Kimberly screamed in hoarse delight and together the two women in the same body felt the flood upon their lips, running into their mouth. A plunge of two fingers into their own shared pussy and a few twists brought Abigail's shuddering body to orgasm along with Kimberly.

The days that followed were happy. The two women went back to work, but made time for each other. Abigail started going to church with the Episcopalian Kimberly. They visited Naomi, and were welcomed with love by Abigail's mother and father. Abigail's mom confided how her dad had told off the congregation of her church for their previous actions and publicly regretted his own. Thurston was gone. A new, full-time pastor had taken his place and the women found him warm and wise and full of understanding.

Chris had lost track of the date. They were out dining one evening when Kimberly commented to their waiter about the sparse crowd.

"Its Halloween!" the young man replied. "No one's stirring if they can avoid it."

"I had forgot," admitted Kimberly. "Well," she paid the bill and they got ready to go. "Its not far to our car, just right around the corner and," she slipped her hand inside her shoulder bag, "I think we'll be alright." 

The two women left and turned beside the building. Their heels clicked on the concrete. Although both darted looks into the shadows, neither saw the man until he was right in front of them.

"Hello, girls" he sneered as he flourished his knife.

"Oh, Hi," brightly responded Kimberly. The killer blinked. This wasn't the reaction he expected.

"Oh, by the way," Kimberly's hand came from the shoulder bag. Light shone dully on the finish of her service weapon. "I'm a Federal Officer and you are under arrest. Drop the knife and back up."

Staring unbelievingly, the man did as he was told. Kimberly stepped forward to kick the knife away and fate took a hand. Her foot slipped and she staggered, trying to catch her balance. She toppled backwards, striking her head a glancing blow on the corner of the car. Her service weapon fell from her hand. A dark chuckle came from the man and he picked up his knife and advanced on the dazed woman.

"NO!" screamed Abigail. The man ignored her as he crouched over, reached for her lover. Then it was his turn to stumble as Abigail slammed a snap-kick into his side. She followed up her first assault, punching and kicking as she had been taught, forcing him away from Kimberly. He tried to regain his balance, waving the knife in front of him. She went into a full spin and drove her foot against him with all her strength.

The killer collapsed to the ground. Abigail looked at him with shock. Her kick had caught his wrist and turned the knife back against him. He lay there, his eyes open and unblinking, the hilt jutting from his chest.

The light-headedness and the feeling of being pulled away were familiar to Chris now. She watched from the side as Abigail snatched up Kimberly's weapon and kept one eye on the downed killer as she scrambled to check on her girlfriend. The quick onspection must have had a satisfactory outcome as Abigail let out a heart-felt "Whew!" and her body relaxed somewhat. Still keeping watch on the motionless man, she dug in her purse and used her cell phone.

Chris became aware that Seth was standing beside her even as her ears caught the distant growl of sirens. "Time to go," he said quietly as he touched her arm.

"Wait," protested Chris. "What is going to happen to them? Are they going to be alright?"

"I certainly hope so, but I don't know. I do know that Abigail is much stronger now than she was. She's made some peace with her family and she'll have Kimberly with her as she deals with having taken someone's life. There are decisions ahead of her and I don't know which direction she might choose."

Chris was confused. "You said something about Angela and Charley's children. That implies that you know something of the future. I don't understand. Is the future already written? Is it predestioned?"

"Good questions which I'm not sure I can answer. God knows the future. But his seeing it is not the same as his making it happen. Sometimes he reveals things, sometimes he doesn't. In Kimberly and Abigail's case I just don't know." Seth's manner became brisk. "Now then. That's two down."

"And one more time to go," breathed Christina. She glared at Seth. "I suppose this time I get to come back as a child. Or perhaps a dog. Let me remind you Chevy Chase did that already and I didn't think the movie was THAT funny."

Seth smiled gently. Oh this time I think you'll be right at home, Chris." His face turned serious. "Remember Chris, your entire life you make mistakes. They're not held against you, not by me, not by my Captain and not by him to whom we all bow. But you are expected to learn from those mistakes and not repeat them.

"Am I going to see you again Seth?" Chris asked.

"Once more only, when your days are finished. Until then you won't see me, but know that I will always be at your side."

Moved by a sudden impulse, Chris threw her arms around the angel. She straightened up and gave him a smile marked by determination. "Okay, I'm ready."

One more time the world swam for a moment. She adjusted the steering wheel as she blinked, looking at the darkened drive-through window of a pharmacy. She swung the patrol car around the corner. Now she would check the front doors. She considered getting out of the car and walking the front, rattling the doors as she did. She had just decided not to, that there was no point in her being foolish about exposing herself, when movement in the parking lot caught her attention. Frowning, she started to turn the spotlight on the lone car when she heard the scream.

Her reaction was automatic. She slammed her right foot down on the accelerator. She flicked on the high beams and then cut on the blue lights. Her other foot pressed the floor mounted radio button. As she reported the situation she saw a figure turn and begin to run towards a gap in the buildings. The lights of her cruiser illuminated the knife clutched in one hand. She turned in the direction of the fleeing outline, chasing it until it disappeared in the dimly lit alley.

Stomping on the brakes, she slid sideways to block the entrance and leapt from the car. She shouted the information into her shoulder mike that she was in foot pursuit of an armed suspect possibly the Halloween Killer. Drawing her service weapon, she started after the subject, calling on him, as she thought the figure seemed male, to halt.

Between one step and another the world seemed to slow to a crawl. Dimly, she could hear dispatch acknowledging her. She could hear the woman still screaming out by the car. She could hear the sound of distant sirens and blowing engines as her fellow officers rushed to her assistance. Her mind flashed back to last night, to snuggling on the couch with Jack, with their three year old daughter Cassie tucked between them. Jack had finished grading the tests his 10th grade history students had taken that day and it had been just cool enough to make lighting a fire possible. The warmth surrounding her, from the flames, from her husband pressed against her, from her daughter sleeping with her head pillowed against her all took Chris away to a safe place. The place was so safe that as she forced her mind back to reality for the first time she felt fear and a desire to leap back into her patrol car and wait for backup.

