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Full

By: brig01



She said she wanted two.

I knew immediately what she meant. We'd been with a woman, by that point, and she'd loved that, feeling bare breasts behind her, on her shoulder blades, while smoother hands, smaller fingers slipped around her waist, over her belly, straying over her upraised nipples. She'd felt a soft, whiskerless face kissing up her thigh, dipping a timid tongue inside her. She'd tasted her. She'd drunk of her deeply while my cock felt new places opening up inside her as she came, harder than usual.

So she'd had all that.

Now she wanted two.

Not two women. Two cocks. I knew it just by the way she said it, and by the fact that she was holding my cock in her hand at the time. She'd just finished sliding it into her mouth, and, taking it out, she'd studied it, run her hand along the shaft, pondered the throb that came when her thumb pressed gently at the sweet spot just beneath the head.

"Mmm," she said, stroking me, peering up at me from the position she'd taken on her knees. "I want two."

I smiled. "Why?"

She sucked me again, and I gasped. "I want to feel... full," she said. "Really full. Like Suzy felt."

Suzy was a girl we knew who'd done it. Suzy had done everything. Some people laughed at this. We knew better. We were envious.

"OK," I said. "Who?"

***

Turns out, she already had someone. She was practical that way. He was someone I half knew and didn't dislike--the perfect degree of acquaintance for this sort of thing.

We met in a hotel, because hotels, as everyone knows, are meant for this sort of thing. Spend more than six days in a hotel, and you'll fuck someone there, it's as inevitable as clean sheets and the bar of soap that arrives to replace yesterday's.

We had drinks in the hotel bar, laughed a little, stared a lot, and went upstairs still sucking bits of lime out of our teeth.

The bed was enormous. It looked insurmountable.

But she was on it in no time. She was small, and the bed made her look smaller. She knew this. Her skirt flipped up as she swiveled around, and it quickly became clear that she'd elected not to wear panties.

Under her skirt, her hand disappeared, worked some digital legerdemain we could only see on her face. "Oh," she said, closing her eyes, "I'm so small, so small, I don't know how you'll both ever fit, oh, how will you both ever, ever fit inside me..."

It wasn't a question.

His hand was near his zipper. I realized mine was too.

She looked at me. "Can I suck him?" I nodded. "Will you suck me?" I nodded again.

And so.

He removed his pants, shirt, and socks (not one for undressing protocol, this man), and produced a cock of good size and proportion, and her mouth opened slightly, a gesture of appreciation. He was on his knees on the bed, cock in hand, moving to her mouth. I dropped to my knees at the edge of the bed, hands on her knees, parting thighs, kissing higher, testing, teasing, finding her favorite places again, as if it were the first time, because, in a strange way, it was. Her moans different this time, stifled against a mouthful of his cock.

And he watched me eat her, watched her swallow him, and I could tell he was already having trouble holding back. And I knew from her rhythms, she was closing in as well, coming to that place where the swift penetration thrilled her most.

"How do you want it?"

"Mmm."

"How?"

She gasped, barely intelligible. "Front and back."

I looked at him. Even at near orgasm, he understood.

Just in case, I tested her, plunged my tongue deep inside her, felt her contract around me as I went in, and then, a little more gently, tentatively, I moved the hand cupping her ass lower, slid a finger between her cheeks, down, let the tip come to rest on the hard ring of her asshole. She opened immediately, took me in, her wetness soaking me. Yes, I thought, she's ready.

I raised myself up, lost my pants and shirt in what seemed like a single fluid motion. She stopped sucking him, sat up herself, and took me by the shoulders.

"I want you in my ass. Do you understand why?"

"Yes," I said. "I do."

She looked ay him. "Lie down," she commanded. "I'm going to fuck you now."

Like any sane man, he obeyed.

She climbed onto him, reached behind her to lift his cock into position, rubbed the head against her lips (he was glistening, stamenlike, with precum), and, a little abruptly, took him inside.

"Oh God," he gasped, and I knew why--her cunt was as tighter than a fist around any reasonably hard cock. She gasped too, and then bent over, bit his neck. Her asshole glistened just above the point of penetration, where the base of his shaft was visible held tight in her glistening folds. Somehow, to me, his balls looked positively anguished with expectation. I knew I had to move.

I climbed on top of them, on her back, using arms and knees at turns to keep my whole weight off them. Wet with precum, I slid my cock down the furrow of her ass until I felt her sweet, strong little ring against the head. Already, she was arching her back, and with the weight of my own body and the sweet, ineluctable ease of her natural lubrication, maneuvering me inside.

And with not even a push from me, the head of my cock slipped past that strong muscle of hers, which seemed simultaneously happy to welcome me and intent on pushing me out.

Anyone who was fucked in the ass knows the feeling I'm talking about. But oh, combine that with the added tightness of another body inhabiting the adjacent space, the feeling of someone else's rhythms, someone else's fucking, just inches away. We were, for those moments, all three of us fucking one another, three beings in one phase, the sheer coordination of the act amazing, overwhelming. Her gasps became moans, near screams of pleasure, she took me deeper, I fucked her gently, in shallow strokes, and she, in turn, rode him.

I felt her start to shudder. Through her, I started to feel him throb.

Within me, I felt my own climax building.

To say we filled her isn't nearly enough. The force of his ejaculation triggered her final orgasm, and the compounded feeling of both of them brought me mine.

She would say later that she could feel both of us emptying ourselves into her. She said it was hard to stay in her own body at that moment. She said she wasn't sure there was room.

Full



Full…she'd never felt this full before.

* * *

When He called this afternoon and gave her instructions on how to prepare herself, she knew He had something special planned for tonight. Not in a million years would she have guessed that it would end up like it did.

After hanging up the phone, she had walked into the bathroom and ran a nice hot bubble bath. Before slipping into the tub she waxed her legs, under her arms, and around His fuck hole, making sure she was completely bare and smooth, just the way He required. Just the way He'd specified on the phone.

Satisfied that she had not missed a single spot, she lowered herself into the steaming bubbles, laying back for a moment to luxuriate in the feeling of the warmth surrounding her. As she took the bath sponge and began running it down over her body, cleansing herself for Him, she shut her eyes and let her mind drift. It was His fingers she felt tracing around her nipples, over the plain of her tummy, between her silky thighs to stroke the swelling lips of her cunt. As her finger lightly touched the engorged bud of her clit, she felt an electric shock shoot through her. With a loud gasp she snapped open her eyes and yanked her hand away from her cunt. An unauthorized orgasm would only serve to displease Him.

Finishing up her bath quickly, she tried to ignore the throbbing between her legs. As she stepped out of the tub, she grabbed a large fluffy towel off the rack and dried herself briskly, mind once again wandering to all the times He'd dried her. It was always rough, but she could feel the tenderness underlying His motions. Wrapping the towel around her, she padded off to the bedroom to continue preparing herself for the events to come.

Letting the towel drop to the floor, she stood before the full-length mirror on the back of the door and studied her reflection. Sighing and shaking her head, she turned away from the mirror and walked across the bedroom to the dressing table.

"I still say I'm fifteen pounds overweight!" she mumbled to herself. "That means He's wrong, even if He is the Master!"

Pulling open the top drawer of the ornate wooden jewelry box, she saw the gold nipple clips with the tiny pink crystal tear drops hanging from them. Taking one between her fingers, she lifted it up to her right breast, brushing her nipple with the tips of her the fingers of her left hand until it stiffened and lengthened, then slipping the clip around the swollen bud. It pinched lightly at her nipple…not painfully, but enough to remind her it was there. As if the weight of the crystal teardrop would let her forget!

With a little flick of her fingers, she started the teardrop swaying, pulling at her nipple, then reached into the box and removed the twin. A moment later both of her nipples were adorned with the jewelry. Next she removed the thin gold choker from around her neck and placed it in the bottom drawer of the jewelry box, taking up the one and a half inch black leather collar with the D-ring in front and putting it around her throat in its place.

A quick glance at the clock revealed that she was almost out of time. His car would be pulling into the garage any moment, and she was expected to be kneeling in front of the garage door, waiting for Him, when He entered the house. Quickly slipping her feet into the three-inch stiletto heeled "fuck me" shoes, she made her way back down the stairs and dropped to her knees in front of the door leading to the garage just as she heard the automatic door close behind His car.

A moment later, the door swung open and He stepped inside, smiling at her as He spotted her in her kneel, awaiting Him. He took one step towards her, shutting the door behind Him, and ran His fingers into her thick ash-blonde hair, tightening His grip and yanking her head back so her face turned up towards Him. He bent down and kissed her roughly, sucking her lower lip into His mouth and chewing lightly on it.

After a moment He pulled back from the kiss, releasing her hair from His grip. He grinned down at her, a wicked twinkle in His eye, then stepped around her.

"Wait here…I'll be back down in a few minutes." He commanded over His shoulder as He left the kitchen and headed up the stairs to the bedroom.

Obediently, she remained kneeling in front of the garage door. After a moment she heard the sound of the shower. Shutting her eyes, she pictured Him under the spray of the showerhead, His strong rough hands lathering His body. As the sounds of the water ceased, she visualized Him stepping from the tub and drying Himself, then applying His deodorant, followed by the cologne that He knew drove her wild.

Ten minutes later she heard Him coming back down the stairs two at a time. He walked back into the kitchen and stopped in front of her. Eyes cast down, she kept her gaze locked on the toes of His shiny black shoes.

"Stand, slut." He growled at her. In one fluid motion she raised from her kneel to a standing position before Him, and felt her breath catch momentarily at the sight of Him.

He stood before her in His white dinner jacket and black tuxedo pants. His fingers worked to fasten the top button of His ribbed shirt as He caught her gaze in His. He held the bow tie out to her.

"Fix it." He commanded. Taking a step closer to Him, breathing in His cologne and the masculine scent of Him beneath it, she placed the tie around His neck, under His collar, and busied herself tying it for Him. When she was finished, she took a step back from Him again, drinking Him in with her eyes.

He grinned at her.

"Do you like what you see, slut?" He asked.

"Wow." Was all she managed to reply. 

He chuckled and walked around her, into the living room and to the closet by the front door. Risking a quick peek over her shoulder, she saw Him taking His trench coat off of the hanger. As He started to turn back towards her, she quickly directed her attention forward again, locking her eyes on a pattern in the wood grain on the garage door.

"This is what you'll be wearing tonight, slut." He whispered to her as He draped the trench coat around her smooth shoulders. Biting her lower lip, she managed to keep from protesting. He opened the door and reached inside the garage, removing the gold chain leash from the hook on the wall and turning back towards her.

"Kneel." He commanded, and she quickly dropped back onto her knees, head held high, eyes cast down. He took a step towards her and leaned over, hooking the leash to the D-ring on the front of her collar. Then He turned and walked down the step into the garage, giving the leash a tug to pull her along on her hands and knees behind Him.

He led her around to the passenger side of the car and pulled open the door, stepping aside to allow her to crawl up into the seat and arrange herself in a sitting position. Before shutting the door, He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss, pulling the trench coat shut in the front to keep her covered. 

After pulling the garage door shut, He slid behind the wheel of the car next to her. With a quick flick of His wrist the engine roared to life. In the passenger side view mirror she could see the automatic door raising behind the car as He shifted into reverse and pulled down the driveway. He pulled onto the street and pointed the nose of the car in the direction of the city.

"Master?" she asked hesitantly, her voice barely a whisper. He glanced over at her and grinned.

"Patience, slut…you'll learn soon enough what I have in store for you."

Taking a deep breath, knowing that she was pushing her luck, she began again.

"Master…may Your slut inquire as to what is expected of her tonight, Sir?"

"Obedience, slut. Plain and simple. I expect you to make Me proud. Understood?"

"Yes, Master. Pleasing You and making You proud is what Your slut strives for always, Sir."

"Good girl." He told her with a smile, reaching over and placing His right hand on her left thigh. As He merged the car onto the freeway, she felt His fingers caressing the inside of her thigh, sliding up until they lightly brushed the swollen lips of her cunt. His strong fingers parted her lips, and she felt Him exploring her wetness, pad of His middle finger brushing lightly over the throbbing jewel of her clit.

Pressing herself back against the seat, she slid her hips forward slightly, opening herself to Him. As she leaned her head back and closed her eyes, her breathing grew heavier, letting Him know the effect He was having on her. The interior of the car was filled with the perfume of her musk.

He continued teasing her with one hand, knowing exactly how to keep her on the very edge of orgasm without pushing her over. He could see her squirming slightly in her seat, and every time she tried to press herself against His fingers, He would withdraw them just out of reach of her hungry cunt and aching clit.

Without realizing how much time had passed, uncertain whether it had been only a few minutes or a tortured eternity, she felt His hand move from between her thighs and the car slow to a stop. Opening her eyes, she realized they were deep in the heart of the city, parked at the curb in front of what appeared to be a darkened and abandoned warehouse.

He opened the door of the car and slid out, and she saw Him walking around the front of the vehicle until He stood next to her door. He opened it and reached in, grabbing the leash hanging from her collar and giving it a sharp tug to guide her from the car.

"Upright." He ordered, and she exited the car to stand before Him. He reached towards her and pulled the trench coat closed again. Mortified, she realized that the coat had fallen open during the drive, and wondered how many truck drivers had gotten a view of her jewelry-adorned breasts.

He turned towards the steel front door of the warehouse, yanking on the leash to pull her along behind Him. Stumbling on her stiletto heels, she followed along a pace behind and slightly to His right. He paused before the door and gave three short, quick raps on the steel.

A window in the door slid open, revealing a pair of scrutinizing blue eyes.

"Hephaestus." He said, repeating the evening's password.

The heavy door swung open and He walked through it, pulling on the leash to drag her along behind Him. The door clanged shut behind them, and the owner of the blue eyes, a short man with a shock of white hair, straightened himself and turned to them.

"Good evening, Sir. The O/others have already arrived and are awaiting you in the Master's chamber. May I take the lady's wrap, Sir?"

"You may, Bishop." He answered the man, pulling the trench coat from her shoulders and leaving her exposed before the club steward. He handed the trench coat over to Bishop, who took it and folded it over his arm.

"May I bring You anything, Sir?" Bishop asked.

"My usual, Bishop…and a cigar." He answered.

"Macanudo Maduro Rothschild, Sir?" asked Bishop.

He chuckled.

"You are truly a treasure to this club, Bishop. Perhaps someday this slut will be able to anticipate My needs and desires as well as you."

Eyes still cast down, she felt the heat of a deep blush creeping over her creamy skin at His comment to the steward regarding her shortcomings. Making a mental note of His cigar preference, she wished that Bishop had mentioned what His "usual" drink was, as well, so she would be better able to serve Him as He required.

He turned to her, placing His hands on either side of her face and turning it up to His, looking into her deep brown eyes.

"Obedience tonight. Remember that."

Eyes wide, she nodded back at Him.

"Bitch." He said to her, using His command word indicating she should assume the position of His bitch in heat. Obediently, she dropped to her hands and knees, ass held high and thighs spread wide enough apart to reveal her swollen, dripping cunt.

He slid a magna-card through a reader next to a black door, then pushed it open, pulling on the leash to lead her as He walked through. Through the dim light provided by hanging candle chandeliers and torches flickering on the wall, she took in the surroundings and the other people in the room.

There were half a dozen other couples in the room already waiting for them. Five of the couples consisted of Men, dressed much the same way as her Master was, accompanied by nude female slaves on leashes. One of the other couples, however, consisted of a Woman in an elegant evening gown. At the end of her leash kneeled a young man, probably no more than 23 or 24, with a shock of thick blond hair and penetrating blue eyes. Like the female slaves accompanying the Masters, he was completely nude, his cock hard and jutting out from his body. A leather harness seemed to be wrapped around his cock and testicles, preventing the blood flow from escaping, ensuring he would remain hard until his Mistress gave permission for him to cum or go soft.

The Master's and Mistress all greeted Him as they entered the room. He returned Their greetings, then looked down at her.

"Greet your betters, slut." He commanded. Raising up into a kneel, she kept her eyes locked on the floor.

"This slut greets all the handsome Masters and the lovely Mistress," she said, her voice sounding small and tremulous in her own ears.

He reached out and stroked His fingers through her hair, murmuring the words "Good girl" to her as He petted her like one would a beloved dog. At His words of approval, she couldn't suppress a small smile.

He led her over to an overstuffed chair, where He sat. Knowing what was expected of her, she kneeled at His feet. Seemingly out of nowhere Bishop materialized, holding a try upon which sat a double old fashioned glass containing some amber liquid and a long black cigar, the end already snipped for Him.

He took the drink from the tray and set it on the table next to His chair. Then He took up the cigar. He gave the leash a sharp tug, and she looked up at Him questioningly.

"Stand." He said. Gracefully she raised from her kneel to stand before Him, feet shoulder width apart to allow Him access to the treasure between her thighs which He owned.

He reached between her legs and parted her labia, then slid the cigar between her swollen cunt lips, letting her flowing juices coat the dark tobacco wrapper. After it was thoroughly coated with her nectar, He pulled it from between her cunt lips and placed it in His mouth, savoring the musky flavor of her on it.

Bishop magically produced a silver butane lighter and held the flame just in front of the cigar. He inhaled deeply, puffing on the cigar, until the tip glowed bright red. He exhaled a thick mouthful of bluish smoke and looked at her.

"Return to your position, slut." He told her. Dropping back to her kneel, she once more focused her gaze on a spot in the center of the floor. Out of the corners of her eyes, she could see that the Masters and Mistress had all taken seats arranged in a semi-circle around the room, leaving the spot in the center of the floor open. Open for what was her only question.

He puffed on His cigar for a few minutes, making idle conversation with the other Dominants in the room. The slaves all remained silent, except when addressed by their Master or Mistress. Then they would quickly and quietly answer the question asked of them, returning immediately to silence afterwards.

Finally He rose, tugging on her leash to indicate that she should follow. Dropping back to her hands and knees, she crawled after Him as He led her over to the Master seated closest to them. He paused before the Man and looked down on her, giving the leash a sharp yank to draw her attention to His face.

"This is Master Richard." He informed her. "I am giving you to Him, to do as He commands. When He is finished with you, you will crawl over to Master Thomas, then to Master James, then to Master Benjamin, then to Mistress Elisabeth, and finally over to Master Eric. Each One will control you until They release you to the next, and you will do whatever They command. When Master Eric finishes with you, you will crawl to the center of the room and beg permission to return to My feet. Understand?"

"Yes, Master." she whispered, the implications of His command hitting her suddenly. He reached down and removed the leash from her collar, then grabbed a fistful of her hair and handed it over to Master Richard.

Master Richard took the shank of her hair and pulled her closer to Him, between His legs. He looked down at her, His brown eyes boring into her.

"Let's see how well you use that mouth of yours, slut." He commanded, yanking on her hair to pull her head down into His lap.

Knowing from the training her Master had given her what was expected, she quickly grasped the fly of His tuxedo trousers between her teeth and moved her head to slip the hook loose. When the fly was open, she buried her face in His lap, feeling His stiff cock through the rough wool fabric of His trousers, and caught the zipper between her teeth. With a single fluid motion, she pulled the zipper down. Master Richard wore no underpants, and His long, thin cock, the veins bulging out along the sides of it, jerked up and out of His pants.

Extending her pink tongue, she licked the first drops of pre-cum from the head of His cock, exploring the slit with the tip of her tongue. His hands tightened in her hair, and she took the head of His cock into her mouth, sucking on it like a lollipop. Tongue swirling, she bathed the head, then began slowly working her way down the length of His shaft.

He used His hand knotted in her hair to guide her head…forcing it down as He thrust His hips forward…driving the length of His cock into her mouth. With a moan around His shaft, she sucked hungrily at it, feeling the swollen head nudging the back of her throat. As she continued to suck at Him, His hand in her hair guiding her movements, she reached out and cradled His hairy ball sac in her hand, massaging them. He was not as thick as her Master, but He was longer. It took all her mental control to keep from gagging as the head of His cock buried itself in her tight throat.

Master Richard grabbed hold of her hair with both hands, holding her head in place as He began wildly thrusting His hips. He fucked her mouth fast and deep, driving the head of His cock in and out of her tight throat. As He thrust, she busily licked at the thick vein on the underside of His shaft, bathing it. Knowing He was getting close to cumming, she tightened her mouth around His shaft and began to suck more vigorously, longing to be fed by this Master.

Just as He was about to erupt, filling her mouth with His hot seed, He yanked back on her hair. His cock pulled free from her mouth with a popping sound. With a deep groan, He exploded, coating her face and neck with His cum. Some of His jism caught in her hair, dripping from it to land on the slope of her left breast, where she felt it sliding slowly down towards the dangling crystal teardrop hanging there.

Master Richard sank back into His chair, spent, and tugged on her hair to pull her face into His lap again.

"Lick it clean, slut." He rasped at her. Obediently she extended her tongue, licking up and down His softening cock, tasting His salty seed sliding down her throat. When she was finished, He shoved her away, pulling His hand roughly from her now tangled ash blonde locks.

"I release you, slut…crawl to Master Thomas now and find out what He demands of you."

As she dropped back onto her hands and knees to crawl over to the next Master, she caught a glimpse of Master Richard's slave smiling proudly at her. Crawling towards the chair of Master Thomas, she couldn't help but smile back.

Reaching Master Thomas' chair, she stopped and raised herself back into kneeling position. He looked down at her, and she stole a quick glance up through golden lashes, seeing His pale blue eyes inspecting her.




Full



"I think I should like to sample that cunt We've heard so much about, slut. Lay back and present yourself to Me!"

Leaning back until her head rested on the carpeted floor, hair fanning out around her face, she felt her shoulders lay back flat. In one motion she kicked her legs from the kneeling position so that the stiletto heels and soles of her shoes rested flat on the carpet, her knees bent and spread wide apart to reveal her cunt to Master Thomas. Arching her back, she raised her cunt to give Him a better view.

"Play with it for Us, slut." Master Thomas commanded.

Slowly she slid her hands down her body, over her tummy, until her fingers lightly grazed the swollen lips of her fuck hole. The memory of how she had touched herself in the bath earlier, and how He had touched her in the car on the drive to the club, filled her mind. Spreading her cunt lips with her fingers, she displayed herself to Master Thomas, softly stroking her throbbing clit with her thumb.

As her fingers continued to stroke and caress her cunt and clit, her mind emptied itself of all thoughts except those centering on the sensations rushing through her body. When she felt a rough hand on her thigh, she gasped and opened her eyes. Master Thomas, trousers open to reveal His fat average length cock, had slid from His chair and was on the carpet between her thighs.

Master Thomas covered her body with His, hands going to her breasts to pinch her nipples and flick at the tear drop crystals hanging from them, causing them to pulse with pleasure. His cock came to rest against the mouth of her sex, and she could feel her cunt contracting, trying to draw it inside. With a sharp thrust, He entered her, impaling her on His shaft, stretching her tight cunt around His fat cock.

Master Thomas thrust and thrust inside of her, stretching her velvet walls with His tool. Arching her back, she thrust back against Him, causing her clit to rub against His body with each stab of His cock inside of her. It was only a few minutes before she felt His body stiffen, and knew He was about to empty His seed inside of her.

Suddenly Master Thomas pulled out of her and raised up, grasping the base of His cock in His hand and directing it at her stomach. He pumped it once and it erupted, emptying itself on her tummy and breasts. As she felt His hot cum splatter on her body, she let out a small whimper. The realization that she was nothing more than a cum-slut, not allowed to cum until her Master gave the command dawned on her, making her need all the more desperate.

Master Thomas backed Himself once more into His chair, His trousers still open, His shriveling cock exposed.

"Lick it dry, slut." He commanded, just as she knew He would.

Raising herself back into a kneel, she moved in and used her mouth and tongue to lick T/their combined juices off of His cock. When she was finished, she rested back on her heels, eyes directed at the toes of His shoes.

"I release you, slut. Go and service Master James now."

As she crawled to the next chair, she once again caught a glimpse of the slave belonging to the Master she had just serviced smiling proudly at her. The thought crossed her mind that perhaps this was an initiation that each of them had been required to endure before being admitted into this club.

Stopping before the chair of Master James, she was surprised to find that He had stood and was waiting for her. As she concentrated on His shoes and the cuffs of His trousers, she heard a loud smack, and couldn't resist stealing a glance up through her lashes.

Master James looked down at her with cold steel grey eyes. In His right hand He clutched tightly a wooden paddle. The smack she had heard had been the sound of Him slapping the paddle against the open palm of His left hand. Gritting her teeth, knowing what He would demand of her, she awaited His command.

"Turn and prepare for punishment, slut." He growled at her.

Resisting the urge to protest or hesitate, she turned and assumed the position her Master had taught her. Resting her head on her arms folded on the carpet before her, she raised her ass high, her wet cunt exposed to Master James.

Master James raised the paddle high, and brought it down sharply across her right ass cheek. The sound of the wooden paddle connecting with her tender flesh rang like a gunshot throughout the room.

"Count them!" Master James roared.

"One, Sir!"

Master James raised the paddle again, and brought it down with equal intensity on her left ass cheek.

"Two, Sir!"

Master James continued paddling her ass, and she could feel it growing warm and red under the punishment of the paddle. The thought to ask what she was being punished for never crossed her mind. Master James felt she deserved it, and that meant it was so. Stealing a glance through her tears out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of her Master. It made her heart swell when she saw the proud smile on His handsome face.

Master James landed a savage blow across the middle of her ass, and she yelped out "Ten, Sir!", and braced herself for the next. But the next smack never came. Instead she heard the sound of Master James' zipper being yanked down, and a moment later felt the hot splatter of His cum on her ass and back.

Spent, Master James collapsed back into His chair, tucking His cock back into His trousers and zipping them back up.

"I release you, slut. Move one." He coldly intoned.

Biting her lip at the pain radiating through her buttocks, she lifted herself back onto her hands and knees and crawled to the next chair. Without even looking, she knew that Master James' slave was smiling proudly at her just as the others had.

Master Benjamin smiled pleasantly down at her, His warm brown eyes twinkling.

"Is that sweet little ass of yours nice and hot, slut?" He asked her.

"Yes, Sir." she answered.

"Assume the same position you did for Master James, little one." Master Benjamin told her. "I need to test the depth of your ass."

Grimacing slightly to herself, she turned to face the center of the room once more, and once more rested her head on her folded arms, raising her ass high to provide Master Benjamin access to her.

Master Benjamin sank to His knees behind her, reaching out to run His right hand up the inside of her thigh, over the swollen lips of her cunt. He coated His fingers in her juices, then slid them up to press them into her ass, lubricating her. His left hand, meanwhile, unhooked His trousers and eased down His zipper. He coated the fingers of His left hand with her nectar, then stroked His cock a couple of times, lubricating it. A moment later she felt the head of His cock pressing against the tight star muscle of her ass.

Taking a deep breath and willing herself to relax, she braced for the penetration. Master had taken her this way several times, and though she couldn't tell how large Master Benjamin's cock was compared to Masters, she could tell that Master Benjamin did not have a Prince Albert piercing like her Master.

Master Benjamin placed His hands on her hips and pulled back slowly on them as He rocked His hips forward, easing His cock into her. When just the head was inside, He stroked back, then rocked forward again, pressing a bit more of His cock into her tight ass, stretching it out. Slowly, He pressed into her…until three-quarters of His cock was buried in her ass. Then He slowly stroked back again, leaving only the head inside.

Burying her face in her arms, she braced, knowing what was coming. His slow stretching of her had let her know that He was not as large as her Master, but she knew it would still be a shock when He thurst forward.

And thrust forward He did. Master Benjamin pulled back sharply on her hips, forcing her down on His cock while at the same time He thrust His hips forward…driving into her. His hips slapped against her welted ass, sending fingers of pain stabbing through her, as Master Benjamin stroked in and out of her, fucking her tight ass, taking her with an intensity His pleasant smile earlier had betrayed.

Just as she knew He would, Master Benjamin suddenly pulled out of her ass. The sensation of His hot cum pouring out on her welts forced a quick sob from her throat.

Master Benjamin eased Himself back into His chair.

"Turn and face Me, slut." He said.

Lifting herself from the floor, she turned, hoping desperately that Master Benjamin would not expect her to lick Him clean. Glancing up through thick lashes, she saw Master Benjamin look over at her Master. With a quick shift of her eyes, she caught sight of her Master shaking His head emphatically 'NO'. Master Benjamin sighed, then turned back to her.

"I release you now, little one. Go to Mistress Elisabeth."

As she turned to crawl away, she saw Master Benjamin's hand grab a fistful of His slaves hair and pull her around to bury her face in His lap, licking Him clean. But not before His slave had a chance to give her an encouraging wink and smile.

Resuming her kneeling position in front of Mistress Elisabeth's chair, she was surprised when the woman reached out and caressed her cheek, smoothing her cum matted hair back from her face.

"My, aren't you a pretty one." She said, placing Her hand under her chin and lifting her eyes up. Mistress Elisabeth had the most beautiful green eyes she had ever seen.

Mistress Elisabeth sat back and raised up the hem of her evening gown, rolling it up carefully until the neatly shaved tufted heart of hair surrounding the pouty lips of her sex was revealed.

"Come here, pretty one. This won't be so awful for you, I don't think."

Suppressing a grin, she moved between Mistress Elisabeth's thighs. Though she knew she was still being tested, she couldn't help but consider this a gift from her Master. He knew how much she enjoyed being with another woman.

Mistress Elisabeth stroked Her fingers gently into her hair and guided her face to the lips of Her cunt. As she began to lick, nibble and suck at the Mistress' hot, delicious sex, Mistress Elisabeth arched forward in Her chair, grinding Her body against the hungry mouth.

With increasing vigor she licked at the Mistress, sucking Her clit into her mouth, nibbling on it as she bathed it with her tongue. Mistress Elisabeth's hand in her hair continued to stroke and caress her head, urging her on. It was evident by Mistress Elisabeth's movements on the seat of Her chair that She was about to cum, flooding her mouth and tongue with the nectar she so desperately hungered for.

Mistress Elisabeth let out a little cry, followed by a prolonged moan as She ground Her cunt against her lapping tongue and sucking lips. As the flood of juices poured forth from the Mistress, she licked them up, drinking them down as though she was dying of thirst.

After a moment, Mistress Elisabeth pushed her gently away. Reluctantly, she pulled back, resuming her kneel, and taking a chance by looking up at Her, smiling. Mistress Elisabeth smiled back at her.

"It would seem you are everything your Master said, and more, My dear. Proceed to Master Eric now."

Giving Mistress Elisabeth another warm smile, then smiling at Mistress Elisabeth's slave, as well, she dropped back onto all fours and crawled to Master Eric, the final station on her journey.

Master Eric was standing waiting for her when she arrived at His chair. Reaching out, He grabbed a fistful of her hair, and pulled her up and into His chair. Then He took leather restraints from a bag next to the chair and bound her wrists and ankles tight. The restraints forced her legs wide apart, revealing her needy cunt to the entire room.

"I am the last One you will visit before being released back to your Master, slut. Do you know why that is?"

Shaking her head, she whispered "No, Sir."

Master Eric smiled at her.

"It's because I am the clubs Master of Markings, slut. All you have endured has been an initiation. Having been found worthy to join the ranks of this club, it now falls to Me to mark you as a member, and as the property of your Master."

Master Eric knelt down in front of her and reached once more into the bag next to Him. He withdrew what she recognized as a tattoo needle gun. He plugged the gun into an outlet hidden in the floor next to His chair, and His slave turned on an electric lamp that stood next to it, directing the bright light at her cunt. He then knelt between her wide spread legs and began marking the sensitive skin of her left inner thigh.

The pain was intense, but she bit her lower lip and endured it. Master Eric continued working for over half an hour, changing the ink twice, and finally stood, inspecting His work.

"What do you think of it, girl?" Master Eric asked her.

Looking down at her thigh, she saw a deep blue "O" with a bright red "R" inside of it.

"What does it mean, Sir?" she asked quietly.

"The "O" stands for Olympus, the name of this club. The red "R" is the mark of your Master…He who owns you completely."

Master Eric placed an adhesive gauze bandage over the small tattoo, then unfastened the leather bindings around her wrists and ankles and helped her onto the floor. Sinking back into her kneel, she looked up at Him.

Smiling down at her, Master Eric reached down and unfastened His trousers, revealing His thick, swollen cock.

"It is tradition in this club to pay for your tattoo with a hand-job." He informed her.

Smiling, she moved forward, taking Master Eric's cock in her tiny hand.

"Oh, yes Sir!" she said, as she began pumping it up and down. With her other hand she fondled His hairy balls. As she pumped His cock, she varied the pressure of her grip, and made sure she paid plenty of attention to the sensitive head, running her hand over it with every third or fourth stroke.

After about five minutes, she felt His balls begin to pulse in her hand, and stroked faster. Master Eric groaned as His cock erupted, and she leaned in close, catching some of His seed on her tongue, but allowing most of it to splatter on her chin and drip down onto her breasts.

As Master Eric relaxed, He looked at her through slightly glassy eyes.

"Welcome to Olympus, slut. Go to the center of the floor and beg your Master to accept you now."

With a smile, she turned and crawled to the center of the floor, raising into a kneel and directing her gaze to her Master, her eyes full of the love and devotion she felt for Him.

"Master, Your slut begs to be allowed to approach You."

He smiled at her and stood. Instead of granting permission to approach, He walked to the center of the floor and stopped in front of her.

"Look at all the cum on you, slut…you're a mess!" He said, His voice teasing.

He turned then to face the others, but instead of addressing the Master's and Mistress, He addressed the slaves.

"Girls, come and help your sister clean herself up!" He commanded.

Quickly, the other five girls in the room crawled to the center of the floor to join T/them. Tenderly they took her in their arms, using their tongues to lick the cum of their various Master's from her body. Closing her eyes, she luxuriated in the feeling of the tender hands and soft, busy tongues running over her body, and the soft voices whispering words of encouragement and congratulations to her. It occurred to her, however, that Mistress Elisabeth's slave had been excluded from the activities.

"That's enough, girls. Return to your Masters." He said. As the other girls crawled back to where they had come from, she lay there, her cunt still throbbing needily, but her heart full of bliss at having pleased Him.

"Elisabeth, might I be permitted to use Your slave." He asked.

"Of course, Darling. Please enjoy him!" Mistress Elisabeth replied, giving her slave a pat on the back to send him to the center of the floor.

He looked down at the approaching slave.

"What is your name, boy?" He asked.

"Patrick, Sir." Came the respectful reply.

"Patrick, you are going to help Me fulfill a fantasy of My slaves. What I need you to do is lay back flat, with your cock thrust out before you. Keep your hands out to your sides, and your legs spread wide. Do you think you can do that?"

"Oh, yes Sir!" he responded, laying back as instructed and spreading his arms and legs open.

He glanced down at her, grinning, and reached out His hand. Raising up from where the other slaves had left her lying, she placed her hand in His and felt herself being pulled up. He placed His hands on her hips and guided her backwards, until she was standing directly over Patrick's engorged cock.

"Hold a moment." He told her, as He reached into the pocket of His dinner jacket and removed a tube of lubricating jelly. "Hold out your hand."

When she had held out her hand, He squeezed a dab of the jelly into her open palm.

"Take two steps back, lean over, and lubricate Patrick's cock." He told her.

Backing up until she was standing over Patrick's chest, she leaned forward and took His large, straining cock in her small hand, stroking it several times to coat it completely with the lubricating jelly. As she did this, her Master moved behind her and applied more of the jelly to her anus, working His thick fingers inside of her to ensure she was fully coated.

Raising back up, a smile on her face, she looked at her Master. He places His hands on her hips and guided her forward again, then slid His hands up to her shoulders, flicking the crystal teardrops hanging from her nipples as He passed by them. He pressed down on her shoulders, guiding her into a squatting position over Patrick's cock.

"Take his cock and guide it to your ass, slut." He command.

"Yes, Master!" she breathed, doing as directed. When the head of Patrick's cock pressed against her tight star muscle, she looked back up at her Master.

With a grin, He pressed down hard on her shoulders…driving her down on the cock of the slave beneath her. A long moan escaped from her, and she heard another moan also forced from Patrick. Not daring to move without permission, she squatted there, Patrick's cock buried in her tight ass, as she watched her Master undress.

The indomitable Bishop materialized once more from the shadows to take her Master's clothing as He shed it. When He had stripped down completely, He walked towards her. He was smiling, a glint in His eye, and she saw His cock, the Prince Albert piercing through the head catching the light, swollen and ready as He approached.

"Lay back on top of Patrick, slut!" He instructed, and she immediately did as she was told, covering Patrick's body with hers, his cock still buried in her ass, her thighs spread wide.

He dropped to His knees on the thick carpet between her thighs, and leaned over so His body hovered over hers. He covered her mouth with His, kissing her deeply, as the pierced head of His cock nudged against her tender, needy cunt.

With a sharp thrust of His hips, He drove the length of His cock into her, stretching her open, His body grinding down against her throbbing clit and forcing her onto Patrick's cock.

He stroked back, the ring caressing her g-spot, teasing her velvet walls, and thrust hard and deep into her again. With each thrust, He drove her down onto Patrick's cock. The feeling of a cock in her ass and her Master's cock in her cunt was too much. Tears streaming down her face, she pleaded with Him.

Please Master…Please let your slut cum for You, Master…only for You!"

He stroked back again until only the head of His cock remained in her spasming cunt.

"Who owns you, slut?" He demanded.

"You do, Master!" she screamed.

"MINE!" He growled, stabbing His cock into her again, conquering her cunt.

"YOURS…Always Yours!" she answered.

He stroked back and drove His cock deep inside of her once more. Writhing, she wasn't sure how much more of this she could take.




Full



"Cum for your Master, bitch…NOW!" He growled at her, thrusting His tongue deep into her mouth to choke off her scream of ecstasy, fucking her mouth with it.

As she exploded in a mind-shattering orgasm, feeling both of the cocks inside of her twitching in orgasm triggered by hers, one thought filled her mind.

Full…she'd never felt this full before!



Full Anal, At Her Request



"You know what I want...?" she said.

I had lost track of how long we had been laying there, on the bed, kissing. She kissed well, taking the probing of my tongue - sometimes gentle, sometimes urgent and forceful - and returning my strokes with her own. Now and then she bit my tongue as it danced between her teeth and I loved it, how she swirled her tongue around my own, flicking it teasingly in fluttering snake-like motions. I knew that she liked to have a cock in her mouth and really, this was what I was giving her with every stab of my tongue. A small, wet, probing little cock that penetrated her and danced and explored. And tasted.

"What do you want?" I asked. I knew that my voice was strained. She reached down and grabbed my cock. I was naked and my cock was throbbing and hard. She was wearing tight knickers and I had enjoyed pushing my cock up against the material, dry fucking her between her legs, letting my cock move against the soft skin of her thighs. Her knickers were damp, delightfully so, and it felt good to push my straining cock up against that warm damp material. I could feel her pussy beneath, open and wet. Even through the material, my cock slipped a little of the way inside her, but her panties would allow no more. 

Now, her breath soft against my skin, she began to pull gently on my cock and she kissed my neck.

Against my skin, her voice was muffled and it made my dick jump in her hand.

"I want..." She said, with mischief in her voice.

She kissed her way down a little, to my shoulders, then back up again to flick her tongue over my lips and lightly bite them, one after another. Her fingers moved through the hairs on my chest, as her other hand worked my cock, lightly, delicately. I could smell her perfume. I could smell her musky excitement.

Her mouth was on my ear, her lips brushing my earlobe while her tongue flicked lightly over me. She blew lightly in my ear and took the lobe between her teeth softly. Her voice was a whisper.

"I want your cock..."

To demonstrate, she pulled my cock in a series of quick movements, jerking me, masturbating me, keen to highlight the object of her focus. 

Her leg moved over me and I felt the lightly coarse fabric of her stocking play against my thighs, against my balls. She moved her leg up and down me, stirring the coals that glowed between us. 

Before we had fallen on the bed - before we became lost in each other - she had stripped down to her hold-ups and her knickers. At that moment, I had wanted nothing more than to cum all over her. Over her knickers, over her stockings. She looked good enough to eat. Certainly good enough to wank over. I imagined having her before me - standing, sitting, maybe laid back expectantly on the bed - and I imagined gazing at her, drinking her body with my eyes, as I wanked. She was gorgeous enough and it seemed right to use her like this. It would be pleasant to mark her, stain her with my cum. I wanted to rub my cock over her face and masturbate just centimetres before her face. She would be introduced to my cock in every detail. She would smell my dick, sweet with pre-cum, and she would hear the wet pumping as I worked towards release.

That was what I wanted, when I first saw her stripped almost bare.

But things had moved, outside of my control. And now I wanted to be inside her.

She kissed my neck and took a hold of my wrist. Firmly, she guided my hand over her breasts, down past her tummy, to her pussy. She held me there, guiding my hand so that it moved gently over her cunt, stroking her through the material of her knickers. I could feel the dampness of her panties. I could feel her mound beneath the material. She held me there for a time, kissing me, gasping lightly, losing herself in her own erotic world. And then, deliberately, she began to guide my hand away from her pussy. Over her hips. On to the rounded temptation of her arse.

Laying on her side, her arse was fully exposed to my wandering hand. Still holding my wrist she guided my hand over the round softness of her arse. I felt the delicate cotton of her panties and how taut they were against her flesh. She moved me, deliberately, until my hand was in the middle of her bum. She moved me, making me stroke her there.

"I want your cock," she repeated, whispering so quietly in to my ear. "Here."

Here. Her arse. She wanted my cock in her arse.

She was still wanking me, slowly, rubbing my cock with well-practised strokes. I felt myself harden in her grip, the thought of penetrating her arse - but more than this, the thought of her wanting me in her arse - excited me. I drew away from her, pulling my ear, my neck, my face away from her seductive mouth. Cool air played over my skin. I looked at her and saw excitement in her eyes. More. I saw desire there. Abandon. Raw, animal need. Her eyes sparkled and her face, flushed, was pinched with anticipation. Her eyes were dark pools and I felt myself drowning in them.

I reached down and gently coaxed her hand from my cock. It sprung out of her grip and twitched in the air, desperate for any friction at all. I rose up on to my knees. My cock bobbed before me. She gazed up at me, a wicked smile playing about her lips. She was giving herself to me and she was mine to enjoy. It was a beautiful gift and I loved her for it.

"Get on your hands and knees," I said, softly.

She didn't hesitate. In one graceful movement she rolled on to her front and pushed herself up so that she was kneeling before me on the bed, her hands placed firmly beneath her. I moved behind her and sat back to admire her body. Her stockings accentuated the feminine curves of her legs and made her look glamorous and sexy. Dirty and submissive. Her breasts dangled underneath her and her skin, powder soft, seemed to glow softly with a delicate sheen. Her arse was pushed back, stuck out provocatively. I adored it, so sexy, so round, so inviting. Her black panties clung tightly to her skin and made her arse all the more desirable. It was hidden, forbidden; and yet it offered itself for anyone prepared to unwrap the gift. I could see that she was pushing it out, making it strain against her knickers, making her cheeks so round and full.

She looked back at me, smiling with girlish anticipation. Her eyes slid down to my cock and when she looked back in to my eyes, she licked her lips.

"Put your head down on the bed," I said.

Her smile faded and compliantly, she did as I asked.

She was mine to use as I would. I knew what she wanted. And I wanted it too.

Kneeling behind her, I stroked her arse through the material of her knickers. I used my palms and my fingertips and the back of my hands to explore her perfect curves. Sometimes my touch was firm but now and then I eased off the pressure, so that she would merely feel the brushing of my hands as I tickled her, lightly. It pleased me to know that the sensation would be painfully blunted by her underwear.

I bent forward and pushed my face against her backside. I breathed her in. I could smell the sweet fragrance of washing agent on her panties. And beneath this, something darker. Something so much more exciting.

Slowly, I moved my hands up to the top of her knickers and hooked my fingers underneath the flimsy waistband. Her face was pressed against the bed but even so, I heard her gasp. I heard her sudden breath against the sheets. Carefully, teasingly, I began to tug on her panties. I eased them down, slowly - so slowly - over her hips and with slow deliberation, over her arse. In one prolonged move, I exposed her. I pulled her knickers down to her legs and her arse was naked before me. I felt my heart quicken and my cock strained for some relief. Before me, her arse was round and obscene, pushed out in a provocative challenge. Such was the way she had positioned herself that her cheeks were a little way apart and between them I saw her tiny forbidden hole. I knew that she would feel the air of the room, cool on her arse, cool between her cheeks, cool on her puckered hole.

She would feel so exposed. Vulnerable, almost.

I reached out and lightly ran my fingertips over her cheeks. Her skin was soft and it seemed to flinch a little under my touch. Slowly, I let my fingertips move over her, exploring every little inch of her bare arse. I used a touch that was so light, she would almost believe I was tickling her with the tip of a feather. I explored her and touched her, enjoying the nakedness of her, enjoying the fact she was so exposed - her arse was so available - before me.

Little by little I allowed my fingers to move further in, getting closer and closer to her open crack. As I moved further in, I ran my fingers up and down the crease of her arse, knowing how sensitive her skin was here. She mewed gently on the bed and pushed herself back to meet my touch. She felt my probing and she wanted to be probed further. Deeper. The more she stuck her arse out to meet my caress, the sexier she looked. As I touched her, caressed her, I gazed down at her perfect bum and my mouth went dry. I wanted to be inside it. I wanted to penetrate her in this perfect, forbidden way.

I was aware that she was pushing her face down more firmly in to the bed. She wanted friction. Any friction.

I continued to move my fingers up and down between her cheeks, teasing her, caressing her. When my fingertips lightly grazed her tight hole, for the first time, she cried out softly. I allowed my fingers to play here, toying over her arse, lightly tickling her anus. I didn't apply any pressure. Right now, I wanted her to ache for me. I tickled her and teased her and delighted in every tiny, jerking little thrust of her arse as she tried to get me a little way inside her. Just the tip of my finger. Anything.

After a while I did push, a little. I pushed to see if she would open up for me, if her arse was ready for a finger inside her. Or a cock. I pushed, probing her with gentle pressure, but my finger felt the firm resistance of her. She wasn't ready yet. She pushed back and I prodded gently. But her arse was tight and closed. We both wanted this. We would have to work together.

I wanted to taste her. I brought my face down to her arse and kissed her cheeks, tiny butterfly kisses all over her gorgeous bum. I poked out my tongue and traced it lightly over her skin, leaving wet traces of my devotion. I licked her and kissed her and took her soft flesh between my teeth and bit gently down. I blew on her and watched goosebumps rise across her buttocks.

I snaked my tongue further and further in between her cheeks. Her skin was softer here, velvet almost. Her cheeks were slightly parted and I spread them further with my hands. Her anus was obscenely exposed and looked so small and delicate. So tight. She gave a little wriggle of her hips and circled her bottom invitingly before my face. I could smell her, musky and delicious. I wanted to eat that smell, to be at one with it. I wanted to be inside it, to perfume my hard cock with its musk. I planted a tiny kiss, soft and teasing, on her puckered anus. It contracted visibly, tensed up instinctively against any probing assault. Sticking out my tongue I reached out tentatively, flicking the very tip of my tongue over her forbidden hole. It remained tightly closed to me. I licked it, my wet tongue sliding over her sensitive bud with rhythmic sensitivity. I was aware of her sinking her upper body down further on to the bed. She brought her elbows on to the sheets and her breasts pushed in to the mattress. She brought herself in to position to be able to push he arse out further for me, to make herself all the more accessible to my assault.

I flicked my tongue over her anus, and she tasted wonderful. Like sugared musk, I thought. I had wetted her, quite intentionally, and now, gently, I pushed my tongue forward. For a few seconds her arse resisted me but then it opened, just a little, and my tongue slipped inside. I pushed forward, tasting her arse, exquisitely sweet. I penetrated her as far as I could, loving how tight she was around my tongue. Her anus, a ring of sensual delight, was tight and constricted. I pushed in to her, gently tongue fucking her, loving her, tasting her. She pushed back against me and she was moaning now, softly. It was a womanly sound, the sound of pleasure. She worked against me in her own delicate rhythm, pushing back against me with every stroke of my tongue. I pumped her with my tongue in slow, firm strokes, matching her rhythm, matching her need. With my tongue inside her, I tried to lick, to explore to get deeper in to her arse. Her smell washed over me and I loved to have my face pressed up against her, buried in between her cheeks.

For a while we remained like that. My mouth was pushed against her, locked against her arse, as I fucked her with my tongue and she let herself be fucked so intimately. She jerked and moved, doing all she could to get my tongue deeper inside her, to feel my probing wetness inside her arse.

When I stopped, she made a disappointed, frustrated sound. I liked it. She remained in position, her head and shoulders firmly on the bed, her bottom thrust out salaciously. Without waiting, I licked my own finger, making sure it would go inside her and brought it to her anus. Her little hole, so recently invaded by my exploring tongue, was closed once more. But it was more pliant now. I pushed the fingertip against the wetness and immediately felt her tightness yield a little. She pushed back and her arse opened up to swallow my finger. The tip of my finger disappeared inside and in a single stroke I sunk it in to her, slowly, as deep as it would go. She gasped and I saw her clutch the sheets tightly with her hands. I pushed into her, until I could go no further; and then I let my finger rest there, filling her arse, letting her get used to the sensation of my finger inside her. It was as intimate as two people can come.

Slowly, I eased my finger out...and then slid it back inside her. I did it again... and again... in and out, in and out... until I was pumping her in a steady, gentle rhythm, finger fucking her arse with all the sensuality in my body. She whimpered. God yes, oh god yes. I saw her clutching the sheets, pulling them in against her as she rode the vivid sensation of being fingered in this ultimate way. She wriggled her hips, pushed back against me, met my every stroke and rode me hungrily. Her arse was tight but it loosened enough to let me finger her with ease. I adored the sweet smell that hung between us, a heady mix of pussy and arse cock and mouth. Sex was in the air and we rolled it between us like a pillow.

I eased a second finger in to her, checking that she could take more. She was so tight there, but she relented and my second finger slipped in alongside my first.

God, god, god, she whimpered. It sounded like she would cry.

My cock was aching now. It was as hard as it had been when she was wanking me - harder - and it twitched and throbbed in the air before me, as I played with her and adored her naked bum. I could wait no more. My fingers slipped out of her with a delicate popping sound and I saw her anus contract once more, in to its accustomed tight defence. I brought my fingers to my face to smell her. I licked her arse from them and rolled her taste around on my tongue. I knelt behind her and presented my dick to her arse, positioning it deliberately between her cheeks. She looked abandoned, filthy, her arse pushing out to receive my cock so eagerly.

I positioned the tip of my dick against her hole and tried to push forward a little way. Her arse was closed tight against me. My fingers had been received; my cock presented more of a challenge. I grasped my cock and pushed forward, trying to get it inside her. Her arse was tight and unyielding. I loved the way she moved back against me, working with me, trying to help me get inside her. She wriggled and pushed, moving over my cock, around it, against it. She wanted to aid my assault, wanted to open herself up to me.

I pushed against her and she pushed back. It was like trying to push through a barrier, firm and unyielding. We worked quietly, only the quick sound of our breathing breaking the silence. We worked hard, concentrating deeply, unaware of ourselves, wholly aware of each other. I pushed and shoved, quick gentle stabs, gently trying to open her up, to get inside her forbidden place.

And then, finally, it happened. I gave one little last push and her arse gave. The tip of my cock slipped inside her, a perfectly delicious breakthrough. I held it there, just the head of my cock, gripped by her tight arse, letting he adjust to the sensation and loving the feeling of such a tight grip around my hardness. She had me so excited. I would never last long. I wanted to fill her arse with cum.

Slowly, gently, I pushed forward, sinking my cock inside her. It slipped in to her tight hole, filling her. I tried to imagine how full she must feel, the unyielding hardness of my dick in such a perfectly forbidden place. For me it was Heaven, the warm tightness of her arse wrapped around my throbbing cock like a little fist. She sighed and she moaned and she told me to fuck her there, to fuck her arse.

"This is what I want," she told me.

I pushed all the way inside her, so that I was buried deep. When I could push no further, I held myself there - savouring the perfect sensation of being in her arse. So warm, so tight, so dirty, so exquisite. My cock strained, wanting to use her now, wanting to fuck her, wanting to fill her tight hole with cum. I began to rock, gently at first, then harder, pumping her arse with increasing ferocity. I fucked it in long, slow strokes, pulling out almost the whole way before sinking deep inside her once more. I pumped her, took her tight, battered arse with all the need and intensity that she had worked up inside me.

I fucked and pumped, holding her around her waist, pulling her back on to me. I moved her back on to my cock like a life-size fuck toy, pulling her back on to me, pushing myself deeply inside her. Her arse became more and more loose for me, slick with excitement and the pre-cum that was leaking out of my cock. I continued to pump her, driving my length deep in to her tight warmth. With every stroke she moaned and on a few occasions she grunted like an animal. We were in a rare place, she and I. Bestial. Primeval. We were there together, locked in our own forbidden pleasure, far removed from the urbane world of happy love and open smiles.

"fuck me," she said, her voice hoarse and desperate. "Fuck my arse. Use it. Use me."

I pumped her, harder, my intensity growing. My rhythm quickened and I wondered if she could feel my cock getting harder inside her. I wondered if she could feel it pulsating, throbbing with approaching climax. I wondered...but I was past caring. I gripped her hips, pulled her back on to me, drove my cock deep in her arse.

"Fill my arse," she said. He voice was heavy with desire, with pleasure. "Do it. Cum in me. Cum in my arse."

I pushed and strained against her, slamming against her beautiful round bottom. I pushed with desperation, fucking her, sodomising her. Her arse gripped me, worked me, drew me in to its sensual warmth. I could feel it approaching, could feel it close. I clutched for a better grip, grabbed her waist, pulled her back, launched my hard dick as deep inside her as it would go. I pushed hard, once...twice...three times...

And then...

My cock jerked, spasm after spasm, as warm cum spilled out. I knew that she would feel this. She would feel the warm sensation of cum filing her insides, spurting out of my cock, deep inside her arse. I kept myself deep inside her, as my cock unloaded thick warm cum, filling her up, making her my own. I pulled her back on to me, not letting her go, not wanting to let her go. My balls unloaded and my cock twitched, over and over, spurting deep inside her. So forbidden. So beautiful. It seemed like an age, like I would just keep on coming. But finally, after a time, the climax subsided and my dick was spent.




Full Anal, At Her Request



We had fucked in perfect harmony. My cock. Her arse.

I looked down, saw my cock - already starting to shrink inside her. But it was still inside her, still buried in her tight, giving hole.

And I didn't want to pull out. It looked so perfect. So filthy. So perfect. I wanted to stay inside her, at least for a little while.



Full Assistant



Samantha was desperate. The recession had devastated the job market, so that when her firm had laid her off she hit a brick wall in her attempts to find work. Due to the falling housing market her mortgage, already months overdue, was now worth more than the house; and her car was also worth less than the outstanding loan, which was also behind. She had used up her savings, had credit cards that were all maxed out with no way to pay them off, and she had a student loan that would follow her if she declared bankruptcy, back taxes owing, a payday loan and a large personal loan for a foolishly large amount of money she owed to some loan sharks. But she had had no choice.

And now she was face to face with ruin. If she didn't at least get a paying job of some kind to her name, she would lose everything she had and probably more. 

She had seen the ad, strangely enough, in the help wanted section of the sex ads in the little local entertainment weekly. "Full assistant, apply in person by appointment". She was obviously suspicious, but she had to grasp at any possibility whatsoever. When they returned her call and asked her in for an interview after a few questions she was ecstatic, not even thinking any more about what they were looking for or what the odd job title meant. 

Sam was a stunning blonde; a bit too perfect and a bit hard looking, but a classic beauty. She was so good looking that men were often intimidated, and often the only ones that hit on her were the obnoxious and those whose opening lines had nothing to do with her and everything to do with their own egos. Actually, she loved fucking; but lately however her crushing money problems had meant that she wasn't feeling good enough to want to play the game. As she was driving to the interview she thought ruefully that she seemed to be able to attract all kinds of men except those that conducted job interviews.

The receptionist, a pretty young brunette, looked at her with a slightly odd expression and then asked her to fill in a form giving her details, although she had already forwarded her resume. She was soon ushered into the office of a middle aged man who was reasonably attractive but not exceptional. He offered his hand and indicated a seat for her. 

"Hello Miss Soales. My name is Alan Sanders. Please have a seat, and help yourself to a coffee from the side table if you would like. Now, before we get started, do you have any particular questions about the job?" he asked.

"Well... what exactly IS the job? I know what an admin assistant is, I've done plenty of that; but I'm unclear what I would be assisting with in this job."

"Straight to the point. Nice. Well, Miss Soales, do you like sex?"

Considering that the job ad had been in the sex ads in the little paper, she wasn't totally unprepared. Still, she was a bit taken aback at his directness.

"Of course I like sex. Who doesn't? But is that what this is all about? If I fuck you do I get the job; or did you call me in for an interview just so you could get a free fuck? As it happens I love to fuck; but I am pissed off if that's all this is about. Sure, I'll fuck you; but I need to know if there is anything else to this. I really need this job."

Sanders chuckled. "No, that's a good guess, but a bit off. I didn't call you in just to fuck you myself; the job itself involves sexual activity with other members of our staff. We are looking for someone that we can fuck whenever we feel like. Just for the fuck of it, so to speak."

"What do you mean? Are you talking about fucking for money? Are you talking about me being some kind of company whore?"

"We prefer to think of it as an HR benefit, a staff benefit. You would be an available resource, helpful in reducing stress and so on. If it helps at all, you can think of yourself as a type of therapist."

Sam thought hard. Had it come to this? Was she so badly off that she was forced into prostitution to stay afloat? Actually, judging by the state of the economy, she doubted if the hookers were doing so well anyways. But she knew in her heart of hearts that she really had no choice; this was the best offer she had had since being let go. In fact, it was the only offer, and there was every probability that it would be the last she would get, especially with those loan sharks after her.

"This is totally insulting. I should just get up and walk out of here right now." She paused. "But just out of curiosity, for the sake of argument, how much does the job pay?"

"I think it's a little premature for that just yet. I want to know if you're worth hiring at all. I want a look at the merchandise; and I want to take you for a test drive. Now, show us some of what you've got, and we can talk about what we are prepared to offer you once we have a better idea of what you have to offer us. Let's see how suitable you are. For the moment I will accept your earlier kind offer to fuck me for the job. Please remove your outer clothing. Let's see if you are attractive enough to bother looking at more, and in particular see if you can get me interested in fucking you. And see if maybe you might be someone attractive enough that we would want to have working for us at all. Someone with a body worth fucking, that is."

Samantha was in turmoil. She hadn't been with anyone for months so she would normally be at least somewhat horny. But the discussion had dampened her ardour. She had lost her appetite for sex, but at the same time she was resigned to the fact that she would probably have to put out for this jerk one way or another. 

Two things occurred to her. If she did hide out with these guys for a couple of years, perhaps some of her problems would blow over, would be forgotten enough that she could start over somewhere. The other thought she had was that, no matter what contracts or whatever they had her sign, someday she might be able to launch a pretty good sexual harassment suit against them; and that alone might be enough to solve all her problems once things had died down for a bit.

Perversely, she could feel her cunt start to moisten as she contemplated being forced to submit sexually. She normally wasn't that interested in the kinkier side of things, other than the usual experimentation many indulged in, especially in times where boredom threatened to set in. Right now she was equal parts pissed off, intrigued, curious, and humiliated. But she really had no choice at all, and she knew it. She stood up slowly and started to unbutton her jacket. 

She put each item of clothing on her chair, and when she was just in bra, panties and hose she remained standing in front of him. He gazed at her for a few seconds and then asked her to turn around, full circle so he had a chance to see her on all sides. 

"OK, from what I can see you have a body that's probably worth fucking, at least by me in this interview. Now, let's see the rest. Time to strip and show me your tits, ass, and cunt."

"What a smooth talker," she thought to herself. Turning even redder, she started to undo her bra.

"Slowly," He said. "This is a striptease, you are a stripper. Don't forget: the point is to get me hard enough to want to shove my cock up your cunt like you were a good piece of meat. Entice me with the strip and give me a little foreplay to warm me up Give me a little bump and grind, show me what you can do." 

Sam reluctantly complied again, turning slowly as she tried to teasingly remove her bra. She reached for her stockings but then he stopped her.

"No, leave the stockings on. It makes you look sluttier. Just the panties now, please. And remember, slowly."

After she had completely removed her panties she stood naked before him, waiting.

"OK now, turn so you are facing away from the door. Spread your legs wide and bend over completely. Reach back and hold the cheeks of your ass and the lips of your cunt open, as if you were displaying yourself for an audience. That's right. Good. Now stay like that."

She remained in this position as he instructed, and he walked all around her, stopping to squeeze her tits roughly and shove a few fingers up her cunt and pumping them hard in and out of her a couple of times. He returned to his desk and pushed a button. "Lara, please come in now and bring the equipment including the collar and handcuffs." 

The receptionist came in the door to see Sam spread naked holding herself open to show Lara her open cunt and asshole. Sam could see her face as Lara smirked at her.

"That was fast. I'm surprised the slut bothered to wear clothes at all. I'm surprised she didn't fuck the doorknob on the way in."

"Now, now; be nice. Sam might be coming to work for us, if she gets me cumming first, that is." Turning to Sam he said "I hope you don't mind a little role-play." Sam was too mortified to answer.

Alan told Sam to lie across his desk face down with her cunt on the edge, and again hold her ass cheeks open. Although she was humiliated from being naked in front of the young woman she complied, lying down across the hard cold surface with her cunt on the edge and her chin just hanging over the other side. 

Alan came around in front of her and unzipped his fly, taking out his uncircumcised and somewhat firming cock. "Forgive my forthrightness, but I don't have a lot of time, and I'd like to try you out while I go over some of the ground rules. Please suck my cock to get it hard enough to bugger your asshole. And don't forget to clean out under my foreskin with your tongue; it probably has some smegma and piss accumulated. Thanks." And with that he pushed into her waiting open mouth, stroking in and out of her a few times. While he was fucking her skull he held it with both hands for leverage, fully enjoying the feeling of thrusting his pelvis against her face, fucking it like her face was a cunt. 

He asked Lara to fasten the handcuffs on Sam's wrists, leaving Sam enough slack to keep holding her ass cheeks wide open. Then he told her to lube up Sam's asshole. Lara took something that was very much like a caulking gun and held the tip to Sam's ass and squeezed the trigger as she pushed it in, filling her ass with lube and finishing with a large dollop on the outside of her anus. Putting the lube gun down, Lara then started to work a large cone shaped but plug into her, slowly stretching her out wider and wider to get her ready for Alan's cock.

"OK Lara, that will be all for now. Take a couple of photos of her like this so that we can post it on the staff bulletin board to introduce her to everyone if we do have reason to welcome her on as a new staff member."

Lara took a few shots and left, still smirking. Sam didn't see her as Lara also picked up the pile of Sam's clothes and left with them as well.

Alan pulled out of Sam's facecunt, his cock rock hard by this time. He walked around his desk and put his cock against her glistening anus and then shoved it suddenly into her all the way, driving deep and hard into her ass.

"UUUUUUGGGGGGGHHHHHH! OH, MY, GOD! FUCK! Christ! OK, if I'm going to be your company whore, I should get paid like a whore. Uh, uh, uh. You are asking for a lot. How much are you offering.?"

"Well, technically you won't be a whore. Whores trade sex for money; and you will be working for us as an unpaid intern. You won't be getting a cent."

"What? Are you nuts? You think I'm volunteering to work for you for free? You must be out of your fucking mind! There is no fucking way I am working for you for free!"

Alan laughed again. "Yes, in fact there is a fucking way you will work for us for free. You see, we checked you out and we know all about your financial situation. In exchange for your services we will take care of 100% of your expenses while you are working for us, and we will give you full protection from your creditors. That protection will terminate the minute you leave our employ, so you should think carefully about any decision to leave us, as some of those less reasonable people are liable to use fairly unscrupulous debt collectors if they don't get their somewhat exorbitant payments on time, with escalating interest and late charges. Without our protection, I don't think you will last more than a couple of months, and that is probably more than you would actually have. In fact, I don't think you have any choice but to accept our offer." 

The hell of it was, she thought to herself, he was probably right. She was at the end of her rope, and she had nowhere to turn. She had exhausted all her potential sources of help, and then some. She had tried to make money on stocks but some of her gambles were desperate and unfortunate, and She really had dug too deep into wells of debt that she shouldn't have turned to in the first place; and now she was going to forfeit probably more than a pound of flesh. 

He had been watching her expression and had a pretty good idea that she was becoming resigned and somewhat accepting of the situation. He also had a pretty good idea of some of the plans she would be thinking of. But he thought he had just about had her caught in the trap that she, after all, had made for herself. 

"By the way, are you sexually submissive?"

"NO," she snapped.

"That's just as well. I mean, it's like spanking a masochist. You're never sure if they're actually feeling more pleasure than pain. This way, if we humiliate you, you won't be secretly enjoying it. We can really humiliate you and enjoy it while you squirm. It's much more delicious this way."

"You must be insane if you think I'm going to work for you under these conditions." 

"Well, you might as well consider yourself hired as of now. In fact, if you like we can extend back pay starting from this morning. Oops, sorry. Couldn't resist a little joke." 

"Very fucking funny. Why do I get the feeling that I'm being screwed in more ways than one? I'm going to have to go home to think about this."

"Oh, no need to bother. When we got your application and checked you out, we knew you were going to work here. So we called the bank already and explained the situation, and they have already seized your house."

"WHAT? YOU FUCKERS! HOW DARE YOU! GET OFF ME NOW! I'M OUTTA HERE! FUCK OFF RIGHT NOW!"

"Oh, I don't think so. For one thing, I haven't come yet; although I am enjoying screwing you in so many ways. But the house was worth less than the money you owed on it, and we were doing you a favour, financially. Same with the car; we turned it over to the finance company just now, as I was fucking you."

"You BASTARD!. All my stuff is in that house! With no car, how am I supposed to get my stuff out of the house? And stop fucking me. Let me up now! Fuck you, you prick!"

"No, actually I'm enjoying fucking you. I don't think I'll stop just yet. But don't worry about your stuff. We took the liberty of destroying all your possessions, including your clothes and the clothes you wore to the interview. As of this moment, you own nothing except a lot of debt, this job that pays nothing, and your naked body."

"WHATTHEFUCK YOUMOTHERFUCKER?! GET THE FUCK OFF ME NOW! I'M OUTTA HERE! FUCK RIGHT OFF!"

"Well, I hate to mention it, but if I do get off and you decide to leave the building stark naked and with fluids running out of your cunt and ass, where will you go? Are you going to go and ask your loan shark friends for help? I'm sure they will be happy to hear that you have no money and absolutely no way to pay them. Presumably they will all rape you before they kill you."

He continued to fuck her ass. After a while, she started to sob quietly.

"But what will I do? Where will I stay? How do I stay alive?"

"I told you, we would take care of you while you are working here. You will have a small apartment in the building that you will never sleep in. Tonight you are going to sleep with me. Afterwards you will be given appointments to be used by anyone in the company who wants to book an appointment to use you. Sometimes more than one employee will share the appointment to use you at the same time. On weekends you will be gangbanged in the party room by everyone who wants to participate, no appointment needed. You will put on some shows for us, and you will be used to service clients frequently. We also have the use of a little rural resort, sort of a farm, and we will be abusing you there for those who are into that sort of thing."

"But what about my debts? You said you'd protect me from my creditors?"

"Well, as you aren't getting any salary, we don't have anything we have to report to the government or anyone. And you will be here completely anonymously. Nobody else will know your old name, and from now on your new name is Fuckmeat. Your creditors will have no way of tracing you or finding you, so you will be safe. Of course, if you ever leave this protection will no longer be effective, and you will be back in a world of shit. You really have no choice but to stay here. Probably forever." 

While still fucking her slowly he reached over and pressed the intercom button. "Lara, please come in here again."

"Yes, Sir."

She came in the room to see her boss still buggering the new slut.

"Lara, please welcome Fuckmeat, our latest member of the family. And please fasten her new collar."

"Yes, Sir. Welcome Fuckmeat. I hope you enjoy getting fucked a lot. I know I will enjoy fucking you. And with that she snapped the shiny metal collar around Sam's neck as she lay across Alan's desk, still getting her ass fucked as they spoke."

"I hope you enjoy your first new jewellery," he said. "It's a stainless-steel titanium alloy with a completely enclosed locking mechanism. The only ways to take it off are with a blowtorch or by removing your head. It is inscribed with "Fuckmeat, property of" with the company logo, followed by "If found, please fuck and return to" this address. I think you will wear if for a long time to come. Now, Lara: get the piercing gun. Sam, we are going to pierce your nipples, labia, clit hood and clit, and your nose. We will insert rings into you and use them and you for all kinds of entertaining things. We will also tattoo a similar phrase on your ass; but instead of tattooing the logo we are going to brand you with it, which will be very painful and take a while to heal. We will add other tattoos from time to time. Once we have you trained properly we will tattoo "public urinal" in small letters above and along your top lip. And once we get you happily settled in, we will tattoo your new name, Fuckmeat, in large letters across your forehead. This will be your new identity and image. Afterwards you will be given humiliation training and you will be performing in videos and introduced to some of our associates who will enjoy using you.

Samantha lay quietly whimpering, still being sodomized slowly. She could see her whole future stretching out ahead of her. She was truly trapped. She had nothing else to think about. And nothing else to ever worry about. Her problems were solved. There was no escape. She was just going to fuck and get fucked, for the rest of her life, in a thousand different ways, by thousands of different people. 

God, she loved fucking.



Full Bloom



Forrest awoke to another hot Summer Saturday morning. It was 90 degrees again and he knew it would be broiling in the after noon. He was already bored this summer break and seeing that he had nothing to do, today made him just want to lay in bead and sweat. He would have gone to the mall, or movies but he knew it would packed with old high school chums that he had no desire to see. 

He laid back in his bed sheets, clad only in his boxers.  He looked down and noticed his manhood fell out his open hole. "Oh well," he thought, "might as well jerk off." He started to go at his unwilling member and eventually found a rhythm. He thought of his girlfriends at school and all the fun they had and eventually his penis started to react. He was settling into his own pseudo-sexual fantasy world, when his door popped open.

"C'mon, Forrest it's eleven AM. Rise and shine, you can't sleep all day." He didn't lock the door and Mom came in with her usual laundry load. She immediately looked down at the floor and continued with her typical babble. "Why don't you call a friend Forrest or go to your fathers house..." 

This was a typical happening. He would forget to lock the door and she would barge in when he was doing his business. She must have caught him a hand full of times. Especially now, that he had been home from college and was bored. He was also under the impression, that she never noticed and he figured she probably thought he was 'itching' himself. Besides his mother was an old hippie so, in theory, she allowed him to have his space.

He quickly had rolled over and laid on his side. Forrest's Mom then sat on the edge of his bed and looked at him over his shoulder. "I know you don't have to work today so shouldn't you call a friend." Forrest responded as if he was still asleep. "Wha, oh yeah sure." Forrest's Mom, would have done anything to spend a day with him but he was older and she feared he was growing away from her. She wanted him to be independent but she missed him. Still she knew he would waste his Saturday anyway with his typical old, sitting around in his room, listening to music, smoking grass and occasional masturbation.

"Tell you what Forrest, why don't you come with Anya and I today." This didn't excite him at all. The idea, of hanging around with his hippie mother and her hippie friend just made him more tired. He wanted to stay home and count the days until he went back to college but she would have none of it. She got up and said "Cool, now  wake up lazy bones you're hangin with yer ol' lady today." She walked out and down the hall, without shutting the door. Forrest got up, bonner bobbing out again and went to close the door. His Mom turned around and, while just looking at the floor, said; "Please Forrest, get going." 

He had his prick covered but he got the feeling that she knew what he up to. Which she did. He agreed and started towards the bathroom. He looked at her briefly as he walked. She still had her long raven colored hair that went half down her back and she still wore her old bell bottoms and 70's cowboy shirts, complete with brown cowboy boots. Boy, she was stuck in an era; he thought. Even though her body sagging at 48, she still looked like the hippie she was in the pictures he had of her, his father and him when he was born. Her hair still hung in her dark Native American face like it did then. Her eyes were bold and passionate. She looked tough but when she talked you could see her kindness. His dad too still wore a pony tail but Forrest thought the were both dorkish with their  "open mindedness" and "strong political beliefs." That stuff made him snicker. He just wished they still did drugs so he could get some from them and be stoned during his break.

He walked into the bathroom and looked at himself. He had a shaved head and long goatee. His American Indian face was bold but his father's Irish jeans gave him sympathetic eyes. His tattoos of vines covered his wrists as well as Japanese symbols on his shoulders. They meant "Strength" and "Love" but he would tell the girls they meant "Nihilism" or some other trendy meaning. Whatever he thought would get them hot, he would say.  He got those meanings from his Mom, who would always say; "Forrest, Strength will take you were ever you want to go but Love will teach you to appreciate wear you are." He loved his Mom and although he acted disinterested in her lessons on life he appreciated everything she sacrificed for him. His dad was cool too. Although they divorced, he still lived by and gave his Mom anything she wanted. He sometimes wished he had a sob story, but they all didn't.

He walked down stairs in Cutoff Shorts, T-Shirt and his Black boots. He sat down in the kitchen and poured himself some of her herbal tea, which he had to drink since she didn't allow coffee. He really didn't want to go with her and besides he didn't know where they were going. "Mom, I don't know, were are we going any way?" His Mom, walked into the kitchen. "I don't know!" She responded with her inquisitive but open tone. "Anya, said it was a surprise. Sounds fascinating though." Oh Christ, he thought they were headed for some strange East Indies spiritual lecture or something. 

Anya, always pulled this type of thing. He really didn't want to go he rather bike or call his college friends and convince them meet him halfway so they could go out and drink. But he did that last weekend and his Mom was never happy with him driving her old VW bug half way across the state just to get drunk.  When you live in the middle of New York State you have to drive pretty far to have a good time. "Mom, can't I stay home? Please." He asked. She put her head down and frowned. "Forrest, you only have a few weeks left and then your back at school in New York City. Can't you spend one day with me? I've let you have your days off to yourself because you work, all summer."  "Yeah, but Mom, you and Anya get so annoying..."

"Oh, what the hell are you going to do any way?" She abruptly barked. "Whack off all day?!" He sat silent and so did she. She would rarely yell but when she did, the truth always cut through the BS. They sat silent for a Moment and suddenly Forrest said; "Well your last Guru said that was liberating?" Forrest's Mom looked at him and then they both laughed. The tension had broken and with that Anya's beat up van rolled down the rock filled drive way. "Forrest's Mom looked at him with a pleading expression. "Please, Forrest." Forrest couldn't resist, he could do pretty much any thing he wanted around there but breaking his mother's heart always got to him. He let out a long sigh and said "Okay, Mom." She jumped up, ran over and gave him a hug. Her long hair got in his face and mouth but he resisted making spitting sounds.

She started locking up the house and he grabbed her Indian designed sack. They both walked out and Anya got out of the Van. She was her mother's age but much larger, she too was a hippie friends from the old days. But her hair was short and she would wearing men's work clothes. She was Mom's politically conscience Lesbian friend. The kind who would always want to play catch with Forrest and to see if he was man enough.

She was usually happy to have him along on their excursions but today she had a perturbed look on her face. "Hey, guys." Anya said with an underlining tone of concern. Forrest was getting the impression Mom's surprise was a hard ass Feminist folk rally. Which was never cool to bring a guy with combat boots to. Mom however was unfazed or she chose to ignore it. Nothing would ruin her day with her son. "We're ready." Mom said eagerly; "You want to tell us the surprise know or should we wait?" 

Anya, paused a second and took a diplomatic tone. "Well, Mum, you're son is welcome but I'm not sure he'd want to come." Actually Forrest thought this might be a cool out and he was hoping Anya would sell it well. "Why, not?" Mom said getting serious. She wasn't going to back down. She would rather spend a night at a Melissa Etheridge concert wearing a Pat Buchanan T-Shirt than not spend a day with Forrest. Anya, squirmed for a second and "Spoke up. Well it's not any real hard ass reason or any thing." She settled. "We're all of us welcome, to this thingy, but it's just that...well...you both might be uncomfortable." 

"Really, why?" Mom said, Now she was getting worried. Anya, smiled and stared at the ground. "Well Mum," (A pet name she called her since she had Forrest.) "It's a nudist, thing." She laughed. "I'm sorry, I didn't think Forrest would want to hang out today, I guess I should have told you." Forrest laughed with Anya and was relieved he was off the hook. He knew his Mom had done this before but never with him lately. When he was a small child, sure but now, never. an after noon of lying around was before him.

Mom looked as if she just found out Santa didn't really exist. Anya and Forrest started feeling bad. "Well, if you guys want to do something different..." Forrest said, because in his heart he knew her day, her week and practically her summer was ruined. School was just around the corner and weekends like this were fleeting. Anya, said well we're both expected. You're Mom was going to be, a sort of, guest of honor tonight."

His Mom's, frown started to bow and He knew she was going to cry. He looked at Anya and Anya looked frantically back. They, didn't know what to do. Forrest's Mom just then relented; "Fine, uh you can make diner..., right?" Forrest responded slowly yes. He felt really bad but he couldn't imagine romping with his naked Mother. 

Anya, and his poor hippie Mom got in the Van and they started to back out of the driveway. Forrest waived goodbye slowly and she waived slowly back. Towards the end, Anya stopped the vehicle and sped back and jumped out. "Forrest, get in, come on before I kick your ass." Forrest looked confused and so did his Mother. He was about to say something when she grabbed his arm, and although he was pretty built himself, Anya was tougher than a dock worker. She squeezed his arm and he thought it might go numb so he slowly followed her into the van. They both got in and drove away. In the van Forrest and his mother looked at each other befuddled. "So, what are we going to do?" said Forrests' Mom. "Won't the old hippies be pissed when we don't show up?" Anya looked straight ahead. "We are showing, up."

They argued with Anya, all the way there but she insisted that if Forrest was a common guest when he was young he would be fine now. Forrest's Mom stopped taking him there when he was about to go to grade school. She knew that, no matter what kind of environment she could create for him the harsh reality was his telling stories of being around naked people wouldn't sit well at school. Anya, argued now they were both older and mature. They could handle it or at least not look at each other. Forrest's Mom was not into it and even began to get angry but Anya kept driving insisting it was too late. She had to be their and they would have no time to go back drop off Forrest and be back in time. 

Forrest's Mom kept insisting and threatened to not go along or even enter the nudist valley. Forrest said he would simply walk home. Anya finally, came straight forward, and said; "Look, the only reason you two would be so embarrassed is if your associating this whole thing with sex. It isn't and since Forrest has yet to become a dirty old man and you Mum, will just know him as your son there should be no tension. I've brought my mom with to these things, you know that." She said as she looked at Forrest's Mom. "Just try it you two and if you hate it I'll drive Forrest home. But Mum, you really should stay." Forrest's Mom was silent and so was Forrest, he didn't know what to do. Anya looked at him; "It's just old naked people, Forrest. Just relax, have an open mind and only look your Mother in the eye." Forrest just sat back and sighed silently. "Yeah, a very, very, very open mind."

"Would it be horrid?" he thought. Despite his protests he did remember the nudist colony when he was young child.  He remembered running and swimming. He remembered nuzzling his nude mother and her warmth. It seemed so natural then, why was it a big deal now. He would pull naked stunts at college and no one cared. He had even played strip poker and it never felt uneasy. His mother sat silent for awhile and then turned back to face him. "Is this Ok, Honey? I don't want you to be uncomfortable, just say the word and we'll bring you home." She said. " I mean, if we make it a big deal, then it's a big deal. If we don't then we don't." She smiled and looked at him. "It's just me your mom anyway. It's nothing new, right?" 

"Right." He answered. He wasn't sure why he was going along. Yet, he thought, it might be nice to revisit those past summers or at least live in denial, for the rest of the day. They drove for another hour and they talked about other things. Forrest was getting hot and sweat was building up in his shirt. He thought it might be nice to get bare ass soon because he was all sweaty. As soon as he thought that however a pang of reality would hit him: He would be nude and with his nude mother! 

A strange feeling settled in to him. It felt perverse, upsetting and strange but familiar as well. He was confused but he knew he would face it. He hoped it would feel normal or at least relaxed when it was happening. Forrest's Mom also grappled with the uncertainty too, but she validated herself by thinking; it's just my son. I brought him into this world he was naked then. No big deal now. She knew of his habits and his girlfriends and she dealt with them like a typical mom. She had seen sons of other people and they had no problem. She knew it would be the same for them. She worried, however, if she was too open minded some times.

The Van turned down the dirt road heading towards the valley. Their hearts raced. But the dirt road was long and they just watched the trees engulf the road. Forrest's began remembering the area and how he used to get excited. He remembered the trees and cool water. Soon they saw the parking, were other cars were. They parked and got out. They both joked as they headed towards the valley trying to calm their own nerves. Across a field and through some more woods, they walked until they heard splashing. 

People were swimming. Again their hearts raced. It was going to happen. A tall Ivy covered fence ran around, what seemed like acres. Forrest remembered that the land was owned by a winery and the owners were avid nudists. They made their way into the a small shack that stood as an entrance. The memories were flooding back to him. Behind a desk was a short man with a long beard and hair who was forests age. He looked at Forrest, his Mom and Anya. 

He recognized them and even asked if Forrest remembered him. He was Aron. They had played together when young. Oddly, enough he did. Forrest felt relaxed. They chatted and then Aron said they could change. The pang hit Forrest but slightly less. They walked through a door together and into a small room outlined with wooden benches. Aron, handed them a large box and said they could put their stuff in there. 

The moment of truth was at hand. Anya, quickly disrobed not wanting to make a deal of anything. She was larger and her naked look made zero impression on Forrest. Mainly because it reminded him of other guys at a gym. So he sat down and pulled off his boots, took off his shirt and then without thinking pulled down his cutoffs. While hoping it wouldn't mean getting poison ivy on his ass. 

Anya rolled up her clothes and talked about going fishing. Forrest just tried to relax, yet, like a light in the dark his eyes moved towards the movements next to him. He saw his mother from behind and took an eyeful in. With only her shirt on he could see a full view of her bottom. The dark tan skin of her large round rear, curved into, muscular legs which straddled the floor like a dancer. She shifted her hip to one side emphasizing her curve. He noticed some standard wear of age on her cheeks but nothing unsightly. From between her legs he saw a large dark tuft of hair. Boy, she really was caught in an era, he thought. 

She dropped her shirt and he saw her muscular back. She turned around to face him, as she thought she might as well get it over with. She began talking to him and he responded. Yet the conversation was just subconscious. She did look older he conceded to himself with her lines on her face but her vitality shined in her eyes. Forrest saw that his mother did age. Her tummy popped out and her large bosom hung lower than his childhood memory had served.  

But her large tits were still her sexual prowess. Men had always seemed captivated by their size and that was still the case. They were larger than any of his typical skinny girlfriends. They formed into two mounds with her brownish nipples that he remembered very well from his childhood. Her bosom was what he clung to, suckled and it brought a strange warmth to his heart to see her loving chest again. She moved and her breasts bounced, causing him to stare. While she seemed unimpressive to the typical eye, he looked her age and surprisingly he felt comfortable seeing her naked. Her long hair wove down her body and made her look more native. Although he wouldn't tell a soul he was glad for his mother looked healthy.

"I'm a fat old woman aren't I?" She said. "You look good Ma." He felt stupid. It was a typical response that never made any one feel better. Anya was outside and she was calling for Forrest's Mother "Hey, guess who's here?" They both went outside and felt the warm air on their bodies. It felt good and it seemed perfect for their  body temperature. Suddenly, nude people were around them hugging and laughing. Forrest stood quiet, until his mother called for him. At this moment, as he walked forward, he realized he was also nude. 

He felt awkward and wondered if his penis had shrink into his body. He felt embarrassed but with all the grey beards and older faces he felt comfort consuming him. A genuine feeling of acceptance was given to him; they were simply just glad to see him. He felt as if he was in a dream all the old faces he knew from when he was a child were filling his eyes again. It felt hyper real and his naked body just made it all that more tangible. Maybe Mom's theory was actually right. If you don't make it a big deal then it wasn't a big deal.

His Mom was casual, she talked and looked completely at ease. He soon found himself walking, and lying around nude as if it was nothing. He even hiked a bit with Anya. Later he asked her how she was feeling. She smiled, "It's old hat for me. We're going to make diner do you want to help me?" Forrest was looking for an excuse for not playing catch with Anya so he obliged. Forrest's Mom Beamed, "Great!" He decided then he would spend the rest of the day with her as he promised from before. He helped her peel corn as she told stories about playing folk music around the country. Forrest's mom beamed with pride at her son. He was so handsome and all the women were taking him in with their eyes. 

They made sure to talk to him in order to have an excuse to look in his direction. She knew a younger girl had designs but Mom was proud he wasn't responding. Although he may not have control with himself alone at least he didn't throw himself at any girl with a cute bottom, she thought. Everyone noticed his tattoos and how strong he looked. He did have a muscular body with strong legs like his mother. She peeled another stalk and looked for another. She noticed his groin. There was a time when he was so small. Now he was man and the small patch of brown hair that held a long smooth penis looked sexy.  Now she realized why her son was being eyed. What was it about a strong proud young cock that was so appealing? She didn't know but was glad her son had one.




Full Bloom in Winter



Author's Notes: This story is erotic fantasy written by Etaski. I reserve the right to be listed as the author of this story, wherever it is posted. If found posted anywhere except Literotica.com with this note attached, this story is posted without my permission. © Etaski 2010

******

This story, like most of my others, is based in current fantasy game settings and I tend to favor more "evil" personalities. Please be warned that this particular story has heavy incest overtones which are appropriate in defining the characters. If you've read "The Fiendish Codex II: Tyrants of the Nine Hells," this should not seem out of place.

If that is not to your taste, I have given fair warning. The rest, please enjoy.

********

Indrath Rousse, Lord of the Arcanum and the foundation of control within the icy city of Winter Home, was scrying on his daughter. He still felt the acute thrill and almost fierce pride as he regularly tasted her dreams these past two years and knew she had begun to awaken. He had seen the signs of the Ardeur—that which would become the source and fuel of her magic, as it was in himself. The Ardeur had begun to mature within her body.

Perhaps he'd sensed it before that point, and perhaps he'd always hoped for it.

Now he knew for certain: unlike some of his earlier offspring, she would—in truth—become like him.

Lady Indra was named for her father, sheltered and raised by him and his loyal servants in Rousse Manor. She was Fey'ri, and she had received a fine education exploring both of her heritages—diabolic and elven—as well as that of the city which may become her own with time, if not in name, then in its politics and economics and resources.

In practice, however, she had known mostly leisure and play. Indulgence and affection were hers in abundance as her powerful parent doted on her youthful desires during the first century of her life.

Now those desires were to mature and swell, and very rapidly, if Indra's current enthusiasm was any indication.

He could see through his scrying circle into his daughter's bedroom. Her head and shoulders rested on her pillow, and her devil-red rear end raised up in the air as she kept her knees wide. Her maroon wings stretched out to the sides and were trembling as she used a smooth wooden phallus to repeatedly violate the netherhole just beneath her prehensile tail, which was lashing side to side in an excited S-curve. Her clawed fingers tapped and rubbed at her mound in a most knowing way. Scrying did not normally allow for sound unless he put much more power into it, but still he could see her lips parted and her blank, yellow eyes half-closed. He could imagine the small squeals and canine whimpers as she wallowed in the pleasure which was fast becoming her power. 

In spite of all his abilities and influence, in spite of his connections and privilege, he soon had to accept that he must rely on others to satisfy her properly, to protect her and allow her to explore her nature so that her development was not hindered. 

Jealous heat settled more frequently in his middle these days at the reflection, but he knew the necessity. There was no doubt in Lord Indrath's mind that the dreams he'd been sending his daughter would not keep her satisfied for much longer.

If she were to leave the Manor to find that which she craved...? He shuddered to think of what might happen.

So he was responsible for finding her first lovers. They must be skilled, well-formed, with better-than-average endurance, for she would be hungry. They must not quail at the thought of whose daughter they penetrated and marked with their seed, but nor must they take too much pride in that fact. These would be difficult to find, but Indrath knew they existed. He had one or two in mind to start.

********

"Enter, daughter."

Indrath could see her nipples through the thin, purple gown that she'd donned in her hurry to answer his summons. He could see the brightness in her eyes, feel the distracted air, and he could hear the frustrated, grumbling animal much lower in her consciousness. She made sure the door of his study latched behind her before she came forward with the grace of her station.

He had interrupted her self-dalliance on purpose.

As Indra drew nearer to his broad, luxurious desk, he could also smell her. She was likely still wet between her thighs, with nothing on beneath the gown, which was a close shade to her own mid-length, violet hair. It would seem the apple of his eye hoped this meeting would be quick so she might return to her quarters and not have to resort to the apothecary's lubricants to begin exploring again.