She couldn't. The fleeing suspect was still in sight. She had read last year's reports. They thought they had him trapped but had never been able to find him. Worse, however he had slipped through the cordon, he had done so with enough time to hunt down and murder his annual victim before midnight.

All of those thoughts flashed through her mind in less time than it took for the suspect to take a complete step. Chris took off down the alleyway, her eyes fixed on the fleeing form. He disappeared around the corner. ignoring her demands for him to halt. Sprinting ahead, she reached out and hooked a concrete pole protecting the corner from wayward drivers. Still running, she planted her left foot and pushed to her right, shoving against the post with her hand as she did. Using her momentum, she sprang AWAY from the corner even as she spun to face the back side of the shopping center.

The blow caught her between the breasts and staggered her as the knife blade impacted on the shock plate of her protective vest. She staggered back but retained her footing. As the wild-eyed figure before her tried to regain its balance, she lifted her service weapon into a two-handed grip. Her training taking over, she barked "Drop the knife. NOW!"

The man before her did no such thing. Screaming wordlessly he ran at her, the blade high over his head. Without aiming, Chris centered the front of her weapon on his chest, her arms locked before her. In compliance with her training, she fired twice. The killer staggered but continued to try to reach her, swinging the knife feebly. He fell, but even then he continued to crawl after her. Chris hastily looked behind her, confirming there was nothing under foot and backed away. Her skin crawled as he dragged himself through his blood, apparently still determined to somehow reach her. Then he gasped, choked and collapsed lifelessly to the concrete.

Chris found that once more she was drawn away from herself. Time stood still. She could see a squad car pulling around the far corner of the strip. It was stopped in place. She looked behind her. A splash of red and blue lights that marked another arrival she couldn't see yet was frozen in stillness against the trees behind the concrete. 

A form rose from the ground. Chris attempted to train the weapon her spirit self wasn't holding on him as she recognized the killer. But he couldn't see her. Instead, Chris shook at the bestial look of fear on his face. She heard him screaming, over and over, "No! NOOOOO!" before he threw his arms over his face and he was blotted out by an enormous shadow. Then he was gone, leaving behind only the stench of sulfur.

Chris tore here eyes away to see the old man standing near her, his eyes fixed on the last position of the killer. She wanted to hide behind him in case whatever had just taken the damned killer came back. Instead, she forced herself to remain calm and looked at him. 

"He won't be back Christina."

"Him? or HIM?" 

"Neither of them. Oh, my ancient foe lurks close always, hoping and scheming for a soul to take for his own. But as long as your guard is up Christina you need not fear him." 

"It, it sounds strange," admitted Chris. "I know what that man was capable of and I can only imagine all he did, but, somehow, for some reason, I felt sorry for him. For his fear and what I can only guess he will suffer. But I guess that he made his choice long ago and had no choice."

"No, you see, that's wrong Christina. There is no 'Devil and Daniel Webster'. At any time he could have turned his life around. The mercy from above is infinite and can be appealed to anytime before the end."

Chris nodded in understanding. "Its not he couldn't, its he wouldn't."

"Exactly." The old man leaned on his cane with both hands and beamed at her. "Now then young lady. You need to get back to your life. You have a lot to do and a family to get home to."

Tears filled Chris' eyes. "You mean, you mean, I get to go home?"

He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. "That's exactly what I mean. Your life is yours to live now Christina. You have done much, seen much and learned much. Put it all to good use and until we meet again, God hold you in the palm of his hand." 




Deja-Vu



Chris blinked. Movement around her resumed. The cars screeched up. Fellow officers boiled out of the alley. And her Sergeant was asking her if she was alright.

Hours later, the TV crews and the reporters had left. Internal Affairs had finished. In a surprise move, the Inspector heading the investigation shook her hand and assured her she had nothing to worry about. The shooting was completely justified. Although she had thought so, she had been surprised at the ease of the questioning. As she headed for the locker room, she ran into her Sergeant and said as much.

He had snorted. "Chris, you're a hero. If you had gunned that bastard down at high noon in the middle of church from behind no one would say anything." Taking in her appearance, the old veteran softened. "But you done good Chris." He put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. "Now go home. And Chris?" She turned and looked at him questioningly. "Don't you EVER tell anyone I just hugged you."

She laughed out loud. "Your secret is safe with me."

Chris sat in front of her locker. She often took a shower before putting on her civilian clothing and going home. Tonight, all she wanted was to go home. Thoughts of Jack and Cassie chased everything else from her mind. With a burst of energy she changed and almost ran to her car. She was going home.

She pulled into the driveway and got out of her car. The front porch light was burning and she could see light that looked like it was coming from the kitchen. She unlocked the door, closed it and relocked it, turning off the outside light. She followed the source of other light to, as she had thought, the kitchen. Jack was sitting there with two cups of hot tea. Wordlessly he handed her one. She took a sip, then set it onto the table and threw herself into his arms. Muffling her sobs against him, she cried herself out.

"Hey, hey," Jack stroked her hair. "Its okay." He tipped her face up and kissed her. "I know, I know. You have had one helluva day, baby."

"More than you could ever know," she thought. She looked up at her husband. "There was a time," she said. "When I thought I was never going to see you and Cassie again."

Jack kissed her again. "Well, lets go see her." 

They tiptoed down the hall and peeked into their daughter's bedroom. Chris drank in the sight of Cassie sleeping peacefully. She strove to keep the tears from flowing again. Bending over, she kissed her daughter gently on the cheek and adjusted the blanket covering her small form.

She wrapped her arm around her husband's waist and walked back to their bedroom with him. She took a quick shower, donned a short thin nightgown and headed towards the bed, brushing her hair. Jack was already there, stretched out on top of the sheet in a pair of cotton boxers. She climbed onto the bed and snuggled up beside him, smothering a yawn as she did. They lay together on comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"Jack, what would you say if I told you I'm thinking about leaving the Department?"

Her husband took a few moments to answer. "First, I would be tempted to yell 'Hallelujah!'. But then I would come to my senses. Darling, you are doing what you want to do, what you've dreamed of doing since we were teenagers. I've always supported you, just as you supported me when I decided I wanted to be a teacher instead of a lawyer. And when I deployed to Iraq. Never a word from you that wasn't encouraging."