*My dear, you are so exquisite. And so much like me,* he thought privately.

"You sent for me, Father?"

His trained ear could detect the husky quality easily, the slight quaver. She was no doubt so sensitive by now—enhanced by being drawn away from relative privacy and into the presence of others who may not know how her soft inner thighs were slick against each other. He did not figure it would take much to get her to accept what he wished of her.

He smiled genuinely and warmly, knew well by now the effect it had on her, and he could almost hear her heart trip when he stepped around the large oak desk, opening his arms. "Yes, my heart's gift."

She was stiff for the slightest moment as he embraced her—this was unusual, as she normally fell greedily into any hug he offered—and he thought he knew why. She was just that small bit confused: she was aroused, and he smelled good and warm, and he loved her. The pulse of desire manifested in a brief thought that he glimpsed in her mind through their blood connection: she would lay upon his desk, her tail curling around his thigh as her legs opened wide, and she would have him.

He had only to ask.

*Ask me...* That lower consciousness of hers whispered seductively to him. *Take me. Make me feel good, I know you can.

*I trust you.*

He had not been so challenged in many years. It took more strength of will than he cared to admit to resist her unspoken plea, to withdraw gently and smile down at her, touching her cheek.

"Indra," his voice was smooth and magnetic, demanding attention whether he was declaring an order or coaxing a sacrifice into his bed or onto his altar. "I have brought someone for you."

Lord Indrath stepped back a little more and gestured to the silent man who had been seated before and had stood up upon Indra entering. Both of them knew she had not even noticed him in the presence of her powerful parent and her own distraction, but she did now.

Her pupilless eyes raked over him, seeing only a human man—complete with round ears, not pointed like her own—of tall stature, taller than her, and a fighter's build. His skin, like many natives of Winter Home, was very pale, and the hair on his head was fair, a lovely thick gold, cut short, his crisp chest hair peeking through his shirt only somewhat darker by comparison. His typical round, human eyes where white with warm brown irises, giving her the impression of depth, as if a devil could look into him without trying to pluck out his thoughts from the ether.

As humans went, he was reasonably handsome, but not stunning, not exotic. He wore cured leather breeches and a black belt, tough outdoor boots, and an attractive, blue, long-sleeved shirt appropriate for the climate, though his fur cloak or coat must be hung elsewhere, for it would not be nearly warm enough outside. He was forgettable in a room of extraordinary and powerful members of the Arcanum or the Guilds, but would make most women of his race smile as they looked upon him, his strength and height working in his favor if he was presented as a potential stud.

The man bowed at the waist and lowered his eyes. "Lady Indra."

Indra seemed to understand during the pregnant pause which followed. This may actually be what her father was presenting her: a stud. Her gaze shifted from the blonde man back to her father, eyes a little wider now. Indrath grinned at her, seeing her youth—excited at the potential but momentarily at a loss what to do—and his wings that matched hers flexed and rustled a bit as he shifted yet another step away from her and gestured for the blonde man to come forward.

"Daddy—" she began as if to protest, but then the man kneeled down in front of her and took the hem of her slim, thin gown and began to lift it.

Once the silk reached her knees, his hands clasped the material to her thighs and kept sliding it upward, shuffing and gliding over the deep red skin. The blonde head disappeared just beneath the bunched fabric, his mouth pressing to her crotch but out of direct view of anyone in the room. Indra's expression, however, told it all—shock, bewilderment, then utter, enraptured pleasure.

"Oh..." She quivered, trying to keep her feet as her knees grew less stable.

Indrath watched, wishing he could take the shoulder straps of her V-necked gown and pull them down. Her breasts clearly wished to be released of their confines as they strained before his eyes. But...that was not his place tonight. Not tonight.

The man's left hand abandoned its place holding up her gown as it moved between his daughter's legs. Indrath could feel Indra's sensations dart through the air as the blunt, thick finger pushed into her ripe core. By the sound of it...yes, she was still quite wet from her activities prior to her summoning.

Indra cried out and hunched over as she again had to work to keep her balance. Her jaw was slack and hands finally moved to touch the man's blonde hair, her clawed fingers combing through it and applying gentle pressure to keep his mouth in place. All this as she still stared at her Father several paces away.

*Daddy—*

*I'm impressed, daughter, that you can still reach me this way.*

*You want...this?*

*That is immaterial. Do you want this?*

Her head nodded almost immediately, her eyes still wide and expressing awe. *I ache...I've been aching...so often. My dreams do not feed me anymore. I want this, I just...didn't know how to ask.*

Indrath relaxed his own tightly-controlled aura just a little, letting his potent energy mix with that hot, chaotic turmoil surrounding his offspring. She gasped and finally her eyes closed. Her body trembled and her wings did a reflexive flap as she uttered a rougher sound, lusty and growling. "Yes..."

The Fey'ri Lord had to take another step back from the pair in order not to become ensnared but gestured again, this time to his desk. "Balance yourself, daughter. You must show some control."

Indra clearly didn't want to move or to stop; she looked instead as if she would rather drop to her knees right there on the floor. She began to sink.

*Control.* His mental demand caused an additional shudder to go through her.

*What...difference does it make?* She struggled to send the thought to him, her mind's voice sluggish as lush, sloppy sounds came from beneath her dress.

*Because you are Lady Indra Rousse, my daughter. You will indulge in this, you must, and you will enjoy every moment. But either you will control the Ardeur, or it will control you. Every lover will be watching, they will see each time you succeed and each time you fail. If you don't remember your failures and your successes as well as they will, you will not last long in Winter Home.

*And I will not lose you that quickly.*

Trembling now, blinking at him as her play had just gotten more serious, Indra sucked in a breath and clenched her fingers into the blonde man's hair, tugging on it and trying to step back. He responded like a suckling pig refusing to leave his sow's teat, burrowing his head further in, his jaw working as he mouthed her, his fingers still embedded in her twat and his free hand still gripping her thigh. She looked at her father helplessly for a moment, and he frowned back at her.

Her Lord's disapproval was enough to cool her fires that little bit. She got a new grip on the man's hair and yanked hard, causing him to cry out in pain. "Come," she said hoarsely, "take your hand from me and follow me."

The lower half of the man's face glistened, as did his left hand, as he leaned back to let her dress drop and he blinked up at her, his gaze as hazy with lust as any Domination spell she'd ever witnessed. To her knowledge, however, no such spell had been cast on him.

She still held onto his hair as she stepped on wobbly legs closer to her father's desk, and the man crawled, seeming quite willing to follow that way. She noticed he kept his three wet fingers on his left hand from actually touching the floor. He hoped to put them back inside, perhaps.

When she reached the desk, she first started to settle onto her elbows, bent at the waist and presenting her backside to the blonde man. Then she looked almost nervously over her shoulder toward her father; perhaps he wouldn't approve—?

Her father was gone.

She looked toward the other side of the study, over her other shoulder, trying to locate him. Then she looked back around again. She couldn't see him no matter where she looked.

Indra was trying to decide if he'd left or merely made himself invisible—she was having difficulty sensing his aura at all— when she felt the blonde man raising her dress again, this time sliding his hands along the backs of her thighs. He exposed most of her buttocks and she immediately felt his mouth on her again, gently biting and sucking on her as his hands massaged and squeezed the fiery-colored globes. Her tail automatically curled upward toward her spine, hovering over her back as the last bit coiled around itself, quivering alongside her breathing.

*Ohhh...feels good...*

Lord Indrath hadn't left, of course; she only could no longer sense him nor see him. He would not leave his daughter entirely to something so new and powerful without a protector, a watcher. Tonight, he was that protector. If all went well, the man currently swirling his tongue between his daughter's cheeks may take on that role, for a short time, until he trained a more powerful guardian.

But for now, she didn't need to be certain he was watching.

Just as in the dreams Indrath had sent her, just as he'd known she would, Indra slowly relaxed and gave in to the Ardeur. She rested her torso on the desk and reached back both hands to pull her buttocks further apart, breathy and demanding the blonde human take full advantage of the access to her depths.

Indrath, knowing he'd have to practice this many times, soothed the protective and jealous heat when the man did as she bid him, his fingers plunging back into her and his tongue spearing her rosebud. Now Indrath could hear what he hadn't been able earlier; she was shrieking and squealing in pleasure, gasping and cooing, her body demanding more.

Her power—once she learned to build, focus and control it—would be formidable. Tonight, however, she would simply be taken while awake, for the first time in her young life. It was a formality at this point; she had already used many false phalli in every hole, knew what to expect, her mind had been introduced already to so many sordid delights that she nearly believed she had already experienced them.

However, despite the power within being stoked quite hot through her dreams, it still needed to be coupled with the physical connection to another aura to be ignited. Ignited and controlled. The power running the conduit between her and her breathing lovers would be much more intimidating than those in her dreams. Her power would feed the lust of her lover as well as her own, pushing them both to new heights.

If she was truly of devil-blood, as her heritage proclaimed, then the chaotic thrashing of the Ardeur within would frighten her, and she would have to do something about it or be overwhelmed by it.

She would realize this before the end of tonight.

The human was standing up now, hurriedly unbuckling his belt and unfastening his breeches, his erection clearly straining for freedom. She was encouraging him, still holding herself open for him, and Indrath doubted the man knew just how lucky he was. He was the one whom the Lord had chosen and, for now, the fair-haired one could only think about pleasing his beloved daughter.

Indrath felt the penetration as Indra was mounted for the first time, its intensity flinging the sensation across the mind-gap between them. She screamed shrilly, closing her eyes against the very different feel of a living, warm body fitting inside hers. The blonde man took firm hold of her hips, his hands incredibly white against her dark red skin, and humped her like the breeder that he was, hard and fast. She let go of her buttocks to grip the desk where she could, only reaching the edge directly in front of her.

The Lord of the Manor breathed out slowly as he listened to their mixed grunts and squeals, their flesh slapping together as they coupled.

The first coherent thing to leave his daughter's mouth, he thought, was a choked, hoarse "daddy" as she was swept up to the orgasm from which she'd been interrupted earlier. Her claws dug into the thick oak and her tail sought the man's torso, trying to wrap around it instinctively. Her wings flailed and she tensed and shook, the thrusting male behind her not letting up as she lay helpless to the sensations.

When she'd gone lax again, Indra tried to get her hands beneath her to push herself up, but the blonde man had only to press a hand on her back between her wings to settle her back down. Indrath's daughter behaved almost as if she were drunk and confused as the man continued rutting with her.

Indrath mentally tapped into the man's endurance, subtly tweaking it to reduce the sensitivity of his prick a bit so that he was far from finished.

The design of Indra's gown was such that her tail could be threaded through a hole sewn at the small of her back, and it was this which presented an obstruction to the man exposing any more of his Lady's skin. In what should have been an unforgivable offense, he grabbed hold of the base of her tail and jerked the gown further up while he pulled down on it, soon freeing the prehensile appendage and pushing it to the side. Next the blonde man slammed his hips against hers, holding her impaled against the desk as strong hands tore at the hole of her dress, soon ripping it up and down and throwing the gown open like a reverse robe to expose her back from nape to cunt. Then he reached around her wobbly wings to pull at the shoulder straps of her gown.

The blonde man was determined to strip her utterly naked. Groaning incoherently, Indra was unable to stop, direct, or help him, so he did as his lust demanded. He remained mostly clothed, and she was being dominated.

The big, human hands tugged the cloth free from under her then moved from her hips all the way up to her shoulders where he gripped her. There was a squelching noise as he withdrew his cock from her drooling orifice. His hips shifted to a new position and he drew back on her shoulders, forcing her to arch her back.

He spoke only two words— "Spread yourself"— and Indra dazedly obeyed. She reached back again, fumbling a little, to part her buttocks. Instantly the man pressed hard against her star, beginning to sink in immediately since she'd been teasing that orifice earlier. Indra gasped then groaned.

Indrath had watched it all, witnessed as the purple cloth was peeled down his daughter's body, her hair of nearly the same color covering her face. He watched as her broad expanse of skin the brightest diabolic red was exposed, her tail thrashing erratically as she was made to arch backward with her breasts thrust forward, as she obeyed the human's simple command. He watched the human sodomize his daughter with urgent force. Her whimpers and moans as the blonde bucked against her tugged at Indrath's heart, but she remained bent over and unable to gather back her control that she'd lost during her first climax.




Full Bloom in Winter



Lord Indrath had expected it to be this way. It always was, the first time, and he was not disappointed in her. She had to experience this on her own. This was why he hadn't allowed her to leave the Manor to seek sex essentially at random. How could he trust anyone in Winter Home with this vulnerability? It was possible to literally be fucked to death in the throes of the Ardeur uncontrolled. This was his greatest nightmare; that she be captured and tortured, possibly killed this way, simply because she was inexperienced.

Lord Rousse had his enemies, after all, and they were watching.

So he remained hidden in the shadows of his study, feeding his own heightened lust into the man, and in turn, into Indra. She was not feeling true pain yet, of that he was certain; her aura was too high and her eyes were still glazed with lust. But she felt lost; she could not think beyond the stretching, beyond the rough plowing of her netherhole. And she knew deep down it shouldn't be that way.

Of course she knew that. She was his daughter.

All the same, Indrath could feel it when she climaxed again, heard her groan hoarsely and saw her buttocks flex against the wondrous spasms. The blonde man gasped with pleasure, throwing his head back and going mostly still as he relished the feeling.

Lord Rousse gave in to temptation and chose to ride the man's senses, see through his mind, just long enough to know what it was like to feel his daughter's tightest hole clutching repeatedly around his cock as she orgasmed.

"Stop," she moaned after she'd come down, still looking drunk and disoriented. "...stop."

He didn't stop; he kept reaming her, clutching her shoulders hard as he rode her for a great long while. Her tail wrapped around his torso again as if it were a python trying to squeeze the breath from him, but it was far too slender to work that way. She grunted with each thrust into her body, and Indrath could sense when the natural lubricant from her sex had run out. Little hot shocks of pain started sprouting up through her mind more frequently, and she struggled more, tried to avoid the way his prick stabbed into her, without success.

Indrath waited long enough to see if she would pull herself together and use her will to command her stud, or if she didn't, he waited at least long enough that she would have a very sore ass by which to remember this valuable lesson. After several long minutes of her frequent cries, he finally tweaked the man's senses again, finally allowed the human cum.

"Oh...! Ah, yeah! Oh, my Lady, yes!" the blonde exclaimed in stark relief, gripping her hips again and slamming in one more time, holding himself there as he spurted into her. Short barks of pleasure punctuated each spasm which caused Indra to flinch as she took the first male cream of her life between her buttocks.

She blinked blearily as things got quieter again, understanding that it was over but her hand shook as she tried to raise herself part way up.

"Get it...out," she murmured, and winced in relief when the semen the human had deposited eased the withdrawal. Before she could do anything else, her lover kneeled before her backside again and gently started tonguing her sore netherhole. She felt strange and wasn't sure if she should be angry at him, at herself, if she should feel relaxed, upset, satisfied, humiliated...

She certainly felt spent. She let him stay as he was for a bit, bathing her throbbing orifice with a soft, wet tongue. She caught her breath still bending over her father's desk. When finally she wished to stand up straight, however, the blonde continued to lick her even as she tried, and she grew irritable.

"Enough!" she barked, though it made her head ache and she felt dizzy. "Stop!"

He did, scooting back from her before slowly standing up himself, his breeches still down around his thighs. His dark blonde pubic thatch was matted down and his spent cock was much redder than the rest of his pale skin. He blinked at her as though he were dizzy as well, slowly trying to draw up and fasten his clothing despite not having cleaned off yet. He bowed his head.

"My Lady," he mumbled, and still had the will to glance at her eyes, even if briefly. What was lacking on his face was any menace or jeering satisfaction for what he'd done. He looked confused as she felt, not quite controlling the look of fear which crossed his face.

Had her head not hurt so much, she might have tried to glean his thoughts with a magical probe, to get an idea what his perception had been. But she wondered now if she might pass out from the attempt; she felt that weak, nauseous, as though she had over-indulged in some potion or spirit...

When the blonde touched his head in much the same area where hers ached and he winced, she demanded sharply, "Does your head hurt?"

His eyes snapped back to her, absorbed her words, and he nodded. "Yes, my Lady. As though it's the morning after too much red wine."

Her expression narrowed, her backside still throbbing with pain. "What do you remember?"

He glanced at her naked body, at her purplish nipples, and his fair complexion blushed deeply. "Everything, my Lady."

She made no immediate reply, thankful that her own complexion prevented such shows of embarrassment. He had not lied, though he certainly knew he could be killed for what just happened. "I've never been taken before, and you hurt me. No excuses?"

The man swallowed, but shook his head once. "No, my Lady."

She waited for him to say he hadn't done anything wrong, or had just been doing what her Father had ordered, or what she wanted, only trying to please her. But he said nothing at all.

*Daddy...*

She looked around the study, her expression firm as she said loudly, "Father?"

The blonde man's eyes flicked just past her shoulder and she knew her father was standing behind her. So he hadn't left. She turned around, now scowling at him. He met her eyes with a placid expression.

*Daddy, how dare you—*

*Shhhh. That was your doing, my precious.*

*What?! My doing! No, you summoned me here, you brought him here, you chose him—!*

*Sooner or later you would have invited a lover to sate your Ardeur, my daughter. He could not refuse to participate, nor could he help himself once you ensnared him with your magic. You've seen me do the same with many others at my Manor, have you not?* Indrath smiled ever so slightly. *Much harder to control than you thought, is it?*

His daughter stared at him incredulously for a few moments, speechless. In spite of his deep desire to comfort her, Indrath remained stoic and waiting, his arms folded with palms on his biceps.

She looked angry as her eyes swept over the study to look at anything other than him or the blonde man still standing in the silence to await his fate. Her eyes fell on her ruined dress and she stepped to pick it up, holding it to her breasts as she pondered her father's words.

He was right in that she'd been tempted to choose a lover herself, and soon; she'd felt ready. She knew she had inherited the alluring presence from him; it would not be hard to coax someone to feed her growing appetites. Or so she'd thought. But she had never expected to feel anything like she'd felt in this room; it had been as if there was a third beast riding the both of them...and no one had had a way to bridle it.

It was undoubtedly true that the blonde man could not refuse Lord Indrath's instruction; she knew her father was powerful enough to take the man's will away entirely if he desired. The blonde also knew this; that was why he made no excuse for himself to her now. He understood something of the Lord for whom he worked.

Her father had called her here to his study, interrupted her when she'd been highly aroused, put the man on his knees before her where she knew the Lord of the Arcanum had Wards in place for anti-scrying and sound-proofing. No one—not even a servant with their ear pressed to the door just outside—would have heard anything, neither her screams of lust nor the sounds of sex nor later her wails of pain.

After some long minutes Indra finally she looked back at her father, worry crossing her face.

*I did that? When the human lost control?*

*Yes,* Indrath replied. *When you lost control.*

She chewed her lower lip a bit, her hand surreptitiously rubbing one buttock. *How can I control it?*

Her father smiled both in amusement and with warmth once again. That was his girl.

*Practice, my beloved. Just practice.*

She nodded and stepped hesitantly toward him. He knew what she wanted and he opened his arms to her. She stepped immediately and gratefully into the embrace, the torn gown still between them. Her scent was much stronger than his at the moment, for very good reason; her sweat could be an elixir for mortals. When she stepped back, she sighed softly and glanced toward the door.

"You are dismissed, my daughter," he answered softly.

She bobbed a short curtsy and began to turn.

"Indra."

She paused, looking around.

Indrath indicated the blonde man. "Take him with you. Practice."

Her mouth opened, but even she wasn't sure whether she would protest or actually refuse. She looked at the human again, appraising him, and realized despite the soreness that she had a new toy that was much better than the wooden ones she'd been using—and one of which her father approved.

She smiled and bowed her head again, then gestured for the blonde to follow her out of the study. He did.

Indra felt the draft in the halls, felt the eternal winter outside pressing in, more so being without a dress. However she just folded the ruined garment neatly over her arm and walked as if the cold did not bother her, walking one step ahead of the man, her wings neatly folded and her tail swishing calmly from side-to-side. It wasn't the first time servants may have seen her walking from one side of the Manor to the other in a state of undress, and Indra doubted it would change going forward. Not now that she had a real lover.

For practice.



Full Bloom



They ate, had diner and laid by a fire singing. Although the atmosphere was open he just couldn't listen to their folk songs so he went for a walk alone by the moonlight. Near the small lake he felt the need to pee. Most likely because the bathroom was nearby. Here was another draw back be cause the bathroom was just a shack that was placed over a hole dug for the season's waste. He saw the shack's log walls and he walked in. There he saw the hole and he saw his Mother squatting over it. 

She smiled at him and a string of urine poured from her bottom into the hole. "I'm sorry..." he said as he quickly turned around.  "No stay, I'll be quick." He stopped although he felt strange. His Mother however, thinking her son had adjusted well, treated it as just another natural element of their stay. As she peed she asked him. "How do you feel about being here?" He looked at her and said; "It's nice, very open..." She beamed at him while the urine splashed down in the deep hole. "Yeah, I love it here." She said and she stood up. 

She leaned her hip to her side and wiped her bottom with some paper. She looked at him harder. "How do you feel about being here with your mother?" "It's fine, feels normal......Sure" he responded  quickly. "Good, I'm glad." As she said that she walked towards him and gave him a big hug. He felt her breasts and body touch him. Her bare skin touched his for the first time and he felt her goosebumps. Her long hair nuzzled his body and he could feel her face against his chest. He put his arms around her back but before they crossed they brushed her protruding ass. She pulled him closer and he could feel her pubic mound against his leg.

She held his strong body and she felt his young skin. She wondered if she held him too close because she felt his penis against her stomach. Nothing new about that but she noticed it was larger than usual. It didn't bother her though. He was young and that was normal. Especially for people who weren't used to the valley. She felt it slide up her belly like a snake and it tickled her. She stepped back with a giggle; "Well son, I'm glad this place makes you comfortable." Forrest felt embarrassed. 

His prick stood out and this time he had no boxers to cover himself. "Uh, sorry, ..." he stammered as he tried to squat. But his mother wasn't fazed. "Really, Forrest. It's Ok. However you might want to wait before you go back to sing songs." And she laughed. "Yeah, that's a good idea" as he still squatted. Her face took on a companionate look that he new well. "It's ok, you can stand up. I'm gonna wait outside, unless you want to stay here and swim or whatever." She walked out and he slowly raised himself up, his rod ready for a flag.

Embarrassment filled his entire body like a sickness. Why did that happen? He didn't consciously think of sex. And why in front of his Mom no less. Good thing she was so cool. It was, like the usual morning bonner, he just couldn't help it. And what bad timing. Now he had to pee but it would require waiting for 'it' to go away. That hole was un-aim able. 

"Do you want me to wait?" his mother asked. "Uh, ...." He had to give in he couldn't stay but he couldn't go back and he began panicking. "Mom, what, ...what should I do? It, uh,...won't go away." 

She stood outside. As the night hadn't cooled the air, she felt relaxed and she only felt pleasure. Her son needed her like he did when he was young. Mother hadn't heard him ask for help in a long time. This was what she loved, it may be a guilty pleasure but she needed his dependence from her. He was out of his element and he wanted his Mommy.

"Honey, maybe if you want you can take a swim and that will...calm you down, Ok? Mom called to him. He stood in the hut, feeling embarrassed. He walked out with his hands covering himself but his pud still peeked through his fingers. "No one's looking, go ahead run and jump in." She said while looking around. He started for the lake and then stopped and turned. "Hey Ma, don't go. I hate to be found alone with no one to help... divert attention." 

She beamed on her insides and she was glad to help her son. "Sure, sweetie." She watched him run and jump in the lake. His buttocks bounced with each step and when he was in the water he let out a loud sigh. She giggled at the absurdity of it all and with that her nipples hardened. She glanced down and saw them poking out ready to feed. How much she wished she could. The thought of breast feeding her child made her feel so whole and happy. She walked to the lake's edge and watched Forrest swim. She remembered him suckling and that he did it for such a long time. Much longer than other kids. She laid down on the ground and propped her body up with her elbow. Forrest enjoyed the water because he stayed in for some time. But when he got back close to shore he had a concerned look on his face. 

"It won't go away." He said with exasperation.

She didn't know what to say and he looked very confused. "Well, Forrest your going to have long night out here unless you want people seeing that." She said. "I mean you might feel uncomfortable like that. I don't understand, is that normal for you?"  He waded in the water and said; "Not really. Well not in a long time." She looked at him bemused. "What do you mean Forrest?" He looked at her with some panic in his eye. "Well sometimes this happens and it just stays that way." 

Now she was a little annoyed. She didn't want her son walking around with a hard on but she didn't want to have him hiding all night either. "I don't get it, Forrest" She said with an incredulous tone. "You've walked around all day with...with...that way?" He sighed and felt the water rush around his balls. "Mom, I would usually, you know, take care of it." 

She looked at him even more doubtfully and then when she got what he was alluding to she raised her eyebrows. "Oh, Hm. Ok...well, do ah, do you...should you just..." Forrest's Mom sat up and tried to say it. He finally caved in; "Oh, Mom." And he headed for the shore. She got up and started to leave but turned and said. "Well I'll leave you alone, Ok?" He was already out of the water and trying to shake his hands dry. She saw his bonner bouncing.

He knew he needed cover and a look out doing it in the middle of nowhere, might be compromising. He looked up quick and said; "Uh, yeah the thing is someone could walk by and well...Can't you wait around and look out for me? I'll be quiet and stay out of sight." She knew he was right, people did have sex together but getting caught masturbating could be trouble. She rolled her eyes a bit, told him to keep quiet and went near the hut to scout.

Forrest's Mom was very patient but she was always upset when he masturbated, even though he tired to be inconspicuous. Hell, she never even liked when he came home late from a date. She knew what he was up to. She knew it was all normal but it still bugged her. 

Standing there feeling bothered, she suddenly heard the sound of people talking and it was getting closer. She knew people were heading their way for a swim in the lake. She turned and headed back towards Forrest. She rushed to the lake's edge before realizing what happened. 

She had barged in on him before but tonight was much different. There were no bed sheets between him and his Mother's eyes. She was watched him, stunned, while he worked his tool, unable to speak and unconscious of her presence. Forrest was lying on the grass, cock in hand, pumping away and rubbing his own balls. At first his eyes were closed but he felt a presence and looked. His Mother stood there muted at first, but when their eyes met she tried to speak. His name was the only thing she could utter. He looked at her, startled, and attempted to stop. 

Yet her hair was behind her back from running and her breasts were exposed. He looked at the large bosom, round hips and hairy pussy which boiled his loins. Then he saw her tummy, bellybutton and nipples. His brain filled with a chemical reaction that had only been tempted today and now it surged through his entire body. She had caught him this morning. He had seen her naked. He had revealed himself, nude body and opened mind, to her more than ever. Now his mother  was watching him play with him self. Why was his body surging with pleasure and why couldn't he stop?

His mind betrayed his morals. He wanted to kiss her. To squeeze her skin and taste it with his lips. He had subdued memories of suckling her, feeling her tits, her tummy and arms. He remembered her morning smell and how it saturated his nose, as his mouth pulled on her nipples. He thought of all her bathroom training she gave him and how she washed him. He remembered her hands on his 'pee pee' making sure it was clean, folding back the skin to see if it was nice and healthy. 

All these thoughts had been repressed as normal childhood but know they were in full bloom in his mind. These thoughts were suddenly sexy. He wished she would touch him or suck him or spank him. Whatever. His body and senses ignored any and all decency. Decency and morality welled up in his groin and became a bursting rush of ecstasy. Forrest's penis shot his load, fast, and the cum splashed his chin. 

Mom watched as semen filled her son's bare chest, stomach and fingers which began jerking slightly slower. Her mouth dropped open and she just stared at his naked body bucking with delight. He looked so guilty but he didn't stop staring at her. Nor she at him. His body was writhing and dripping with water and sweat. His pelvis had been thrusting slower, slightly and she couldn't help but be impressed. 

It immediately wreaked havoc on her mind but she liked the way he looked. Just then as he felt the orgasm pass and all he could mutter was; "Mom..." With that she did not shriek in horror or disgust as she thought she should. No, the first thought that he unadulterated mind formed was: 'He must be a good lover her.' She quickly recoiled the depraved instinct away. 'Why would I think that? How did this happen? Oh God, I think I'm wet...' she thought to herself.

These images were fleeting moments and those moments were catching up to them. The others were nearing the shed. There would be no time for discussion about guilty feelings or worse some sort of false rationalizing. Similar to the reality of Forrest's cumming in the presence of his mother, was the new presence of other people.

The End?



Full Body Handless Massage



We are having COCKtails at the local neighborhood bar. 

As we are sitting in the bar, we are sitting very close to each other where your legs are rubbing up against mine. I have 1 hand behind you just barely rubbing up against your ass cheek.

It's fairly noisy so you have to lean into me to talk so I can hear you and I am mesmerized by the breasts and the cleavage being displayed for my pleasure.

You know I am getting aroused and you place your hands on my thigh knowing that it is only going to make me HARDER!!

We decide that we are going to have dinner at restaurant next door.

We both are seated in our chairs but still need to be close to each other so we move our chairs together.

Under the table you place your hand high on my thigh this time so you can feel my hardness rubbing against your arm, which you stare in my eyes with big smile.

At the same time, I place my hand between your knees and slowly slide my hand up inside your skirt, feeling the warmth of your pussy as I get closer. 

To my surprise you are not wearing panties, you only wearing pantyhose. I then my fingers around your WET JUICY Pussy Lips as you squeeze your legs tight against my hand as you stare into my eyes with BIGGEST SMILE ON YOUR FACE U ever had!!

We continue this thru dinner, but decide to cut dinner short right after the 1st plates come to the table..

We leave the restaurant quickly, get into the car where we embrace deeply running our hands freely where we want to now.

I start the car so we can get back to my place ASAP, you are cuddled up next to me as close as you can. Then with my right hand I slide my hand between your legs again where you are dripping wet with excitement,

We finally make it back to my place.

I open the front door where you enter 1st with me right behind you feel my HARD ON against your ass cheeks where you arch your back so I can hold you closer!!

I walk you into the bedroom with my body right up against yours.

I have you standing before me facing the bed and I begin to erotically and seductively remove your dress kissing licking sucking all parts of your body. 

Then I unhook your bra and grasp your breasts with both my hands and kiss lick suck your tits and HARD NIPPLES.

I kneel before you, continuously kissing licking and sucking your breasts nipples down your stomach hips your thighs and lick your pussy thru your panties, then I slip my tongue under your panties so I can tongue your juicy pussy lips right then and there 

I have you lay face down on the bed with your arms extended out at each side and I grab your ass cheeks spread them as wide as I can and I tongue your juicy pussy lips from behind.

I know grab your panties from around your waist and slide them completely off you!!

I remove all my clothing now and rub some light oil all over the front of my body from my chest to my feet.

As you lay there naked face down, I begin at your feet, my lips kissing, my tongue licking and my mouth sucking your skin.

I am kneeling above you as I begin from your feet I move up the back of your legs and then from your knees my tongue starts down the inside of your inner thighs. You begin clenching your ass cheeks as I get closer with my roving tongue.

I continue to move towards your now Very WET Swollen Sweet Juicy Pussy Lips and poke my tongue as deep as I can spreading your ass cheeks with my hands, to finally get that sweet taste of you. Of course you are wanting me to continue Tongue Fucking your pussy and HARD Clit, but I must continue upwards with my mouth kissing and sucking your lovely ass cheeks.

By now you feel the Tip of my HARD COCK lightly brushing against the back of your legs and as I move up to kiss and lick the middle of your back, You raise your ASS in anticipation of my COCK sliding easily into that HOT Dripping Wet Pussy.

The head of my cock slips in those juicy lips just slightly as my mouth is at the base of your breasts and I dive my face as far as I can to get my tongue to reach those hidden very HARD ERECT Nipples as you feel my HARD COCK sliding between the crack of your ASS cheeks.

My mouth is now reached your neck moving to your mouth where we tongue each other deeply.

I continue to move above you as my HARD COCK slides up the middle of your back to your neck and eventually to you mouth where you swallow me whole for a few seconds.

I then start moving back down as you begin feeling my cock sliding down your back, between the crack of your ASS, where once again you raise up wanting me to enter you again, which I do with a Single Thrust and slowly withdraw, you clenching your pussy not to let me go.

My mouth has reached that Very WET Swollen Sweet Juicy Pussy, where I again spread your ASS cheeks so I can Tongue Fuck you for a minute or 2.

You have to come here to find out the rest!! I have to come and show you personally Cause it is no where near done!!

Mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmm lick lick slurping you all up!! My COCK is SOOOO Rock HARD now from telling you part of the Handless Massage

I proceed to massage my nude body with your now nude body from head to toe, from front

Te be continued...



Full Body Inspection



jay asked Master if she might be permitted leave to take a shower. She felt hot and sticky and hoped that it might clear her head and relax her a little. She was still feeling a little unwell from a virus she had, and maybe this would also help in getting rid of the muzzy feeling.

Master, naturally granted permission as He liked his slave to be clean and fresh at all times. jay went to prepare herself for the shower. That morning she had purchased a new hair removing product and thought that she would try it out. It was a light mousse and promised that it was suitable for all areas. Often jay had experienced burning from hair removal creams when used around her pussy, and had reverted to shaving. If this mousse worked, she would be even smoother than usual. She applied the mousse and then decided to use the time it took to work to shave her legs. jay didn’t usually shave her legs more than once a week, but knew that she had missed some hair last time – and as she had at least five minutes to wait, she decided to make a more through job of it.

Finally, her legs were done, and it was time to remove the cream. This could be done in the shower – no painful scraping of the cream. Quickly shaving her arms and washing her hair, jay put on her robe and toweled her hair, brushing it into shape. Walking back downstairs to her Master, she checked to see if He wished for anything, and then asked for permission to check the computer. 

Fifteen minutes later, jay was told that it was time for bed. Closing down the computer and locking the back door, she sought permission to go to the bedroom. Master looked up from His laptop and told her that she may – and to be ready in the present position, on top of the bed, in five minutes. By the time jay had roughly dried her hair and brushed it, it was time to get into position.

Master began with her face, having to brush the hair from her eyes, and remarking that it was time for a haircut. “Yes, Master” she managed to whisper as her body began to quake a little. This was the first time her Master had demanded to coldly inspect her body, and she was both excited and apprehensive.

His firm hands moved over her face and she felt herself begin to melt into subspace. jay blushed deeply as Master ran his finger around her jaw – she had a tiny mole on her jaw line, and often there was a hair growing from it. jay used to play with this absentmindedly, and a few days before, Master had caught her and told her that she must no longer do this. jay knew that as long as the hair was there, her fingers would find it, so, just that evening, she had run the razor over it, now she was so glad she had.

His hands traveled round to the back of her neck, and with a firm but gentle pressure, He made jay bow her head. Master then checked that her neck was clean … and then behind her ears. jay felt her face burning but also felt her juices beginning to stir. This was so humbling and humiliating that jay was being turned on despite herself. jay had not been instructed to speak, or to keep silent, but found that she was hardly daring to breathe, and answered her Masters comments with a ‘yes, Master’ or ‘no Master’ in a hushed tone.

His hands ran down her back, and jay gave a tiny shudder. Next they moved round to her large breasts. As He pulled at her nipples, her cunt reacted and she felt a sharp contraction. She must not orgasm, but was very close. Screwing her eyes tight shut, she tried hard to concentrate on what Master was saying to her – the comments about her body He was making. 

Once He reached her waist, He ordered His slave onto her back. jay laid down and parted her legs so that her knees were as wide as her shoulders, giving Master access to any part of His property that He wished to explore. 

Master checked her legs next – remarking on how the insects had had a feast at her expense. Moving up first one leg and then the other, jay found it difficult to keep still. Then came a great test of her endurance – Master began a minute inspection of her labia – tut-tutting as He found a few stray hairs that jay had missed. Without touching her now dripping hole, Master instructed jay to turn over and began to probe her anal opening. 

Finally came an instruction that jay was both expecting, looking forward to and dreading … “Onto your back and hold your legs up and wide.” jay immediately complied and tried not to twitch as Master began to probe her inner lips. He spent time on her clit and then moved to her urethra – pressing it firmly until jay was gasping. His finger entered her hole and He remarked just what a wet and horny slut she was. jay agreed that she was a wet slut and asked permission to cum for Him.

“Not yet, my pet. I may allow it once I have completed my inspection. He held up the speculum for His girl to see and she gasped as He slipped it into her – not needing any lubrication as she was dripping. The feeling of being cranked open was almost too much for jay and she began to tremble, begging over and over for permission to cum. Finally, he slid the speculum out and inserted three fingers – rubbing hard on her G spot.

“Cum for Me jay. Cum now”, and jay joyfully immediately obeyed.



Full Body Massage



A few months ago, for my birthday, my roommate got me a gift card for a free, hour-long full body massage from a local spa. She handed it to me in a pink envelope, which read 'Happy Birthday Courtney'. I thanked her for the gift but never actually thought I'd use it. But eventually the stresses of college grades and work finally caught up to me and I decided it would do me some good. 

When I called, some guy with an accent scheduled my appointment for 10:30am the next morning and asked me for the address. At first I was confused but was informed that rather than me going to the spa, the masseuse would come to my house. 

I woke up the next morning around 9 o'clock. My roommate had already left for work and I was all to myself. After I ate breakfast and took a shower I sat on my bed and painted my toenails while waiting for the masseuse to arrive. I wondered if it would be the guy on the phone. He sounded like he was attractive. Finally at about 10:45 the doorbell rang and I quickly got up to answer it hoping the guy who would soon have his hands all over my body, was someone I wouldn't mind being touched by. But to my surprise I opened the door to a female. 

"Hello, my name is Jana." She said. "I'm here for the 10:30 appointment." 

She was probably about late twenty's maybe thirty , with shoulder-length brown hair and smooth tan complexion. She wore a black skirt a few inches above the her knees, and a blue sleeveless , v-neck top. 

"I apologize for being late." She said as I invited her inside. "I had trouble finding the address."

We went on to my room where she handed me a towel and told me to undress and make my self comfortable on the bed. Then she left the room. 

'Oh well', I thought to myself. 'If it had been a guy he probably would have been gay and overly-professional.' I took off the shirt I was wearing and tossed it on the bed, then pulled off my pajama shorts and did the same. With no panties underneath I was completely naked. I had never had a professional massage before. I didn't know if I was to be completely nude or not. 'Oh well.' I thought. 'That's what the towel is for.'

I laid face down across the foot of the bed and covered myself with the towel. When she returned she was carrying a large hand bag from which she set out many different bottles of lotions and oils. 

She poured a hand full of massage oil and began with my neck and shoulders. I was instantly relaxed by her touch. I closed my eyes and let out a relaxing sigh. She was very good at her job. After giving a considerable amount of attention to my shoulders she continued slowly downward, to my sides and lower back. Then seeming to ignore the towel that was over my butt, she slid her hands underneath it firmly massaging my ass. I didn't mind though it felt good. After a moment she pulled the towel away and tossed it on the bed beside me.

"Those things just get in the way." She said. "Keeps me from doing my job." She slid her warm oily hands down between my thighs. I felt the edge of her fingers briefly brush my clit. I tensed up a little and gave a short, almost silent gasp. "Oh, I see your a little sensitive there." She said continuing down to the bends of my knees. "No." I said relaxing again. "Just slightly ticklish." She gave a subtle laugh as she gently bent my leg to massage my ankles and feet. 

I wonder if she realized what she had done. I wonder if she meant to. It felt good and I wondered if she'd do it again. She applied more oil to my feet as she carefully massaged my soles and between each of my toes. Then she worked her way back up the inside of my legs until she reached the same spot as before. And again I felt the edge of her fingers brush against my pussy. I slightly parted my thighs giving her hands more room to work but she didn't seem to notice as she moved upward eventually back to my shoulders.

"Okay, you can turn over now." She said as she walked over to table where the lotions sat. There I was now face up bare breasted. My nipples were a bit stiff from the cool air. I raised my head and looked down to see my bare pubic mound and pussy lips peeking out between my thighs. I felt a little on display, but also a little turned on as well. She looked through her handbag for a moment and then returned standing over my head. She started rubbing my temples then down over my neck and chest. She applied oil to my breast and began massaging them softly at first then increased the pressure little by little. She seemed to be focusing on my nipples, which was arousing me even more than her faint encounter between my legs. I began breathing heavier as my nipples grew harder. I closed my eyes and pushed my chest up harder into her hands. I guess she caught on because she started pinching my nipples. Then I felt her shirt sweep over my face just before her mouth met my breast. Her warm tongue circled around my swollen areola and I felt her hand slide down over my stomach and between my legs. Her oily fingers found my clit and gently stroked it before slipping down inside me. I was already wet and welcomed her penetrating touch. I moaned loudly as her finger slid between my nether lips and deep inside and I moaned again when she added a another finger. My muscles tightened around her fingers as she slowly pushed them in and out. Her mouth moved from one nipple to the other, back and forth ,nibbling, sucking and licking. As she leaned over me her large breasts brushed against my face. My arms were already over my head and I reached out and squeezed them. They were definitely real. I could feel her hard nipples stretching out through the fabric.

She slipped her finger out of me and slowly rubbed her hand back up over my stomach and between my tits. She stuck the two fingers into her mouth and sucked my juices from them. She closed her eyes as she savored the taste. 

She got up and walked around where she kneeled down between my parted legs. She gave slow, gentle, licks and kisses up my inner thighs where her hot mouth eventually met my clit. I moaned as she sucked it and tongued it. I spread my legs further apart and tweaked my nipples while her tongue explored my slit. She inserted her fingers in my pussy again. I pulled my knees up to my chest allowing her to push deeper inside me. My legs began to tremble as she licked harder and faster. Her fingers probed my g-spot and I could feel the orgasm rising in me. My whole body tensed up and I grinded my pussy against her fingers and mouth. She sucked my clit tight into her lips and vigorously flicked her tongue over it. Her fingers pumped in and out of my wet cunt and finally I released it. My body convulsed, my voice shook in half screams and went silent at times when I couldn't seem to make noise. I gripped the blanket in my fists and held it for the duration of my seemingly endless climax. 

Her tongue traveled upward and met with my tits again. She nibbled each of my little pink buttons sending waves electricity through my still quivering body. She pulled her finger from my pussy and held it to my lips so I could taste myself.

"Do you like that?" She asked. "Want to taste me?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded yes as she pulled up her skirt exposing her neatly trimmed, dripping wet snatch. She laid down and I got on all fours and buried my face in it sucking up her sweet nectar. She grabbed my head and grinded against my nose. Her pussy smelled and tasted so good. 

"Finger fuck me." She demanded. I slid my middle finger inside her gap while tongue tickling her throbbing clit. She got wetter and wetter and the more she dripped the more I drank. My free hand explored upward to find her soft full breasts. Her areolas and nipples were huge and very stiff. I felt her hand on the back of my head pushing my face hard into her cunt. 

For a moment I pulled my finger out of her so I could replace it with my tongue. I wanted to taste more of her. I used my fingers to spread her lips open and my tongue darted in and out of her sweet hole. Then I drove it in as deep and I could. I wiggled it around inside her getting a good taste of her pussy. She grinded and bucked her hips as my tongue slithered around inside her. 

"I'm gonna cum!" she screamed. 

My mouth went into a frenzy. I licked and sucked and stuffed two fingers in her wet love hole. I could feel her muscles tighten around them as she came.

After she caught her breath she looked at the clock on the nightstand next to the bed. Our time was just about up. Nevertheless she took a pink dildo from her bag and had me get on all fours then stuffed it in my gash. Her fingers worked my clit as she gave me a good, hard fucking. Within minutes I was cumming for the second time. 

She pulled her skirt down and straightened her top. All I could do was lie there on the bed in post-orgasmic delight, as she gathered her things back into the bag. It had been well over an hour now but rather than charging me for the extra time she handed me another free card signed 'Jana' at the bottom. She kissed me softly and I could still taste my pussy on her lips. "When you call, ask for me by name." She said.



Full Body Massage



You come home and you are beat. I can feel the waves of exhaustion coming off of you as you smile weakly at me. I take your hand and lead you to the bedroom, whispering to you that I want you to just relax and let me take your aches and cares away.

You stand there with your arms hanging down your sides and look around the transformed room, enjoying all the candles that are lit and the sensual aroma coming from them. I start to unbutton your shirt and slip it off of your shoulders and kiss your chest just a little. You tell me you are too tired but I just smile at you and say, "I know, baby, just relax." I unzip your pants and they come off right along with your shorts and then I sit you down on the edge of the bed and remove your sock and shoes.  

I take your hand again and lead you to the head of the bed and tell you to lie on your stomach and put your hands under your head. As you do this, I turn on the music and it softly fills the room. I get on the bed with you and remove my nightgown and then you get a whiff of cinnamon and you open your eyes to see what it is. I smile at you as I warm up some scented oil and tell you again to close your eyes and enjoy.

You do so as you feel my hot little hands start to caress your neck and shoulders, rubbing the warm scented oil over them. Kneading your muscles and turning you aches into little quivers of pleasure. My strong fingers find the little knots of tight muscles and they rotate and push and smooth them out. More oil is poured onto your back and the heels of my hands are moving from the base of your neck right down the middle of your back all the way to your sweet ass where they stop.

You are becoming aware of your cock starting to harden and then feelings of tiredness starting to leave your body as my magic fingers are doing you a world of good. I lean over you and you feel my soft breasts press into your back, sliding around massaging your even more than my hands. My nipples are hard and you feel them all puckered up and teasing your back. My hands are caressing and kneading from the middle of your back outwards to the sides and then my long red fingernails start to scratch lightly, running up and down both sides. Your body trembles and you squirm and tell me to stop it. 

I just increase the pressure and you moan and then I pour some of the warm oil right down your hot crack and over your balls. I spread your legs and you move them even wider as my hands start to grab your sweet cheeks and squeeze them. You ass is being spread and my fingers are running up and down your hot crack and then over your balls, covering you with the oil and I am sliding my hands and breasts all over you.

I reach for your thighs and work on those muscles also, as my breasts continue to caress your buns. Lower I work until I have eased the cramps in your calves and then getting to your feet, give them attention. Moving each toe apart and rubbing oil all over each one and in between them, then caressing your arch and taking away whatever little bit of soreness you had.

I start to travel up your body, but this time with my mouth instead of my hands and you moan and spread your legs even wider. I am so excited by now that when I reach your ass I bite first one cheek and then the other, not too hard, but enough to make you jump. I tenderly kiss and lick at your oil covered balls and then take each cheek in my hand and spread you wide, licking up and down your hot crack with my even hotter tongue. You moan aloud and I continue doing it, up and down, up and down and then all of a sudden, I start to suck on your tight little anus. 

My stiff tongue pokes inside and then around and around and then I suck some more, harder and harder and start biting your cheeks gently, giving them little nips and making noises as I am so excited.

I reach under you and find that your cock is rock hard and you are not in the least relaxed as I told you to be, but you smile down and me and shrug your shoulders and give me a wink. I grin at you and put my finger where my mouth just was and it slides right inside of your hot tight little asshole and your eyes widen in surprise. I roll you onto your side and my mouth now finds your cock and I start to nibble on it.

It is so wet from being so hard that I lick off all of your sweet pre-cum and then take it inside of my mouth and suck at just the head. Rolling my tongue around it and then licking up and down as my finger is sliding in and out of your tight little anus making you thrust forward each time my finger goes in deep.

You are moaning and this makes me even more excited and I suck your cock deeper into my mouth, sucking and licking and biting your cock. You are moving now as your cock is going in and out of my mouth and I suck faster and faster, my lips reaching from the base of your cock to the tip and then squeezing and nibbling at your little pee hole there. I stick my tongue inside and then suck all of your cock deep down my throat as my other hand cups your balls and I pull on them.

The different sensations are becoming too much for you and you start to buck faster and faster, making me suck and finger fuck you faster and faster. I insert another finger up you and you groan and I feel your cock getting even harder if that is possible and you are holding my head and guiding my movements on your cock now. Sucking harder and faster as my head bobs up and down your cock. Base to tip and then when deep deep down my throat you feel my throat muscles milking the tip of your cock and you go wild.

Bucking and thrusting harder now as my fingers are plunging in and out of your sweet ass, you are starting to twitch and you tell me that you are going to explode and this makes me squeeze your balls harder and pull on them and start to suck you even faster and harder. Ahhhhhh baby, yesssssss, you are so deep down my throat and your cock is just twitching and your ass is clenching my fingers and I am ramming in and out of you faster and faster as I feel your orgasm starting.

You cry out loudly as your body stiffens and my hot, wet mouth sucks even harder, knowing that you are moments away from an explosive climax. My fingers pump in and out deep and hard and then you hold my head so I cannot move as you erupt and start to shoot all your hot creamy cum deep down my throat. I am swallowing and you feel the muscles milking your cock as you spurt over and over and over again and I continue to suck and finger fuck you relentlessly.

You collapse back panting hard and your body is trembling as I gently kiss my way up your body and give you a kiss on your sweet lips. You reach for me and pull me close. I have knocked you out, so I get up and cover you with the sheet, and quietly leave the room. Sweet dreams baby...



Full Body Massage



My wife Meagan worked for a high tech industrial controls company and traveled frequently. Sometimes she was away for a couple weeks at a time and tonight she had been gone a week, with another week to go. We had a wonderful relationship, with intimacy, trust, and occasionally, wild sex. We took good care of each other and our relationship though sometimes the care we received came from startling directions. Tonight would turn out to be one of those times. 

My cell phone rang just as I walked in the front door, ready to start dinner for myself. It was Cindy, one of Meagan's local clients calling to see if I was free, that my wife had called her and suggested she call. Cindy explained the she and her partners were developing a variety of high tech exercise and conditioning products and she thought I might find myself well distracted if I'd volunteer to be a guinea pig. I have to admit that my male brain failed me in a time of need. Her voice purred and she wrapped me around her finger. I was completely unable to say no. Even with Meagan suggesting she call, the soft sexy purr in her voice didn't sound innocent nor entirely proper directed at what she knew to be a married man. She assured me it was simply a better than usual massage and that I'd enjoy it. I couldn't refuse her. It wouldn't be the last time.

It was a nice evening in September so I biked to their new clinic. The door being locked, I pressed the intercom button and recognized Cindy's voice when she responded. She buzzed me in and I walked down a simple curving corridor that opened into a beautiful and quiet naturally lit atrium, where I met a completely disarming woman. This was Cindy and her appearance was as distracting as her voice. A tall woman with long auburn hair and a good mix of muscles and curves in all the right places; exuding self confidence and a warm smile, she was quite striking. I was 55 and had slowly gained the confidence around women I had sorely lacked when younger, but I was nearly tongue tied and she was enjoying herself. As we talked though, she put me at ease. She told me a little of what was in store for me, but not much. They wanted the specifics left to them because the time wasn't completely structured, and the treatments were customized to client's needs as the evening went, but the idea was a thorough massage and bath, with the idea being to combine deep tissue massage and stimulation, with a goal of deep and satisfying relaxation and a complete if temporary escape from the stresses of life. A lofty goal directed at me; seems I always have work on my mind. I don't remember ever signing a release form so long for a massage before, but didn't pay too much attention; I was more than a little distracted by the heat I could feel coming from Cindy as she massaged my neck while I read. Such a difference from the many "normal" massage places I'd visited, I began wondering just what lay ahead.

Once the formalities were finished, Cindy showed me around. Explaining the curved entrance, she said that while simple and elegant, it also allowed windows and light at the entrance, but the curve prevented anyone from seeing into the atrium and thus it was very private and quite removed from the world outside. Surrounding the atrium, there were several closed doorways. Cindy said there'd be five massage rooms and a couple more with specialized exercise equipment, but at present only one was finished. She pointed out that while we had the place to ourselves, it would seem that way when finished as well, with each client scheduled to arrive at different times, and released when all others were occupied. Each room was completely sound proof for assured privacy and relaxation. I might have wondered more about the need to have massage rooms soundproof, but it slipped by. I'd fully understand a little later. Each was to have a shower and small seating area with a computer terminal for billing. And of course a massage table. 

I had been so distracted talking with Cindy that I'd forgotten that she was a client of Meagan's, and only now wondered what industrial controls might have to do with a relaxing massage. Cindy left while I stripped naked and lay face down on the table, pulling the sheet and blanket up to be proper. The table was not immediately comfortable, in fact it seemed quite hard, but there was an interesting texture to the surface. Cindy came in and started adjusting me and the table and I was again quite distracted by such a sensuous person so close. It was meant to be sensual, and it was definitely affecting me that way; starting a slow burning arousal.

She had me move a bit here and there, apparently needing me in just the right place. After adjusting the sheet and blanket, finally satisfied, she leaned down close and spoke in my ear. She asked me to relax and to put my forehead in the cradle and my hands down on the rail below the bench top, to allow my shoulders to relax. Cindy put a hand on my back and spoke quietly in my ear. "Just relax now, I'll let the table go" and the table morphed into a form fitting cradle for my whole body. It fit perfectly almost everywhere, allowing me to settle in three or four inches.

It felt strange but good feeling my whole body supported without any hard high pressure spots. I should have known better. My hands had come away from the bar and again Cindy spoke closely in my ear as her hand caressed my back. "Relax now" she said. "Put your hands on the bar like this..." and she guided one of my hands back to where they belonged. I jumped when straps simultaneously went around my wrists and parts of the blanket pulled quite snugly on my ankles and across the small of my back, tightening enough to be sure I knew what was meant when Cindy said: "Just to be sure you don't decide to leave early." I thought she whispered that with much too much delight. 

The table seemed to come alive at this point. My reaction was to struggle but Cindy was right there with a hand on my back and sultry voice reminding me that I had volunteered for this! She explained then that to really relax, one had to realize tension first, and if people came with no tension, they would create it one way or another. That said close to my ear, she proceeded to start raising the tension in earnest.

Cindy stood up and gave me a gentle over all rub, head to toe. Some sort of booties and mittens closed in about my hands and feet. Then things started getting really interesting. The table seemed to split a little and rollers came up to massage my belly. At least that's where they started. They seemed slippery but maybe I was sweating just a little. As the rollers massaged my belly, Cindy worked on my butt muscles, "Your butt holds tension" Cindy said. She continued right down in between my thighs. And the table opened more splitting into a vee, pulling my feet and legs apart. The butt massage was almost making me forget the belly rollers, but they were slowly moving south and started rolling a bit differently, pulling and somehow kneading the skin as they undulated and spun. About the time Cindy added more massage oil to my butt, the rollers got to my cock, pulling it down away from my belly, and somehow between things. Something cool touched lightly in my crack above my ass. It seemed to be staying cool somehow. "The lube's a bit cool today." Cindy said. Whatever it was moved down my crack almost to my balls and then back up, stopping for an instant right at my anus. Oh shit, I thought, no pun intended. It pushed a little, paused, and then suddenly slid right in. It was my first time restrained and penetrated by anyone other than Megan and I was surprised to say the least. 

It turned out to be an enema nozzle, and while it had distracted me for a second, I realized my cock was being pulled into something. And it felt wonderful. By now I was pretty hard, but mostly just nicely aroused. The enema nozzle wasn't static. A ring inside started expanding followed by one outside, locking it in place. Ohhhhhh that feels good. And then it all slowly expanded more. That was good too but required a much deeper breath. Cindy explained then that they needed a larger opening than was allowed by something easy to insert, so this would stretch me over the next little while. Any thoughts of work or projects needing my time were banished; all external concerns fled under the onslaught of the multitude of things happening to my body.

The belly rollers were on their way back up my belly but my penis was engulfed in something warm and pliable, sucking and pulling. Every time it pulled me all the way in, the head of my penis was caressed with something that made my toes curl right up. I had gotten hard a while ago and the tension was definitely building. Then the pulling relaxed and the suction diminished, but only for a second, then it pulled and sucked harder yet, and then relaxed again. And the flow started.

I'd forgotten Cindy for a moment but she was back, massaging my balls while I was filled and the rollers kneaded and my cock swelled. I was soon moving too much. The table stretched me out and I felt my head surrounded fully by a second half of the forehead cradle I hadn't seen. 

I was stretched out, and getting tense. No question about that. The flow into my ass stopped well before I was uncomfortable but I was full. The belly rollers did a good job working my abdomen over, loosening things up. The belt across my back seemed to work in concert with the rollers and the rest of the table. Everything it seemed was active. I could only feel all this now. There was music in my ears and I was completely blind with my eyes covered in the cradle. What had I gotten into? It was good I didn't know what was planned, I might not have volunteered and I would have missed what was to come.

All the movements slowed over a minute and for a moment I was disappointed that that was all there was. The music quieted and then I felt Cindy close to my ear. She told me that now that the setup and preliminary calibration were done, we could really get started. Huh? She told me just to enjoy and let go. With that, the music came up, and as if to let me know the extent of things, the gloves and booties gave a squeeze, the enema nozzle pulsed and gently vibrated, my penis leapt as the suction increased and then all was quiet again. Felt good to take a breath. I should have known. My anus clenched tight. And loose. And tight. And it wasn't me. Then deep inside muscles moved. And a strange tickle between my toes, and up my legs, suddenly all over my body I felt a strange sensation, and WOW. I'd have leapt off the table if I wasn't well bound. Little jabs of electricity bounced over my body, tickling and caressing and biting. Between my fingers, around my cock, over my balls, all with lightening speed and always rising just to the point of pain but never quite over the top. Then it settled down to stimulate my back and belly muscles, making each muscle contract and loosen, contract and loosen, all around my legs and arms, staying away from my genitals. It settled into a surprising nice rhythm, with waves of contraction and relaxation flowing through me. Just as I was getting used to it though, it started again on the inside, with a pulse on my prostrate, causing me to clench the muscles deep inside and then the anus again and around my cock, settling into another more delightful rhythm, and then right at the tipoff my cock! yaaaoooo Tension was definitely rising and I was beginning to need to cum.

I was getting close when the electricity ebbed. It didn't stop but receded enough to relax some, but then the water in my gut was pulled out and my belly compressed to squeeze still more water and the crap out. And then something tickled inside and I felt a river inside my gut. Something was slowly working its way up my intestines, washing everything clean but I was filling up again as the exit seemed to open and close depending on my stress and I couldn't figure out what else, until I was full to bursting, and then the exit only opened a little more while the flow kept up, changing temperature, and strength while the rollers again went to work on my belly. Things started getting really wild from there and I'm not really sure what all happened, but what I do remember was remarkable. The suction and milking of my cock increased and started driving me crazier. I could feel slippery stuff squirted in to keep things really slippery so I wouldn't get sore at the same time as the table stretched and shrank and moved me into rollers working every inch of my body. Cindy was there again. I was trying hump that cavity my cock was in, trying to get that tiny bit more that would put me over the edge. But then all would slow and leave me gasping. Somebody or something knew where that edge was and would keep me just away from it.

And it wasn't over. The pulling on my cock increased tempo and strength and I yelled my head off. The zaps were back all over and the water was sucked out of my belly, all orchestrated by the "billing computer" on the desk and Cindy's observations. "Wow" was saying way too little. Finally it felt as if I couldn't keep up. My insides were filled again, but with a pressure wave inside timed with the music and rollers, I was frustrated when everything slowed again. But it was also good to breath. As slowly as it had reduced the stimulation, it reversed and ramped up, going right past the intensity that kept me at the edge. With my prostrate vibrating, and my cock pulled hard into something, when the cavity walls around it started rolling back and forth, I was done. I exploded and kept cuming and cuming. 

Things slowly settled down. My wrists and ankles, which had been pulled tight for quite a while were loosened, but not released. Wow, I thought. Quite a massage.

I'd been overwhelmed and lost in the stimulation and don't know when the music stopped but I heard Cindy again. And felt her while she gently soothed my back and neck. She said that the computer had recorded what it needed to take me where she had in mind, and asked if I was ready to start again. I said I wasn't sure I could right then but Cindy assured me she'd go slowly. What's a man to stay?

The enema nozzle deflated and withdrew, only to be replaced by something larger with a different shape; and it pushed against my prostrate more. The usual feeling of having to pee was soon replaced with gasps as it started a strange pulsating wiggling zapping action. Again, I didn't have too much time to dwell on that as my cock was again pulled and kneaded. OHHHH and expanded into space. WOW. And then the electricity around my toes again and the bottoms of my feet. God that felt wonderful. And AHHHHHH my cock. Then a surprise as my nipples were sucked into something and vibration started. ARRRRRGH. All this happened in a strange flow of one thing to the next and yet I couldn't track it, but then all settled down to an almost gentle rhythm as Cindy started a real massage on the areas of my body open to her. The "electric" blanket was gone from my back and I'm not really sure what or whom was doing what all the time. By now I didn't really care. I let go and enjoyed, thoroughly lost in the bliss of arousal and overstimulation.

The action controlled by the computer slowly increased again and, as I learned later, Cindy orchestrated and augmented, as the computer, keeping good track of my arousal, took me to the edge and back away and to the edge a couple times more and then so rapidly up and over, it was mind blowing. I'm sure the sound proofing was a good investment. I came slowly down with surprisingly gentle and soothing electrical caress from the machine relaxing me. And then another surprise. 

A shower, if you want to call it that, started. Even though I was still bound, water spouted from the table and from above in a warm spray. I could feel myself lifted off the table as I floated on the flowing water. I fell asleep as Cindy shampooed my hair. I was quite thoroughly distracted, very clean, and finally, very relaxed.



Full Body Massage



Authors Note.

Thanks again to slavegirl70 for taking the time to edit this for me.

This is my second submission and I have taken on board some of the more constructive feedback from the previous and tried to improve the sense of perspective in this story. However if you are looking for deep and meaningful characters with well-developed plot lines, you will be sadly disappointed. 

I had fun writing this and I hope you have fun reading it.

Enjoy

*****

The room is dark, lit only by the light of half a dozen lightly scented candles, mixing to create an exotic atmosphere. Not that you can see the effect of the flickering light on your naked, stretched body. The instructions were simple, lie naked face down on the bed, your eyes blindfolded and arms handcuffed above your head. 

With sight denied all your other senses are heightened; you can hear each beat in the soft rhythms playing through the stereo, feel each light breeze as it caresses your body from the window that stands ajar, allowing the pleasant summer evening breeze access to the normally stifling room. You have lost track of time but it can't be more than 5 minutes since you read the instructions; already you are starting to feel relaxed despite the cuffs. Suddenly you become aware of a presence in the room, maybe the soft swish of the door over the carpet as it closes, maybe the silent intake of breath, either way you know you are no longer alone.

I can see you lying on the bed, your arms are stretched above your head, handcuffed to the end of the bed so that both hands are together, and your legs slightly parted. I pause in the doorway as I take in your beauty bathed in the soft candlelight. So perfect, so helpless. Silently I cross the room so that I am standing next to you, I don't know if you've noticed my presence near you yet, so I move towards your head and softly blow across your neck and ear, watching as goose bumps follow the trail of my breath. I lean in closer and in my deepest sexiest voice I whisper, "Good girl." I start to move down your back with my breath, again the goose bumps following as I travel across your body—all the way down your spine until I reach the small of your back.

I pour some warm oil into my hands and start to rub it into your back and shoulders, kneading and rubbing all the tension away from your tired muscles. I can feel you relax a little bit more every time I move to a new part of you. As I move further down your body, caressing and oiling as I go, you make soft groans as you feel tension you didn't realise you had melt away. When I reach the small of your back the groans start to take on a different tone, more animalistic, and as I reach your pert behind you start to spread your legs ever so slightly. 

I don't stop there, I squeeze and stretch your smooth tight buttock muscles until they give under my unrelenting fingers and it is as though your muscles have turned to putty in my hands. Slowly and tantalisingly, I move closer to your puffy outer lips, but bypass them as I work my way down. First your left leg, paying extra attention to the thigh muscles; moving my knuckles back and forth, creating waves of stress relief up and down your leg until it too is like putty in my hands. When I reach your foot I start to give it a complete massage. Your little moans of pleasure reassure me that it is as sensual as I hope.

I finish your foot and make my way back up your leg, this time kneading the muscles between my fingers and palms, as I move ever closer to where you want me. Your hips raise up to meet my hands, as once again I only just bypass your glistening sex and begin to knead your buttocks again. I manipulate first one side and then the other before starting for the other leg. This time as my hands move down your right leg, I ever so gently run a finger down one petal of your flower, causing the first true moan to escape your lips. I repeat every move down this leg as the other, paying just as much attention to this foot. 

As I approach your by now very wet pussy, you are almost straining for me to touch you, whimpering with a touch of pleading in it. I deny you yet again and continue over your cheeks, and while applying pressure I slide first my hands up your back so that my splayed fingers reach from one side of your ribs to the other, with my thumbs meeting just over your spine. Just as my fingers brush past the side of your breasts and continue up your arms, my body joins my hands and slides against your back so that by the time I am holding your handcuffed hands, I am stretched out fully on top of you with my rock hard cock nestled between your cheeks. 

Then almost as soon as I've stopped, I am sliding backwards, back away from you, dragging my hands and this time my nails as well back down your body, all the way down until I am once again massaging your feet. Back and forth, up and down. Each time I reach your shoulders you lift your hips as you try and snare my member in your aching pussy. Each time I move up I rub the swollen head of my cock up your clit and lips avoiding your oh so tempting opening. 

On the third descent back down your body I murmur, "It's time for your front now." Then I turn you over ever so carefully, making sure that your hands are as free as the cuffs will allow before pulling you down so that you stretch just that little bit more than before. Your gorgeous breasts are pulled tight on your chest, swelling with each lust-filled breath as I drink in the vision before me. Your nipples are standing proudly and not from the cold, although I believe the breeze is causing goose bumps to form across your areolae. 

Starting at your neck I apply more warm oil to your upper body, covering every last inch of exposed flesh with my touch and the oil. I don't stop in any one place long, but I do pay particular attention to your breasts and nipples, running them between each finger and gripping them between index and middle fingers while squeezing and stretching your breasts. Then suddenly I am back at your neck, massaging and taking all your stress away, replacing it with wanton lust and need. You beg me to touch you, to make you come, but I continue the slow, sensual massage as though I am deaf to your calls. 

As I move from your neck to your chest I avoid your nipples this time, to your frustration, adding to your mewls and moans. "Please?" you beg, "Please stick that cock in me now!" 

Again I ignore you as I move to your legs, which are now spread completely open in front of me giving me a perfect view of your beautiful shaved pussy, glistening with your excitement. It is all I can do to carry on with the massage, but continue I do, moving down your legs one last time. 

I move from between your legs and kneel next to you so that I can have better access to your entire body. Then I slide my left hand to your breasts and, while playing with each nipple in turn, pulling and squeezing, my right hand moves down to your sopping pussy. "Yes! Oh god, yes!" you cry out, "Play with my clit and cunt, make me come..." Gently I reach down and smear your juices around to coat my fingers, then I start to move them over your outer lips, slowly drawing circles around your tight hole, not quite touching your clit, which drives you mad as you thrash under my ministrations. 

When I decide I have teased you just enough, I stop and move to your clit, carefully releasing it from under its hood so that it stands proud, just like a little cock. And just like a little cock, I take it between my thumb and forefinger and slowly start to work it, up and down, around and around between my fingers. By now you are leaking cum furiously, making a small lake under your ass, all the time the moans escaping your lips are turning more and more into groans and the beginnings of the screams I am looking for. 

When I think you are almost there I replace my finger with my tongue, using it to pull on your clit instead, as I wrap it around the small nub, giving it a blowjob—sucking, licking and nibbling at it. At the same time, I place two of my fingers at your entrance and slowly tease them in and out not quite fully penetrating, just playing with the tight muscles that I find there, continuing the massage.. I work my fingers back and forth until they penetrate your tight pussy and I can feel your g-spot respond to their intrusion. It is already swollen and I trace it under my fingertips, firm yet giving, soft yet ridged—it's almost enough pleasure in itself, so much so that I could come just from pleasuring you, and I moan at the thought; my tongue and lips passing the vibrations to your very proud clit.

You are screaming unintelligible noises as you ride one orgasmic crest to the next, never quite coming down. Your pussy walls are now squeezing my fingers as if trying to expel them from your body. It is too much for me, I need to feel those walls and muscles contracting around my cock, not my fingers. So I withdraw my fingers again to your brief frustration, which lasts just long enough for you to realise that I am lifting your knees to your chest, and pointing my aching cock at my prize. 

You moan from the bottom of your chest as my rock hard and throbbing cock enters your sweet pussy, slowly impaling itself until I bottom out as deep as I can get. I stay there until I regain my composure, as just the incredible sensation of sliding inside you almost made me come. While I try to gain control by not moving, you can't stop and your squirming underneath me is driving me nuts. I can feel every swell and pulse in your cunt, and the heat from our joining is intense. Then as the edge fades away I start to pull out until my head is just about to leave it's warm home, I push back in with all the force I can muster, once again pushing you closer to the edge. Over and over I piston in and out of you, and each time I threaten to pull out you scream, "NO, NO, NO! Put it back in Pleeeeaaaseee?" Followed by, "Ungh, Oooooohhhhh, Yes, Again! Harder!" as it sinks all the way back down again.

In and out, harder and harder until the sweat is running off me and pooling on your flat stomach. I am so close to filling you I don't think I can hold on much longer, when you say, "Release me, I need to fuck you now." Kissing and nibbling my way from your breasts to your neck I reach up, pushing my cock even deeper if possible and making you come yet again as I hold it there throbbing in rhythm to your contractions.

I unfasten your cuffs.

The moment your arms are free you push me over onto my back without breaking our union. Now with you on top you set the rhythm, and it is furious. You go from slamming down on me repeatedly to teasing the head in your opening, all the time your pussy is squeezing my cock, making it my turn to groan and squirm under your control. Then you take my hands, force them over my head and hold them there while you use my cock as a fuck toy. 

I can't hold back any longer and match your thrusts with ones of my own so that I am very nearly bouncing you back up my cock every time you reach the bottom. It only takes three or four more of these before I too am screaming out, "Oh god! I'm coming, I'm coming so hard, don't stop, please don't stop!" 

That is when I notice the evil little smile through the lust in your eyes as you pull up and stop, just holding the head of my cock in the entrance to your pussy, moving backwards and forwards—just enough to keep me on edge but not push over it. I can feel the ridge around the head of my cock being held in place by the tight entrance to your pussy just threatening to pop either in or out. It is torture, not enough to bring me off but too much to let me down. My cock feels so much bigger, with each throb I think it will explode.

This pause only lasts a minute or two but it seems like ages before you are once again plunging down on my cock and the moment your clit grinds into my pelvis we both explode at the same time. You throw your head back as you wail your pleasure to all who care to listen, while my back arches and I feel my seed leave the end of my cock and fire up deep into your womb, over and over. 

My orgasm seems to last forever, just as yours does, It could maybe even have been two in a row but I'm so lost in the throes of the pleasure you have just given me it all just rolls into one long all-consuming moment. All I am aware of is your pussy wrapped around my cock, milking it of every last drop, and your hands gripping my chest and nipples. 

As we come down from our mutual explosion you lay on top of me, grinding your entire, oil covered body over mine, while my cock twitches with aftershocks. Your grinding and rubbing starts off as random movements but soon develops into a more purposeful motion. I can feel our nipples rubbing together, sending electric shocks throughout my chest. Your hands start moving over my sides and arms, spreading your oil all over my body, so that it is impossible for us to stay in one position for any length of time. At no point do we break contact, lips and tongues included, as they dance like lost lovers with minds of their own. 

You place one hand behind my head, and breaking our kiss you lift yourself and my head up, until you place your nipple between my lips. I need no more encouragement and start to play with it between my lips, flicking my tongue over the very tip with feather-light strokes. All the while you have been teasing my cock with your pussy, squeezing and grinding, in an attempt to revive it before it can retreat. 

Unsurprisingly, with the attention the rest of my body is still receiving it seems to be working, as I feel it throb, once again filling with hot blood on its way back to full hardness. You groan as you feel it throb as well, pushing my head over to your other nipple at the same time. I treat this one like the other and tease it with my tongue while squeezing it between my lips. Your breath is getting ragged, as you let my head drop so you can use both arms to start riding me, my cock starts to grow once again, only this time inside you.

It doesn't take long before you reach that place of bliss, and as your walls tighten around me you scream out in pleasure, sitting up and arching your back, using our locked hands to give you balance.

It takes you a few moments before you once again look deep into my eyes, that devilish glint reappearing. As you slowly rotate your hips you lift off my impaled member, taking a finger you run it up the length of your slit before placing it on my lips whispering "Wait here, I will be back soon."

Leaving me with your taste on my lips, you walk out of the room.



Full Body Massage for Mom



For years there has been a rift growing between my parents. Mostly it was concerning my father, who, although a good guy, was not the most romantic person. I remember my mother telling me how romantic he was when they were younger, but somehow over the years, when he began focusing more on work and getting promotions, he began neglecting my mother. He was always coming home late, always forgetting their anniversaries, Valentine's Day and her birthday, and always promising to do things with my mother but instead bailing at the last minute to go out to play golf with his bosses or clients. She had confronted him many times about it; he then makes an effort to be more romantic, but eventually falling back into his neglectful ways.

So instead, whenever he bails on her, I end up picking up the slack and do these things for my mother that he should be doing. I take her out to dinner, I watch these romantic comedies with her, I get her gifts for her birthday and valentine's day, I sometimes dance with her, I even give her foot massages when she needs it. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy doing some of these things with my mother, it makes her happy and it makes me happy to see her happy. My mom and I have always been close, but still, these are things that my father should be doing himself. These are not things that a 21 year old college student should be doing with his free time. He's her husband; he's the one that should be doing these romantic things for her instead of having his own wife look towards her own son for some male attention. Eventually, it got so bad that I had to have a sit down with my own father.

One night when he came home especially late, I waited up for him to come home while my mother was sleeping upstairs. He came in at around 1am, trying to be as quiet as he could. I turned on the lights and gave him quite the scare.

"Dammit, John, you scared me," he said.

"We have to talk," I said.

"Not now, I'm tired, I want to sleep."

"No. Now," I demanded.

He followed me to the kitchen and we sat down to have a little talk I explained to him about the situation with him and mom, how he had been neglecting her. I explained to him how I've been doing some of these things that he should be doing with her, and how it should be him, not me, doing these romantic things for her.

"I don't know what to tell you, son," he said. 

"I'm sorry that you have been the one to do these things for her, but what can I say I've just been too busy."

"Well you have to make the time, your wife needs you."

"What should I do?"

I couldn't believe that he couldn't figure any of this out himself. It's his wife, he should just know.

"In a couple of weeks is your anniversary, it would be nice for you to take her out to dinner and by her some flowers. Maybe even get her a pretty nice gift as well."

"What kind of gift?" he asked.

"That's up to you, not me."

"Please son, I need some help with this."

"That's not my problem, you have to figure it out yourself, and I can't solve this problem for you." With that said I got up and went to bed, leaving him to think about what he needs to do. For the next two weeks, I was afraid that he might forget about our conversation and find a way to bail out on his anniversary. But to my surprise he didn't as I found out on the morning of their anniversary when I was awaken by my mother's laugh.

I walked out of my room and looked through my parents' bedroom and saw that my father had brought her breakfast in bed.

"Look what your father did, Johnny," she said with glee.

My mother was in bed, wearing a white nightgown, with the blanket covering the lower half of her body and a silver breakfast try sitting on her lap. My father was sitting at the end of the bed, cutting up her pancakes and feeding it to her. I left, smiling and proud of my father. It didn't end there, that night he brought her flowers and candy and took her out to a dinner at a very expensive restaurant. They came home late at around 2am. I was woken up by them laughing all the way up to their bedroom. I kind of knew what they were going to be up to next and went back to sleep.

At around 7am, I was woken up by my father who was dressed up in his golf clothes.

"Listen, I have to meet a client on the range and I need you to do something for me," he said.

"What?" I asked with a groggy voice.

"I need you to make your mother some breakfast and take it up to her."

"What?"

"And when you do, give her this," he handed me a piece of paper. "Tell her it's been redeemed."

"What is this?"

"It's a coupon," he said. "I made him some romantic coupons for her. It's a bunch of nice stuff to be done for her. I redeemed one coupon for her last night, if you know what I mean." I said nothing, just stunned that my father joked about having sex with my mother and bailing out on her the morning after and once again leaving me to pick up his slack. Before I got to say anything, he quickly walked out of the room and a moment later I heard him leave the house. I got up, got dressed and washed up, then went downstairs to make my mother some breakfast. It took me less than an hour to make her blueberry pancakes (her favorite), and some eggs and coffee. I put it all on a tray and carefully took it all upstairs into my parents' bedroom. My mother was underneath her blanket, sound asleep. I woke her up by gently calling out her name, her eyes slowly opened and she looked surprised to see me standing there with a breakfast tray.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Dad had to leave, he asked me to bring this up to you."

"Oh you've got to be kidding me," she said angrily. "Did he at least make that breakfast?"

"Yes," I said. I know I shouldn't have lied for him, but I wanted her to be at least somewhat happy.

"At least he did that," she said.

She moved herself up in her bed; the blanket fell off her body and stood there in shock as I saw her bare breasts. My mother saw the shock on my face and she quickly covered herself up.

"Oh, honey, I am so sorry," she said. "I completely forgot."

"It's ok, mom, it was an accident."

"Oh, I feel so embarrassed."

"It's ok, mom, I'll leave the room so you can get dressed and I'll bring this back in."

I quickly left the room; set the tray down on the floor so I could close the bedroom door. Then I waited for my mother to let me know she was ready and I could come back in. In the meantime, I was still thinking about my mother's breasts. Mostly I was thinking about how gorgeous she looked naked. I always thought my mother was a beautiful woman. She's the envy off all the other mothers in the neighborhood. At age 43, she still had a great body from consistently going to the gym; she had luxurious chestnut hair and a very young face that made most people think she was my older sister, not my mother. Now I have seen her breasts. They were D-cups for sure, and they were still full and firm for someone her age, and I was getting excited about thinking about them. I was getting a little hard-on thinking about it when my mother called out to me that I could come back inside. I told her I'll be there in a minute, giving me time to concentrate on thinking about other things so I could get rid of that hard-on I was sporting so she wouldn't notice. When it was gone I opened the door and walked into her bedroom with her breakfast. My mother was wearing nightgown and sitting up on her bed with a big smile on her face.

"Again, I am so sorry about what had just happened," she said.

"It's ok, it was kind of funny."

We both had a good laugh then I put the tray in front of her and fed her like my father did the day before. We talked and laughed a little and when she was done eating I took the tray downstairs and did the dishes while she took a shower and got herself dressed and ready for the day. A few hours later she left the house with some friends of hers and when the coast was clear I did something I never thought I would ever do. I went into my mother's bedroom and went into her bathroom. I opened up the hamper and found one of her bras on top. It was a black, lacy bra that she probably wore the night before. I picked it up and put one of the bra cups up to my face and took one big sniff. I then dropped my pants and began jerking off with the bra still on my face and thinking about my mother naked, and me making love to her. A half hour later, I shot a large was of cum into the toilet and flushed it away. I put the bra back into the hamper in the position that I remember it being in and went back to my room and for the rest of the day, felt guilty about what I had done. I didn't know what came over me, I never thought of her in a sexual way, but seeing her naked for the first time did something to me. I decided to put on some porn dvd's I had and jerked off to the images of sexy women closer to my age as a way to make me forget about what had happened, and it worked.

Over the next week, not to my surprise, my father had found ways to bail out on performing these romantic coupons for my mother, and once again I had to make up for it by doing these things for her, things that I was already pretty much doing, but nearly double. I was glad to do them to make her happy, and we never mentioned about me accidentally seeing her naked, and eventually I forgave myself for what I did afterwards and let it go as a one-time thing. Although it did get a little weird for me when I took my mother for a picnic on the beach where she wore a bikini and I put suntan lotion on her.

One day, I heard my parents arguing downstairs from my room, my mother was yelling to him about how he was being neglectful again and how it was horrible thing for him to dangle those coupons in front of her and not do any of the things she wanted to do with him.

"I want to do these things with you, not my own son. The only time you take any of those coupons is when it's for sex, and you're the one who asks me to redeem them. It's more for you than it is for me."

"I'm sorry, I've just been busy," he replied.

"You're always busy. You don't have to work so hard, you're already successful. You have to be here to work on your marriage."

This went on for a long time; eventually they stopped fighting and made up. To make up for it, my father cooked a nice romantic dinner for the both of them. I left the house while they ate and returned a few hours later only to hear them having loud sex in their bedroom. I decided to let them have more privacy and returned much later.

The next day, I came home late at night and ran into my father who was on his way out.

"I need you to take care of your mother tonight," he said and passed me another one of his coupons. "I got a big meeting with a very lucrative client.

"Oh, no you don't," I said. "Whatever you promised her, you have to do it."

"I can't, I have to go to this meeting, this is the only time that guy can talk to me. And I have to leave now because it's an hour drive."

"But, dad—"

"Thanks, you're a great son," he said and ram out of the house.

I looked at the coupon and it was for one full body massage. I went to my mother's bedroom and knocked on the door, a moment later she opened it up.

"I'm ready," she said with a big smile that quickly went away.

My mother was standing at the doorway, completely naked. As soon as she realized it was me she slammed the door. A minute later she opened it up again and was dressed in a robe.

"Oh, I am so sorry," she said. "I thought it was your father, I didn't expect you home until later."

"It's ok, mom. Really, at this point I'm used to it."

We both chuckled and that eased the tension.

"Where is your father?" She asked.

"He had to leave."

"Dammit!" she yelled.

She stomped back into her room and I followed her.

"He gave me this before he left and asked me to do it," I said and handed her the coupon.

"This was supposed to be a romantic thing for the both of us. What is wrong with him?"

"I'll tell you what, let me give you that massage," I said.

"What?" she asked.

"Let me give you that massage. I don't mind, I put suntan lotion on you before."

"That was different," she said. "I was in a bikini, and it was just suntan lotion. I'm going to be naked and you will have to rub down my whole body."

"I'll stay away from certain areas, and you'll be laying down on your front."

She thought about it for a minute before she responded.

"Well, I could use a good massage; your father has left me very tense it would be good for me."

"So let's get to it."

I left the room and waited for her to let me know when she's ready. Two minutes called out to me and I came back inside. She was laying down on her front, naked, except she was wearing some white panties. I walked up to her and sat down on the edge of the bed. I looked down at her, her eyes were closed, her breasts were pressed down against the bed and I could see the naked sides of them.

"You ready?" I asked.

"Ready," she responded.

I began with the neck and shoulders, I could tell she was nervous about me touching her, I was too, but eventually we both relaxed as we both really got into the massage. I dug fingers deeply, but gently into her soft skin, pushing away the tense muscles. She moaned gently as I did this and asked me to go lower. She moaned as I worked my way down her back; I was tempted to make an accidental slip and touch the sides of her breasts but I pushed back the urge. I was getting excited about touching her like this, but I couldn't let it get to me. I went down to her lower back and that's when she really began to moan and telling me how she was enjoying this.

I went passed her ass, again, resisting the urge to touch her there, and went for her legs. I rubbed down one leg, as I did this her legs opened up and I got a good look between her legs. I forced myself to look away and began massaging the other leg. Afterwards, I gave her a foot massage. I had my back to her so I could avoid looking at her body and just focus on massaging her feet. As I did this, she began to moan even louder. She never moaned like that whenever I gave her a foot massage in the past, but including the full body massage I gave her just now it only made the foot massage more sensual for her.

I finished up her feet and stood up from the bed.

"That was amazing," she said looking up at me.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," I said. She stood up from the bed, holding blanket up over her breasts to cover herself up.

"I know you didn't have to do this, John. Or any of the things you've done for me in the past. I just want to let you know that I really appreciate it."

"Its ok, mom, I'm just glad to make you happy."

"Before you go, can I get you to redeem one more coupon for me?" she asked.

"Sure," I said.

With one hand still holding the blanket, she used the other to open her nightstand drawer and pull out a coupon and gave it to me. It said it was good for one good kiss on the mouth.

"really?' I asked.

"Yes," she said. "And you better make it a good one."

I walked up close to her and quickly gave her a big kiss on the mouth. It felt wonderful, I never felt as excited to kiss a woman as I did with her. When I let go of the kiss she took a few steps back and dropped the blanket, this time it was no accident. She stood there, naked, except for her panties, smiling at me. I gave up, I couldn't resist any longer, I pulled off my shirt and dropped my pants and boxers to reveal my 8 inch hard-on. I grabbed her and held her close, her breasts pressed firm against my chest and gave her an even bigger kiss. We stood there holding each other as our tongues danced in each other's mouths, my hard on tapping the inside of her leg.

I guided her to the bed and laid her down on it, still kissing her. With one hand I took off her panties and gently placed that hand between her legs, playing with her warm, wet pussy. I kissed her down her neck and then down to her breasts where I began sucking on them. They felt wonderful against my face. She held my head against her breast as I began sucking on one of her nipples while at the same time I stuck three fingers inside of her pussy.

After a while I repositioned myself on top of her, she spread her legs wide open for me. I looked into her eyes as I drove my cock right into her body. She gave out a small grunt from the pain of me going into her. The feel of her pussy around my cock was better than any other woman I had sex with before. I didn't waste time as I began pumping my cock into her hard and rapidly. She breathed heavily, holding me close to her, nails digging into my back.

We rolled over and she was on top of me now. Her hands were firmly placed on the headboard, as she began grinding her hips around my cock. I had one hand in a tight grip on her hip, and the other up grabbing one of her breasts. I enjoyed looking up at her beautiful body as she was working hard on fucking me. I never had a woman on top of me before, it was an amazing experience. She grinded me good and hard, and I in turn did my best to push myself upward into her. 

She got off of me and moved down my body. She took my cock and put it all in her mouth. Her head bobbed fast while her lips were firmly sealed around me shaft. Every now and then she deep throated me and gagged a little.

She finished sucking my cock and I got her on her back again and put cock back into her pussy. We held each other tightly as I forced myself to push harder into her and faster into her body, as she screamed into my ear in both pain and passion. Eventually her body arched up and shook as an orgasm shot through her body. I held on for as long as I could but eventually with one last thrust into her body I shot every ounce of cum into her.

....................................................................

We laid there for a long time, still naked, with her head against my chest.

"I'm going to divorce your father," she said.

"I figured that would eventually happen," I replied. "Will you be ok?"

"I'll be just fine," she said. "I got you to take care of my needs."

"I'll always take care of your needs."

"Good," she said with a big smile. "Now fuck me again."

We fucked again, and nearly every night since then.

THE END!



Full Body Search



Working in Customs at the local international airport could be a drag at times. Nobody knew this better than Steve Wormill. He had gone through enough bags and purses in the first 3 hours of his shift for a lifetime, all with no results.

Steve's job was to search for any drugs that might be illegally entering the country. More than often though, he found nothing.

But he would be the first to tell you this job also had it's perks. Namely, the foreign women who came through, visiting America for the first time, and speaking little English. Steve had occasionally used his authority to strip search some of them in the private room Customs had for suspects. A few times Steve could get the woman to go all the way, and he could always count on his authority to keep them from talking.

Today was no different for Steve than any other. Many people came through his gates, many bags were searched, nothing was found. He was beginning to think the day was a waste when he saw her.

A beautiful tall brunette walked through his gates. She was wearing tight jeans and a white t-shirt, through which Steve eyed her D-sized tits. With her hair down and sunglasses on, he first thought she was Shannon Elizabeth, the actress who garnered fame by going topless in the American Pie movie. As she approached the counter, Steve asked for her passport. 

"How's it going today?" he asked while looking over her passport. She was a first time visitor to the U.S., straight from the Czech Republic.

"Going? Where are we going?" she asked in a deep accent, unsure of his slang.

Perfect, Steve thought, her English is touchy at best. This could be fun.

"I mean, how are you?"

"Oh, I am well," she answered with a smile, as she removed her sunglasses to reveal chocolate brown eyes. 

"Good," Steve said as he asked for her to put her bag on the counter. As she did he reached below the counter and picked up the small bag of marijuana he kept there for just such a purpose. She never saw it in his hand as he reached into her bag.

"Whoa, what is this?" Steve asked, holding up the small bag.

"I do not know, it is not mine," she said, startled.

"This is an illegal drug, miss. I'm going to have to ask you to step over here with me."

"What is problem?" she asked slowly.

"Just step over here with me, ma'am." Steve said, leading her into the private room. He switched the light on to reveal an empty room with one table and two chairs in the middle of it.

"Please stand up against the wall, miss," Steve said firmly as he put her bag on the table and lead her to the wall. "Right there, up against the wall, facing me," he ordered.

"What I did do?" she asked fearfully. "I have no drugs."