"Well, I was thinking of a change, but I would still be working enforcement. You remember Dan Willis?"

"Sure. Big old bear of a guy who was your Field Training Officer."

"Yes. I saw him last week and he's now working as a Special Investigator for the District Attorney. There are two slots open on that squad. It requires you be a certified and sworn officer but its like being a detective. I'd be in plain clothes and although of course there would be late hours sometimes, Dan assures me that most of the time he works 8 to 5."

Jack hugged her. "It sounds great. But don't make any decisions right now Honey. Sleep on it. Think about it for a few days."

"Alright," Chris agreed. Then she got a wicked smile on her face. Snuggling up to her husband she ran her fingers over his bare chest. Stretching up a bit she kissed him, quick little kisses to accompany her fingers as they wandered down Jack's body. 

"I have been thinking about one decision for sometime now."

"Mmmm, what is that Chris?" Jack moaned, softly at first, then louder as Chris followed her fingers with her lips.

"I was thinking," Chris nipped Jack's nipple. "That it was about time," she flicked her tongue at the other one. "That Cassie had a baby brother," she kissed his flat stomach and looked up at him."

Jack reached down, running his fingers through her hair. "Have you stopped taking your birth control pills already?"

"Of course not silly. Not without talking to you first. Its a big decision too and we agreed we would always make those together."

"Two things." Jack touched Chris' cheek and she kissed his fingertips. "First, I've been thinking of that too and its a wonderful idea. And second..." Jack's voice trailed off.

"Second?" inquired Chris.

"Second," Jack suddenly reached down and caught Chris under her arms and pulled her up to him. Kissing her, he rolled them over until he had her trapped under him. "Second, I think that as much fun as where you were headed was going to be, we should practice on doing it the old fashioned way if you are going to have another baby."

Chris squirmed under Jack, then pretended to give in. When she felt his muscles relax, she hooked a leg over his and rolled them back over. Straddling her husband, she reached down and guided the head of his cock between her legs. She slowly relaxed her legs, settling down on him . Her hands grasped his wrists and she covered her breasts with them.

"You MINX!"

Chris let out a deep, happy sigh as her body came to rest on her man, his rigid shaft engulfed in her. She began to rock her hips, moving him inside her. "I can get pregnant this way just as well." She raised herself up until just the tip of his cock was still in her and held there.

"A tease too." The twinkle in Jack's eyes belied his words and his fingers began to carefully roll and tug her nipples. He gasped deeply as her knees suddenly gave way and she sat down on him in one long movement.

"Yes," Chris whispered. "I'm a minx and a tease and I'm all yours."

"And I am all yours." Jack shifted his hands to Chris' hips, caressing the smooth skin there, the tips of his fingers brushing the swell of her butt. "Play with your breasts Chris," Jack pleaded. "Its so hot to watch you touch yourself."

"Oh yes baby." Christina cupped her breasts and stroked her nipples. "You do so like that. I know." She began to rise and fall on him, aided by his strong hands. "Maybe later you want to watch me play with myself. You get so excited by that too."

"Maybe," Jack gasped, his hips beginning to rise and fall in counter-point to her. "But right now I just want my sexy wife."

Chris was bouncing furiously now. Up and down, she used her weight to slam the head of Jack's cock against her spongy spot. Her back was arched and her fingers furiously pulled and pinched her nipples. Her eyes were closed and she struggled for air, gasping deeply each time she dropped down onto her husband's shaft.

"Jack, Jack, oh God, Jack. Oh God, I love you." Her movements were frenzied now. She could feel her husband swelling in her and she gripped his cock with her internal muscles. He gave a smothered cry of pleasure that was practically pain and then she could feel him releasing himself in her, even as her own orgasm swept her away. She fell forward against him and his arms encircled her.

"I love you too," he whispered into her hair.

They made love one more time before exhaustion claimed them. Chris could not sleep. although her body clamored for rest. When the slow, regular breathing next to her confirmed that Jack was sound asleep, she slipped from the bed. She ran her eyes over the form of her husband. She caught up her nightgown from the bed and padded down the hall to look in again on Cassie. Her angel slept on. Chris's eyes filled one more time as she considered what she had nearly lost.

Going to the den, she fumbled over a shelf and picked up a small pouch. Opening it, she took out the rosary it held. Kneeling in front of the couch, she looped the beads over her hand, made the Sign of the Cross and began to pray in thanksgiving.

(The End)

*

(Yes, I chose the name "Seth" for the Guardian Angel deliberately in homage to a character in a favorite movie. My thanks as always to my bestest friend and editor Marian, who reviewed as much of this as she could before more pressing duties called her. You will survive being "Mother of the Bride". We both have before.) 



Deja Vu All Over Again



Story was inspired by a true event on my way to work one day.

### PART 1 ###

My company had just relocated to brand new offices downtown in that fancy mega-complex that took up four city blocks. I had just parked my car on level B5 and rode the elevator up to the mezzanine level. So here I was Monday morning, with a map of the complex in hand. A lot of companies' hours are 8 to 5, but I was fortunate to work for a company that worked 9 to 5 and included our lunch hour for "free." At close to 9, the mezzanine was relatively sparse with a few people shopping in the stores that lined the mall-like indoor avenues. My footsteps echoed through the near-empty cavernous corridor. Anyway, I was looking for the subterranean entrance to the building called "Core 12." As luck would have it, it was way on the other end of the complex. I'd have to figure out which street portal to drive into to park in a closer section tomorrow.

With map in hand, I was walking briskly while staring intently at the paper and glancing up occasionally at the signs hanging from the ceiling pointing the way to the various buildings, restaurants, services, and parking elevators. It was then that I felt a warm body walking right next to me, her perfume a pleasant distraction. I had been dating Kathy for a few months now, and we were slightly beyond the "just dating" phase. We met at work, she worked for a different group a couple of cubicles away in the next aisle. In the new location, she's going to be on a different floor than me. Bummer. 