Steve continued to search through her bag, pulling out her things and putting them on the table as he did. After going through the entire bag with nothing else, he looked at her standing there. His mouth began to wet at the thought of what he was going to do to this gorgeous Czech.

"Ma'am, this is a very serious thing here," he said holding up the bag of pot. "As the Customs Official, I cannot allow drugs into the country. Do you understand?"

"Yes, but I have no drugs. It is not mine," she said motioning to the bag.

"I hear that alot, ma'am." Steve sighed, acting like he was trying to figure out what to do next.

"I'm afraid I have no other choice but to search you. I can't allow drugs through here."

"Search me? I have no drugs!" she said, pouting.

"Ma'am, please remove your clothes," Steve said firmly, as he put on a pair of rubber gloves.

"My clothes, but why?" she asked naively.

"Alot of people hide drugs in their underwear, in their bras and panties. I have to make sure you don't have any hiding there," Steve said, eyeing her perfect body.

"I do not." She said it quickly, eyes widening in fear.

"Ma'am, if you don't let me search you, I can have you arrested and sent back home, do you understand me."

"Yes, but..."

"No buts!" Steve shouted at her, coming within inches of her pretty face. "If you don't do everything I say, I will have you arrested! Do you understand! Now, take off your clothes!"

"Ok," she said quietly and began removing her shirt and pants. When she was just in her underwear, she paused.

"Take it all off! This is a very serious incident ma'am, and if you do not obey my every command, I will be forced to arrest you! Do you understand!" Steve shouted again, startling her.

"Yes," she softly said, tears forming in her eyes. "Please do not arrest me, I do what you say." 

With this, she undid her bra clasp and let it fall to the floor. Her full D-cup breasts burst into view, wetting Steve's mouth even more. She slowly pulled down her panties, revealing a cleanly shaven pussy that she tried to hide from view with her hands.


"Ok, now turn around," Steve said, picking up her clothes and making a show of checking them for more drugs. She turned to face the wall.

"Now, bend over and grab your ankles," Steve said hoarsely. She turned to look at him, but he grabbed the back of her neck with an intensely strong grip. Steve's job did require a bit of physical strength at times to restrain unruly visitors at his Customs desk. He made sure to work out and he was rewarded with the muscles of a bodybuilder. He used his force now to bend her forward.

She said nothing as she bent over, giving Steve a great view of her pussy lips reaching back to him.

"Spread you legs," he ordered. Again, she looked back at him in confusion and shock. But Steve said nothing as he took a small jar of Vaseline from a drawer and started to lube the glove on his right hand.

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to do a full cavity search on you. Many drugs are hidden there," he said sternly, putting his left hand on her butt-cheeks and pushing them open.

"But I have no drugs in my butt!" she exclaimed in that cute accent that made Steve's dick jump in his pants.

"I have to check. Now if you don't want to be arrested, spread your legs."

She made a soft grunting noise in protest, but did as he said, opening her ass-crack and revealing her puckered star. Steve's lubed finger started tracing a circle around her hole, covering her with the lube. She tried to look back, but Steve ordered her to face the wall. He heard soft sobs coming from her throat, but she made no protest as Steve slid his well-oiled finger into her anal cavity. 

She let out a sharp breath and her body shook as he pushed his finger deeper into her out-door. Steve's dick began to grow as he slowly turned his finger around in her butt-hole, wiggling it a little now and again as if searching. This made her body quiver, but she still made no other sounds. Steve figured he had her in the palm of his hand now, believing she would be sent to jail if she didn't do what he wanted. 

He continued to wiggle his finger inside her ass, as he brought his other hand underneath her, in between her legs. "I have to search here too," he said as he cupped her pussy with his gloved hand. She whimpered, but made no protests as he began rubbing her pussy lips. Slowly he inserted one finger past her fleshy fold into her love canal.

"Ooooo," came quickly from her mouth as he inserted another finger into her soft cunt. The sweat dripped from Steve's forehead and his cock threatened to break through his pants as he inserted yet another finger into her tight vagina.

Her body quivered at the feel of the intruders inside her, pushing their way deeper into her pussy and ass. Her legs began to tremble as Steve wiggled all his fingers, and her knees buckled.

"Move over to the table," Steve ordered as he removed his three fingers from her cunt. He kept his finger in her asshole as she straightened up halfway and slowly walked to the table. Steve walked behind, making sure his finger remained as still as possible as she walked. He didn't really want to hurt her, just pleasure her, hard.

She bent over the table and laid the top half of her body over it, face down. He didn't know what she was thinking, but she didn't speak or try to move with his finger in her ass.

Again he brought his other hand up to her pussy, and repeated the earlier operation. First one, then two, then the third finger entered her warm cunt. Steve licked his lips as he began to move his fingers in and out. She moaned softly as he wiggled the finger in her ass and began to finger-fuck her pussy. 

He slid his fingers up her cunt faster, and she let out a quick gasp. Steve could tell she was beginning to enjoy this, and the glistening moisture from her pussy told him he was right. He continued to slide his three fingers up her pussy, thrusting a little faster with each minute.

"Ohhhh," she moaned, then said something in her native tongue that Steve didn't understand. She began to buck her hips in unison with his invasive thrusts, and when her hand reached back to finger her clit, he knew she was ready.

Steve removed his fingers from her pussy, keeping the one from his right hand buried in her ass. She squealed slightly in protest as he pulled them out, and for the first time since he bent her over, she looked back at him.

Her eyes, still moist with tears, gleamed with lust. She knew now that he was going to fuck her, and she wanted it as much as he did. 

He unzipped his pants and pulled out his 9 inch cock, hard as a rock. She licked her lips in anticipation as she saw his prick spring free.

"Do you want this?" Steve asked as he saw her eyeing his hard cock. "Do you want this cock in your pussy?" he asked, holding it just inches from her dripping slit.

She could feel the heat from his hard prick on her pussy lips. All she wanted was it inside her, to fill her up.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" Steve asked again, waiting for an answer. "Do you?" he screamed, wanting to hear her say it in her thick accent.

"Yes, yes, fuck me, fuck me hard in my pussy!" she exclaimed with unbridled lust.

"That's what I needed to hear. You want it, you got it, sweetheart," Steve said, knowing now that he would get away with this fully.

She turned back to face the table as he slid his dick into her now dripping cunt. Slowly, he inched inside her. She made little gasping noises as he went deeper and deeper. She was speaking in her native tongue under her breath, and her finger continued its buzzing on her clit.

Steve pushed deeper until his entire cock was inside her tight, wet cunt. He held that position for a moment, savoring the tight wetness that surrounded his cock. 

"Oh, fuck yeah, you have one tight little pussy, miss," Steve breathed out as he prepared to fuck her silly. 

Then he pulled it almost all the way out, until only his head remained in her. She wiggled in anticipation. Suddenly he slammed his prick deep into her, and she yelped with joy. He began to thrust his rock hard cock into her, pushing all the way into her cunt before removing almost the whole thing, then doing it again.

He pounded her fresh pussy again and again as she bucked her hips back into him. He fingered her asshole wildly as his dick slammed her cunt over and over. She was breathing heavy now, close to an orgasm. Steve slowed his thrusts a little, trying to prolong the ecstacy.

"Yeah, your a little European slut aren't you," Steve muttered as she moaned with his thrusts.

"Do you like American dick?" he asked, as she looked back at him with half-closed eyes.

"You have much bigger cock than men in my country," she said in that accent.

"Yeah," Steve said, "Do you like it?" He loved to hear approval from his partners.

"I love it," she moaned breathlessly. "Please keep fucking me, I want to cum on your cock," she said with a bold smile. 

That was all Steve needed to hear.

She grunted in pleasure as he started to pick up the speed again. She begged for him to fuck her, to make her cum. A torrent of dirty words poured from her mouth in a language Steve didn't understand. But he did understand her body language, which begged him to fuck her hard and fast. He complied and soon he was moaning in pleasure too.

"Ohhh yeah, you tight little slut," he moaned as she bucked under him. "I'll make you cum like you never have before."

As he fucked her tight cunt and plunged his finger deep in her asshole, she fingered her clit wildly. Steve felt her cunt walls contract around his dick and he plunged his finger deeper into her asshole as she screamed with the unbridled orgasm that washed over her body.

Her juices flooded over Steve's cock and her body shook with wave after wave of pleasure. Soon Steve had to cum too.

"Ohhh fuck yeah, yeah, your so tight," Steve shouted as he felt his orgasm swell in his balls.

"Ohhh, I'm gonna cum."

As he pulled out of her, he removed his finger from her ass, and quickly spun her around by her hair. She immediately knew what was happening and what he wanted. She lurched forward to take his cock into her mouth and began sucking hard on his spewing dick. As Steve unloaded wave after wave of cum into her mouth, her tongue worked furiously over his cock, slurping his juices down her throat.

Strings of cum hung from her chin as he pulled out of her mouth. She quickly lapped them up off her hand as she wiped her chin. Steve collapsed into one of the chairs, exhausted and fulfilled as he put his limp dick back into his pants and zipped them up.


She sat on the table, a look in her eye that made Steve shiver. She silently began to pick her clothes off the floor and put them back on.

When she was dressed, she asked in her deep accent, "Can I go now?"

"Remember," Steve said, panting, "Don't tell anybody about this or you could go to jail."

"Ok, I will not tell," she said, with a small smile on her face. She picked up her bag and slowly exited the room, looking back at Steve one last time as she left the room. The smile on her face told him that she wasn't going to tell anyone. He watched her tight ass as the door shut and she disappeared.

Yeah, Steve though smiling broadly, this job definitely has it's perks.



Full Body Workout



Note: I have edited this story to make it better. 

*

It was late in the day when Harry got to the gym. It was a 24/7 place with tinted windows. There were only two people there. One was somebody he didn't know very well. The other (to his delight and surprise) was Sara. She was 6'2 with long blond hair in a ponytail. He'd had a crush on Sara for months, but they were currently just friends. He put his stuff away and started with his workout. He began with some chest exercises. Then he went on to his abs. Halfway through, the other guy in the gym left, leaving him alone with Sara.

Sara finished up working her back, and walked over to Harry. "Hey there Harry!" She said smiling.

He returned her smile. "Hi!" He said.

"You've really been coming along." She said. "You're getting kind of big."

"Yeah, I'm making improvements. He said. "But you've been at it longer than I have. You're really toned." She was. After five years at the gym, she had a rock solid body, but not too muscular, weighing 165 pounds. Harry had only been at it for two years, and his body, though not gigantic, was muscular. He weighed in at 170 pounds. As for the rest of him, he slicked his light brown hair back, and matched Sara's blue eyes.

"You know," She said, "I've seen you checking out my body every now and then."

"Oh, I didn't mean anything by it!" He said, a little embarrassed.

"I don't mind" She said. "I've been checking you out too."

"Really?" Harry said with a sly smile.

"Yeah, you're cute." She said. "Hey, I'll tell you what. Are you up for something wild?"

"Maybe." He said. "What do you have in mind?"

"Let's get naked, and compare bodies!" She said.

"That's pretty wild." He said. "I'm game."

Sara jumped right into it, taking off her T-shirt, then her sports bra releasing her large firm tits. Meanwhile, Harry kicked off his shoes and socks, then his T-shirt. Next, Sara striped off her shoes, socks, and pants. Her pink panties were now visible. Harry pulled down his workout shorts. They were now both mostly nude. Although Harry wasn't quite the picture of Iron Man, he was lean, with a visible six-pack. Sara was also very lean, with the slight definition of a six pack.

"Nice!" Harry said as he walked toward her and cupped her breasts, giving them a squeeze.

"Yeah, you like those, don't you? I've seen you sneak a peek at them sometimes over the last few months." She said.

"Oh, yeah! They feel better than I imagined." He said.

"You want to go the rest of the way?" Sara asked.

"Yes." He said.

They both reached down and peeled off their underwear. Now they were completely naked. They looked down to see each other. Harry was mostly erect, his cock protruding out about 5 inches. Sara's pussy was neatly trimmed, her lips clearly visible below her mound. They reached down together, Harry cupping her Mons pubis, Sara grabbing Harry's dick. They both stroked each other, getting into the heat of the moment. Now his cock was its full 6 inches long and 6 inches in circumference.

"Wait a second." She said. "Want to play a game?"

"What kind of game?" He asked.

"The naughty kind." She said with a smile. "I want us to get hot and sweaty before with make out. We'll compete at 5 different exercises: push-ups, pull-ups, bench press, dead lifts, and squats. When one of us wins an exercise that person gets a wish performed by the other person.

"Ok. That sounds fun." Harry smiled.

"Which one do you want to do first?" She asked.

"How about push-ups?" He asked.

"That's fine." She said.

"Ladies first." He said.

Sara got to the ground and into position. She began. One, two, three, four... Passing 50 she kept at it. Little beads of sweat were forming on her smooth body. Up to a hundred, she was getting tired now. Her push-ups were getting slower. She finished at 145.

"Very impressive!" Harry said, clapping his hands.

Sara bowed slightly. "Thank you!" she said between breaths. "Your turn."

Harry got into good form and then started his set. Usually, on a good day, he could perform 200 push-ups. But he'd already done an extensive chest workout earlier. He was only able to crank out 132.

"Ha!" Sara exclaimed. "I win! Let me think now. What wish are you going to grant me? Ok, I've got it. I want you to lick the sweat off my belly, and then eat me out for a few minutes."

Harry smiled. "With pleasure."

Sara sat down with her arms behind her supporting her then spread her legs. Harry got into position. First he bent down and kissed her navel. Then he started licking up the sweat all over her tummy. He enjoyed her salty taste. After a little of that he lowered his head farther and gave her clit a little flick of the tongue. Sara shivered a little from the pleasure. Now Harry was really going to town on Sara's pussy. She was wet with her juices and moaning out loud.

"Yeah, I love to hear you enjoying yourself." Harry said.

"Oh, yes! You make me feel so fucking good!" She said. Harry got her nearly to orgasm before she stopped him. "I don't want to cum just yet." She said. "I want it to last."

"Ok." Harry said, and stood up. There was just a little moisture on his lips. "Now I get to choose an exercise. We'll do the deadlift."

This time Harry started first. He loaded a barbell with 100 pounds, then got into proper form. Holding the barbell firmly in his hands he lifted with his legs. He did 43 reps before lowering it to the floor.

Sara looked at the barbell doubtfully. "I'm not sure I can even lift that!" She said.

"Do you give up then?" Harry asked.

"Not by a long shot!" Sara said with a slight smile.

She got into position like Harry had done, and to her delight was able to lift the weight. But she was only able to do 12 reps before she had to stop.

"I win!" Harry exclaimed.

"Well, I guess I'm your genie in a bottle." Sara said. "What's your wish?"

"You may not believe it Sara," He said. "but I'm never had a blowjob."

"Really?" She asked.

"Yeah. Never."

"So, that's your wish?" Sara asked.

"Yeah." He said.

"Well, I've given them before, so you're in good hands." She said.

Sara got down on her knees in front of Harry. His cock was rock hard and sticking out in front of him. First Sara grabbed his dick at the base and stoked it a few times. She flicked the tip with her tongue, then she took the head in her mouth. She swirled her tongue around it as she took it in more and more. Harry was moaning every couple of seconds. She expertly sucked him off at a nice steady pace for several minutes. Finally, Harry couldn't take any more and exploded in Sara's mouth. Spurt after spurt filled her warm, wet mouth until it overflowed a little. She tilted her head back and gulped down Harry's delicious cum. She licked her lips and asked, "How was that?"

"I've never experienced anything like that before!" Harry said.

"I love the way your come tastes!" Sara said.

Harry reached down and lifted her to her feet. Then he kissed her on the mouth, tasting just a hint of his own cum. Sara smiled and kissed him back.

"How about pull-ups next?" He asked.

"Ok." She said.

She went first, walking over to the pull-up bar and grabbed ahold of it. She started; one, two, three, four... She kept it up. She reached 50, and was still going at 75. She made it to 125 before she dropped back down to the floor.

"I'm spent!" She said.

"That was pretty good!" Harry said.

Next, it was Harry's turn. Without too much difficulty, he got to 40. He kept going. He fatigued at 77.

"You win again." He told Sara. "What's your wish this time?"

"I want to ride you cowgirl style!" She said.

So Harry put down a mat and laid down, while Sara straddled him. His cock was hard again and slid with easy into Sara's dripping pussy. Sara began to bounce up and down on him.

"Play with my clit!" She said. So Harry took his thumb and rubbed it over her nice, large clit. Sara was moaning with ecstasy, her tits bouncing all over the place. Harry could feel her pussy squeezing his dick, and he loved it. He had good staying power, lasting 12 minutes, timing it so he could cum with Sara. Harry moaned out loud unloading his come into her, and Sara screamed as she came, spraying her sugary cum all over his torso. She let his dick slip out of her pussy, then she lowered her head down his body. She lapped up her own pussy juices with her tongue. "Mmm, tasty!" She said.

"Let me taste your lips!" Harry said. She kissed him deeply. Harry could taste her pussy juice that Sara had lapped up with her tongue.

"Alright, time-out." Sara said. "I need to rest a little.

"Me too, actually." Harry said.

They walked over to one of the benches and sat at opposite sides catching their breath. "So, I guess this means that things between us are going to be different now." Harry said.

"Yes. But I think in a good way." Sara said. "I've always liked you. I'm just not use to dating guys like you. I guess that's why I haven't pursued this."

"I liked being your friend." Harry said. "But I've always been attracted to you. I've wanted this for so long. I'm usually in the friend zone with girls. I don't know why."

"I understand." Sara said.

"Well, I'm ready to begin again." Harry said.

"Yeah, let's get to it." Sara said. "Two more to go! Let's do the bench press now."

Harry started first. He put 200 pounds on the barbell, then started. He was able to do 24 reps.

Next, Sara began. She was did an astounding 31 reps.

"Man! I shouldn't have worked out my chest today." Harry said. "What's your wish?"

"How about a 69er?" She asked.

So Harry got down on his back, and Sara laid on top of him. She took him in her mouth while Harry bent up and licked her beautiful trimmed pussy. He flicked her clit, then the bottom of her labia. Then he stuck his tongue into her twat.

Sara kept swirling her tongue around and around his rod. Every now and then she'd take him down her throat. After several minutes of play, they increased their pace until they finally both exploded in each other's mouths. The floor was a little wet now. They grabbed some paper towels and cleaned it up, not wanting to leave evidence of their adventure at the gym.

The last exercise was the squat. They decided to use the squat machine for convenience and comfort. Harry put 200 pounds on the bars. He went first, managing 30 reps. Next, Sara went. She only managed 18.

"So that's 3 for you, and 2 for me." Harry said. "I have one more wish. I want you to suck me off, and then come all over your face."

"Ooo, I like that!" She said.

As he stood over her she knelt down in front of him and gave him his second blowjob. She worked him at a feverish pace, as if she was eager for his climax. Four minutes later he pulled out, aimed his cock at her and blasted her face with lots of cum. Her face was now dripping with his seamen. She took her fingers and collected his cum, bringing it to her lips where she slurped it up. She stood up and they embraced.

"I'll never forget tonight." He said.

"Neither will I. And it's not over between us." She said. "By the way, I won 3 out of 5 of the events, so next time I see you I get another wish!" She smiled.

"That's fair. I'm looking forward to pleasing you again."

They got dressed and headed out the door. Luckily that hadn't gotten caught. As they headed their separate ways they both gave one last glance at each other.

"What a workout!" Harry thought to himself.



Full Bowels



We've been down the pub again with some of your stupid workmates and their tart girlfriends. After three hours we're all halfway drunk and I've had enough of having my arse pinched and tits squeezed by boozy-breathed oversized rednecks. 

I stub out a cigarette and give you the eye. You've been leering down the dress of your mate's girlfriend at her pushed up tits. You'd be disappointed if you ever got her bra off, 'cos they'd fall down to her belly button. You smile back at me shamelessly and I mouth at you that I want to go. You raise an eyebrow and I mouth back that I have to go to the loo. You know that the toilets here are filthy and that there are always queues. 

You pause for a few seconds letting me stew, then chug down the glass of beer before you. We stand and say our goodbyes, you getting a kiss from miss pumped-up-tits and getting in a good feel; me getting a couple of pats on the backside as I pick up my bag and move down the table.

We only live five minutes away but in the car I tell you to hurry 'cos I really need to have a crap. That greasy rancid bloody food at the pub has gone through me. You laugh and put your hand on my belly, pushing and making me groan. 

On the doorstep you tell me I have to suck your dick for a minute before you'll open the door. I swear at you and stamp my foot, but I feel a little tingle of arousal and don't protest much when you put your hands on my shoulders and push me to my knees. You rub your crotch against my face and I can smell stale piss in the denim. The tingle of arousal strengthens. I want you to pull down your zip and jam your dick in my mouth, taking control; but you hesitate wanting me to fish for your penis. 

I win and with a curse you undo the top button, yank down your zip and reveal your cock. It is sweaty and rank from being cooped up all day, and I desperately want to get it in my mouth, though I continue the game and wait for you to feed it through my lips. 

In seconds I have sucked all the day's dirt off it and coated it in saliva. It is getting nice and fat as I slide my lips down it and nestle my nose in your thick pubic hair. You want action and put your hands on my head so that you can fuck my mouth. God I love this. You are now at your full 8 inches and my mouth is stretched wide to fit around you. You told me once that you'd never been deep throated before meeting me and at times like this, as you pull me back until just your velvety glans is between my lips then thrust forward till your balls slap my chin and I feel my throat bulge with your length, I wish you were even bigger than you are. 

I am feeling pretty horny and the thought of a mouthful of your cum is making me work my lips and tongue urgently over your shaft. I push your jeans down so I can get my hands on your lean arse. I cup your cheeks and pull you towards me, getting you an extra half inch into my throat. You groan then laugh. Grabbing me by the hair you pull me back right off your cock and tell me I'm not going to get your jism yet.

We go into the bedroom and I head for the bathroom. You call me back and tell me to take off my clothes for you. When we are both naked you kiss and fondle me, then say you want to fuck me in the arse. I tell you I need to go to the toilet first but you laugh and say it will be more fun this way. I try to get past but you grab me and throw me face down on the bed. I struggle to get up but you plant one big hand firmly in the small of my back and land a few powerful smacks on my buttocks. I yell and swear at you but I am wet between my legs and I'm afraid you'll hear me squelching as I squirm around on the bed. 

You give me a few more stinging smacks and I can feel that hot glow beginning that you only get from a properly reddened backside. You ask if I'm going to be a good girl now, but I tell you to fuck off and try to push you away. You reward me with the kind of spanking that a girl often dreams about but so rarely gets. I manage to get a hand on my pussy without you noticing, I think. God, if only I had a cock in my mouth as well….

You stand up breathing hard and tell me to get up on my hands and knees. Snivelling, I obey, knowing that you can undoubtedly see all the wetness on my thighs and my swollen gaping cunt. Your fat cock sways upright and I know that you are as turned on as me. You have the KY jelly from the dresser and start coating my bung hole. I sigh as first one finger then a second push inside my backdoor. You chuckle and slap my crimson buttocks with your hard fleshy dick. I bite my lip to stop from begging you to fuck me. Then I feel the fat head against the pucker of my arse. One hand goes on my hip and, holding me steady, you push. I bear down to receive your cock and in one slow steady thrust you get the entire length inside me. It's a massive invasion and my breath goes out in a whoosh. 

As you start to rock back and forth I am almost painfully reminded that my bowels are already full and that I still need desperately to have a crap. Even so, it is real sexy and I ease forward onto the mattress, still keeping my arse high to receive your magnificent cock. I've never felt so full and moan each time you thrust forward. Having my arse fucked always makes me feel overwhelmingly oral. In the absence of a cock, I jam a couple of fingers in my mouth and suck between moans. My other hand is planted on my pussy and I can feel your sack rest against my knuckles each time you bottom out. 

As you pound my arse you tell me that you can feel all the shit up inside me, how it's all soft and how you're packing it back up my guts. You tell me that when you pull out your dick there are long brown streaks along it and when you jam back in, it froths around my tight stretched anus. Sure enough I can smell my plundered arsehole and I suck even harder on my fingers. 

Whether you can sense my orgasm coming on or not, you start smacking my buttocks again and I feel myself tipping over into climax. I thrash about and scream around my fingers, my other hand pressing on my clenching puss. I lose sense of time and place and give in to the waves that are wracking through my entire body. 

When I come to, you are leaning forward on my raised buttocks, puffing and panting. I feel a couple of dying pulses from your cock and realise you have just spurted deep inside my rectum. I am hot and sticky with sweat and other juices and badly want to go to the bathroom. Your hands clamp onto my waist pinning me to the bed and tell me to be still. I beg you to let me up because I really have to go to the toilet now, but you keep saying just a minute. Then I realise you are pissing inside me. 

A lurch of lust runs through me at the sheer nastiness of it. I ask you what the fuck you think you're doing, trying to sound outraged and disgusted. You laugh and say that you've got about seven beers worth of piss stored up and figured it would turn me on if you gave me a hot piss enema. I tell you you're a filthy sick pig but you just keep on laughing and pissing and tell me I'll really have a worthwhile crap when you're finished. My gut feels stretched and bloated and the pressure in my bowel is painful. 

By the time you're finished pissing I am groaning from the discomfort. But it is unbelievably sexy and I can feel my taut nipples grazing against the quilt and my little clitty straining. You slap my still-glowing butt and slowly pull out. I clench my arse to prevent any leakage and roll gasping onto my back to relieve the pressure in my gut. I can feel the piss sloshing around inside me and I feel weak in the lower body as I cramp. 

You are standing above me, your long cock hanging down glistening and greasy with a mixture of shit, jism and urine. I see a couple of ropey strands of white semen and the odd brown streak and flecks of shit. There is still a drop of piss at the eye. I whine at you to help me into the bathroom but you see me eying your cock and tell me I've got to clean you off first. I try to hide my eagerness and you have to reach down and force my jaw open. But once your cock is sliding past my lips I can't stop myself from licking and sucking it, savouring the earthy salty flavours.

I am getting carried away suckling on your pulpy cock when a gurgling in my bowel and a wrenching cramp bring me back to reality. I don't think I can hold it in much longer and with your help I hobble into the bathroom and almost fall onto the toilet. There is a massive fart and I feel the enormous release as my bowels open and the rank brew of excrement sperm and urine gush out. Again the feeling is intensely sexual. 

You lean smiling smugly against the door until the smell drives you out. The toilet is filthy and I can feel splashes of muck on my backside. I have a quick shower, but get another cramp and have to sit again on the loo. This is more of a normal crap, but it still feels a bit erotic and I clench and release my stretched arse a few times. You come back in and ask if I'm having a good time. You must see that I'm feeling a bit lusty because you walk over and rub your cock around my face. I don't make any pretence this time and follow it around with my mouth open until I capture and engulf it. There is still a faint taste and aroma from my arse and I set about cleaning it more thoroughly. 

You tell me what a slut I am and how you wish you had some more piss for me. I tingle at the thought. Your cock starts to thicken and my sucking becomes more sexual. Your hands go to my breasts. God they ache for your touch and I mumble at you around the cock in my mouth to squeeze them. Your cock is slow to come fully hard, but my nipples respond instantly to your rough mauling hands. You notice how pointy they are and grab each one, twisting and pulling them. I groan in lust and work feverishly at your cock, taking it deep deep into my throat. As you cruel my tits, I get a hand on your balls and return the favour, twisting and mashing them. Your cock jerks in my mouth and I hope that I'm about to get a blast of cum. But you've got other ideas and tell me you want to fuck.

Back in the bedroom I want you on your back so I can ride you and build an orgasm at my own rate. You play with my tits as I sit skewered on you, leaning slightly forward, grinding my clit on your pubic bone in a circular motion. I feel your cock deep inside me and I feel all liquid around its steely shaft. I'm not doing anything more than clench and grind, and you can stay hard forever like this. I lean down every now and then so that you can suck first one tit and then another. My breasts aren't big, and with one hand squeezing it and your mouth on the nipple, you can completely cover one. It's really nice and I sigh and coax you. 

I am feeling like a long fuck and work my hips slowly, making sure I get lots of tit action from you. But eventually I feel my orgasm coming and urge you to bite my nipples. As your teeth nip and graze across first one taut nub and then the other, I am launched into a lovely deep seated cum that washes over me. I collapse forward onto you and my hips pump frantically up and down that hot rod embedded in my centre. I know I am mewling into your shoulder, but it is long moments before I regain control and lie heaving on top of you. 

Now I want you to fuck me hard, driving that long fat pole repeatedly into my depths. You pull out, roll me onto my back and crouch between my legs. I hold open my puffy wet labia and tell you to go ahead and jam your dick in me. Instead you tell me you are going to fuck me in the arse again, now that it has been cleaned out. I get that familiar lurch in my gut and feel my face flush in anticipation. I get on my hands and knees on the edge of the bed so you can stand and fuck me, knowing that I'll get a proper plowing like that. I feel you smear some cold KY on my crack and probe a little inside my pucker. 

I look back at you as you get ready to grease up your cock and tell you in a slutty voice not to use too much. Your eyes narrow in lust and you barely coat the flared knob of the club jutting from your groin. Then you step up behind me, workmanlike, and I shiver in anticipation. As you bring your cock into position to butt-fuck me I sway away and you jab my buttock instead. You curse and I giggle, but again I move when you are trying to gain entry. You call me bitch and swat my backside. I tell you to think twice if I was just going to kneel there and let you bugger me. You curse and spank and then dig your fingers into my waist and bring your cock to my tight little rosebud. This time you get in and I make you struggle for every inch gained. 

It is soooo good to have you penetrate my sphincter and as soon as I feel your grip on my waist ease I pull forward so that your cock plops out and, cursing, you have to fuck in past my clenching ring all over again. But once you are fully in me and I feel that thick cock deep up my guts, I stop any pretence at struggle and tell you to get on and fuck me properly. You get to work and I am not disappointed. Maybe it's the lack of KY, but there is more friction and heat than usual. Your cock arrowing into my bowels feels like it is churning up my guts. My knees feel weak for a moment and then I regain control and start bucking back at you. 

This is turning into a real fine fucking. I tell you that you are a sick pervert who just wants to demean decent girls and force them to do unnatural things. You call me a slut and tell me I only get turned on by base acts. I say you are hurting me and that you'd better take your dick out of my poor bottom. I tell you it is a nasty deformed thing that shouldn't be inflicted on any girl. I go ow, ow, ow, ow, ow. You tell me that if I don't shut up you will take it out of my arse and make me beg to put it back in. That keeps me quiet for a while and I concentrate on clenching my sphincter around the pistoning shaft, making you groan and buck harder. You tell me that I can't make you cum any quicker and that you're going to pound my arse till it's so sore I'll be crying. 

I reach underneath and grab your swinging balls, twisting and squeezing and tell you that I doubt if you're man enough to give a poor gal a proper bum fuck and that next time you take me to that wretched pub I will look around for someone who knows what a grown up girl really wants. You growl and start spanking me between each thrust. The loud smacks are really turning me on and I let go of your nut sack and frig my clit. 

But I'm really into the talking now and say that if you were a half-way decent arse fucker you would have made me cum at least twice by now. You tell me that my arse is so slack from all the guys I've let fuck it that it's hard for you to get any stimulation. I squeeze your cock with my ring and balls with my hand, making you yelp and thrust even harder. I tell you that I've never had a guy in my arse before you and you laughingly call me a liar and say how you knew the first time you saw me that I love taking it up the butt. 

We are both panting and I am soooo hot. I am on the edge as you describe seeing me at the station that first day in a miniskirt and stocking flashing my panties at all the guys, and how you introduced yourself and within an hour had me over the arm of the sofa at your flat sliding your fat cock into my arse hole as I begged you to bum fuck me. I call you a liar and say how you virtually raped me that time and how I couldn't sit down for days afterwards. You laugh again and claim that I pushed you down on the floor straight afterwards and sucked your shit-covered dick hard and aimed it back at my arse and rode you cow girl style. I am speechless at this outrageous exaggeration and can only reply by clenching my arse round your cock again. You say that it's about time you brought home some of the guys from work to gang me. 

Now I loose all restraint and beg you to really fuck my butt hard. You grab my hair and pull hard, making my head go back. For some reason your cock seems to go even deeper in me and in one, two, three thrusts, I am there, shaking and shuddering and crying out in orgasm. You release my hair and, with a rough shove, push me down flat on the bed. As I writhe and moan you go at me like a jack hammer, pressing me hard into the mattress, each thrust prolonging my orgasm. Finally, with a grimace and a shout, you cum and collapse forward on top of me.

After a few moments you roll off me and lie on the bed breathing heavily. I don't move. I'm savouring the sensations in my body. Eventually I look over at you. You are asleep, your greasy cock lolling lankly against your thigh, the hair at your groin all matted with sweat and our juices. I resist a strong urge to crawl over and clean you off, reaching for my cigarettes instead. As I sit and smoke I try and imagine what it would be like to have you arrive home one day with some of those big sweaty guys from the building site all horny from your stories and ready to fuck me. 

Let me know what you think! Would luv to hear from ya.



Full Circle



The brutal cold that brought shrieks of discomfort to four of the women leaving the church late that Saturday afternoon was typical for Calgary in January. After a few polite, but hurried words to each other, bringing into question the true climate of Hell, four of them made their way through the bottle blue dusk to their frozen Corollas and Windstars. The fifth stood and watched, calmly unaffected by the biting northeast wind. She missed this about the prairies; the naked harshness of the landscape, and the extremities of the weather. She somehow felt comforted by the vulnerability she felt, that she, or anyone, could easily perish under such conditions. This was a land for the sharp witted and the strong. After the four other women had pulled out of the parking lot, she walked east, toward McLeod Trail, the snow beneath her feet making that delightful crunching sound of minus thirty degrees. And she realised how much she hated Toronto.

It had been two years since Olivia had been here. It seemed like forever. But she was patient, and knew she had to be. The woman she now appeared to be, and the life she now lived, were worlds and decades apart from who she was, once upon a time. However, every passing day seemed to bring her some subtle reminder that the veneer she so dutifully kept polished was very thin......

"That picture must be retouched, man. No one has eyes that color. That's just freaky!" Brendan held the picture under a brighter light, not able to quite accept the deep sea green eyes of the woman in the photo.

"Believe it, they are real, just like the rest of her." Matt took the picture from the other man and looked at the woman in it. Just like every time, every emotion within him boiled up, and he had to look away and focus his thoughts. He thought of the twists of fate and happenstance that had brought them together and kept them apart over the years as Brendan passed him a joint.

"No, thanks, man. I'll have some later. We're going to be here for a while, anyway."

Brendan looked at Matt and nodded, knowing that Matt had been planning this evening for months, then turned around and put on the Fu Manchu vinyl he just picked up. 

Olivia walked briskly through the cold, thinking about one of the girls who was at the meeting earlier. She was the real deal. A girl who didn't buy into the thrill of being at a lecture by 'Olivia McClaren, Wife of Reverend Bryce McClaren, Founder of The McClaren Ministries'. As always, most of the girls were in awe of this beautiful woman, who they had seen on The Miracle Network beside her handsome husband. But that one girl, the one with the Betty Page haircut, and the faint aroma of Craven Menthol cigarettes, she saw right into Olivia's soul, and wasn't having any of this abstinence and purity business. She hadn't spoken a word or sang a note during the course of the afternoon. At the end of the meeting she looked into Olivia's eyes and tilted her head slightly as she shook her hand. Neither of them had to say a word; Olivia was busted, and somehow this girl knew exactly what was behind the veneer. As the girl turned and walked away, Olivia felt thrilled that someone had seen her real self.

Matt stared out across the city's downtown, and grinned to himself as he noticed the reflection in the large sheet of glass; Brendan gyrating and twisting like a tall, cartoonish Iggy Pop to the thick, throbbing groove of his latest vinyl treasure. Matt hadn't had a friend like him since he was a little kid. Brendan's mom had moved him and his older brother away from Northern Ireland before they were drawn into the vengeance fuelled maelstrom that had claimed the life of their father. It had been tough for them when they got to Calgary, they didn't have much, but they loved what little they had, and their mother created two fine men on her own. Brendan was the kind of guy that never asked anything of you but your honesty and company, and whom you could trust without question. He had completely transformed Matt's jaded opinion of music, and of life, in one insane, thirty seven minute audition, having been called at one a.m. one night by a mutual friend, telling Matt that he knew someone looking for a "guitar whore". And, at the time, that is exactly what Matthew Cross was, and what his business card proudly stated. He was good. Really good, better than the likes of the big hair clowns of the era, and had spent years on the road, making connections with producers and other musicians while forging a reputation as a consummate professional. And, as a guy who could walk into a studio and nail nearly anything thrown at him on the first take. 'Wham Bam, Where's the Cash, Man', hence the 'whore' moniker jokingly laid on him by those happy to work with him. His encyclopaedic interest in music allowed him to pick up live or studio gigs of practically any genre; he listened to everything. He also knew that he could always just go and make a living as a welder, and he actually missed doing it, and was as good at welding exotic metals as he was at playing guitar; probably better. And he took that uncompromising, blue collar attitude on stage with him. Every night, he kicked ass. He just never kissed ass, and happily, never would. "matthew cross. welder. guitar whore." 

After the insane roller coaster ride that Brendan, lunatic rhythmatist, and his bass player/wife, Sophie, took Matt through; careening wildly from The Dave Brubeck Quartet's "Take Five" to "Ace of Spades" by Motorhead and somehow winding up on Pat Metheny's "Are You Going With Me?", one thing was certain. Matt would never whore himself out again.

As if she were a child, Olivia suddenly clutched her bag tightly as she stepped onto the C-Train platform, a southbound LRT whooshing by into the suburbs blowing her off balance slightly. As she stood alone on the northbound platform, she thought of a photograph her friend Shawna had taken of her years earlier. The last photograph taken of her in her old life, it would turn out. She had convinced Olivia to strip completely naked, and stand on the Rosedale subway platform in Toronto as she photographed her through the window of a subway car. In the photo, a high contrast black and white shot taken with an ancient Spotmatic, Olivia stood, more beautiful and radiant than she could ever imagine herself actually being, somehow un-noticed by everyone else on the platform. Everyone, except a delighted, wide eyed little boy, holding his mother's hand while pointing at Olivia, and somehow, looking directly into the lens of Shawna's camera. That little boy hadn't been afraid to see the real Olivia. That young woman with the Betty Page haircut hadn't been afraid either. Olivia could still feel that girl's strong, sinewey hand in her own, and as the northbound C-Train stopped and it's doors opened, Olivia felt how moist she had become.

"So, how did things go this afternoon, then?"

"Really well. Actually, better than I expected. I can't wait to get over there, I'm at the shop right now. I don't want this stuff cooling down too fast, and these things are worth too fucking much to take any chances with. I should be maybe another hour or so, see you then."

"Cool. Later."

"That was Sophie. She'll be here in an hour or so. She's all freaked about those pieces we poured this morning; doesnt want them cooling down too fast, I guess."

Brendan clicked off his cell as he stood beside Matt at the window of the apartment. Sophie and Brendan were the perfect couple; they were in the same band, they had their own business, they amused each other constantly, and had mutual contempt for bullshit of any kind. Sophie was a full on art school type, and had been attending her fourth year at the Banff School of Fine Arts when the frustration of dealing with the talentless ass kissers and trust fund poseurs finally became pointless, and she moved back to Calgary and went to work with her uncle in a small, but highly respected fabrication shop. The small foundry that had been long neglected in the rear of the old building, not far from the city bus yards, was up and running within a week of Sophie beginning her work there. 

Sophie's uncle was thrilled by her enthusiasm, and she couldn't believe she actually had access to a foundry. She had been excelling at brass and aluminum casting work in her sculpture classes at art school. She loved it; to pour molten metal into a real, solid shape, to have this power over matter to master it's ultimate form, there was something about it she found intoxicating. And lucrative. Within six months, people were spending hundreds, then thosands of dollars on her sometimes violently erotic sculpture, and as much or more on her equally intense sex toys. From there, it went to specialized aluminum and magnesium fifties era hot rod and motorcycle parts; always one off stuff, and very pricey. Two years later, she bought the business from her uncle, who was delighted by his niece's talent and business sense, regardless of what the end product might be. 

As she watched the thermometer on the cooling box drop ever so slowly, she knew that the pieces cooling within would come out perfectly, as always. And that by this time next week, ZZ Top guitar slinger Billy Gibbons would be in possession of the only pair of finned aluminum rocker covers on earth for a Packard V-8, and her bank account would be considerably fatter. As she took care of the day's e-mail and locked up the shop, she felt the relief of being able to indulge her distraction; now that business was taken care of, it was time for pleasure......

Olivia stepped off of the C-Train at the last stop before it headed across the river into Kensington. It was dark by now, and as she made her way south to the O'Neill Park Tower along the west edge of downtown, she felt the exhilaration within her build. The cold air made her feel even more alive, as she grew closer to Matt with every step, closer to a taste of her old...........no, her real self. At the next crosswalk, she turned and looked behind her, almost hoping that Bryce had sent someone to follow her, as he had done early in their marriage, when he had no reason to. They had never seen anything but stirling behavior on Mrs. McClaren's part. But the spies had always been easy to spot, for a strong, sharp witted woman................

Matt could feel her getting closer, and let himself become more excited with an almost guilty zeal. He fell into the relentless groove of the turntable's latest offering, Soundgarden's "Jesus Christ Pose", and found himself madly dancing about the room as if conjuring up some ancient Blackfoot shaman spirit. He let the song's lyrics ignite his always present, but carefully concealed rage over the fact that Olivia was, as he saw it, very tasty jewellry for a man who had no qualms over manipulating people and profiting big time in the name of that poor bastard, Jesus. Brendan bounded passed him, and this time, Matt took the joint that was passed his way and took a huge hit. As the rush flowed through him, the rage he felt slipped away, and all he could feel was pure joy. Olivia.......................

1.7.7.2. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

The small lobby of the O'Neill was warm, and was almost overwhelmingly so compared to the frigid cold outside. As Olivia removed her gloves and scarf, a couple exited the elevator, smiling with a vague sense of recognition as they passed the striking blond. Some one they'd seen on a commercial or something......, the thought vapourizing as the two stepped into the biting cold. Olivia stepped into the open elevator, exhaling deeply as the door closed. Not pushing the button of any floor, she thought about what she was about to do. Bryce was not a bad man, and she was his wife. And his pretty sidekick on the McClaren Ministries TV and web broadcasts that provided a very, very comfortable living for the two of them. The reality of the matter was, however, that she was in an elevator, nine stories below a man that has been constantly in her thoughts and fantasies for the past eighteen years of her life. A man that had witnessed some of the most perverse and wonderful things she had ever done, and never judged her for it. Who had been her friend and support whenever he was able to, and had expected nothing of her for it, but her friendship. And the best lover she'd ever know. She pushed "9".

"Pick something, man, I've been doing that for the last hour! Besides, your girl is going to be here pretty quick, I'm sure you want to set the moooooooooooood, dude!"

Matt looked at Brendan, realizing how cool it was that this was happening with such good people. Being in the band with Brendan and Sophie was amazing, they were manic psycho geniuses that could brew up the steamiest, most amazing grooves at will, and playing with them was always an epiphanal, or near-death experience at every show. They'd actually been the ones to invite Matt into their love life, after one particularly intense gig where their 'Portisehead-meets-Reverend Horton Heat' sound whipped the crowd into an orgasmic frenzy. He placed Pink Floyd's "Piper at the Gates of Dawn" on the turntable, feeling the deep, organic pulse of "Astronomy Domine" build within the room.

Olivia looked at the slightly shocked expression on the face of the pretty, well dressed woman in her late fifties as the door opened on the seventh floor.

"Going up?" she asked, her warm wide smile immediately putting the woman at ease.

"Twelfth floor, please....", the woman stated, entering the elevator, as the gorgeous blonde dressed in only a very expensive lace bra and panties pressed the "12" button. She looked at Olivia's face with a vague, but almost certain recognition. The two shared a few obligatory words about the frigid weather, and the small, but glimmering hope for a chinook. As the elevator stopped on the ninth floor, and Olivia reached down to pick up her bag, the woman in the elevator said to her:

"That is really one hell of a look, honey. You look EXACTLY like that woman on that religious channel! I really hope you are charging someone dearly for your services, God knows what you are doing is more honest than what those scam artists are getting away with!"

Olivia looked back over her shoulder, and gave the woman the huge, sparkling smile that the Miracle Network cameras were so in love with, which completely cracked up the pretty old gal.