I put my arm around her without thinking about it, and she did the same a moment later, and we continued walking while I continued staring at the map and hurrying us along. I hadn't had a girlfriend in over a year, and it felt good to walk together, our bodies swaying together as we walked arm-in-arm to our destination. It took nearly ten minutes for us to traverse the main avenue, and turn down a side avenue to reach the glass doors that led past a guard desk to a small interior elevator lobby. 

"Tim!" I heard from some distance behind me. It was Kathy's voice. 

I looked at the girl in whose arms I had been in for the past ten minutes. "Who are you?"

Before she could answer, Kathy screamed, "You cheating bastard!"

"Wait Kathy!" I said. "It's a misunderstanding. She started just walking next to me and I assumed she was you, without paying attention to her." Looking at the girl, I said, "Right? I guess I looked like your boyfriend from the back, and you didn't pay much attention either?"

"Uhm..." she stammered. She did look a little like Kathy; the same color and style of hair, the same height and build. 

Kathy walked up to us. "You expect me to believe that?"

"Yeah! I expect you to believe that! I wouldn't cheat on you. It was an innocent misunderstanding." To the other girl, I said, "Tell her..."

Kathy continued, "My last boyfriend cheated on me, and I trusted him, even after I caught him and he explained it away. I'm not making that mistake again, buster! It's over! Kaput!" She stormed onward and jumped into an elevator. 

I yelled at the closing elevator door, "If that's how much you trust people, I'm glad I found out now before we went any further!"

I wanted to cry. I'm kind of shy and I don't connect with women so easily. Will it be another year before I find another girlfriend? I exited the glass doors and walked a distance and sat on a bench opposite the credit union to collect my thoughts. I was in no mood to go to work now. Fortunately, this was also one of those companies that let you accumulate vacation days, and I had saved up, like, a gazillion vacation days over the years. I dialed my boss on my cell phone and said I needed to take a personal day for something that came up at home. 

He's a nice boss, and said, "No problem, enjoy your day off."

That other girl had come over and sat next to me while I was on the phone. "I'm sorry," she said when I hung up.

"That's okay," I said. "It's not your fault. You better get away from me before your boyfriend or husband sees us and thinks you're cheating on him..."

"I don't have a boyfriend or husband."

"No?" Something didn't quite make sense about that, but I wasn't sure what.

She said, "I thought you were cute--all lost and flustered and looking at your map and mumbling to yourself." She giggled. "I don't know why I started walking next to you so close like that, but I just did." 

"And you let me put my arm around you?"

"I almost ran away when you did that; like, what a creep! But I realized you must have thought I was someone else. I broke up with my last boyfriend over a year ago and it felt so good. I don't meet guys easy. I'm sorry about your girlfriend."

"Yeah, I understand. But I guess I'm glad I found out what she was like now. So maybe you did me a favor." I smiled back at her and continued, "So I guess it'll be a while before I meet a new girl now."

"Uhm!" she said somewhat oddly.

"What?" I said.

She smiled, slid closer, and put her arm around me again. "You just _DID_ meet a new girl. My name's Lia. And I trust guys, especially nice, shy guys..."

"I see. Well, I guess we both work for the same company. I'm Tim. Maybe we can meet for lunch or something later this week?"

She reached into her purse and called in to take a personal day too.

"So, what do you want to do on your day off?" she asked.

"I don't know, whatever you want to do," I said.

She reached for that brochure in my hand with the infamous map on it, and we looked at it together. The complex had a small performing arts arena in the center with called _The Dish_ that scheduled local plays, high school concerts, college graduations, and other acts throughout the day, and a local museum on one corner, and there was a hi-rise office tower at another corner with an observation deck and restaurant on top, and the whole place was, like, a huge shopping mall with no shortage of restaurants and stores. Then there was the _Coke Arena_ a few blocks closer to the river that had big-name acts scheduled for most evenings. There was no shortage of things to do. 

"Okay, then, c'mon!" she said.

We walked off, arm in arm. It was like déjà vu all over again. 

### PART 2 ###

It was slightly after 3 PM. We had done the museum, had lunch at the restaurant at the top of the observation tower, seen a local magic act in _The Dish,_ and we had just bought tickets to see some alternative band in the _Coke Arena_ for next Friday night; I'm not into music so much and forgot who; maybe it was Evanescence, or Children of Bodom, or some such. She had mentioned earlier that she was into Goth and something called "dee-ess," but when I asked what that was, she instantly changed the subject. 

Anyway, we huddled off by the side mezzanine away from the jostling crowd. She put her arms around me and whispered, "I'm sorry again about your girlfriend. You liked our day so far?"

"It was wonderful!" I said. "The best day off I ever had! And forget Kathy, she's history!"

In an instant, she had leaned into me, and we were kissing. I didn't get a kiss out of Kathy until about four weeks. Not only were we kissing, but we were drinking from each other, right there in public. It was so erotic! So wonderful!

After nearly a half-hour of sucking face, I guess it was getting time to part ways; being Monday we both had work tomorrow. She stopped into the ladies room, but came right back out saying that it was so crowded and had a huge waiting line. 

She grabbed my hand and led me through a door marked "Employees Only" (fortunately, we _were_ employees and had our employee-ID badges with us to prove it) and down a set of stairs to one of those one-only private lavatories. Again, she stepped inside while I waited in the gray basement corridor lined with pipes and maintenance equipment. She opened the door slightly and waved me in. 

"What?" I said, walking up to her.

Pointing to the toilet, she said, "The seat's filthy! I need a favor from you!" 

"What can I do about it?" I said with a bit of confusion in my voice.

She pointed to a bench set slightly off one wall. "You can be my toilet. Lie on that bench for me."

I was really confused by what she meant by that, but I lay on the bench, anyway. Before I could react, she reached under her skirt, pulled her panties down, swung a leg over my head, and sat on my face. Holy shit! 

She lifted up slightly and said, "Open your mouth for me, Tim!"

I couldn't believe a girl I basically just met wanted me to eat her in a public restroom while she sat on my face. Then shit again! I felt a stream of hot salty liquid shoot out of her twat into my mouth. What the fuck? She was peeing in my mouth! Holy shit! Stop! Fuck! 

I started flailing my arms to get her to stop, but she just grabbed my wrists and continued peeing. 

I heard her say, "C'mon honey; swallow, or you're going to have a problem."

Fuck! She was quickly filling my mouth. My head was pinned under the full weight of her body; I was immobile and helpless. I began to swallow.

After chugging down her bladder-full of piss, she stood off me and said, "Thank you, sweetheart! You must understand that's one of the courtesies I expect from my boyfriends."

Before I could answer, I rushed over to that filthy toilet and puked my whole lunch up.

I backed up and flopped down on that bench. Lia sat next to me and took my hand in hers. I almost yanked it away, punched the crazy bitch with my fist, and left, but something prevented me; maybe because I was still feeling queasy and could hardly move. "I'm sorry, Tim. I usually break my boyfriends into my fetish more gently. But I just couldn't use that filthy toilet, and I had to pee _so_ bad! And puking after I only peed, I guess you're lucky I didn't have to take a shit."

I finally looked at her and said, "A shit? Look, Lia. I like you. But that's disgusting! If that's what you expect me to do for you, then this isn't going to work between us."

"Don't say that, Tim! Please! Give me a chance! Okay? We both just paid fifty bucks each for those tickets for Friday night. You don't want to just throw them away, do you?"

"I guess not," I said. "Okay, we're still on for Friday night."

"Thanks Tim! And at the risk of sounding like I'm all that," she kissed me on the cheek, "I know a lot of guys would kill to hook up with a girl like me. So, please, give me a chance!" 

What could I say to that? I had to pee too, so she held my hand while I stood and pissed into that toilet. Then we walked, hand in hand, out to the public mezzanine once again. 

We were waiting for an elevator to go down to the parking levels when I heard a familiar voice. "Tim! Tim!" It was Kathy running up to us.

Lia and I glanced at each other, then at Kathy.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Tim, can we talk?" she said. Then to Lia she added, "Alone!"

Although I didn't think Lia and I had much of a future after next Friday's date was over, I said, "Anything you can say to me, you can say to Lia."

Kathy said, "Okay. I got thinking after I got to work this morning. I know what kind of guy you are. I know you told me the truth. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. Forgive me?"

"Yeah," I said. "I told you the truth this morning. But, thanks to you, I just met a wonderful new girl today!" Lia squeezed my hand.

Kathy continued, "I want you back, Tim! You've only known her for one day; we'd been going together for almost six months. We've been fucking sleeping together most weekends! C'mon, Tim, don't break up with me over a silly spat over a misunderstanding."

Truth be told, I didn't want either one of them. "No Kathy. You showed me your true colors this morning. I don't want you back!"

"Please, Tim!" Kathy looked to be close to tears. 

Lia spoke up. "I have an idea!"

"What?" I said.

To Kathy, Lia said, "You can be our collared slave..."

What the fuck?

Lia continued, "...and be the sex toy to both of us. You'll get to _be with_ Tim when he or I feel like using you."

Kathy just gave Lia a blank stare.

Lia continued again, "If you want to _be with_ Tim ever again, that's how it has to be!"

Kathy looked like she was thinking for a few moments. I almost fainted when she said, "Yes."

"You will?" I asked. 

Kathy said, "Actually, I'd been looking for someone dominant. I'd been a sub in a D/s relationship before, but he set me free. I'd been settling for vanilla relationships ever since. I already know Tim. He's a decent man. So I'm willing to give it a try."

"And you don't mind being with a woman, either?" Lia asked.

"I've never been with a woman before," Kathy said, "but I've got nothing against seeing what it's like."

"Then it's settled," Lia said. "How soon can you move in with us?"

Us?

"Are you two living together already?" Kathy asked.

"We hadn't talked about it yet," Lia said to me as much as to Kathy, "but it solves a couple of, _ahem,_ issues Tim and I have in getting our relationship off the ground."

It dawned on me, just then, what Lia meant by that. Would Kathy agree to do _that_ with Lia?

### PART 3 ###

The rest of the week was a whirlwind of planning and moving. It seems that we bought as much fetish gear from _Home Depot_ as from that adult store on the seedy side of town. I'd never moved in with a girl within a week of meeting her, but it was the only way to meet both Lia's needs and Kathy's needs. Kathy wouldn't move in with Lia without me being part of the household, but Lia needed Kathy as her sub so that I didn't need to serve toilet duty. 

So, after the concert, Lia and I picked up Kathy at her place, and we all begin life as a threesome: Lia and I being the dominant couple, and Kathy as our slave. 

I had asked Lia during that week, "You don't mind sharing me with Kathy?"

She answered, "You told me you don't like Kathy very much, right?"

"Yeah! That's right. After what she did, I don't think she's a very nice person, and I really don't like her very much any more."

"That's perfect!" Lia said with a big smile. "As long as I'm the one you love and that Kathy is nothing more than a slab of meat to be used by us, I have no problem in you using her, fucking her, or whatever."

"Okay," I said with a grin of my own. This situation might actually turn out to be a guy's dream come true. And as long as I don't have to drink Lia's piss again, I could see myself falling in love with her.

Lia and I had seen each other every night that week, and we had already slept together almost every night at her place. Now it was "official;" Lia and I were living together. After the concert, Lia and I held a small enslavement ceremony for Kathy. Taking a 6-foot length of steel chain that we bought from _Home Depot,_ Lia and I draped one end of that chain around Kathy's neck and, using a Lock-Jaw pliers, crimped an S-hook to it by the end to itself snugly, but not too tight, around Kathy's neck; that's right: no padlock, no bolt, but crimped an S-hook to it with a heavy Lock-Jaw pliers. The only way it's coming off is with a blowtorch--and that would most likely be detrimental to Kathy's state of being alive. 

The other end of the chain, we padlocked to an eyebolt embedded into the middle of the floor in the spare bedroom--now Kathy's cell. We put a small plastic pail in the room for Kathy to use as her toilet. Kathy had truly become our slave; she no longer had a job, all her possessions now belonged to Lia and I. There was the issue of supporting her, feeding her, and such. But Lia told me that a slave never wears clothing at home, so clothing expenses would be negligible. And Lia said that the cost of feeding her would also be negligible. I didn't quite see how we could avoid feeding her, but I was willing to go along with Lia and see how this played out.