Having been mistaken for a high priced whore, masquerading as her television persona, had fuelled her already simmering arousal, and Olivia sauntered, cat-like, down the hall towards room nine one six. Even if all that were to happen was that Matt would invite her in for coffee, it would be enough; her own existance would make a difference for a little while. But it would be more than coffee, it was always far more than she could ever expect. He knew her too well............

Only a few steps away from the door, she could hear the deep, throbbing rhythm from inside the apartment. She stopped outside the door and waited before knocking. She was ridiculously wet, and the last few steps had brought her perilously close to orgasm. She wondered what awaited her behind that door, what unforgettable experience would be added to the distractions that she fought hard to conceal. She thought about what had happened the last time they'd met; how Matt had procured the services of a San Francisco dominatrix to administer hour after relentless hour of unblinking dicipline and expertly crafted sapphic agony and ecstasy upon her. Or, how in New Orleans, she had been led, naked, in front of a crowd of people, who bid to obtain her services as a cock slave for a twenty four hour period.........she rubbed her knees together and came instantly. She looked up to see Matt admiring her, her knees shaking...............

Matt pulled her into the room without saying a word and kissed her deeply, pulling her body tightly against his. She ground herself into him, feeling his strength engulfing her, feeling his cock swelling for her. She reached down into his pants, the gravity of his prick drawing her nails into it's engorged surface. He moaned aloud and took her right breast into his hand and squeezed it hard as his right arm pulled her even tighter against his body. She wrapped her thighs around his leg and clamped down, squirting herself all down his pants leg as she came. 

"I guess that these will have to come off now.", Matt stated calmly as he released Olivia from his grip, looking down at the huge wet spot on his leg. She stared, fixated as his pants hit the floor, at his throbbing prick. It always seemed bigger than she remembered it. It was thick, as thick as her wrist, with a foreskin that was long enough to encase his bulbous glans, even with a full on erection. It was the most perfect cock she'd ever sucked, and God knows she had performed fellatio on more than just a few occasions. Unfortunately, Bryce was not at all interested in her cocksucking prowess, as it fell into the category of sodomy, as he saw it.

Matt reached out and slipped two fingers into her, bringing her to the edge of yet another orgasm, as Brendan reached around from behind her and grabbed both of her breasts, surprising her, as she hadn't even noticed him. It hadn't been the first time that others had been invited to the party, and Olivia fell back into Brendan as Matt pressed against her. Each man took one of her breasts in his hand as Matt kissed her hard and Brendan bit the back of her neck just hard enough to make the hair on the back of her head stand up. The sensation of being held and kissed and crushed between these two men made her head spin. Her breasts were incredibly aroused. The Girls liked it rough; rope bondage, nipple clamps, riding crops, but to have them ravaged by these strong men, pulled and pinched and used in a manner unbecoming a minister's wife........if she had not been pinned by the hands and pricks and muscles of these men, she would have fallen to the ground like a rag doll. Indeed, when Matt released his grip on her, she slipped down to her knees like a piece of silk.

Sophie heard the beat of the music as she unlocked the door of the apartment. She got there as quickly as she could, knowing that Brendan and Matt would begin the evening's activities the moment Matt's pretty blond friend showed up. She was happy for Matt; he loved his solitude, and had a few nice girls he would see once in a while. But she knew he had a serious thing for this woman, Olivia. She was The One, as Brendan was for her and vice versa. She knew that no matter what path she or Brendan would have taken in life, that they would have wound up together. She hoped that this Olivia felt the same way about Matt, as she spied through the divider between the dining room and the living room, where she saw the beautiful blond on her knees between Brendan and Matt. She held a rock hard cock in each hand, sliding her mouth alternately over the head of each one, taking a little more of each with every mouthful. She savored the contrast between Matt's muscular, uncut tool, and Brendan's long, smooth weapon. She was an expert fellatrix, this Olivia, leaving no spot on either man's genitals unkissed, untasted. Sophie was slick and throbbing, dropping her pants to the floor and reaching into her ripe, warm juiciness. She watched the woman in the other room swallowing the entire length of her husband's cock, licking his testicles as she squeezed Matt's prick with a death grip, turning it into a dark, vein swollen monster. As Olivia somehow managed to draw the engorged heads of both men's pricks into her mouth, Sophie came hard, driving her fingers into herself deeply, quivering as she pressed down hard onto her G-spot and riding wave after wave of sweet release.

As the record on the turntable played out the last few seconds of analog ecstasy, Sophie smiled at the boys' penchant for that archaic medium. It was time to join the party, and she que'd up an iPod program simply named "fuck". 




Full Circle



The Pararachute Club's "Innuendo" began to pump out of the sound system, letting Brendan and Matt know that Sophie was in the house. The two men pulled their cocks from Olivia's mouth and up from her knees. They sat her into a chair, holding her arms behind her.

"God, what now?", Olivia thought to herself, the taste of cock thick on her breath, her cunt on fire. Deep within her, she knew a line had been crossed; after today, things would have to be different. She'd actually hoped that Bryce had someone watching her, this life on television was a lie, and no matter what she did to somehow cope with it all, it was eroding her. What had happened in New Orleans was probably the most honest thing she had done since she met Bryce. The "McClaren Ministries" effort to raise money for survivors of Hurricane Katrina had been a carefully edited collection of stock and staged footage, making Bryce look like some sort of Anderson Cooper for Jesus. And it had worked, raising hundreds of thousands of dollars, though barely ten grand of that was actually spent on anything other than Bryce,Inc. But when Matt had presented her with the opportunity to be auctioned off like a slave to a room full of ridiculously wealthy people who had met in secret with the intention of actually raising serious cash for the stricken city, she jumped on it. Among the diamonds and Bentleys and ancient bottles of wine offered up by people honest enough to realize their good fortune, there was no paparazzi to witness the bidding war to sexually enslave the gorgeous wife of a TV evangelist, led naked in front of them all. To the winning bidder, a British rock musician who had bedded thousands of women throughout his long career, it was the best one hundred and forty thousand dollars he'd ever spent..........

And again, she thought of the young woman at the church. What the fuck was it about her? She saw right into her heart, knew that she had turned the Minister's wife on, knew that she could have her, if she wanted. Only, it was Olivia that wanted her. As she tilted her head back, feeling the strong hands of men on her naked flesh, Olivia could swear that she could smell her cigarettes, feel her staring at her. She let her head fall forward, and opened her eyes. In front of her, naked, her olive skin translucent in the city's light, stood the young woman with the Betty Page haircut..........

Olivia's skin rippled with goose flesh as Sophie's taut little body flickered toward her like a flame. Olivia could feel her as she drew closer; her skin ached for the caress of this beautiful creature, the feel of her hard, dark nipples brushing against hers. She wanted to leap from the chair and ravish this woman, to fuck her and be fucked by her. She was going nowhere, however, as Matt and Brendan held her firmly in the chair, her hands held well away from Sophie's buttery smooth flesh. Her cunt ached, driven wild by the smell of cock mingling with the musky scent of Sophie's body. Sophie was now just inches away from her and swaying seductively to the fuck rhythm filling the room. She bent over Olivia's face, taking it in her hands as she brushed her lips against the quivering blond's, flicking her tongue to find out what the Minister's wife tastes like. Olivia returned the gesture, the kiss between the two women deepening as Sophie straddled Olivia's legs and wrapped her arms around her. Olivia's nipples had become so sensitive she thought they would burst into flame as she felt Sophie's tits pressing against hers. She was unaware that the men had released their grip on her as she fell deeper and deeper into Sophie's kiss. Somehow, she had known the moment she had seen this woman, who had appeared as an undisguised wolf among the sheep, that this would happen.........

Matt lay back on a couch and watched as Brendan reached around from behind Olivia and took one of her breasts in each hand, squeezing them as he pulled them away from her chest. Her nipples were maddeningly aroused, her body shuddering with each tiny lick and kiss Sophie laid upon them. Olivia looked over at Matt, her face radiant with joy, and, relief, it seemed..... 

Matt would sometimes watch their program, just to see her, even if the whole thing pissed him off. He knew that the woman he saw on the screen was really doing good for the world, if it were only to give some lonely soul a bit of hope or a pretty face on the television to jack off to. But he also knew that the face he saw on TV was a mask, a clever replica of the woman whose face was now screaming out her ecstasy as Sophie's tongue traced secret pathways from the hood of her clitoris down to her anus. He wondered how many people had watched her on TV, fantasizing about her doing some dirty thing with that pretty mouth, as he watched Brendan release his grip on her breasts. He stood beside her, putting his long, glistening prick to her lips. She slowly took it's length into her throat, staring into Matt's eyes as she did. She knew that he had a thing for watching women suck cock. She knew that back when she was a wild child, sneaking into the hot clubs to see the bands, that Matt had watched her suck off dozens of guys at parties. It was the inexplicable type of relationship that was not uncommon between musicians who lived on the road, and the people who were fascinated by them. She loved hearing and watching him play. He loved to watch her give head. Both would enjoy the roles of both exhibitionist and voyeur. Pure, honest entertainment for both of them. As well, he'd watch out for her and try to keep the cocaine crowd away. She'd cook him the best fucking lasagna, and read her poetry to him. And at the time, neither of them realised how much the other meant to them.....

The Kegal exercises that Olivia did every time the cameras were rolling were now showing their effectiveness as she had nearly turned her lovely cunt inside out trying to push her G-spot into Sophie's mouth. Sophie kissed her pussy sweetly, revelling in the similarity of her labia to her Cover Girl mouth. Her tongue drew ever tightening circles around Olivia's vulva, stopping for excruciating instants on her clit as she slipped one finger after another into her. Olivia shuddered as she thought of the moment, earlier in the day when she shook the tough, sinewey hand that now had it's fingers in her cunt. Sophie slid her fingers deeper into the Minister's wife, looking up at the face of the woman deep throating Brendan. That was the face she saw at the church, telling those young girls that the dark urges that they felt could be overcome, with faith. In themselves, however, not a religious icon. Sophie noticed that, and it had impressed her, after all, Jesus already had a lot on his plate, without having to worry about every teenage girl who stroked herself off. She was as fascinated by Jesus, the man, as she was revolted by the bullshit committed in his name. As a matter of fact, when Brendan and her had been musing one evening over who they'd fuck, given the chance, Sophie picked Jesus. Brendan picked Ayn Rand.

Bryce McClaren stared into the computer screen in front of him. It really didn't matter what he was reading, it only reinforced what he already knew. Olivia was not at her hotel. She hadn't gone to the supper that the organizers of the youth meeting had planned for her. Her cell phone was off. 

It had been the classic case of being at the right place at the right time when he'd met Olivia. He had a small, hokey twenty minute show on a public access channel, pitching the message of the Lord and playing Stryper videos to the five or six kids that might be watching from the greater Toronto area at any given time. He knew that there was a way to get the Message out there. Unfortunately, being a bit of an outcast, even within his church youth group, he really didn't have anyone close enough to him to tell him how cheesy his approach was to all of it, and how it really made him seem ingenuine. But, he really did Believe.

One Sunday morning he went to a local hospital with a camera man to bring a bit of rockin' Christian spirit to some of the kids in the adolescent ward, and never made it past the emergency room. There had been a horrific accident; a truck had run a red light and literally sliced a car in half on impact. What little was left of the driver, a young woman, somehow managed to survive, but sadly, could not be helped, beyond massive dosages of morphine. Bryce stood, stupefied as the paramedics rushed the stretcher past him. Moments later, he saw Olivia for the first time, as she rushed by him into the examining room. Ten minutes later, she stumbled back out with no expression on her face and sat down with an eerie calm. Bryce had no idea what to say or do, he just sat down beside her and took her hand.

"My friend Shawna is dead." "Why?" Olivia looked at the slightly unkempt guy with the 'Satan Sucks' t-shirt on. 

He had an answer. And she needed one........

Brendan fought hard to keep from ejaculating into Olivia's mouth; this was total sensory overload. She sucked him as if she were starving, torturing the head of his long prick each time she took it deep into the slickness of her throat. The sight of her face wrapped around his cock, as Sophie pulled Olivia's distended clitoris away from her quivering mound with her teeth, was just too fucking much. Matt saw that Brendan was about to blow his wad into her, so he got up and replaced Brendan's prick with his own. It had swelled to agonizing proportions, and Olivia could not fit much more than it's head into her mouth. She began to shake uncontrollably, Sophie held her on the very brink of orgasm, never letting her tongue rest on any spot of Olivia's overheated cunt long enough to allow resolution of the mad pressure building inside of her. Brendan had regained his focus, and was ready for more, as was everyone else.

"Let's fuck Olivia. We'll all fuck her. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Brendan took a sip from the glass he held as Olivia looked up at him and grunted her approval.

"Good idea. We should fuck her. We should fuck her the way she was thinking of being fucked this afternoon at that church youth group meeting. I saw the look on your face, pretty girl, while everyone was singing that song right before we took a lunch break. That woman beside you was singing WAY off key, and you were thinking about getting your brains fucked out." Sophie stood and looked at Olivia with a nasty little smirk on her face. She was right, and everyone in the room knew it.

Olivia let Matt's cock slip from her mouth, and looked up at the three of them. She wanted to be more than just fucked, she wanted to be ravaged, to be endlessly violated. She wanted the taste of Sophie's cunt added to the intoxicating flavor of Matt and Brendan that flooded her mouth. She wanted all of them, now.

Sophie stepped toward her as Matt and Brendan pulled her from the chair and forced her to her knees. She grabbed the hair on the back of Olivia's neck and pulled her face into her musky black bush. Olivia's tongue drove hard toward Sophie's ripe little pussy, madly searching for the source of her glorious aroma. Sophie groaned as the blond on her knees drove her tongue into her, sucking out a mouthful of dark, sweet nectar as she did. She drove her chin between Sophie's legs, pushing the tip of her tongue deep into her ass, weakening her knees. Olivia tried in vain to reach her own steaming cunt, but Matt and Brendan held her arms firmly. Sophie began to shake as Olivia's tongue probed back and forth into her ass then her pussy. Finally, she screamed wildly as her legs clamped Olivia's head like a vice. Catching her breath, she took a step back and looked at the thick layer of her cream on Olivia's face, then at the two men standing on either side of her.

"OK, lady, it's time to get fucked."

The two men lifted her body, and held her upright until she was able to stand on her own. She fell into Matt's chest, who put his arms around her as Brendan situated himself on the edge of a day bed. Matt picked her up as if she was weightless, and carried her over and lowered her down onto Brendan's cock. It slipped into her dripping pussy with no resistance, it's length and steel-like hardness driving to the limit of her depth. She felt absolutely impaled as Matt released her weight onto Brendan, who had his hands under her buttocks, keeping the full length of his prick from tearing her vagina apart. Matt kissed her as he released her, the taste of Sophie still thick on her face. Olivia shook as she began to rock back and forth on Brendan's prick, Matt stroking Sophie's shoulders as they watched Olivia's breasts begin to heave. Sophie dropped to her knees, attacking the feast of genitalia before her. She took each of Brendan's balls into her mouth, sucking her way up to the point where his prick ended and Olivia's frothing pussy began. As she drove both of them mad with her mastery of this art which lie between cunnilingus and fellatio, Matt took her by the hips and slowly pushed his throbbing mass into her. Sophie used every bit of her concentration to keep herself focused on the beautiful, obscene act she was performing on her husband and the woman his cock was buried deep within. The smell and taste and sound of it all, combined with the fact that her cunt was being slowly hammered into orgasmic overload, was simply too much to take. As she began to come, she clamped down hard on Olivia's clitoris, causing her to shoot long slippery jets of girl juice into her mouth. Sophie came, again and again, the sound of the two women's ecstasy driving the men wild........

"I saw Mrs. McClaren leave the youth group meeting at 4:45p.m.. She walked to the C-train station, and rode downtown. She went into an apartment building at about 5:30. Can't tell you much more right now, I'm afraid. I'm very sorry, Reverend. I'll let you know the minute I have anything else." Bryce stared at the message on the screen, the savage crush of betrayal that flooded through him more excruciating than he ever imagined it would be.

He knew that someday this would happen, or maybe he somehow hoped it would. He never knew about any of her past activities, and she had never given him any reason to mistrust her. She had turned his life around, made him a believer, in himself. He went from goofy, unkempt geek to confident, engaging man in only a few months after meeting Olivia. At first, their friendship was strictly platonic, but the fact that he had a beautiful woman at his side certainly changed the way others saw him. She understood his desire to take his interpretation of the Scriptures to the masses; in that sense he was much like any other performer. She helped him pick out sharp, but understated clothing. She helped him with his on camera presence and delivery. She taught him the value of a good haircut. Less than a year later, his shabby little public access show went from time slot filler to CTV Toronto Sunday morning airtime. And when he asked Olivia to join him on air, just after they were married, his show was picked up immediately by The Miracle Network and a couple of smaller American Christian channels. Perhaps, that had been the problem; after that, he always wondered if the show would have been picked up by those channels if Olivia would have stayed off the set. It was shortly after that when he had started to arrange for people to "keep an eye on her" when she went anywhere without him. This had been the first time that anyone had ever reported back to him with anything at all to report. In his creeping paranoia, he wondered if this was because he finally found a spy he could trust. And he wondered what she was doing at that moment.......

Sophie had straddled her husbands face, allowing him to bury his tongue deep inside of her as she put her arms around Olivia. She took the blond's swollen breasts in her hands, teasing and pulling at them while whispering the filthiest obscenities into her ear, all the while watching as Matt drew closer, his prick so wildly engorged as to appear inhuman. Brendan's cock was still buried deep within Olivia as Matt inserted a finger into her, drawing it slowly into her G-spot, the pressure within her driving her mad with ecstasy. He inserted another finger, pushing harder as Brendan began to push himself even deeper into her. She had no idea how much more of this she could stand; it was too much, her head spun as endorphins rushed through her body. She looked down at Matt's cock, dark and terrifying, no, he couldn't, she was already too full.......

She felt him press the head of his cock below her burning clit, massaging it to the point of torment. Brendan began to increase the length of his strokes, pulling his cock nearly all the way out of her, then pushing even deeper into her with every thrust. She began to squirt uncontrollably, her nipples rock hard in Sophie's hands. Then, the pressure within her muted her screams of pleasure as she felt both men's cocks enter her vagina. She had never felt anything like it; she was more than full, the sensation of her cunt being the hostess to two huge cocks at once took her breath away. Sophie held her in her arms as she would while comforting a child, juxtaposing her physical tenderness with the obscenities being whispered into the ear of the impaled blond. She began to catch her breath as the two men began to pump her harder, each stroke discovering some previously unfucked portion within her. Sophie's filthy little whispers became fuck moans as she licked Olivia's ears, Brendan's tongue bringing her to the brink of orgasm yet again. Matt and Brendan had established a frantic rhythm, furiously pounding Olivia's cunt as the four of them hurtled toward unimaginable orgasmic oblivion.........

Sophie had been right, Olivia had been distracted by the notion of being fucked like this while trying to ignore the tone deaf woman at the afternoon meeting. As their lunch break began, she had actually gone directly to a washroom on the far side of the church to steal a few moments of privacy, having allowed herself to be consumed by the thoughts she had been warning those girls to beware of. As she imagined being ravished, fucked hard, hands and mouths squeezing and sucking her tits while every manner of cock and cunt demanded access to her mouth, she took the electric toothbrush she always carried with her and held the back of it's intensely vibrating head to her clit, somehow remaining deathly silent as wave after wave of overlapping clitoral orgasms pulsed through her. It was only now that she recalled the faint scent of menthol cigarretes in the washroom as she washed her hands afterwards......

And now, here she was, carried to the point of delirium as her cunt was being pummelled relentlessly by the pair of glorious cocks inside of her, pounding out their intense syncopated rhythm to the savage carnal wail emanating from the lot of them. Sophie had collapsed into Olivia's back, their arms intertwined across her breasts as Brendan's tongue brought his wife to the point of no return. She was the first to crack; her shuddering body radiating a flood of exquisite pleasure, pulling them all into the depths of unimaginable sensory joy. Brendan orgasmed violently, having been brought to the edge too many times to count, and drove a seemingly unending torrent of semen into Olivia, who looked deeply into the eyes of the man pushing his prick deeper into her than she could have thought possible. As they both hung on the precipice of this precious torment for an eternal instant, they both thought of what their lives were about to become........

Olivia awoke in Matt's arms to the sound of Sophie and Brendan laughing their heads off in another room while watching "The Hilarious House of Frightenstein". She pulled his arms around her like a blanket; if she could live forever within any moment of her life, this would be it. Matt began to stir and pulled her body into his as he kissed the back of her neck. A few minutes later, Sophie peeked around the corner.




Full Circle



"Hey, pretty girl, can I offer you and your buddy there some coffee? C'mon, Matt, Hilarious House of Frightenstein is on, it's the one where Professor Julius Sumner-Miller demonstrates the Bernoulli Effect."

Matt peeled open one eye as Brendan brought in some sort of crazy hash pipe and offered the waking couple a hit, as a celebration of the chinook that had crept in overnight, raising the temperature to above the freezing mark in only a few hours.

"No, thanks, guys, I think that we're just going to head over to my place for a bit before Olivia has to take off." 

Sophie and Brendan knew that whatever time that Matt had to spend with Olivia was probably short, so they kissed her sweetly goodbye and told her that they hoped to see her again soon. By the time Matt and Olivia were leaving, their hosts were again fucking themselves senseless, laughing like little kids as they did.........

Olivia held Matt's arm as they walked out onto the street, the air calm and above zero, the fury of the wind that would howl in from the Rockies stii a couple of hours away. She drew closer to him, thinking of nothing but the moment at hand.

"Hey, there's a Nellie's over in Kensington if you want to grab some breakfast," Matt offered, as if this was just another beautiful morning.

"I thought Nellie's was down on Seventeenth."

"It is, they opened another one over here a few years ago."

They walked arm in arm down the street and across the river as if they had always been together, and ate breakfast across from each other and bantered back and forth as if they always would. They then walked over to Matt's little house and made slow, languid love to each other until it was time for Olivia to catch her cab.

"Mrs. McClaren left the apartment building this morning at just after eight this morning, Reverend. She was with a man............."

Olivia walked into Bryce's study that night, to tell him that she was leaving. Bryce's face appeared as she had never seen it. Before she could say a word, he stood and held out an envelope.

"I know that you were with another man last night." His face was unshaven, he somehow looked like he would have if he had never met her; unkempt, nebbish, and, much older.

"One of you spies, Bryce? Is that how you know?"

"Yes!", he spat out, being caught off guard by her reply. He handed her the envelope. She knew far too much about the inconsistencies of The McClaren Ministries, the creative book keeping, the offshore bank accounts, the faked New Orleans footage, she was a liability to the way of life he had grown accustomed to. 

"Get the hell out of here. Go back west and take that with you, harlot. Consider it as payment for your services. It should be enough to keep your mouth shut, and you out of my life. My lawyer will be notified tomorrow morning. The press release will state that you are on sabbatical in Equador."

Olivia took the envelope without saying a word, turned and walked out of the room, and their home, for the final time. The whole time, Bryce reminded her in a pathetic, third rate Elmer Gantry rant of the hellfire awaiting her......

Olivia had no idea that the fiery fate Bryce had foretold would come so quickly. The heat and searing fumes beat against her flesh, drawing the breath from her lungs as red hot fragments of burning metal and ash rained onto the steaming ground before her. A dark, leather gloved hand took her by the arm, gripping her hard and pulling her back.

"Hey, pretty girl, don't get too close to that thing! That shit'll burn a hole right through you if you arent careful!" Olivia turned and smiled at Sophie. It would be kind of tough to explain to Matt that she had burned herself after promising to be careful. But there was something about seeing metal actually being poured, seeing someone mastering it's ultimate form that she found.............intoxicating.



Full Circle



I watched Marissa Lawrence wipe the corners of her mouth with a linen napkin. Her lipstick was worn away. All that remained was a stain of berry color. The lovely pout of her lips reminded me of the way they looked after I'd spent hours kissing them.

"What?" Marissa questioned. Her dazzling smile crept across her face.

"Nothing." 

"You were staring."

"Oh was I?"

"Uh-huh."

"I'm sorry. It's been a while. I forgot what you looked like." 

That was a lie. Three years ago Marissa had not only been my coworker, she was also my lover. That meant every detail of her, the physical and the intimate, was filed away in my mind. There were memories of Marissa, wanton after being away from me for three days. I could see in my mind, Marissa, whimpering and weak from hours of sex. And then there was, tucked far away in the back, Marissa, exiting my life.

"I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing Paul." She chuckled then said, "Hey, let's get out of here."

My pulse shot up instinctively.

"You've got time don't you?"

My PDA had been buzzing incessantly throughout lunch. "For you? Sure."

"Great. I'm going to hit the ladies room. Don't go anywhere." She winked.

"I won't." 

I watched her saunter toward the restrooms. She was the only female executive I knew who could pull off a red leather knee-length skirt, blazer and heels and still look professional. I took note of her bare legs peeking out from the hem as they crisscrossed out of sight.

I cursed myself for being back in this position. The gods were laughing at me, toying with my emotions by bringing me full circle with the woman who had crushed me three years prior. She was back at unknowingly tempting me with her tongue. It captivated me throughout lunch with the way it flicked out to catch flavors from her lips. She insisted on reminding me of what her cleavage was like with every touch of her hand to her throat. She even had the brazenness to wear that damn perfume.

"You are a dummy, Paul," I muttered.

"Now don't be so hard on yourself." 

I looked up to see Marissa smiling down at me. She slipped a few bills on top of the check. Her lipstick was back in place. I fought the urge to take her face in my hands and smudge the two perfectly applied lines of berry color with my thumb.

"I happen to think you are a very intelligent man."

"Why thank you, madam."

She laughed. A wiser man would have heard it as an evil cackle and ran away, but her laughter was a siren song and I followed where she led. We pushed through the restaurant's glass doors and stood on the sidewalk. Marissa pulled out a pair of dark sunglasses from her pocketbook and slid them on. 

"Where did you park?"

"In the parking garage around the corner."

"All right."

She stepped in that direction. I stood in her path and looked down into her face. I searched for her eyes. They were hidden behind oversized, fashion forward frames. I questioned her silently. She smiled and placed a dainty hand under my lapel.

"You're right. I'm forgetting." 

She turned pouty lips up to me.

"Oh no you don't." I took a cautious step back.

"Huh? A kiss."

"You and I both know it's never just lunch with us. And it certainly is never just a kiss. Be straight with me for once, Marissa."

She gave one of her infamous sighs of exasperation and pretended to be interested in what the valets were doing. I watched her eyes move under the tint of the sunglasses. Her long lashes collided with the lenses. I was half tempted to yank them off her face and force her to lie to me while looking me in the eye.

"I'm back for good, Paul. Okay. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

I heard it. I couldn't stop my heart from leaping, but my head opened that folder from far away in the back of my mind and turned the pages of Marissa, exiting my life as if to say, "Remember this? Warning Paul!" I returned the file to the place far in the back of my mind and said, "Yeah. That's what I wanted to hear."

She grinned. And just like that we were walking to the parking garage.

The sound of our footsteps meeting the concrete echoed all around us. The garage was empty despite the time of day. Marissa had her hand in my suit pocket the way she always did when we walked side by side. She found the key fob and made the alarm chirp to unlock the doors. I walked her to the passenger side.

"First things first. You owe me a kiss."

"I do. You are right." I had managed to not think about the kiss. It was easy because my mind kept flashing still images of her walking out, bags packed and her face placid and cold. Hurt had a keen way of curbing the libido. But kisses could make all the pain go away. Marissa's kisses did that. They were a spoon full of sugar and more. I anticipated the kiss to feel like we were doing it for the first time, as strangers. I thought that I would have to relearn how to coax her tongue into my mouth, choreograph all of the steps of our dance again. On contact, my worries dissolved into the sweet surrender of our mouths.

Here I was, in a moment I wanted to freeze. I wanted to be outside of my own body, watching her mouth tug sweetly on my lower lip. I wanted to see if my face and body expressed the unbelievable pleasure that I felt. I wanted this moment to slow down. At 1:30 in the afternoon, standing in a downtown parking garage, Marissa and I were our most perfect. We were lovers again.

I'd picked her up into my arms so that she was straddling my middle. I didn't know I had done it until I heard Marissa squeal against my mouth. Her skirt inched higher on her thighs when she opened them to make room for my pelvis. I pressed her into the car for balance.

"Paul," she managed between kisses across my face. "If you don't get your cock out right now and fuck me I'll never forgive you."

I pushed into Marissa to show her how excited I was. She responded by rolling her hips against the hardness in my trousers. She released her head back, exposing her long beautiful neck. I kissed her there. I felt her pulse against my lips. I was drowning in that perfume.

"Hurry, Paul."

I let Marissa down long enough to open the rear door. She slid inside and backed herself up against the opposite door. Marissa positioned her legs so that one rested on the seat and the other in the floorboard. I saw right were I wanted to be. The hem of her skirt gaped open, exposing her swollen and shaven lips. No panties. Classic. I shrugged off my suit jacket, then dove head first across the leather seats.

Marissa was giggling when she caught me behind my head and guided me home. She was wet when I first tasted her and each fold was fragrant and delicious. I didn't tease her. I knew what she wanted. I moved my tongue directly to her clit. She gasped and helped me gain more access to her by moving her skirt farther up her legs. 

"Mmm. Love these legs, doll." 

I turned my head to briefly nibble and kiss the toned and smooth surface of her thighs, then returned to work. I open her inner folds with the tip of my tongue. I could tell that it had been a while since she'd had a release. Her juices flowed, coating my tongue and upper lip. I lapped the juices up greedily. She spurred me on with the gentle rising and squirming of her hips.

I pressed my cock into the leather cushions to ease some of the ache. I wanted to be in her, coating my shaft with the wetness I helped create. It was difficult to prolong my entry but I enjoyed pleasing her this way. The power she relinquished was intoxicating. When I raised my head to watch her swell and glisten she pleaded for more. I licked her faster, rolling the tight bud of her clit under my tongue. She was panting and tearing at her blouse. Marissa allowed me the indulgence of kissing the high peaks of her small breast. I left behind smudges of saliva and her moisture which Marissa used it to massage into her nipples. Each stroke tightened the dusky colored areolas.

I watched Marissa tug on each nipple, pulling with them the fullness of her breasts. I responded to the sight as if she were pulling on my cock.

"Let me have you."

"No," she pleaded. Her fingers took up where my tongue left off. "Finish. Please." Her voice was a whisper. Her eyes were hooded and dark. From that look I knew that if I didn't finish she would.

I allowed her to work her clit while I wiggled my tongue at her entrance. She became wetter. She was panting quicker. Her eyes shut. Marissa let out a throaty moan. Her legs shook before closing around my ears. I sucked her clit.

"Fuck!"

I left my mouth around her clit, softening its embrace as her orgasm subsided. Marissa stroked her fingers through my hair. She cooed unintelligibly with her eyes closed. To wake her, I moistened a thumb with my tongue and rubbed quickly, but softly, back and forth at the root of her sensitivity. She jumped.

"No, no, no. Gimme a second."

I could have made her come again that way. She always protested at first when I drove sensation back on her clit, but her pussy wanted more. I could smell it. If I let her lie there any longer, melting into my leather seats, I would smell her for days every time I got in the car.

"Alright. Let me have you now." I cut the pleading tone from my voice and dragged her up towards me by her forearms. She climbed on my lap. Our mouths met. 

"Pussy," she said. "I taste good." Her tongue swirled inside my mouth. She made it a point to lick the glaze of her sex from my face, from chin to lip, then corner to corner. My cock flexed hard in response.

We both worked to get my slacks off, twisting and bending in the close confines of the backseat. Once we had the pants down around my feet, I watched Marissa drink me in with her eyes. If her appreciative look was a touch I would have exploded then and there. I distracted myself by helping her out of her blouse. Once undressed, I thought she would climb off me and take me in her mouth, gobble me up with those berry stained lips. I wanted her to do anything. If it was her mouth, pussy or ass, I didn't care. I wanted all of her around me, as far and as deep as was possible.

Marissa's small delicate fingers grasped my cock. They were cool against my heat. I shuddered.

"Mmm. Paul. Are you bigger?" Her voice was rich with youthful wonder. All I could do was smile. Her hand felt incredible.

"So fucking hard," she said.

We both watched her expert fingers grope the shaft. When she seemed satisfied with the ridged state of my cock she moved her crotch closer to me. She positioned me between her legs. Each stroke brought me closer to her mound.

"Come on." I thrust my hips up.

Marissa smiled down at me. She lowered her face for a kiss. When her dark hair fell around us it eclipsed the light. Our tongues touched. My hips lifted. I missed her entrance and groaned. The low ceiling of the car did nothing to prevent Marissa from moving with ease into a squatted position. She leaned back and placed each arm on the front car seats. I watched her. Marissa's whole face was beautiful and stripped of pretence. She was raw and sexy and ready to be fucked. Her dark eyes gleamed with all her horny desires. Marissa perched her slim hips over me and made a motion to lower herself down. I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn't take the visual of her engulfing me with a pussy that was slick with want.

Marissa made a noise like pleasure and pain met in her throat. I pulled her hips down until the head of my cock met the fleshy stop deep within her. All I could hear was my heartbeat pounding in my ears. All I could feel was Marissa's liquid sheath around me. I was lost in the sensations and rhythm of our bodies. What brought me out of that state was the sound of footsteps.

My eyes shot open to look at the rear passenger door which remained open. Whoever came around the corner would get a great show. I reached to close it. Marissa stopped me.

"Who cares if they see." 

The person approached closer. Marissa rode me harder. She gyrated, making her pussy grip me tighter. Each movement sent me further inside the moist canal between her thighs. Marissa's eyes followed the owner of the footsteps until they passed us. 

Bawdy little cunt! I thought to myself. I gripped her, excited by her dare.

"You want them to see you get fucked?"

She didn't answer. She stared out the rear window.

I bucked into her. "Huh?"

Marissa gritted her teeth.

"Huh?" I began to pound her. My hips lifted off the seat, colliding against her with wet splashes.

"Tell me."

"Yes," she answered through clinched teeth. Her eyes were shut. Her head was back. She looked magnificent. Her skin glowed. Her nipples were erect. I took one with my mouth and sucked until Marissa moaned and shivered. She was close and my cock was soaked with her. Her eyes remained closed. I plowed into her until her moans grew into shouts. Each exclamation was accentuated by a thrust from me.

"Don't stop."

I couldn't. I was thick and harder than I had been in weeks. I loved seeing her split open, her visible clit swollen above dark lips that clutched me like a velvet glove. I replenished the sheen of her wetness on my cock with each stroke and was prepared to continue the piston pace for a long while. I relished in the heightened awareness and sensitivity in my body, but signs of Marissa's orgasm twitched around the head of my cock. I held back for the first few spasms, but she felt exquisite. Warmth grew from the bottom of my feet and erupted through me like white hot heat. I was conscious of Marissa writhing on top of me for a moment before the world fell silent again. I sank under the crushing wave of my own orgasm. Her release milked more and more cum out of me. 

When I opened my eyes Marissa was draped across my chest. I caught my breath slowly and smiled to myself at the way our sex hadn't changed. It might have even gotten better.

"Mmm," Marissa finally mused. She flipped her hair to one side and looked at me. "You are somethin'."

"Thank you for lunch."

"My pleasure."

We quickly dressed to avoid another presentation of our reunion sex. Marissa had her clothing in place and as smooth as it could get, considering it had been pressed into a horrible gathering of wrinkles by our steamy bodies. She reached into her purse and drew out a lacey pair of panties. I turned away from her and started the car before she could see the surprise on my face. We rode to her hotel in silence. I heard her let out a blissful sigh on occasion, obviously revisiting our time together. I, however, couldn't get my mind off the panties she'd neatly snuck into her purse. 

When we reached the hotel she invited me up for a shower and more. I had to decline. I had blown my lunch hour and then some. Tension crept into my limp muscles at the thought of what would be awaiting me when I returned to the office.

* * *

"Sutherland."

A voice called as I walked past an office door.

Hesitantly, I changed directions and poked my head inside the office where the voice came from.

"Heard the news?" Finn Rush was positioned on the corner of his oak desk.

"Just getting back in from an appointment. So no. What news?"

"Daniels, VIP west coast. Canned."

"For what?" This was a catastrophe for Martin Daniels, father of three and all around great guy.

"It's all about the numbers, my friend."

"And sadly Marty wasn't making his?"

"Exactly. Good news is they've already found his replacement." Finn straightened his tie then hopped off the desk. He began organizing papers and folders as if I wasn't there.

"Okay who?"

"The best man for the job I assure you." Finn sat down in the leather chair. A fool couldn't miss Finn's smug expression. I wasn't about to believe that Finn was even a consideration, but the tight lipped handling of the change in personnel proved that it could be possible.

"That was quick," I said. I watched him for any reaction.

"It's a busy time and that market, as you probably well know, is suffering. Badly." I ignored the implication that this had something to do with me since I was currently working in that market. Finn smoothed his tie over his round belly.

"Ah."

"See you tomorrow, Sutherland. Mr. Walsh will be making the announcement about the next VIP in the morning." Finn plastered a shit eating grin on his face and patted me on the shoulder before exiting the office.

I mulled over what Finn had said on the way to my desk. Could tomorrow be the changing point in my career that I'd been waiting for? I didn't dare be too hopeful. I'd put in the hours and made myself indispensible to the firm. It was time.

On my PDA, I got caught up on the emails I had missed during my romp with Marissa. Thinking about her made my stomach flutter or was it the impending possibility that my professional life was about to change for the better? Between thoughts of Marissa and thinking about the big boost my career was about to get, my head was spinning. I decided to call it a night. I would need a good night's sleep in preparation for the big day ahead.



Full Circle



*This story is based on my personal intersects in impact play, rough sex and the excitement that fighting can sometimes trigger. I am in no way condoning actual violence against women who are not willing participants and consenting to such actions. If you are sensitive to a man hitting a woman please, try a different story!* 

Her world seemed to halt when she saw his fist flying toward her face. Time slowed to an almost impossibility in her mind. All she could see was his fist coming closer and closer. Did she flinch? Did she try to throw her arms up and stop him? She had no idea of her own reactions, her whole world was now centered on that large fist flying toward her face. The second it made contact she was immediately aware of a sharp ringing in her ears, but everything else seemed to still be moving impossibly slow. She felt a weightlessness in her body as she crumpled to the floor, though in her slow motion reality it felt like she had simply floated down to the floor like a feather with no breeze to hold it up.

The instant she was on the floor, a white haze clouded her vision and she was consumed with fear. A split second later, an explosion of pain like she had never felt before went off in the nerves of her face. Though at the same time the pain hit, so did the pleasure. It was like her heart had suddenly decided it was bored of living in her chest and decided to go live in her pussy. She had never felt anything like it before, it was throbbing so wildly she briefly forgot all about the pain coursing through her cheeks, nose and jaw. She wanted more. She needed more. She lifted her head and looked at him. She saw the look of panic on his face, he regretted it.

He turned from her and began to walk away and her fear rose to new heights, he was stopping! He was leaving! He couldn't leave now, something was happening inside of her that she was immediately addicted to and she needed more...NOW!

"You always were a small cocked coward!" She snarled. They had been fighting before the initial punch, she knew that was what had set him off. She wanted to keep him there with her.

He froze mid-step and she saw his whole body tense and his fists clench into white balls of fury. Fear welled up into her throat, making her feel like vomiting but at the same time her pussy convulsed with a terror orgasm. She gasped for air as he turned to face her and she began kicking and clawing at the ground, pulling herself pathetically away from him. It was a meek attempt, she knew in her soul she did not want to get away from him at all. Would he hit her again? Would he scream in her face? Would he rip off her clothes and force his cock into her now soaking pussy? Her whole body was trembling with anticipation of what would come next.

He squatted down in front of her now shaking body and whispered in an icy rage.

"What did you say to me?"

She couldn't answer, she only stared at him with saucer round eyes, her throat so tight she *swore* she would throw up. So tight she couldn't breath. He lashed out and grabbed a fist full of her hair and painfully jerked her face as close to his as he could with out smashing them together. She cried out as her pussy fluttered again and her scalp exploded with pain. He screamed into her face so loudly his own voice went horse, ragged and strained as he screamed. "WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME CUNT!?"

Her whole body went limp and she began shaking and sobbing uncontrollably, she wanted to reach out for him but her arms would not listen to her desires. She could no longer control her own muscles. Her fear and desire had taken over her completely, all she could do was sob and feel her clit throb uncontrollably. 

He threw her down to the ground and laid on top of her, placing his forearm across her throat. Her sobs turned into choking gasps as he blocked her airway. She felt him fumble with his zipper and hers. All the while he was mumbling obscenities in her ear. "I'll show you a small cock, you cunt. I'll rip your cunt wide open. WHAT THE FUCK?" he jerked his hand away from her groin and sat back some, propping himself up with the arm that had been on her throat moments before. He lifted his other hand to stare in amazement at his glistening fingers. He threw back his head and began howling with laughter which only enraged her. 

She was filled with such an overwhelming desire for him to fuck her, and there he was laughing at her juices dripping down his fingers. She began slapping and clawing at him, screaming all her rage. "Fuck me you bastard, fuck me, rip my cunt, FUCK ME!"

He grabbed her flailing hands and slammed them painfully down against the floor, and slammed his cock as deep as he could into her drenched pussy. Her whole body went into convulsions, and her world went back into that impossibly slow reality. She felt him slamming into her so deeply she could feel the head of his cock pushing painfully against the back wall of her pussy, all the while her pussy was shuddering and convulsing around him. Waves of muscle shuddering pleasure spreading through her stomach and thighs. 

Her mind was brought back to reality by a sharp slap from him. She looked up at his sweat drenched face, reddened with anger and exertion. "Wha...?" she asked in a daze, barely able to focus on him. "I said 'BREATH BITCH'." He began moving his hips again, only slower this time with less urgency. He continued to pin her wrists painfully to the floor, but started using her pussy in a way that pleasured his cock instead of making it hurt and ache. She watched him with a glazed expression, her eyes beaming with love and adoration. She loved the way his face looked right now, his eyes closed as he used her to pleasure himself. His mouth still set in an angry grimace but that was slowly fading as his own pleasure began taking him over. His hot breath blowing across her tender and swollen face. She wrapped her legs around his hips and began rocking her own up to meet his thrusts. She began whispering between gasps and moans of pleasure. "Yes, fuck that pussy. split me open baby."

He began thrusting faster and started to grunt softly, letting his upper body drop down onto hers. He released her wrists and began trying to cover her mouth, muttering "Shut the fuck up, you'll make me cum to soon."

She was aware of the pain as his hand covered her mouth, she could only imagine the bruise she'd have later. She moaned into his hand and wrapped her arms around his back, squeezing his hips tighter with her legs. Pulling him as close to her as she humanly could. She felt her pleasure building again and her hips began bucking against him. His heavy breathing became more ragged in her ear, and he gasped out "I'm going to come with you, come all over that big cock." Between that, his hips slamming his cock more frantically into her and his cock swelling inside of her, that was all she needed to set off another mind numbing orgasm. She screamed and struggled against his body, feeling his whole body tense up on top of her as she convulsed against him. He stopped thrusting as he came, letting her wild orgasm do the work as she ground up on him. 

They screamed together, coming full circle. Earlier that night they had screamed in anger at each other, and now they screamed in love.



Full Circle



My heart ached as the casket lowered into the ground. Michelle and I had been married for 35 years, but now she was gone. The cancer had killed her amazingly fast; it was only a couple months from when she was first diagnosed until she died. She was only 56 years old.

I found myself thinking about how rich and wonderful it had been, being married to her, but then I remembered our vows – "Until death do us part" – and realized that our marriage was a chapter of my life now ended.

*****

Michelle and I had five children together, all of them now grown – three girls and two boys. The five of them were a great source of comfort to me now, helping me to remember the good times, and the life we'd shared. Especially our middle daughter, who was virtually a clone of her mother, both physically and in her personality. I never lost my sense of wonder to look at our children and realize that they came from Michelle and me; that they were literally made of the two of us, of Michelle-stuff and me-stuff. Between the five of them, and the grandchildren that were starting to arrive, they helped make the days a little less lonely.

Sometimes during the nights, though, the loneliness, the sadness and the sense of loss could get pretty challenging. It seemed to help to think back on the life we'd shared together for 35 years, and the joy she'd brought to my life. Over the years, we'd really grown together, just like it was supposed to happen.

Especially in my bed at night, I could hardly help thinking of all the great sex we'd shared over the years; the warmth of her body nestled against mine, the firm fullness of her breasts, the way she would move against me when we made love, my erection happily buried inside her.