Frankly, I was shocked that a woman--indeed, anyone--would willingly let that be done to them by someone else.

We left Kathy like that all night while Lia and I fucked each other's brains out all night long. 

I woke next morning as Lia crawled out of my arms and left the room. She returned a minute later. "Where'd you go, sweetheart?" I asked.

"I had to take a piss."

"Oh? I didn't hear the toilet flush."

She gave me the most evil grin and said, "C'mon! Fuck me again!"

I did.

We pulled our asses out of bed later that morning. Lia and I led Kathy downstairs by her chain. Kathy's breath really and truly smelled just like shit. Gross! 

In just our bathrobes, Lia and I snuggled on the sofa together and watched the news while our slave made breakfast for us. Slaves, of course, never wear clothing while at home; that was one of Lia's rules. I liked that rule, too.

"So, what do you want to name our slave?" Lia asked.

"Her name's Kathy," I said.

"That's so boring!" Lia scoffed. "She needs a slave name, like 'Fucktoy' or 'Cuntlips' or 'Pussymouth'."

Part of me was troubled by defiling another human being in such a way, but another part of me was turned on by it. Without thinking, I said, "How about 'Cuntmouth,' since we'll be using her mouth like it was a cunt?"

"Okay with me," Lia shrugged. "Cuntmouth, she is."

Cuntmouth brought our breakfasts to us on a bed-tray: a pile of fresh pancakes smothered in maple syrup, toast, orange juice, and coffee. None of it was for Cuntmouth. 

After she set our breakfast in front of us, Lia informed her of her new name, which she accepted with a nod to us and a "Yes, Mistress; yes Master."

"Cuntmouth, get down on your hands and knees in front of us," Lia told her. Lia and I set our feet on her naked back and used her body as a footstool the rest of the morning while we watched TV and slowly ate our breakfast. 

I whispered to Lia, "Shouldn't we feed Cuntmouth?"

"We will," Lia said, "She'll get these pancakes when we're done with them."

Being my occasional dense self, I said, "But we ate all the pancakes. There's none left."

"Sure there's plenty left. After we're finished digesting them, it's Cuntmouth's turn." 

"I see," I said, finally catching on. "But won't she eventually starve to death if we don't feed her for real?"

"No," Lia answered. "Human waste contains about 25% undigested nutrients. She might lose a little weight, not that she's overweight or anything, but she'll get all the nourishment she needs from the two of us."

I wasn't sure I could do such a disgusting thing to Kathy, er, Cuntmouth. But if Cuntmouth heard our conversation, which she had to have, she didn't react at all.

Our first real day at home as a family continued like that. We watched TV all day while Cuntmouth dutifully filled the role of footstool. 

Around mid-evening, Lia was getting horny again; bless her heart! She was toying with my hair with one hand, while her other hand was inching down my chest toward my crotch. When her fingers finally made contact with my eager cock, we slammed our mouths together. Lia motioned for me to stand and then sit on Cuntmouth's back, straddling her between my legs. Lia then sat on my lap facing me. After a little bit of squirming, I was inside her. 

With our lips glued together, Lia rode my cock up and down, up and down, bringing me to orgasm while her nimble pussy muscles massaged my cock. 

I was almost on the verge of coming when our seat fell out from under us and sent us tumbling onto the floor, my orgasm squirting cum into the air and onto the carpet.

"You fucking bitch!" Lia screamed at Cuntmouth.

"I'm sorry, Mistress," Cuntmouth whimpered. "You were both so heavy on my back, and my arms just gave out. Please! I'm sorry!"

"You're going to be sorry, your worthless fucking slab of meat!" Lia was livid.

Lia and I led Cuntmouth back upstairs to her cell. Then Lia set up a metal sawhorse with a wooden beam that we bought at _Home Depot._ We had carved the entire top edge of the wood beam to a sharp edge with a _Dremel_ tool, and had Cuntmouth lay face down along the beam. We then shackled her wrists and ankles to the legs of the sawhorse. 




Deja Vu All Over Again



Before we finished putting little padlocks on all four shackles, Cuntmouth whimpered, "This hurts! Please! Let me off. It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!"

"Well..." I began to say. But Lia locked the last padlock and got out a huge bullwhip and began whipping Cuntmouth across her back until her back was a bloody mess. Then she led me by the hand out of her cell and into our bedroom. 

"Now where were we before we were interrupted?" she asked with a grin as we climbed into bed.

For some deranged reason, knowing that Cuntmouth was in excruciating pain while Lia and I enjoyed tender lovemaking made my orgasms so much more powerful than ever before. I knew that Lia and I would have to find continued excuses to punish Cuntmouth in the future.

During our lovemaking then, I asked Lia, "Would you let me fuck you in the back door?"

"Say ass, Tim," said Lia.

"Ass Tim," I said.

Lia smacked me with a giggle and said, "No! I hate that. But that's what we have a slave for. Fuck her in the ass if you want that. Then make her lick your dick clean."

I had no real interest in fucking Kathy. Even though Lia didn't care, I still felt like it was kind of cheating on Lia to fuck the slave. I just thought it was nice to have a slave to wait on us and everything. 

Anyway, in the afterglow an hour or so later, I asked Lia, "Are we going to leave Cuntmouth like that all night long?"

"What do you care?" she asked.

"You're right, Lia. What do I care!" I kissed Lia and we drifted off to sleep in each other's arms. 

I got up during the night to use the toilet. Before returning to Lia, I got a tube of _Savlon_ antiseptic cream out of the cabinet and went to Cuntmouth. I rubbed a big glob all over her raw back and she gasped and looked at me with pained eyes. "Shhh," I whispered.

I finished and tossed the tube amongst her blankets. "Thank you, Master," she whispered. 

"Just don't tell Lia, okay?" I whispered.

"I won't, but can you take me off of this thing? It hurts so bad! Please!"

Lia wouldn't be pleased if I did that. "No," I said, and returned to bed.

Lia and I woke in the early morning to the sound of agonized screams coming from Cuntmouth's cell. "Shit!" Lia gasped.

We walked across into Cuntmouth's cell. "What the fuck are you screaming about, bitch?" Lia asked.

"The pain! The pain!" Cuntmouth moaned. "I can't take the pain! Please!"

"You woke Tim and me up out of a sound sleep, you inconsiderate whore!" Lia screamed.

Lia left the cell and came back a moment later with a tub of K-Y Jelly in her hand. "What're you doing with that, Lia?" I asked, wondering what new punishment she had in mind for Cuntmouth.

Lia handed me the tube. "You wanted to fuck an ass. Go ahead!"

I squeezed some of the clear liquid onto my fingers and smeared it onto my cock, and then onto Cuntmouth's sphincter. 

"Please! No!" Cuntmouth gasped. "Not that! Not now! Please!"

I already had a huge boner. "Go ahead!" Lia urged. 

I climbed upon Cuntmouth's back and pressed my cock into her ass crack as Cuntmouth let out the strangest noise I'd heard in a long time. 

I bore down a little, then a little more, and then my hard member slid in. Oh man! The feeling was so tight! I began pumping my hips up and down when Lia climbed up on me and sat on my butt, pushing my cock so deep into Cuntmouth's asshole. 

Lia bounced on me in a steady rhythm, and I didn't have to do any work. I exploded into Cuntmouth's ass over and over again until I finally collapsed onto her back. Then Lia collapsed onto my back and nibbled on my ear. Life is good!

Lia and I finally slid off Cuntmouth, but she was strangely quiet. "God! We didn't kill her, did we?" I asked.

Lia put her ear to Cuntmouth's back. "Naw, she's still breathing. Her heart's still beating." Lia lifted her head up and thumbed her eyelid open. "She just passed out."

"Oh," I said with a sigh of relief. 

"Don't tell me you still care about her," Lia said.

"No! Of course not!" I said.

Lia dropped Cuntmouth's head. "I guess we have to wait for her to come to before we can have breakfast now. Sucks! We'll have to punish her for that."

"Yes, we will," I agreed.

The following day, Lia released Cuntmouth so that she could clean and vacuum the house while we watched TV. I gasped when I saw the deep red slice that ran down from her collarbone to her crotch where the sharp wood edge had been cutting into her for the past 24 hours. She was obviously still in severe pain as she walked stiffly while setting up the vacuum cleaner. 

"She's turning out to be a good slave," I said.

"You have to know how to treat them," Lia said. "When someone wants to be a slave, you can't treat the person like a regular lover that you just do kinky sex with once in a while." 

"I see," I said, though I didn't mention that Kathy being our slave was originally Lia's idea.

"But Cuntmouth doesn't really know what it means to be a slave," said Lia.

"No?"

"She probably thinks that if it doesn't work out, she can break up with us."

"Well," I said, "She can't, right? No way that chain's coming off her neck without cutting her head off!" I laughed.

"That's true. The chain is too heavy to cut with a bolt cutter or hack saw. She might be able to cut off the loose chain hanging from her neck with a blowtorch, but the chain around her neck might as well be a permanent part of her anatomy now. And that's part of the psychology of enslaving her. She knows there's no going back. But it still takes time to truly enslave someone. In time, she'll take it for granted that she's our slave, and it's not her choice any more whether to be a slave or not. We will truly own her, then." 

"I like that," I said and kissed Lia while the vacuum cleaner hummed in the next room. 

"And there's still something else left to do," said Lia.

"What?"

"You'll see. We'll have fun doing it to her, too!"

Later in the evening, I found out what "it" was. We strapped Cuntmouth face down back onto the sawhorse, over her begging and pleading not to.

Lia produced several X-Acto knives in a plastic jar of rubbing alcohol, and began the long tedious job of marking her upper arm. Cuntmouth screeched and bucked while Lia painstakingly carved each block letter, "Slave Cuntmouth: property of Lia and Tim." Lia offered to let me carve some of the lettering, but I was getting queasy at all the blood. At least, after each letter, I took the knife into the bathroom and rinsed it off and returned it to the alcohol for Lia to use again." 

As if Cuntmouth didn't scream and struggle when Lia carved her, she did with extra ferocity when Lia wiped the lettering with a cloth soaked in the alcohol.

But we weren't finished yet.

Lia brought out a high-power soldering iron that we had bought from _Radio Shack._ I wondered what we bought that for. Lia told me to slowly trace over the lettering with the hot iron. There won't be as much blood doing that. 

There wasn't much blood, but, man! Did the smell of burning flesh _stink!_ Lia explained to me while I was doing this, that, unlike tattoos, no medical procedure could remove our brand. From now on, her own body would shout to the world that her name was "Cuntmouth" and that she belonged to me and Lia as our slave.

A few days later, we then took Cuntmouth to a D/s tattoo artist and had a tattoo placed on her other arm. Lia and I pretty much knew what we wanted on Cuntmouth's arm. So when we looked through the tattoo guy's catalog, we spotted it right away. It was a red heart with "Lia and Tim" in blue lettering. 

At that, Cuntmouth was pretty well established as our property.

### PART 4 ###

Lia and I were in our second month of living together. She and I had just done the wild thing, and after going into Cuntmouth to have her pussy licked clean, she had dozed off after a bit of snuggling. I was lying in bed thinking about the whole situation. I was amazed that our bizarre relationship was actually working out. Fucking Lia was always a strenuous workout, and I had to take a shit. 

Crawling out of bed, I made my way to Cuntmouth's room. She lay naked on a pile of old blankets in the middle of the room with her wrists shackled behind her back and her chain attached to the eyebolt in the floor with only a couple of chain links between the bolt and her neck. She must have fallen asleep immediately after licking Lia clean. I kicked her in the shin, startling her awake and evoking a muffled screech from her. "Wake up, bitch. I have to shit." 

I returned to bed a few minutes later while she struggled to choke down a particularly large lump. 

I must have dozed off, for I was awakened by the sound of a chain jingling with Lia and Cuntmouth in bed on either side of me. Lia and I occasionally brought Cuntmouth into bed with us after having her thoroughly wash and sanitize her mouth. 