Our sex was always good, often very good, and sometimes incredible, bordering on transcendent. A few of our very best times together kept recurring to me, like the time, on one of our family vacations, when we went skinny-dipping and made love on the beach at midnight, after putting the kids to bed, the crashing waves providing the background music as we plunged together in our mutual ecstasy. When the Northern Lights appeared in the sky above us, the moment passed from 'wonderful' into 'transcendent'.

Then there was the time we took a 'getaway weekend' at a Bed-and-Breakfast up north, when we made love again and again, and it seemed like I stayed hard inside her for hours. I would come, filling her with my semen, and we would lie in bed caressing each other until I got hard again, without me ever pulling out of her. I've often wondered whether we were annoying the other guests.

Or our 25th anniversary, when we stayed in another cabin in the woods, and spent a week-long second honeymoon completely naked together, except for the few times we needed to leave the cabin for food, or rare sight-seeing excursions. Our mutual nakedness spurred us on, again and again, to new erotic heights, and we were making love three and four times every day, like we had on our original honeymoon, even though we were, by then, well into our 40s.

I thought of our honeymoon, when we had all the time in the world just to get to know each other, and have sex again and again. We'd go out sightseeing, and hurry back to our room to have sex; then go to a play, and go back to our room to have sex, then wake up in the middle of the might to have sex, and then have sex when we woke up in the morning. It had been a wonderful time, and we would often recall those days to inspire ourselves.

I thought of our wedding night, when we'd gone to bed and started making out, like we had hundreds of times before. Then Michelle had excused herself to 'go slip into something more comfortable'. I stripped myself naked and slid under the covers to wait for her return, and whatever erotic outfit she had in store for me. When she returned, she was wearing a tattered old sweatsuit. "This is the most comfortable thing I have," she'd said, leaving us both laughing hysterically, and confirming in my mind that I had married well. Then we fell upon each other and made deep, passionate love for the first time as husband and wife. And then again and again, all through the night.

*****

I thought about the very first time we'd had sex together, one weekend in college when her dorm roommate had gone home for the weekend. I often hung out at her room, and when we were alone, we had a lot of fun making out together, and she'd let me grope her breasts.

With her roommate gone for the weekend, I don't think we were exactly thinking that we would have sex, but when the passion of our making out escalated, we didn't have the anxiety that we could be interrupted at any time, and so we just kept going. When she first gripped my erection through the front of my pants, it was about the most incredibly exciting thing I'd ever experienced.

Soon, I had her shirt off and was fumbling with the clasp of her bra. When I first laid eyes on her lovely breasts, after only ever having felt and caressed them through (or under) her clothes, it took my breath away. I couldn't help myself – I pulled her tightly to myself and began licking and suckling her firm, fleshy orbs, causing her to moan with rising arousal.

I pulled her on top of myself, and continued to suck on her breasts. When she felt my erection through both our pants, rubbing against her pubic mound, she began to grind herself against me, which only served to drive us both a little crazier.

Quickly, she hopped off me, unbuckled my belt, and peeled my jeans off me, leaving me in only my briefs, my erection sticking up like a tent-pole against the fabric of my briefs. A small wet circle spread out from the tip. At first, Michelle was shy about getting me naked, or even reaching inside my underwear. She simply gripped my cock through the fabric and held it, taking note of the size and shape of it.

Not wanting to be the only one naked, or nearly so, I reached over and unbuttoned her jeans, tugging on the waistband to pull it down over her hips. Impatiently, she stood up on the bed and wriggled out of them herself, leaving herself clad only in her cotton panties. Then she laid back down and joined me on the bed.

We hugged each other tightly. I felt her breasts pressing against my chest, her nipples digging into me. The sensation of her naked skin sliding against mine, was utterly intoxicating. I slid my hand inside the waist band of her panties, and softly caressed the cheeks of her ass. After a few minutes, I looked into her eyes; finding the permission I sought, I peeled her panties off her, leaving her completely naked, and open to my gaze.

Her pubic hair was thick and curly and dark. I reached down and began to stroke it, running my fingers through her rich, luxuriant bush. Finding the slit of her opening, I traced along it with my fingertip, noticing the puffiness of her vaginal lips. Tenderly, I pressed my fingertip inside her, while she groaned, and raised her hips up off the bed. I reveled in the smooth, moist warmth of her vagina, and I spent several minutes exploring inside her, while she squeezed on my fingers with her pelvic muscles.

Michelle had been happy to have me exploring her own most intimate parts, but eventually, she wanted to do some exploring of her own. She reached inside the waistband of my briefs, and gripped the shaft of my cock directly, before peeling my underwear off me entirely. She looked at my erect penis with something like a sense of awe. "It's wonderful," she breathed.

We flipped around so that our heads were aligned with each other's genitals, so we could explore each other at our leisure. I stroked all around her pubic hair, her labia, and inside her vagina, like it was my favorite toy on Christmas morning. Michelle was similarly occupied with my penis. 

For a long time, she was happily content to simply stroke it and squeeze it, feeling the hardness, and yet the softness of it. She traced along the rim of my cockhead, and laughed as she squeezed the head. Seeing the precum oozing from the tip, she spread it all around on my cock, and delighted in the slipperiness of it.

When we had both explored each other to our heart's content, Michelle pulled me on top of herself. She spread her legs, opening herself to me. I looked questioningly into her eyes, and she nodded.

I probed forward with the head of my cock, feeling it nestle between her pussy lips. I continued slowly pressing into her until my entire cockhead was wrapped inside her, and then inch by inch, my whole shaft was inside her, and I was buried in her completely.

Slowly, we began to grind against each other, getting acclimated to the intense sensations of being joined to each other in the most intimate way possible. I felt the smooth wetness of her vagina wrapping my pulsing rod in its warmth. Soon, I was rolling my hips into her, driving myself as deep into her as I possibly could, and we settled into a sensuous rhythm as we rocked in intercourse.

Michelle began to sob as we mated. "Oh god, Greg – you're making love to me. You're inside me, and you're making love to me. Oh god, it feels so good. I want you, Greg; I want you forever!"

Her words were just overload for my brain. Not only were we having sex together, and not only was it mind-blowingly, earth-shatteringly incredible, but I could feel it binding Michelle and me together on some deep, sub-conscious level that I didn't understand, and my excitement was off the charts. If she wanted me, I wanted her at least as much; I wanted to give myself to her completely, and to know her completely.

"I love you," I gasped, and my orgasm overtook me. Streams and rivers of semen exploded from me, and surged into Michelle, filling her with my bodily essence.

She began thrusting herself furiously up at me. "Oh, baby, you're coming in me! Oh, yes! Come in me, fill me up!"

We laid together for a long time afterward, savoring the warm afterglow of making love to each other for the very first time. I knew I wanted to marry her. I just had to wait until the details fell into place. But I WAS going to marry her.

We made love occasionally after that, when the opportunities arose, like when one of our roommates left for the weekend. Then we would virtually spend the weekend in bed together, making love as often as we could, and learning all we could about sex, and about each other.

We were married shortly after I graduated, when I was 23 and she was 21. She had a year left before she graduated, so I took a short-term job nearby until she graduated.

***** 

When we were first married, Michelle didn't care much for oral sex. She didn't mind giving me an occasional blow-job, but she hated it if I came in her mouth. And somehow, the very idea of me going down on her gave her the willies. I tried to go down on her a few times 'in the excitement of the moment', but she would always push me away, firmly. I would occasionally press the question with her, but those conversations never went like I hoped they would, so I quit asking.

Somewhere around 10 or 12 years into our marriage, though, something changed in her. Just on a lark, one day, I brought up the topic of oral sex again. I told her that sometimes, when we were making love, I just wanted to kiss her pussy, and taste her 'down there'; I asked her if she would ever consider letting me do that. Unlike all the previous times I'd asked about it years before, that time, she got a curious look on her face and said, "You know, that sounds like it could be interesting. Maybe even fun."

I was stunned. Either she didn't remember all the times she'd pushed me away, or she did, and changed her mind. Not wanting to lose an opportunity, I asked her if she would like to try it right then. She smiled and said, "Sure!"

So we went to bed and got each other naked, kissing and stroking and caressing each other's bodies. After a while, I crawled down between her legs and started nuzzling and nibbling on the soft flesh on the insides of her thighs. As I moved slowly closer to her sex, she began to squirm and moan, as my kisses drew closer to her eager womanhood.

I began nuzzling all around her pubic area, inhaling the rich, musky scent of her arousal. I was beside myself with joy at finally experiencing my wife in this intimate way that I'd always wanted to.

I kissed her labia with my lips, and she groaned, pressing her groin against my face. I licked along the inside of her delicate folds, pressing my tongue ever-so-tentatively into her opening, savoring the sharp taste of her interior, while my nose rubbed against her clitoris.

By now, she had her legs draped over my shoulders, and was squeezing my head between her thighs, as she was approaching her first oral orgasm.

I moved my mouth up, and began tending to her clit, gently sucking on it like a peach, alternating with broad, ice-cream licks across it. And that drove Michelle over the edge – soon she was bucking wildly against my face, twitching and writhing in ecstasy, as her orgasm washed over her in wave after wave. I thought she would calm down in a minute or two, like she usually did when we made love, but she just kept coming, and coming, and coming. A few times, she seemed to be calming down, but I just kept at her, and soon, she'd be thrashing around in orgasm once again.

Finally, she pushed me away, which by then, I was almost glad of, because my jaw was starting to hurt. "Twelve," she panted.

I didn't understand. "Twelve?" I aksed.

"Orgasms. Twelve orgasms."

I smiled. "So you think you might want to try it again?"

"Ummmmm. . . yeah. I think I might."

And with that, she sat up, flipping me onto my back, and took my erection, which by that time was straining against its own skin, into her mouth. I watched in wonder as she savored the taste of my throbbing manhood. Precum was oozing copiously from the tip, but Michelle was undeterred. She swirled her tongue around my cockhead and bobbed her head up and down on my shaft, while caressing my balls with her free hand. Soon I was on the edge of my own orgasm.

I tapped her on the shoulder. "Um, honey," I said, "I think I'm gonna come."

She just looked back at me and winked. "Mmmm-hmmm," she hummed, without missing a stroke.

I thought, she let me eat her pussy, maybe she's had a change of heart about me coming in her mouth, too. So I rolled my head back, and gave myself to my orgasm.

Streams of semen shot out of me, and into Michelle's mouth. I was thrusting my hips, trying to bring the mind-blowing sensations to final completion, as climactic spasms continued to wrack my cock and balls, and send globs of semen into my wife's mouth, for several minutes. And Michelle never moved her mouth from my cock; she just kept stroking and squeezing it, trying to coax every last drop out of me.

Finally, I was done. As my limp cock slipped slowly out of her mouth, I propped myself up on my elbows, and looked down at Michelle. She was grinning at me, even as her mouth, and her face all around her mouth, were glistening with a sheen of my precious bodily fluids. Slowly, she opened her mouth, showing me the huge puddle of my cum sitting in her mouth, and on her tongue. Then, still grinning from ear to ear, she closed her mouth, and swallowed. I could only groan at the incredible eroticism that had suddenly, somehow, come over my wife. As soon as I could get hard again, we made urgent, furious, passionate love, like we never had before.

And ever since then, oral sex, in both directions, had been a staple of our lovemaking.

*****

My memories of sex with Michelle gave me many hours of fond reminiscence. But there was one other woman who would occasionally come to my mind in those days of recollection following Michelle's death. That was Cindy – coincidentally enough, the only woman besides Michelle that I'd ever had sex with. We had given each other our virginities the summer after high school, having both turned 18 during the school year.

Cindy's family had moved to my town during our senior year of high school, and we just instantly hit it off with each other. Which was nice for her, being new in town; and nice for me, because the girls I'd grown up with had struggled, until then, to take notice of my desirability. Cindy and I became something like best friends, and, in the fullness of time, something more than that. By the time we graduated, we were happy to think of each other as boyfriend/girlfriend.

In the first lazy warm days of summer, we spent a lot of time together. Cindy had a job, but it was only a few hours each week, and I played baseball, which involved two or three games each week, so we still had quite a lot of free time.

One evening, Cindy came to one of my baseball games. I had a good game – I hit a home run, and my team won the game – and I was in a happily elated mood afterward. Cindy was grinning as we found each other after the game, and suggested that we go out for ice cream.

We were enjoying each other's company so much, that after we finished our ice cream, we just got in the car and drove, just so we could keep talking with each other. Eventually, we were so far out in the countryside, and the gas gage was getting low enough, that I just found a quiet place to park the car on a back-country road, so we could talk some more, without burning gas.

As we talked, Cindy slid over next to me, and I put my arm around her shoulder, hugging her tightly to myself as our conversation became more personal, revealing and intimate. Finally, during a lull in the conversation, I was just savoring being there with her, savoring the smell of her perfume and the soft texture of her hair, when she reached up with her hand, took hold of my hand, and cupped it over her breast.

I was stunned – Cindy, my girlfriend, the only girl who had ever taken any notice of me at all, had, of her own initiative, put my hand on her breast! My head spun as I gently stroked and squeezed it, for the first time in my life savoring the soft firmness of a real, live human female breast. Cindy turned her head toward me, raising her lips to invite my kiss, and I bent down to meet her lips with mine. I wasn't at all sure what I was supposed to do, but I was greatly enjoying the sweet taste of her lips against mine.

Then Cindy parted her lips ever-so-slightly, and I felt her tongue tracing along my lips. I had never experienced anything like that, and it was like a jolt of electricity shooting through my body. I parted my lips, and soon, our tongues were tangled together in a passionate embrace of their own, exploring the far corners of each other's mouths.

I turned toward her, so I could fondle her breast with my other hand, and she stroked and caressed my chest, back and shoulders. We continued making out like that for a long time, until Cindy finally sat up and broke our embrace.

"That was fun," she said, "but we really should get home before people start wondering what we're up to." I reluctantly agreed, and drove us back into town. I dropped her off at her parents' house, but before she got out of the car, we made out for a few more minutes. It had been the most exciting night of my life.

After that, we made out together whenever we could, often as not on a long drive off into the countryside, and Cindy would always let me feel her boobs.

*****

One day, I was over at Cindy's house around lunch time, much earlier in the day than usual. Her parents were both gone to work, and we were just idly watching some useless drivel on the TV while I casually fondled her breast. Finally, Cindy grew impatient with the show we were watching. "This is stupid," she declared, and turned off the TV. Then she turned toward me, in the manner I'd come to recognize as her 'let's make out' posture.

Immediately, our lips met and parted, and our tongues intertwined as we had done all summer long. But this time, instead of the front seat of my parents' car, we were on the couch in the family room of Cindy's parents' house.




Full Circle



I fondled Cindy's breasts through the fabric of her t-shirt and bra, as I'd always done, but soon Cindy took my hands and moved them under her shirt, so I was feeling the smooth skin of her belly and torso. I brushed my fingers along the edge of her bra cups, tentatively probing for permission to go further. I slid one finger under the cup, and felt the beginning of the swell of her breast, as it protruded from her chest.

But apparently, I was moving too slowly to suit Cindy. She stopped, sat up, and reached behind herself to unclasp her bra under her shirt, so it hung loosely and gave my hands free access to her naked breasts, under her shirt. Again, my mind reeled as I felt, for the first time, her naked breast. I savored the round fullness of it, the fleshy bounce, the delightful heft of it. I found the nipple at its peak, and playfully teased it, causing Cindy to groan at the sensation.

And the sensations of Cindy's naked breasts caused my erection to grow in my pants. I tried to shift position so it was less uncomfortable, but to no avail – my throbbing penis simply wouldn't allow for any reasonable sitting position. So I kept kind-of squirming in my seat while Cindy and I continued our ardent game of tonsil-hockey, and I was delightedly fondling her breasts.

And then she did it. Cindy did the most mind-blowingly exciting thing that anyone had ever done to me. Casually, almost 'accidentally' (except I knew it was no more accidental than the first time she'd put my hand on her breast), she rested her hand on the bulge in my pants. Cindy – my dear Cindy – grabbed hold of my cock. And a bomb went off in my brain.

At first, she just rested her hand there while we continued making out. But after a minute or two, she began lightly stroking along its length, and then lightly squeezing it. It was all I could do to keep from creaming my pants. Instantly, I was gasping for breath, and my hands were excitedly roaming all over every inch of Cindy's skin that I could reach.

I stroked the small of her back, and slid a finger or two under the waist of her jeans, finding the cleft of her ass. I inquisitively probed between the cheeks of her ass, and that caused her to groan, and to grip my erection even more tightly.

Suddenly, she sat up. I didn't know what to expect; things seemed to be going really well, and I was aroused and excited beyond belief, but I didn't know if she was bringing things to a screeching halt, or what.

She stood up, pulling me up off the couch as she did.

"I want you," she said, in a husky voice. Then, taking me by the hand, she pulled me down the hallway toward the bedrooms, while my breathing grew even shallower and more rapid.

I figured we were going to her bedroom, but she went right on past, and into her parents' bedroom. She closed the door behind us, locking it.

Then she turned to me, and we locked in a tight, passionate embrace, feverishly stroking each other's bodies. She broke our embrace again, and hurriedly tugged at my t-shirt, pulling it off over my head, exposing my back, chest and shoulders. Then she stepped back and raised her hands, tacitly demanding that I pull her shirt off her in like manner. Her bra hung loosely from her shoulders, and with a shrug, she cast it off, leaving her beautiful breasts exposed to my gaze for the first time. I couldn't help gawking at them, the first pair of real-live breasts that I had ever laid eyes on. They jiggled alluringly as Cindy stepped back, to display them for me. "You like?" she asked, hopefully.

"I like – a LOT!" I answered enthusiastically. I had been delighted to feel them, even through her clothes, but seeing them, and feeling their naked, jiggling heft, was beyond wonderful. "They're beautiful," I gushed, as I pulled her close. I cupped her breasts in my hands, and fondled them joyfully, while she purred happily. I bent down and kissed them, first one, and then the other, feeling their soft firmness as I licked and sucked her supple tit-flesh. I rolled my tongue across her nipples, causing her to groan, as she held my head tightly against herself.

Then Cindy lifted my head from her breast and hugged me tightly again. For the first time, I felt the full dizzying sensation of her naked skin against mine, and for several minutes, we just slid our naked torsos against each other, reveling in the amazing skin-on-skin sensation.

As we continued our delightful half-naked embrace, Cindy began fumbling with the button of my jeans, and then the zipper, until she had them unfastened. Then she slid them down over my hips until they fell to the floor. I stepped out of them, and kicked them to the side. I was standing in front of my Cindy wearing nothing but my woven briefs.

My erection made a tent in the front of the fabric, and a circle of pre-cum spread out from the tip. Cindy gasped quietly when she saw it, twitching and quivering with my excitement. Tentatively, she reached for it, gripping it in her feminine hand, while my head spun with the sensation.

"My god, it's so thick, and so hard," she whispered, as she stroked it through the stretchy fabric.

I wanted to see her the same way she was seeing me, so I reached for the button on her jeans and quickly stripped them off her, leaving her in only her panties. I pulled her tightly to myself, and again we embraced, with only our underwear between us and complete nakedness.

Cindy was getting more and more excited as she felt my hardness rubbing against her belly, and she slid herself sexily against me in a sultry erotic dance. My penis ached from the excitement of her touch.

Suddenly, Cindy broke our embrace and pulled me over to the bed – her parents' bed. The sheer boldness of it only added to the thrill of the moment. She flopped onto her back on the bed, spread her legs, and pulled me on top of herself.

My cock nestled against her pubic mound; even through the fabric of our underwear, I could feel the cleft of her pussy-lips as my shaft settled against them. 'My god,' I thought to myself, 'I'm mounting her.'

We ground against each other for a few minutes, but by that time we were both far too aroused to try to prolong the sensations.

"I want you," she groaned, huskily.

I looked back at her, questioningly.

"I want you," she repeated, more demandingly than the first time. Just to make sure I understood what she wanted, she elaborated: "I want you inside me."

My mind reeled at her words, and I could barely move, in my excitement. Cindy pushed me up off herself, and began tugging at the waistband of my briefs. She pulled the elastic over the tip of my cock, and slid them down my thighs with her feet; I finished removing them myself.

Then, as I knelt between her legs, she raised her hips up off the bed, and began tugging at her panties. I reached beneath her and pulled them over her lovely round ass, exposing the thick bush of her pubic hair to my gaze, and then the lovely folds of her vaginal lips. The musky aroma of her arousal filled my senses; I hadn't anticipated that, but it only served to heighten my excitement, and my awareness of where I was, and what I was doing.

Once her panties were off, Cindy pulled me back on top of herself. Reaching down between her legs, she gripped my straining erection and placed its head against her pussy-lips. Then she placed her hands on my ass, and simultaneously threw herself upward, and pulled me into herself, with a wild grunt.

Finding myself suddenly buried in Cindy's womanhood, I hardly had time to savor the sensations of being inside a woman for the first time in my life. For several seconds, Cindy held me tightly inside herself, and both of us strained to join our bodies at the deepest possible level. My poor throbbing cock, though, was demanding release, and I couldn't help myself as I instinctively withdrew from her and drove back into her. Her own instincts drove her to match her rhythm to mine, and without even knowing what we were doing, we were grinding our bodies together, my cock thrusting in and out of her in the age-old rhythm of intercourse.

I was too excited to even think about holding off my orgasm, and it wasn't long before I was twitching and trembling and groaning with release. It felt like all my insides were shooting out the tip of my cock, into Cindy, while she hugged me tightly and purred into my ear. "Oh, Greg. . . Oh, yeah, baby – let it all go. Come in me; I want all of you."

I laid on top her for a minute or two, gasping for breath, utterly overcome with head-spinning thoughts of what it meant that I'd just had sex for the first time in my life, and that my sperm was swimming inside Cindy. At last, I rolled off her; we stroked and caressed each other tenderly, gratefully.

Cindy giggled. "I can't believe we just had sex on my parents' bed. It just seems incredibly, I don't know, nasty. I mean, Mom and Dad have sex right here, on this same bed."

"Is that why you brought us here?" I asked.

"Uh-huh," she replied with a sexily mischievous leer. "Well, that, and it's big enough for both of us," she chuckled, "unlike my little single bed."

A moment later, she sat up suddenly, as a trickle of my semen leaked out of her and trailed down her ass. "My god," she exclaimed, "how much of that stuff did you put in me?"

"Well, I've kinda been saving up for a while," I answered. "Like my whole life."

Cindy giggled again, "And all of it for me!"

She reached for a tissue from the box beside the bed, and began cleaning the stream of cum from her ass. "I always wondered why Mom kept a box of tissues next to her bed," she mused. "I guess now I know."

We laid back down on the bed and resumed hugging and caressing each other, still savoring our mutual nakedness, in the warm afterglow of our mutual first sexual intercourse. I fondled Cindy's breasts, while she reached down and lazily stroked my soft cock. But as she stroked it, it started to get hard again, and I was instinctively grinding my hips against the movements of her hand. She purred happily at the sign of my renewed arousal, and stroked me even more enthusiastically. "You wanna do it again?" she asked.

"Mmmmmm. . . I'd love to."

"Me too," she replied. "Can I be on top this time?"

"Go for it," I answered, and she rolled over, climbing on top of me.

She nestled her pussy-lips against my shaft. At first, she simply slid herself back-and-forth along the length of my shaft, enjoying the frictional sensations between her sensitive tissues and my stiffness. She groaned with pleasure as her arousal grew. Then suddenly, she raised herself up off me for a second. Taking my cock in her hand, she placed it against her opening, and sat back down, engulfing me within herself with a lusty groan.

Our second time was much different from our first. The sensations were different with Cindy on top; my erection fit into her vagina at different angles than before, and the way our bodies moved together was different. And, since I'd just come so explosively a short time before, I was much more relaxed, and could just enjoy all the feelings and sensations of our coupling for as long as I wanted, while Cindy just ground away on top of me.

I don't know how long we mated like that, but since it was our second time and I'd come just a short while before, I was just enjoying the warm in-and-out sensations, without all the urgency to climax that I'd had the first time. In the fullness of time, Cindy began to get more and more excited – she increased her tempo, her jaw dropped open, and her head rolled back. Soon, she was grinding herself on my cock at a furious pace, and I could barely keep up with her rhythm. She began to groan, and I could feel her vagina pulsating on my shaft. Finally, she cried out several times, while her body twisted and writhed on my cock. She hadn't had an orgasm the first time we had sex, but this was about the most exciting thing I'd ever experienced, and I thrust myself up into her, shooting fresh jets of my sperm into Cindy.

When her orgasm had peaked and subsided, she fell on top of me, and the two of us kissed and nuzzled and caressed each other for a long time afterwards, with my penis still warm and snug inside her, even as it went limp.

"That was amazing!" she enthused, once we'd caught our breath and returned to earth.

"I agree," was all I could reply.

"Thanks for being my first."

"And thanks for being mine."

By then, it was getting to be late afternoon, and Cindy's mom would be home from work soon, so we got dressed and kissed each other, and I strolled home, my mind spinning a million miles an hour with all of the sensations of my very first sex, and what it meant for my life, and for Cindy and me, and how incredibly the Universe had changed in a couple hours that afternoon. . .

*****

Cindy and I continued to have sex once or twice a week for the rest of that summer, as circumstances allowed – it wasn't always easy to find the time, or the place, but we found them often enough. Our first taste of sex had been utterly addictive, and we couldn't help going back for more, whenever we could.

That fall, though, I went away to college; Cindy stayed in our hometown and took some classes at the junior college, but things began to change. At first, I came home on the weekends, and we would sneak off to have sex at least once every weekend. But inevitably, there came a weekend when I had too much studying to come home, and then another one. By the time the semester ended and I came home for Christmas break, we both were looking forward to a couple of weeks together, and all that meant for our sex lives, but deep down, we both knew that our relationship wasn't sustainable for much longer. The second semester, I hardly came home on the weekends at all. It wasn't that we were mad at each other, or anything like that; it was just that our lives had gone in different directions, and when I came home the following summer, I heard Cindy had another boyfriend, and then we just lost track of each other. By the time Michelle and I got together, Cindy wasn't even living in our hometown anymore.

But I never forgot Cindy; one doesn't forget the first time he ever had sex, or the woman he did it with – the one who changed his life forever.

Michelle and I got married, and started having kids, and building our own life together. By the time Michelle died, I hadn't seen or heard from Cindy in almost 40 years. . .

*****

A year or so after Michelle's death, I started dating again. Nothing serious, mostly just for fun and companionship. I wouldn't have minded if something had become more serious, but nothing did. That didn't bother me, though; I just figured I wasn't ready to be married again, just yet.

From time to time, I would wonder about Cindy – where was she? How had her life gone? Was she married? Did she have kids? What was she doing now? But it was all just thoughts flying by in the sky. I had no idea where she was, or how to find her. And coming to town during our senior year like she had, she didn't have many friends that might have kept in touch with her, either.

*****

The second summer after Michelle died, I did something I hadn't done in several years – I took a vacation. It was nothing exotic – I rented a cottage on the shore, a couple hours' drive from my home. I was looking forward to a lot of peace and quiet, and communing with the waves, the wind and the woods.

I arrived at the cottage on a Saturday afternoon, and once I'd unpacked and gotten myself loosely 'settled' in, I drove to the nearby small town to buy groceries. As I walked from the parking lot to the grocery store, I noticed three women talking together a row over from where I was walking. One was a striking, silver-haired older woman, perhaps about my age; the other two were younger.

It might have been the sound of her voice; it might have been her laugh; or it might have been her eyes. But as I walked past the three women, I had an instant flash of recognition of the older woman, like there was something very familiar about her lodged deeply in the back corners of my brain. Something very warm, with happy memories attached to it. I didn't want to stare, but I found myself trying to sneak close looks at her, trying to figure out where I had known her.

I'm just a little bit shy, and I really hate that whole walking-up-to-a-stranger, 'don't-I-know-you-from-somewhere' thing. But I couldn't help myself; I was certain that I knew her from somewhere, and I needed to figure out where.

"Excuse me," I said as I approached the three women. Addressing the older woman, I said, "I know this is a ridiculous thing for me to say, and I apologize for the intrusion, but you look very familiar to me, and I'm trying to figure out how I might ever have known you."

She looked at me and smiled. "I'm sure I don't know, but you look familiar to me, too."

The smile did it. Instantly, I recognized her smile as the one I'd seen on Cindy's face decades ago.

"Cindy?"

"Yes. . . I'm Cindy. . ." Now she was looking at me intently, trying to recognize my face.

I didn't let her struggle for very long before I said, "It's me – Greg."

"Oh, my god," she gasped. "Greg? After what – 40 years?"

"Something like that."

"My god! What are you doing here?"

"I'm just vacationing here for a week, at a cottage a couple miles from town, on the shore. What are you doing here?"

"Well, I've lived here for the past 25 years."

"Really? So you weren't far away from me at all! If only I'd known you were here!"

I turned my face to the two younger women, which prompted Cindy to take herself to task. "I'm sorry – Greg, these are my daughters."

"Pleased to meet you both," I said, while Cindy explained that I was her 'old boyfriend'. The girls teased her while offering me their hands, and checking me out curiously.

Turning back to Cindy, I said, "We really need some time to catch up with each other. Could we have dinner one night while I'm up here?"

"I'd like that very much. Would tonight be too soon?"

"Tonight would be wonderful. Since you live here, I should have you pick the place, and I'll meet you there. Seven?"

"Seven is great. There's a lovely little place down by the shore that the tourist-types don't much know about, but it's the best place around here."

"I'll see you there," I said, and I continued on with my grocery shopping, and Cindy and her daughters went on their own way.

*****

Cindy was waiting for me when I arrived at the restaurant. I walked over to her, and we kissed each other on the cheek. I looked at her. She really did look great; the decades had been kind to her. Her silver hair fell loosely down to her shoulders, and she wore one of those 70s-hippie-earth-mother dresses, just like the ones I'd been so smitten with when I'd known her years before. She was maybe just a few pounds heavier than she'd been in her teens, but the difference was in all the right places – both her breasts and her hips were fuller than I remembered them, but utterly appealingly so.

We got to our table and ordered a bottle of wine, which we broke into immediately while we waited for our food to come.

"My god, it's good to see you," Cindy said. "Sorry I couldn't talk longer this afternoon, but I was running errands with my daughters. I'd have given you a better introduction to my girls, but how do you explain to your daughters that this is the guy you lost your virginity with?"

She laughed heartily, and I found myself being poked in the same spot in the back of my brain – the one that said, 'My god, I remember this – her brazenly earthy sense of humor. It's one of the things about her that I liked best.' There would be many such moments that evening.

"You have daughters," I noted. "Are you married?"

She sighed. "Not any more. I was married once, long enough to have my two girls, and they're the joy of my life. But after seven years, my husband got the proverbial Itch, and he moved on from me."




Full Circle



"I'm so sorry."

"Thanks, but I've long since gotten over him."

"And you never remarried?"

"No; maybe I've been a little gun-shy. I've had a few friends-with-benefits over the years – I'm really not well-suited to celibacy, I think. You see what you started?" She laughed her earthy laugh again, and I felt my sense of recognition starting to move from my brain to my heart. And maybe someplace lower, besides.

"How about you?" she asked. "Did you ever get married?"

I smiled. "For 35 years, I was as happily married as it's possible for a man to be. My wife died two years ago."

"Oh, I am so sorry. You must miss her terribly."

"I do. She was a wonderful woman. But our five kids help keep me from getting too lonely. Except late at night," I added with a wink.

She smiled at my little flirtatiousness, but went past it. "You have five kids? I'm tempted to say, 'better her than me', but I don't want to be disrespectful."

"Oh, I don't think you could say anything I haven't heard before."

"How many boys, how many girls?"

"Three girls, two boys; oldest is 33, youngest is 25 – about the same ages as your girls, I'd guess."

"Yup. My girls are 30 and 27."

By that time, we were finished with our dinner, and the wine. I picked up the check, and we walked out into the evening twilight.

"It's too nice to just go home," Cindy said. "How would you like to go for a walk on the beach?"

"I think I'd like that very much."

It was a short walk from the restaurant to the beach. Once we got to the sand, we both slipped our shoes and socks off, so we could feel the warm sand on our bare feet. The breeze was blowing onshore from the water, and the crashing waves provided a calming backdrop. For a long time, neither of us said much. Cindy walked over to where the waves lapped up onto the shore, to feel the water rolling over her toes. She laughed, and beckoned me over to join her; and again, I recalled how she had always been a freer spirit than me, and yet how much I had enjoyed the occasions when she'd gotten me to loosen up with her. In a thousand small ways, I was remembering how I'd fallen for her all those years ago, and I could feel myself falling for her all over again.

"Tell me about your wife," she said. And honestly, for the first time since Michelle had died, I spoke freely and openly with another human being about the woman I'd shared virtually my whole adult life with, with whom I'd begotten and raised five children; who'd shared my dreams and joys, and my bed, for 35 years. I told Cindy about the pain of losing Michelle, of seeing her wither away before my eyes. I had never really wept for loss of Michelle, except once with my own daughters, but I wept that night, on the beach with Cindy. I poured out my heart to her, like I had years before on those late-night drives on back-country roads. It was like the bond we'd shared years ago, as teenagers perched on the edge of adulthood, was instantly reconstituted.

When I was finally finished, I stopped talking, and once again, there was the wind, and the sound of the crashing waves.

"Thank you for telling me that," Cindy said. "I'm honored." She wrapped her arms around my waist, and I put my arm around her shoulder. We walked along for a while longer, when Cindy reached up with her hand and dragged my hand down to her breast, just as she'd done years before. She wore no bra, and I could feel the fullness and heft of her mature breast through the light fabric of her dress, its nipple firmly erect. I felt my penis stirring.

"You might appreciate knowing," she said, "That I've never forgotten you, or that afternoon on my parents' bed. In some ways, I've spent my life waiting for someone else to come along who would love me like you did that summer. I've often wondered what might have happened if we'd managed to stay together."

I smiled sardonically. Of course, if Cindy and I had stayed together, I'd never have married Michelle, and who knows what my life might have been like? I couldn't think of anything appropriate to say; "Interesting to think about," was all I could muster.

But I continued, "I've always regretted the way things ended for us. I should have at least done you the courtesy of breaking up. Instead, we just sort of drifted away from each other."

"No regrets!" Cindy said, emphatically. "I have always treasured the times we had together, regardless of how they ended."

"Me too," I agreed. "Regardless of who I married – and we were married as happily as we possibly could have been – I have always cherished what you and I had. You have always been a significant person in my life, and you always will be; how could you not be? No one else could ever be my first."

Cindy looked back up at me. Her dark eyes flashed, framed by her striking silver hair. "Could I spend the night with you?" she asked.

"I would be honored if you would."

We'd walked so far along the beach, the lights of the town were far behind us on the shore. I looked around, trying to get my bearings in the gathering darkness. It seemed to me that we must not be far from my cottage. I told Cindy where I was staying, and she confirmed that it was just a short distance ahead, so we walked on until we encountered the sign announcing that the next stretch of beach belonged to the resort where my cottage was. We climbed up the beach and onto the resort grounds, found my cottage, and went inside.

*****

We walked through the door of the cottage and immediately took each other in our arms, kissing each other passionately. Our hands roamed freely, eagerly, over each others' bodies. I found that not only was Cindy not wearing a bra, but she wasn't wearing panties, either; I could feel the full, round cheeks of her ass, and the cleft between them, directly through her dress.

"You had plans for tonight," I said, with a smirk.

"And what if I did?" she giggled, returning a sexy grin.

I tugged my shirt-tail out from my pants and stripped my shirt off over my head, exposing my chest to my old lover. She ran her fingers through my chest hair, purring happily as she did. Then she fumbled with my belt until she had stripped my pants off me as well, leaving only my briefs between me and complete nakedness.

My penis was stiffly erect, making a tent in the front of my underwear. "Oh, look who's ready to come out and play," Cindy smiled when she saw it. Then she reached inside the waistband to take hold of it directly, squeezing and stroking it while she continued to purr happily.

It had been more than two years since I'd had any sexual contact with a woman, and my body was responding more eagerly than it had in years. I stripped my briefs off down my legs, so Cindy could have open and unimpeded access to my cock.

She stepped back from me. Lifting her dress from around her waist, she pulled it up over her head and tossed it aside, so we were both naked.

I gazed on her lovely mature feminine body, the same one I had joined myself to years before, but seasoned and experienced in ways I was only just about to find out. Her breasts were larger, and heavier-looking, than I remembered, bespeaking the maturity of her six decades, and having breast-fed two children. Her body was thicker than I remembered, but certainly not fat, and her wide hips and round ass were utterly alluring. Her pubic hair was a thick tangle of dark curls, flecked with silver-gray, which struck me as just delightfully appropriate. The rich aroma of her arousal wafted up from her vagina to my nostrils.

"I haven't been this wet in years," she breathed.

I took her in my arms again, and our naked bodies slid against each other. A groan escaped Cindy's mouth as my cock rubbed against her belly.

I took her over to the bed and gently laid her down upon it, with her ass on the edge of the bed and her legs hanging down to the floor. I knelt between her legs and laid them up over my shoulders. Then I began nibbling and nuzzling the soft flesh on the insides of her thighs, drawing ever-closer to her center as I did. I ran my fingers through her pubic hair, and up over her belly, caressing her breasts. My lips were nibbling at her pubic hair and my tongue probed into her opening, while Cindy began groaning and writhing against my oral ministrations.

"You've picked up a few tricks over the years," she gasped, as I continued to plunder her pussy with my mouth.

"Mmm-hmm," I hummed in agreement, without removing my mouth from her.

I found her clitoris, and began tending to it, alternating broad, ice-cream licks with gently sucking on it like a peach, licking little circles around it. Cindy gasped at the intensity of the sensations, and soon she was twisting and writhing in orgasm, crying out, "Oh God! Ooooohhh Yes!!" over and over, in the ecstasy of her climax.

I didn't stop when her orgasm subsided, but continued licking and sucking on her clit, until she'd had a few more orgasms, clenching my head between her strong thighs. Finally, when she could stand no more of my oral attentions, she tugged me away from her crotch.

Looking into my eyes, she said, in a husky voice, "I want you."

An electric shock traveled through my body at those words from so many years ago.

"That's what you said to me the very first time we made love," I said.

"I know," she answered. "I want to feel you inside me, just like I did then. Put your cock in me; join your body to mine."

My head spun at the thought that Cindy wanted me at that moment, as badly as I wanted her. Forty years before, her vagina had been the first one (and still the only one besides Michelle's) to receive my erect penis inside itself, and my first orgasm with a woman had filled her womb with my seed. And here we were, coming full circle from our mutual sexual beginnings all those years ago.

Cindy pulled me up on top of herself, and gripping my cock in her feminine hands, she placed its head against her entrance. Ever-so-tenderly, I pressed forward, parting her cunt-lips with my cockhead, while she groaned at the sensation of me entering her. I continued to penetrate her slowly; an inch of my shaft pressed into her, then two. When I was fully buried inside her, my pubic bone bumped against hers, and I could feel my balls nestled against her ass. My cock throbbed with excitement as its tip probed the deepest corners of Cindy's vagina. She squeezed my shaft with her cunt-muscles, and I groaned at the intensity of the sensation. She had picked up a few tricks of her own, over the years.

I looked into her eyes, and she returned my gaze, looking, it seemed, directly into my soul. There was a connection between us that I'd only ever experienced with Michelle – perhaps having sex with each other all those years ago had left its imprint on us, I don't know.

Slowly, I withdrew my cock from inside her, then just as slowly, drove back into her, grinding my pubes against hers as I bottomed-out inside her once more. For a long while, we mated slowly and sensuously, savoring every millimeter of contact between our bodies. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been so hard, for so long; I just kept plunging in and out of Cindy, slowly and deliberately, pressing into her at the bottom of every stroke, and rolling my hips to drive myself as deeply as possible into her.

Cindy began to drive her hips back up against me, increasing the tempo. I presumed that she must be approaching her orgasm, so I matched my tempo to the one she seemed to prefer, inexorably moving faster as we went on. Soon, we were both gasping and panting for breath, groaning and crying out with pleasure as we pounded our bodies against each other. Her movements were provoking sensations in my cock that I hadn't felt in years, and soon, I felt my climax rising in my balls. I was just about to announce my orgasm to Cindy, when she began quivering and wailing, and she clenched her legs around my waist, pulling me into herself. Her eyes rolled back in their sockets as an explosive orgasm began to wash over her in wave after wave. That was all I could stand, and with a primal grunt, I sent my semen surging into her. Again and again, my body shook with orgasmic spasms as I sent jet after pulsing jet of my thick white cum into her, and her orgasm rolled over her in wave after wave.

At last, both our climaxes subsided, and I collapsed on top of her. I stayed semi-hard inside her for a long time afterward, and we tenderly kissed and stroked each other, enjoying the warm afterglow of our lovemaking.

Finally, my soft penis slipped out of her, and I rolled off her.

"My god," she breathed, "I don't think I've ever had sex like that in my life; not with my husband, or any of my other lovers."

I smiled to myself. I could remember having sex like this with Michelle, but it wasn't an every-day occurrence. Or even every month. But I hadn't had sex of any kind since months before Michelle had died, and my body was still tingling with excitement from the explosive orgasm I'd just had.

"I'm so glad we found each other," I whispered.

"Me too," Cindy replied.

For a long while, we laid in bed, cuddling together, not saying a word, trying to absorb the events of the past few hours. Eventually, I could hear Cindy breathing the heavy breath of deep, contented sleep. I smiled, happy that I'd brought her to a good and peaceful place, and enjoying, for the first time in years, the feeling of a warm female body in my bed. And before long, I had joined her in a deep, happy sleep.

*****

The next morning, I awoke before Cindy did. For a long time, I lay there, gazing aimlessly off into space, the warmth of Cindy's body radiating against mine.

I felt troubled, and I couldn't really put my finger on why I felt that way. It wasn't guilt, but something like sadness, or a vague remorse. Almost like I'd been unfaithful to Michelle, but that wasn't it, either; maybe more like I'd been untrue to her memory, or something like that.

Michelle had always known about Cindy, of course, and my previous sexual history had never bothered her in the least. In her joking moments, Michelle would even say that she'd like to thank Cindy someday, for breaking me in so well.

But since Michelle had died, and as the months and years passed, I sometimes found myself struggling to hold the details of her in my memory – her smile, her smell, her endearing mannerisms – and that could provoke something like panic in me, as I felt her slipping further away from me. And now, unable to make love to her anymore, I had taken Cindy into my bed. That we'd had such a richly wonderful time together did nothing to assuage my feeling of loss.

At that moment, I had one of the oddest experiences of my life. I swear I heard a voice – not an audible voice, but not just my own thoughts, either. In some uncanny way that I can't begin to explain, I knew it was Michelle, speaking to my soul, from whatever better place she was in.

"Greg," the voice began, "there is nothing for you to feel sorry or sad about. Whatever you do, I will always be part of you. Our lives are irrevocably intertwined, even when you don't 'feel' my presence."

The voice, and its (her?) message, were taking my breath away.

"Don't be afraid to take her to yourself, Greg. You won't – you couldn't – diminish me if you do. Her love has already been good for you, and yours for her. Love her well. . ."

And with that, the voice ended, leaving me wondering what had just happened. It had almost felt like my late wife was setting me up with my next one. I glanced down at Cindy, still sleeping contentedly, nestled warmly against my side. I put my arm around her, and pulled her close against me, and just savored her presence in my bed, pondering what 'Michelle' had said.

It wasn't long before Cindy began to stir awake. Her hand flopped loosely against my body, 'accidentally' finding my morning wood.

"Mmmmmm," she purred. "Good morning."

"Good morning yourself," I replied. "Did you sleep well?"

"Like a baby."

"I'm glad."

"I had the strangest dream, though."

"Do tell."

"It was the weirdest thing – your wife came to me in my dream," she began. 

A chill ran down my spine. It was beginning to seem that Michelle had been busy. "My wife – Michelle – appeared in your dream?"

Cindy nodded. "I don't know how I knew it was your wife – I've never even met her – but it was her. She sat down next to me, and said, 'Please take care of Greg, if you're willing.' Like she was handing you over to me, or something. Really strange."

"You have no idea how strange," I said. Then I told her about my uncanny 'voice'. "You think my wife is trying to play Matchmaker for us?"

Cindy laughed, the hearty laugh that I'd heard the previous day in the grocery store parking lot, which had provoked my long-buried memories of her. "Wouldn't that be a story to tell?" Then she added, "It's not like I needed a lot of coaxing; I mean, look where I am!"