"Get on him," I heard Lia say to Cuntmouth. I wondered what Lia was up to, while I pretended to still be asleep. Cuntmouth straddled my back and sat on my shoulders. 

An instant later, Lia wrapped a chain around my neck, and clamped it snugly around my neck with her Lock-Jaw. "Lia!" I screamed. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I realized soon after we moved in together that I really don't like sharing power, Dickface."

"Dickface?"

"That's your name now. You're now my slave, too. Get used to it."

I tried to get up, but Cuntmouth had me pinned under her ass, and I had no leverage to move.

Lia got out of bed and yanked my chain. "Help me with him, Cuntmouth," she said.

The two women grabbed the chain and pulled me by the neck into Cuntmouth's room and padlocked the chain but just a couple of links to the eyebolt. 

Lia said to Cuntmouth, "I feel like some girl-on-girl. C'mon Cuntmouth." Then Lia took Cuntmouth's hand and headed back into the bedroom. 

Shit!

### PART 5 ###

I had grown used to being Lia's slave. Like Cuntmouth, I had passed out when they carved Lia's name as my owner in my arm, and then burned it in with the soldering iron. My tattoo of two nude women French-kissing and fondling each other's breasts had scarred over and the scabs were starting to come loose. 

I had given a lot of planning to how I might escape. But Lia was very careful to keep my chain padlocked to some other chain or some other eyebolt at every moment. I'm going to lose my job if I don't show up, or at least call in with a plausible explanation of where I'd been for the past couple of weeks. And what's going to happen when I stop paying my bills? I'm screwed! 

And I'd be stuck with this chain collar around my neck for the rest of my life. Yes, I could cut the excess chain off with a blowtorch, but I could think of no tool that could cut the heavy steel chain off from around my neck without killing me. 

But it was funny in a way--there was a strange sensation of complacency in knowing that I had no stress or responsibilities of life any more. It felt good in a way.

Still, my arms were killing me from having been Lia's footstool for most of the morning while Cuntmouth vacuumed around us. Then Lia had Cuntmouth join her sitting on my back. The two of them put a double-ended dildo in their two cunts, and fucked each other cunt-to-cunt while riding my back. When I collapsed, Lia put me on that sawhorse and whipped me on the back with her bullwhip. I woke on the floor in the evening, chained to that eyebolt. My back felt like it was on fire! A straight, thin, red welt ran down the front of my body from my collarbone to my cock. The slightest movement sent daggers through my whole body. 

I heard a chain jingling. Cuntmouth had crawled over to me. "Cu..." I started to say but the pain shut me up.

"Shhhh," she whispered. I felt her hands on my back rubbing something cold and soothing on my back. 

"What?" I gasped.

She whispered, "Shhh, I still have some of that _Savlon_ left that you gave me. I kept it hidden in my blankets. But remember: we mustn't tell Mistress Lia, okay?"

"I won't, C--Kathy. I guarantee it."

Kathy snuggled against my back after hiding her _Savlon_ again, and I dozed off in her arms. 

Lia came in some time later, waking us. "I have to shit. Which of you is more hungry?"

I was starving. I bet Kathy was, too. Before, both Lia and I had been feeding Kathy. Now, Lia, alone, fed Kathy and me, alternating between the two of us with each shit. 

"I'm starving, Mistress Lia! You have to give us real food." Cathy said.

"Me too, Mistress Lia! You can't feed the both of us by yourself. Please!" I said.

"Okay!" Lia clapped her hands and smiled. "I know how to solve this! I will feed Dickface. Dickface will feed Cuntmouth. Problem solved." 

My eyes met Cathy's. I knew what Lia meant. From Cathy's stare, she did too. 

I didn't puke any more after Lia pissed or shit. But later, when I shit, Kathy puked it up into the pail. As Kathy already knew from her own shit, second-hand shit came out all yellow, and watery, and exceptionally stinky. 

Kathy wiped her mouth off as best she could on one of the old blankets, and crawled into my arms. 

I slept so soundly, and woke in the morning still in Kathy's embrace. My pain eased, and I rolled over to face Kathy.

Without a word, I kissed her, which she accepted. Her breath smelled like shit, but so did mine, so what difference did it make? I felt my erection grow as I crawled down her body and suckled on one of her nipples while I stroked her muff, which she welcomed by spreading her legs. 

"Fuck me, Tim," Kathy whispered. "I haven't been fucked by a man in such a long time." 

She rolled onto her back and I climbed on her and slid my cock into her soaking pussy. She squeezed my cock so tightly with her pussy muscles. I almost forgot that he had that wonderful talent. I could feel the pressure swelling in my loins and I was on the verge of coming.

Then Mistress Lia walked in. "How sweet," she said. "Get off her, Dickface. I feel like some cock."

Before I could react on my own, Lia yanked my chain and pulled me of Kathy and led me into her bedroom. Lia fell back into bed and spread her legs. "Eat me," she commanded.

I crawled between her legs and ate her to the best of my ability, drawing her clit into my mouth and sucking on it like it was a lollipop. "Ooooh! You're _so_ good at that, Dickface!"

I brought her to climax and played her like a trumpet with the tiny nub that was her clit deep in my mouth. After I had satisfied her orally, she said, "Now fuck me."

I climbed upon her and slid my hungry member into her moist pussy. I was still on the verge of coming, and instantly flooded her with my hot seed. 

After my erection faded, she pushed me off her and let me back to my cell with Kathy, where she reattached my chain to the eyebolt. She went over to Kathy and squatted upon Kathy's face to have her pussy licked clean, then returned to her bed. 

I couldn't face Kathy after our lovemaking was interrupted so that I could make love to Lia. I felt so terrible. I just crawled onto the floor and cried. 

I heard Kathy's chain jingle, and she cuddled behind me again. "Shhh. It's okay Tim. I understand."

I rolled and faced Kathy and smiled at her. "Thanks, Kathy. You're a good person." 

"Can you get it up again? For me now?"

"I don't think so. Not right away. Maybe in an hour or so. Let's hope she sleeps late today."

"Yes, let's. I still love you, Tim," Kathy whispered.

"I love you too, Kathy," I answered. It was like déjà vu all over again.

* END *