Cindy hadn't stopped lazily stroking my cock since she'd taken hold of it on awaking. Now, she began stroking me more attentively, cupping and fondling my balls, and sensuously stroking along the length of my shaft with her gentle feminine hands, while I rolled my head back to enjoy the sensations she was creating.

She leaned over and took my cock into her mouth, purring happily as she ran her lips and tongue over my cockhead, and bobbed her head up and down on my shaft.

I reached over, and maneuvered her into a 69 position above me. I gazed up at her aroused vagina – her pussy-lips were soft and puffy, and her petals were puckering open to receive me. Her rich, musky scent filled the air around me.

Placing my hands on her ass-cheeks, I pulled her down to my face and began to eat her pussy again. She squirmed at the first sensations of my tongue on her clit, while my nose nudged between her cunt-lips.

I was utterly reveling in the dual sensations of Cindy's mouth humming on my cock, and her vagina on my mouth. Lazily, I drove my cock in and out of her mouth, while she ground her pussy against my face. After a while, Cindy sat up, supporting herself with her hands on my chest. Clearly, she was getting close to coming, because soon she was grinding herself on my face at a furious pace, as I licked and sucked on her clit for all I was worth. At last, she trembled and quivered, and with a loud erotic wail, she climaxed, her vaginal juices flowing down onto my chin.

She rolled off me, but my cock was still stiffly erect, and desperately in need of further attention. Turning herself around, she threw one leg over me and positioned her entrance against my cockhead. Gripping my eager man-meat in her hand, she pressed the tip between her juicy labia, and slowly took me into herself. Inch by sensuous inch, Cindy slid erotically downward, until I was completely buried inside her once again.

"Oooohhh," she groaned. "You feel so good inside me, filling me up with your wonderful cock." My erection swelled even more at her encouragement, as she began grinding me in and out of herself. Leaning forward, she presented her full, luscious tits in front of my face, inviting me to suckle them, which I was only too happy to oblige. I slurped and sucked happily, sucking her soft, yet firm tit-flesh into my mouth, and rolling her nipples on my tongue, while Cindy groaned at the sensations. She sat back up again, and I reached up and kneaded her tits while she rode me.

"Oh, Greg," she cooed. "Your big cock is filling me up. Fuck me, Greg. Drive your big, hard cock into my wet, slippery cunt and fuck me 'til I come."

I chuckled to myself at her words, which were raising my sexual excitement even higher. Michelle would never use words like 'fuck' and 'cunt', even in the midst of passionate lovemaking. But when Cindy said them, it seemed to escalate the raw passion of the moment.




Full Circle



In fact, I was savoring the comparison of having sex with Cindy and Michelle – Cindy was a robust, energetic lover, whereas Michelle had been more subtle and sensual. Cindy was a bit larger, and more muscular, than Michelle; and, whereas with Michelle, I had almost always felt like I was 'in control' of our lovemaking, Cindy was much more assertive, and I found myself responding to her movements more than I had with Michelle. Michelle had a tighter pussy, but Cindy just seemed to engulf me inside herself. Not remotely that one was a better, or hotter lover than the other one, but their different bodies, and their different moves, made sex with each of them utterly unique, and exciting in their own way.

I managed to stay hard for a long time while Cindy and I fucked happily away. It had been a long time since I'd shot multiple loads in 24 hours, much less stayed hard for as long as I was, but evidently, my long layoff had left me with some pent-up sexual energy and stamina. I felt my cockhead reaching deep inside her, probing the deepest corners of her vagina, as she continued to squeeze my rod with her cunt-muscles, and her pubic bone ground against mine.

On and on we mated, leisurely, sensuously, unconscious of the passage of time. I was unaware of anything except my erection plunging in and out of Cindy, and the warm, buzzing glow she was generating in my cock. It seemed I could stay hard forever, if only I could keep fucking Cindy, who wore a dreamy smile as we undulated on and on in intercourse.

At last, Cindy began to breathe heavily, and her happy purring transformed into something more like urgent moans and groans. She increased her tempo, and soon her hips were virtually a blur as she ground them furiously on my cock. For a long time, I had stayed at an arousal level just below 'I-could-come-anytime-now', but her vigorous gyrations on my cock pushed me quickly over the orgasmic edge.

"Cindy," I groaned, "I'm gonna – AAUUGGHH!!" And with a loud orgasmic grunt, I emptied my balls into her once more, sending thick white ropes of my cum into her.

When Cindy felt my orgasm burst inside herself, she surrendered to her own climax. "Ooohhh, YESSS!!" she cried. "You're filling me up again! Shoot your cum into me! Yes! I'm coming, and you're coming in me. Oh, god yes!"

It seemed like we were coming for hours, our bodies twitching and quivering and writhing against each other as wave after orgasmic wave washed over us, seeming to meld us into a single erotic entity. When the last wave finally crested and broke, Cindy collapsed on top of me. For a long time, we were both gasping for breath as we came down from our incredible mutual climax. My penis stayed semi-hard inside her, and she continued sliding her breasts sensually against my chest, for a long time; neither of us could bear to break our deep erotic connection. At last, my penis slipped out of her, and she rolled off me onto the bed.

My head spun with the thought that I'd just had sex with Cindy again, four decades after the last time we'd fucked. Obviously, we'd both learned a lot since the wonder of those first days of sexual initiation. Before I'd met Cindy the day before, I'd only ever had sex with two women, and that was just as true now, after spending an incredibly erotic night and morning with her. Could it all be a huge coincidence, or. . .? I just didn't know what to think.

Cindy brought me back to reality. "You, sir," she said to me, "are a fantastic lover. That might have been the best sex I've ever had."

"Speak for yourself," I said, grinning back. "A little different than those first few times, years ago, eh?"

She laughed her hearty laugh again. "You think we've gotten a little better at it?"

"Just a little, maybe."

*****

We gathered our clothes and got dressed, then strolled back down to the beach and along the shore into town, where both our cars were still parked.

As we walked, we tried to make sense of the events of the past 24 hours – our 'coincidental' encounter in the parking lot, my 'voice' and Cindy's dream, hours of mind-blowing sex.

"What do you make of it all?" I asked Cindy.

"I don't know what to make of it," she admitted. "It's the strangest thing I've ever encountered. Except the sex; that wasn't strange at all; just wonderful."

"Do you think we could really do it? Get married, I mean?"

"It just seems crazy to talk about. I mean, we've just met each other for the first time in 40 years, and you're just two years removed from a wonderful marriage to your wife that spanned most of that time."

"I know. But in some ways, it's like we never left – so much of how you are is still just utterly familiar to me, even though we've been apart for so long."

"I've felt that, too; sometimes, it's like we were never apart. I'm certainly willing to explore marriage with you. And the sex is definitely good enough to keep me interested. But let's not be hasty, OK? I mean, if 'Michelle' is right, it's all good, even if we take our time getting there. Right?"

"Right you are, my dear."

*****

We walked into town and caught breakfast at a local coffee shop. Then we took Cindy's car back to her house, and she joined me at the cottage for a few more days of hot sex, which were no less wonderful than the first one. I cashed out from the cottage, and spent the rest of my vacation with Cindy at her house. I got to meet her daughters, who were giving their mother no end of innuendo-laden teasing. Apparently, this was a side of their mother that they hadn't seen much of before. At the end of the week, I returned home, but we've spent weekends together, at her house or mine, ever since. And even as different as she is from their mother, my kids really like her, too.

I'm thinking, though, that it's time to finish what we started, and the next time I see her, I'm going to ask her to marry me, and throw her life in with mine. Of course, it wouldn't be the same thing, but I'd love to give Cindy a notion of what it might have been like if we'd stayed together, all those years ago. And bring my own sexual history 'back to where it all began'. Full circle, indeed.



Full Circle



Ashley Harmour was sitting gloomily on the divan idly turning the pages of a magazine. Somehow the romances of film and television personalities didn't interest her, nor the advertisements announcing that she could look twenty years younger if she used their product. She threw the magazine aside regretting the five dollars she had spent on it in the supermarket. 

After a few moments she unbuttoned her shirt put her hands under her breasts and felt them, a look of misty contemplation in her eyes, as if remembering something. 

She released her breasts and freed from her grasp they quivered briefly like firm jelly and Ashley continued to stare down at them. She had liked her breasts ever since they had first developed in her early teens and they seemed to be as firm and alive now as they had been then. She smiled ruefully as if again remembering something.

Yes, she considered her breasts to be her best feature, unless of course she took into account her legs. She pulled up her skirt and then stretched out her legs and reaching down to grasp her slender ankles she began to feel upwards over the firm but smooth calves and then the swell of her thighs. 

"Yes," she thought, "I've got good legs and what a pity that..." She stopped the thought in its tracks because what was the use of grieving over something that had never happened unless it was to grieve because it hadn't happened? "Yet" she thought, "It might have happened."

Her fingers touched the outer lips of her genitals and for few moments she ran a finger thoughtfully along the furrow. 

As if with sudden resolve she reached out for her dildo lying on the table before her. She considered for a few moment whether to take her panties off or leave them on. She'd left them on when she had brought herself to an orgasm a couple of hours ago, but this time she decided to take them off.

She began to run the head of the dildo slowly along the groove of her vulva; slowly because after all what else had she got to do, so she might as well take her time bringing herself to another orgasm.

There was the sound of The Charge of the Light Brigade from her mobile lying on the table. She cursed the interruption to her gentle stimulation and ignored the call. She increased the pace of her dildo stimulation and orgasm wasn't far away, and the mobile sounded off again.

This time she gave up. She'd have to leave the orgasm for later. Irritably she picked up the mobile expecting to hear an Indian voice trying to sell her something. "Yes?" she snapped, but her irritability faded and her face took on a look of surprise as she said, "Martin...it is you darling?" 

"No...No, it's just that I didn't expect you to call, is there something wrong?"

"No...No darling, I didn't mean it like that; it's lovely to hear from you."

A smile wreathed her face and she seemed to be transformed from gloom to delight.

"Yes, it has been a long time, but after all the trouble about..."

"No...No my love, I never blamed you, not for a minute, I told you that at the time. There really was no need for you to leave home, it was your father who..."

"Oh, of course, you don't know. Yes, we got divorced and I believe he's going to remarry. I would have let you know but I didn't have your address or any contact number and so..."

"No darling, I've just said I've never blamed you, and after all it was perfectly innocent wasn't it. Your father just happened to walk it at the wrong time and took it to be something it wasn't, not really."

"Yes, it was unfortunate. Yes, I know you thought that leaving home would settle things and dad would calm down, but it did no good, he had to have his revenge. 

Yes, I saw them out together once but they didn't see me. 

"No darling she didn't look like a slut, in fact I have to admit she looked rather sweet; a Chinese or Japanese girl I think, but years younger than your father."

"Thinking about it since I suppose our marriage had dried up long before the incident, and perhaps that was why the incident happened at all. I just needed some love and affection...no darling I'm not blaming myself I'm long past that."

"Now that's a lovely thing to say, but I've never thought of myself as beautiful...yes I know you often said so and perhaps that was also part of the trouble, but it's no use regretting it now and brooding over it, so tell me, are you dating anyone?"

"Oh, I see. Well it happens like that sometimes and you have to..." 

Ashley laughed softly. "No darling, I haven't got ambitions to be a grandmother, not for while anyway and in any case I'm not past the age of child bearing myself, so if I wanted any little ones around I could manufacture them myself, with help of course."

"Would I like to? Well yes, I would have liked to but your father...no, it was his career and I tried to..."

"No, I'm not dating; I haven't got the right attitude for it, not after all the trouble."

"Yes, it can get lonely but somehow I seem to have lost my social skills, if I ever had any. I think now that I may have devoted too much time to the home and your father, and never socialised enough...no darling, of course I never regretted having you. You were always a bright spot in my life, especially towards the end, and you still are in a way."

"Yes, I often think about you."

Ashley took hold of the dildo again and began to side it along the groove of her vulva as she listened to Martin. 

"Do...do you sometimes think of me?"

The dildo slipped between the lips of her vulva and entered her vagina.

Her voice became tense. "You do! Darling I think you're exaggerating...yes...I suppose you're right, we often have the people we love on our mind, especially those who are far away."

Ashley was moving the dildo faster and faster and suddenly she transferred its head to her clitoris and began stimulating it with rapid little movements.

"It's...it's those who...oh...oh...oh my darling...ah...ah...I love you...I..."

"What? No I'm all right darling, just a little twinge, indigestion, something I ate, it's stopped now. Did I? Well of course I love you so why shouldn't I say it."

"Yes even in the midst of a bout of indigestion."

Ashley let the dildo drop between her legs.

"There's never a right time or a wrong time to tell someone you love them, you just tell them because...because one day you might not be able to tell them and then you spend the rest of your life regretting you didn't simply say, I love you, and it's best if you can say it face to face, but if it's necessary you say it over a mobile phone."

Ashley laughed weakly. "No Martin, I'm not expecting you to die, I just felt like saying it. Don't you sometimes feel like saying things to people on the spur of the moment?"

"Yes, I agree, telling someone you love them can leave you open to them, they can even break your heart if they reject your love and...No, I wasn't talking about us especially but perhaps in a way I was. You must have known what you were doing to me when you left home...yes I know you meant it for the best but it didn't work out that way. Look at us now. Your father and I divorced and he going to marry another woman, and you and I far apart."

"What do you mean we're not far apart?"

"Oh you beast, you horrible boy, why didn't you tell me straight away?"

Ashley picked up the dildo and sniffed its head and then licked it.

"That's ridiculous darling, of course I want you here. How long are you able to stay?"

"You don't know...the company hasn't said."

"Yes, I understand your reasons for staying away. Perhaps I should have been glad that you stayed away for the same reasons, but I've never been quite able to bring myself to feel like that. And now there's no reason why you should stay away, I'm here all alone and... and I need you."

Ashley reinserted the dildo into her vagina but didn't move it.

"Yes, that's what I said Martin, I need you."

"Hello...hello...are you still there Martin? Oh you are."

"What I meant darling was that I need you in any way you need me, no more than that."

"I know, I've known ever since you were fourteen. I've known and understood because I'm sure it happens to a lot of mothers and sons."

"No, I thought it was rather sweet, a son loving his mother in that way."

"Yes darling, but you left me. Your father might have cooled down eventually, and you and I, we could have talked about it. Not talking about it only leaves it to fester inside."

"Yes, we might have found a solution if we had been more open with each other." 

"I suppose it doesn't matter now; time changes things and people and we can make a fresh start."

"Well yes, I suppose we do still need to talk about it clear the air between us."

When do you think you'll arrive?"

"An hour, as soon as that! You might give your poor old mother a chance to prepare for her son's arrival."

"No, it's all right; you come as soon as you like. So until then."

Ashley held on to the mobile for several moments as if wishing Martin was still at the other end, and then with a quivering sigh put the mobile on the table and withdrawing the dildo she looked at it speculatively. 

* * * * * * * *

Carrying the dildo Ashley left the room and went to her bedroom. There she undressed and briefly looked at her self in the mirror. Martin had said so often that she was beautiful and he had repeated it over the mobile, and he had said it at the time of the trouble, but the trouble was two years ago. Had she changed since then? Had the loneliness soured her? 

Would Martin still find her beautiful? In any case it had been a son's love for his mother that caused him to see beauty in her. If he had seen her as a stranger on the street or just met her at a party, would he have seen her as beautiful then?

She didn't know. She only knew that the thought of him returning home excited her, she felt more alive than she had since he had left. Now that he was returning would there be something more than a kiss? It had been a kiss that had infuriated his father; a kiss that had driven Martin from home; no more than a kiss and all that trouble! But even as she thought of it she knew she was lying to herself. 

It had been more than just a kiss, it had been an open mouth tongue tangling kiss and they had clung together, and Martin's hand had just closed over one of her breasts when her husband had walked in. He had been furious, and maintained his rage until Martin had left home, and then he sought his revenge, and his revenge was a pretty Asiatic girl who, when she had seen them together, looked pregnant. 

Ashley had tried not to be bitter about that, but he had denied her more children for years, and she had devoted herself to keeping an orderly home and helped his career wherever she could, and she had ended up with some money, a house and no son and a lonely life.

But now that was to change. Martin was coming home!

Just the thought of his arrival seemed to change her surroundings. The house that had for so long been in shadow seemed suddenly brighter, as if the sun had come out and driven the gloom away. She would have someone to cook for, to clean for, someone to talk to and...and someone to live for.

The gloom descended again She had been right when she had said that time changes people and things. What right did she have to expect things would not be different with her and Martin. It had been two years since that day and although Martin had spoken to her very lovingly over the mobile, perhaps he was just coming home, not for her, but for somewhere convenient to stay while he was still in the city.

Ashley tried to shake off her pessimism and went to take a hurried shower. Afterwards she returned to her bedroom to choose what she would wear, she must at least look her best as she welcomed Martin home. 

As she rifled through her wardrobe something slipped off its hanger. She picked it up. She hadn't worn it for years - in fact for two years - it was a black peignoir, the one she had been wearing when she and Martin had...had..."

She had bought it originally for Arthur's sake, or rather to try and awaken what had become an arid marriage, but it hadn't worked with him but it had worked too well with Martin. 

As now she had just finished showering and had emerged from the shower room wearing the peignoir and was making her way to her bedroom. Martin had emerged from his room and had stood gazing at her. She was not naïve and she knew exactly why he was gazing; the peignoir was very transparent, Martin had never seen her wearing it before and his response was obvious from the bulge in his groin. 

It was goodnight time and Ashley had said "goodnight" and kissed him. He had drawn her close until she felt his manhood pressed against her lower belly and their kiss had passed beyond the filial to a lover's kiss. With the peignoir it was so easy for Martin's hand to slide inside it and touch her breast. What might have happened next would never be known because Arthur arrived unexpectedly on the scene and all hell broke loose. 

* * * * * * * * 

Ashley began to restore the garment to its hanger, but stopped. She held it up, looking at it speculatively. Would Martin like to see her in it again, a reminder of what had been and what it might have become?

Ashley shook herself out of her reverie. No, wearing it would be a step too far, it would be too obvious, it would expose her true feelings so clearly and she would be vulnerable. 

She replaced the garment and the hanger and chose a dark green dress that would complement her dark hair, but she changed her mind again. She replaced the green dress and considered again the peignoir. What if it did expose her body and her desire, what did it matter after the hurt she had experienced. At least Martin would know the truth about how she felt; a sort of wordless exposure of her desires. If he rejected her vulnerability so what? Would it be any worse than the two years she had fantasised about him, crying out his name as she orgasmed? At least she would know the truth of Martin's feelings for her.

Her thoughts went back again to that night. When Martin saw her in the peignoir he had said, "You're so beautiful mother." Whether that was objectively true or not hadn't seemed to matter. The mere fact that her son saw her as beautiful was enough, and it had made her feel beautiful in a way that Arthur had not done for years. 

When the first kiss had ended Martin had said, "I love you so much mother." He had told her he loved her many times before, but never with that yearning ardour as then. When they kissed again and his hand had come to rest on her breast she had known what must happen next and welcomed it as the end of the long night of their unfulfilled desires. But then Arthur had come upon them and the darkness returned darker than ever, but with the added anguish of what might have been.

Ashley put on the peignoir and then once more considered herself in the mirror. The practical concern was whether or not she should wear panties and bra under the peignoir. Without them she was even more exposed: her breasts were mistily seen, as was the little triangle of silky pubic hair. That was how it had been the last time, but would it affect Martin now as it had then?

Something like a spirit of defiance rose up in Ashley. If she had gone so far as to wear the peignoir then why not go the whole way. She had said that Martin's return offered a new beginning for their relationship, so let him see her as she had been the last time, and if he found her physically repugnant this time then they would at least know the basis on which their new relationship was to be built.

She decided to omit panties and bra.

Her thoughts wandered on; what did she really want of Martin? Once, two years ago it had been a desire for love and affection, and yes, she admitted to herself, sex with him, a time of lust mingled with love that would give them release from their sexual hunger and it would have been safe then, but now, what?

She had no means of being sure of what Martin might want of her, if anything beyond that of a filial relationship. But if he wanted more, if he wanted to pick up where they had been so tragically separated, was this what she wanted?

Yes she wanted that but she wanted more. Some deep female longing that is a mystery to most men stirred within her. She wanted the sex and the passion, she wanted it dearly, but beyond that she wanted the fruit of that passion.

Ashley shook herself out of her daydream; what she wanted was no more than that, a dream. 

She glanced at the clock. Martin had said it would take him and hour to be with her, and already it was five minutes to the hour. She looked at herself in the mirror for the last time, and then remembered she had some perfume left that Martin had always liked, a subtle and yet sensual aroma. She patted some on her body, and wearing only the peignoir she left the bedroom.

* * * * * * * *

Ashley had intended to sit in the lounge while she waited for Martin because from there she would be sure to hear his car arrive and be ready to greet him in the hallway. 

But Martin was a minute or two early and before Ashley could reach the hallway Martin had entered using his key. Ashley noted this. The key to the front door had been given to him on his sixteenth birthday and he had clearly retained it when he left home. The indication was that he had always intended to return one day.

When Ashley entered the hallway it was to see Martin standing there looking round as one does when returning too an old familiar place and noting the changes that might have taken place.

Ashley was barefoot and had entered silently and Martin had not heard her. This gave Ashley a chance to survey her son. He looked taller and broader and there was a look of confidence and maturity about him.

Ashley whispered, "Martin."

"Mother," he responded, and they stood silently looking at each other. Whatever ideas they might have had about how they would greet each other, they now fled. The reality of each other's presence after two years rendered them self-conscious and wordless.

Ashley wondered if Martin was remembering those few moments when they had come so close to physically expressing their love and was now embarrassed by the memory and regretting that they had come so close to the deed.

She wondered if she should break the silence by saying "Welcome home," but somehow that would sound mundane given the relationship they had once had. 

It was left to Martin to end the silence. He took a hesitant step towards her and then stopped. The words came out tentatively as very quietly he said, "Mother, you...you look lovely."

Ashley's mind seemed to spin. Whatever else she had expected her son to say, it was not that, yet hadn't she calculatingly prepared herself in the hope of hearing such words.

She thought for a moment she was going to faint and reached out her hand to the wall for support, and it was then that the uncertainty ceased. Seeing his mother in distress Martin move forward quickly putting his arms round her and anxiously asking, "Mother, what's the matter, are you ill?"

Feeling his arms round her Ashley's mind began to clear. She felt secure and more certain of herself. "No darling," she said, "I think it's just the excitement of seeing you again, I'll be all right in a moment." 

Martin continued to hold her, and he smelt the faint aroma of her perfume and became aware of the warmth and softness of her body against his and it was as if they had gone back two years.

Ashley, now recovered, made no attempt to move from his arms, for her part she sensed his strength and protectiveness. "I haven't even kissed you," she said. 

It was Martin who amended this. Putting a hand on her cheek he bent his head to kiss his mother softly on the lips. "I've missed you so much," Ashley murmured.




Full Circle



"And I you," Martin responded.

Ashley had not intended to admonish him, but the words came almost unbidden, "You should never have left me, it was cruel when I loved and needed you so much"

"Yes, it may seem that way," Martin agreed, but added, "Perhaps it had to be that way because we needed to find out what we really wanted. Let's sit down."

He led Ashley into the lounge and drew her down onto the divan and sat beside her. 

"And have you found out what you want?" Ashley asked.

"Yes."

"And what is it you want?"

Martin paused before replying and then said, "It's strange because I've come full circle. I want what I've always wanted and yet I never thought I could have, and then at the very moment I found I could have it, it was snatched away."

Ashley snuggled close to him and said, "Perhaps we all have to go on a voyage of self discovery before we understand our true needs."

"And sometimes when we find out what we truly want, it's too late," Martin said. "We let our chances slip away or they are taken away from us."

Ashley reached up and putting her hands behind his head she said, "Perhaps it's a matter of time. patience and the chance of return," and then she kissed him.

Mother and son sat looking at each other searchingly until Martin asked, "Do you think the chance is here now?"

Ashley's genitals were engorged, her vagina flooding and her clitoris pulsing almost painfully. She kissed Martin again, flicking the tip of her tongue over his lips until he opened his mouth and her tongue entered and explored. She felt Martin's hand slip inside her peignoir and close over one of her breasts. 

The kiss ended and again they looked at each other and Ashley said, "Does that answer your question darling?" 

"Yes," Martin breathed. 

"Are you sure it's what you want Martin, because once it's done there can be no going back for people like us," Ashley said solemnly.

"It's what I've come home for," Martin replied.

There was silence for several moments, and then Ashley said in a hushed but fervent tone, "Shall we find out if we have come full circle my love?"

* * * * * * * *

They were alone and there was nothing or anyone to stop the progress of their love except the enormity of the deed itself. What happened however was strangely quiet as if they were dealing with sacred things, which perhaps they were?

It might be supposed that their first sexual coupling would be frenetic and over quickly, but it was not so. There were no great uproars or screams, no wailing or shrieks, just whispered words of love and gentle groans of ecstasy and the occasional outcry as mother and son relished each other.

Martin began by slowly removing Ashley's peignoir as if enjoying the gradual revelation of his mother's body, and when she was naked he gazed at her and said, "You're so lovely mother."

"Let me see you," Ashley said in a voice like trees whispering in a gentle breeze. 

Martin rose and Ashley with him. She helped him undress and as he stood naked before her she surveyed him, and then taking his erect penis in her hand she said, "I never knew it was so big."

Martin's response was to press her back onto the divan and sitting beside her he cupped her breasts with his hands and said, "I always knew these were lovely."

He leaned over her and caressing one breast he sucked the nipple of the other relishing the first taste of his mother. Ashley held his head to her and stroking his hair she gave herself up to his caresses.

From her breasts Martin began to kiss and lick his way down her body as if making his mark on her - taking possession of her, and when he reached her mons he dropped to the floor on his knees and moved Ashley so that he was between her thighs.

For a few moments he stroked the lips of her vulva with his finger and then leaned forward and kissed them. With his fingers he parted the lips and began to lick her soft pink inner lips. 

Ashley had never experienced cunnilingus before, and had it been any other man, even Arthur, she might have been repelled, but with Martin it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to submit to his tonguing stimulation; his desire to taste and smell her femaleness. 

It began like a far off tremor that as it approached made her body tense. It seemed to hang back for a while and she began to tremble, then suddenly it was upon her, and for the first time she cried out, "Oh God...oh God..." and she began to writhe in ecstasy as her orgasm moved to its climax.

Martin, his tongue circling her clitoris, had to hold on to her thighs to stay in contact. At her climax she was frantically clutching at his head as if fearful he would stop, but he didn't stop until her orgasm subsided and then ceased. 

Martin leaned back, his face, soaked with his mother's love juice, and moved her back to lie on the divan and Ashley in a voice that sounded as if it was far off said, "What have you done to me Martin...what have you done."

Martin, instantly troubled said, "What is it mother, did I hurt you, didn't you like it." 

Ashley laughed weakly and said. "Silly boy, don't you realise you took me through hell to heaven."

Again, like most men, the deep mystery that is woman escaped him. He failed to understand the agony and ecstasy of a massive female orgasm, but he understood a little of it when Ashley said, "Will you always take me there?"

He made the only response he understood, "Yes mother, always."

* * * * * * * *

Martin's own needs were now urgent and Ashley understood this and extending her arms to him she said, "Come in me my darling."

Martin lay over her and Ashley took hold of his penis and guided it into her. As Martin felt his penis becoming immersed in that wet, warm, clinging paradise that was his mother's vagina he groaned, and Ashley sighed, "Oh my boy, my darling boy."

There was something different, a sensation she had not experienced with Arthur. It was as if Martin's penis belonged in her and she wanted to posses it, and I doing so posses all of him. 

She felt the head of his penis touch the end of her tunnel and she clenched her vaginal muscle tightly round it as if she would suck the whole of her son into her. Martin groaned again and said, "I love you so much."

Ashley feeling as if she was being drawn into an all consuming haze of love responded, "I know darling.'

His penis still unmoving Martin kissed his mother, a long slow tongue searching kiss, while his hand fondled one of her breasts. When the kiss ended mother and son lay still, looking deep into each other's eyes and seeing there the love they had hoped to find.

Martin began to move in his mother, slowly at first as if to delay the inevitable orgasm and waiting for signs that his mother was ready for another orgasm. It couldn't last long. Martin began to move faster and more intensely in Ashley as she, feeling his rhythm, thrust against him. 

As if to warn her Martin cried out, "I'm coming...I'm coming...I can't hold it back...I..."

"Yes darling...yes...let it go...in me put it in me...where it belongs...in me..."

Putting one hand under her buttocks and the other at the base of her neck, Martin dragged his mother onto his penis, and with a cry of, "Oh mother," he unleashed his seed deep into her.

Ashley, feeling the pulsation of her son's penis as he ejaculated into her, gave a wild cry of mixed anguish and ecstasy and gave herself up to her orgasm. There were a few frenetic moments as they clung to each other, thrusting to get Martin's sperm ever deeper into his mother. 

The climatic moment came and then began to fade, first Martin, and then Ashley as she pleaded, "Don't stop darling...please don't stop...still coming."

Then it was over, or was it? There was a mixed feeling of contentment and yet a desire for more. Martin's penis was still in his mother's vagina and he showed no sign that he wanted to withdraw from her, nor did Ashley make any attempt to remove him. 

There was a sensation that neither of them had ever experienced before, the sense that they had become one flesh, they belonged to and with each other.

Perhaps what neither of them could have expressed verbally was that they had experienced that most beautiful and profoundly satisfying of all sexual couplings, that between a loving mother and son. What they also could not express in words was the knowledge that it was to this fountain of love they would always return to slake their sexual thirst.

Yes, they had come full circle and now the circle was closed, and Ashley, feeling her son's penis growing and hardening again inside her, knew he was about to once more fill her with his young seed. 

* * * * * * * *

The circle was closed, the deed done but not finished. Mother and son had no doubts about their future as lovers. Over the following week in Ashley's bed they copulated until they were finally, as dawn approached, exhausted and slept, usually facing each and still joined at the genitals.

The room was redolent of their love making and the bed marked with signs of their mingled fluids. But the bedroom was not the only place where they made love. Having discovered the wonder of mother and son sexual coupling they were unable to leave each other alone, whether vaginal penetration, fellatio, cunnilingus or mutual masturbation they had to give physical expression to their love. 

Bath, shower, kitchen table, divan and even the laundry room were the locales for their actions.

At the end of the first week the sexual intensity had calmed down a little and they could begin to take up what we call "normal life" to some extent. What did not fade was the love and devotion they had for each other, which was just as well because there were testing times ahead.

From the very first time Martin had put his seed into her Ashley had the distinct feeling that he'd fertilised her. That of course needed to be confirmed, first by a missed period and then a doctor's report. 

For all the love Ashley believed Martin felt for her, she wondered how he would feel about being the father of the child in her womb. But whether he stayed or fled from the responsibility he would leave something of himself behind, and Ashley knew she would not be alone again.



Full Circle



"I've been looking at your Facebook page," he said, "and I see that you're a crossdresser."

Involuntarily my head ducked forward and down. I could feel the blood rushing to my face. It positively tingled. I glanced over my shoulder and to my right. Fortunately, I discovered, all the surrounding booths were empty. No one had overheard. I breathed again. I felt the blood receding...

"I'm very proud of you for being so upfront about such a thing. It takes a lot of courage."

"Th-thanks," I stammered.

"You're a handsome young man," he smiled. "I bet you make a gorgeous woman."

I blushed again.

We were sitting in an aqua booth at a Denny's out by the regional airport, miles from campus. I'd met him there. He'd just polished off a platter of eggs and bacon and hashbrowns and a pancake stack—real healthy stuff. I was too nervous to eat. I was nursing a tepid orange juice. Now he held his china coffee cup with both hands a few inches from his lips. Behind it he was smiling. 

"I'd love to see you dressed," he half-whispered, in deference to the elderly couple being seated across from us. 

"You would?" I was now so nervous I didn't dare pick up the glass in front of me. My hand was shaking too badly.

"I would," he replied, his green eyes seeming to bore right into me. He sipped his coffee. "We could go back to my hotel room."

I swallowed. Salty saliva. "Um...I didn't bring anything with me," nodding at the backpack to my left on the aqua bench seat. "Um...," I repeated, heart thumping audibly—at least to my ears—against my ribcage. "My roommate's gone for the weekend. We could..."

"Are you and your roommate...?"

"We're just roommates."

"Is that OK with you then?"

I nodded, tersely.

"I'll follow you there then," he said, picking up the curled check. He held it out at arm's length, squinting. "I forgot to bring my reading glasses. Can you tell me...?"

I read the total for him from across the table and he left two dollar bills behind—cheap—and we went up to the register to pay. It was good, moments later, to reach the chill, if soggy, early Autumn air of upstate New York. A heavy mist was falling.

"I'll follow you," he repeated. "But if we get separated we have each other's number."

"Right."

"Don't leave me behind," he grinned from the open door of his rental Cadillac.

"No."

It was a winding, 15-minute drive from the restaurant to the Collegetown house I shared with another grad student. There was no driveway. We both parked uphill on the narrow street. The house could've been cleaner but—I wasn't expecting a guest. I asked him if I could have a little bit of time to get ready and he replied, patting my behind, "Sure, honey, take all the time you want. I'm not going anywhere."

So I headed to the bathroom and began my routine, my..."transition." First I "douched" myself with a disposable enema bottle. Then I climbed in the shower with lube and my dildo and "opened myself up." It was not so much that I expected to have sex with my guest as a case of these things helping to make me feel deeply feminine inside. As I say, it was part of the ritual. After touching my shaved body up with a razor I got out and dried off and immediately pulled on the pink lace panties I would pair with black bra and thigh-highs and my pair of pink "fuck me" slings. But that would come later. I sprayed between my legs and on my neck and even my feet a sweet, flowery cheap perfume and then began the careful task of applying eyeshadow—green like my eyes—and a magenta lipstick that would go well with my panties and shoes. Then I pulled on my platinum-blonde shoulderlength wig and combed it out. I finished dressing in the bedroom but returned to the bathroom to take one last critical look at my makeup and adjust my wig. Perfect, I thought, once again listening in the quiet to my heart banging my ribcage.

I opened the bedroom door and made my grand entrance. And he looked up from his magazine, smiled and exclaimed, "Goddamn."

He rose and came forward and said, "Look at you, you're gorgeous."

"Thank you," I said.

He put his hands on my pantied hips. Then let them slide down and behind over my ass, which he squeezed. He gave my little microfiber clutch of cock and balls a fondle, as well, before rising to my bra's empty cups.

"Too bad," he tittered.

"I know." By now, mainly owing to nervousness, I was giggly too.

"If you ever want a boob job," he said, hands back down to my lace waist, "I'll pay for it."

"You will?"

"I even know the doctor. Indianapolis."

Sorry but why would I want to get a boob job in fucking Indianapolis?

He put his arms around me. Pressed his lips to my lips. His tongue pushed inside my mouth. He tasted of coffee, and bacon. We necked. He gripped my ass and pressed my belly against his. I could feel it through his pants: his erection.

"Goddamn!" he said breathlessly, pulling free his lips. "I haven't been this hard in...twenty years!"

He pulled me forward to the chair he'd been sitting in while I was primping in the bathroom. I'd bought it at a yard sale—the tattered stuffed chair—for ten bucks. Now, before lowering himself to cushion's very edge, he dropped his pants.

And there it was, in all its seven-inch, circumcised glory, springing up at me. Instinctively I dropped to my knees on the hardwood—and slightly listing—floor. One of my slings came off. I took him in my mouth. I began sucking him. I fondled his big balls as I sucked. I deepthroated him. I gagged...

He said things like: "Oh god that's good...Suck me, honey...You do that so well...

"Is that the biggest cock you've ever had?"

Yes, I nodded. It was a lie but I nodded anyway. I sucked him so long my knees began to ache. I had this image of ragged holes wearing through the knees of my black stockings—and they weren't cheap, either. If I had know this I would've worn pantyhose. They cost a third of the price! I assumed he wanted to cum in my mouth but, just when my aching jaw was about to give out he, as breathless as I was, said, panted, "That's enough," and pushed my head back. I was relieved.

Not for long, however.

"Let's...go in the bedroom," he said. "I want to fuck you. Would you...like that?"

I nodded, meanwhile wiping my numb lips. Anything to give my poor mouth a break.

"Let's...go."

Both he and I staggered to our feet. As I led him to the bedroom his fingers played over my silky pink cheeks as if they were a keyboard, a harpsicord.

"I love this ass," he declared. "You have lube?"

"In the drawer," I pointed. "You want me like this?" I asked, climbing atop the comforter on all fours.

"I love you like that," he replied. "I don't...wear condoms by the way," looking down at drawer's box of Trojans.

"OK," I said. I hate to admit it but I was beyond caring.

"I'm healthy as a horse," he claimed, smearing lube over the arc of his cock. "Are you?"

I nodded. I was. Truly.

"Good."

Climbing behind me on his knees he quickly found socket and pushed in. His cock was perhaps halfway inside me when he asked, "You OK?"

"Fine," I replied, thankful for the dildo session in the shower earlier.

In two successive thrusts he pushed deeper and then in all the way. I cried out. Now—it hurt just a little. My mouth hung open.

"Give me...a minute OK?" I pleaded.

"Of course. Relax, baby," he said. "Take all the time you...need."

"I..."

"OH!"

"What?"

"I can't..."

"What's wrong?"

His hands were gripping the flesh of my slender hips. I could feel his coarse dark pubic hair pressed against my crack. He was all the way...in. His cock was throbbing. Shooting. "Oh!" he cried, again. He'd made me suck him too long. I didn't care. It was a unique sensation. He wasn't fucking me with his big cock. He was merely, uncontrollably, ejaculating inside me. He came and he came. And with each successive shot he cried out again.

Then he fell backwards, pulling out of me in one lubricated, sudden motion—and this too elicited a cry. I thought he might tumble over off the bed onto the room's carpet but he steadied himself, rotated clumsily and ended up sitting on bed's foot.

"You OK?" I asked, my once-dilated hole tightening around the load he'd just deposited inside me. I pulled my pink panties, down around my knees, back up. He was sitting, panting. I was now sitting, satisfied, beside him.

"Yeah," he replied. "Yeah. Clean me up."

"Yessir."

I leapt off the bed. I enjoyed this submissive role following anal sex. Bareback sex. Getting on my knees again and cleaning my partner's cock and balls and belly off with a warm wet washcloth. Wasn't this my role?

Afterwards, he rose, staggering, found his pants and boxers and pulled them back up.

"Fuck," he said. He seemed disturbed, distracted.

I, in contrast, felt a warm glow inside. I adjusted my wig. Vainly, I wondered how I looked at this improbable, spent moment.

"I...better get going," he said. "Got some things I've got to take care of..."

Care of? On a Saturday? In a college town a thousand miles from your home? You're a fucking VP of marketing for a moving company!

I followed him to the door in my smeary makeup, wig, bra, panties, hose and half-heels. He turned back. Gave my ass a perfunctory caress.

"You're beautiful," he said, without a smile. "You really are. I'm so proud of you. Want to...have dinner tonight? You choose the place? Carte blanche? Anything you want. Afterwards we'll..."

"OK," I replied. "Yessir."

"I'll pick you up at seven?"

"OK."

He turned back again. "You don't have to call me sir by the way. You can...if it's uncomfortable for you, darling, you can call me...Bart."

"Sure."

He left. Bart?

All I knew was that the man who'd been a virtual stranger to me for the first 20-plus years of my life had suddenly reappeared. And that the same seed that had conceived me was now buried deep in my ass. I closed and locked the front door feeling a warm glow inside. Life had come full circle.



Full Circle



Click Here for Audio Part 1.
Click Here for Audio Part 2.
Click Here for Audio Part 3.
Click Here for Audio Part 4.
Click Here for Audio Part 5.

* * * * *

Crack.

The twig snapped under her foot like a firecracker.

She stopped. Listening intently for sounds of pursuit. All was quiet. She hurried on. Why hadn't she listened to her friends and stayed in the States until the New Year. No, she'd wanted to surprise them. She was certainly going to do that. If only she hadn't gone back and found Richard in bed with that bitch Christy. No. It was better to know. The bastard. He'd fucked her as well that morning before she had left to catch her plane. If she hadn't realised she'd left a gift for the Wagstaffe's from her mother in the flat she wouldn't have needed to go back. The bastard. 

It was snowing again.

Another frozen twig snapped beneath her foot. With each step she took the Moon lit shadows before her moved and twisted and changed shape. Somebody was following her. She was certain of that. She broke into a clearing near the top of the hill. There were two tracks. One leading off to the right past a solitary old oak and the other down a steep path to some buildings. The tree looked familiar. One building at the bottom of the path had a single light in a downstairs window. That one would do. They would help her.

She ran to the front door, past a black Rover Metro parked on the drive to one side of the house. The snow was piling up against its side. Pressing the bell she banged with her hands in her panic. A light went on in the hall.

"Who's there?" A woman's voice asked through the door.

"Help me please."

"What's wrong?" The voice asked. 

"I've crashed my car and I heard on the local radio that a patient had escaped from the local secure hospital. This man stopped and he tried to get into my car and I'm sure he's followed me."

The door opened on a chain and an eye peered through the gap and looked her up and down.

"Are you alone?"

"Yes. Please hurry."

She heard the chain being lifted and the door was thrown open. Quickly she stepped inside and the woman closed and locked the door behind her.

"You look frozen. Come and sit down by the fire." The woman said showing her into a small living room with a roaring wood fire. "Let me take your coat. It's soaking wet."

It was warm in the room so she allowed the woman to remove her coat.

"I think you had best take your shoes and tights off." The woman said.

Looking down at her snow-covered feet and the trail of footprints she'd left from the door she stammered an apology.

"I'm sorry."

The woman stepped closer and placed an arm around her shoulders. She smelt fresh. As if she had just got out of the bath. There was another smell. She knew it but couldn't place it. She was wearing a quilted dressing gown that looked a size too big. 

"Don't be silly. My name is Rachel, by the way."

"Mine's Cleo. Cleopatra el McToomb."

"That's impressive." Rachel said picking up Cleo's shoes. 

"My father is an Egyptian."

"And your tights. I'll bring you some slippers. My partners should fit you."

He must be a small man. Cleo thought as she pulled off her wet tights and sat in a chair by the fire. She only took a size six in English sizes.

"Where is he. Your partner I mean?" Cleo asked.

"She." Rachel corrected, sitting down opposite. "Lesley. We only moved in this week and it being Christmas Eve she decided she would visit her parents tonight and get it over with for this year. With all this snow around I don't suppose she'll make it back up the road tonight."

"You didn't go?"

"They don't approve."

Cleo looked across at Rachel. What was she? Thirty-two, three. Three or four years older than herself? She was small. She couldn't have weighed more than seven stones. A lot less than her ten and a half. Well, her mother had turned into a big woman. Fortunately Egyptians like them like that. 

Cleo was conscious of Rachel studying her and suddenly felt uncomfortable. Automatically she pulled down on the hem of her skirt. She gave up the unequal battle. There was no way it was ever going to cover her knees.

"Can I use your phone? Please." Cleo asked. "I have some friends near here and I'm sure they would come and pick me up.

"I'm sorry." Came the reply. "As I said we only moved in this week and it's not connected yet. Where do your friends live?"

"Chipping Marsden."

"Oh yes. It's just around the hill. Which way did you come to get here?"

"Over the hill and down this steep path."

"If you had taken the other path, past the old oak, you'd come to Chipping Marsden. We had a walk up there a couple of days ago. You can walk down by the stream past this lovely cottage with a walled garden."

"That's where I want to go." Cleo almost swore. If only she'd taken the other route. Of course she knew the tree and the path. Ten minutes, five if she'd run would have taken her to the bridge over the stream. She had a key to the door and knew the alarm numbers if they weren't there. "That's where my friends live."

She could have stayed in their flat in London. Just a phone call from the Airport but, no. She had to take the hire car even though it had meant waiting for it for two hours. It was all Richard's fault. She could still see his cock pistoning in and out of that bitch. Hear the squelching sounds it made. Little wonder he wasn't giving her as much as he used too if he was servicing that cow as well. And that was why he didn't want to come with her on this visit.

"I don't think I know them. But then we haven't really met anybody yet."

"Paul and Jennifer Wagstaffe."

"I don't know him but I do her." Rachel smiled in memory. "She used to teach English in my school. She was always coming back from the holidays either in plaster or bandaged. It was because of her I decided to become a teacher. She interviewed me for the job I'm starting in the New Year. A lot of schools won't take you if they find out you are gay. She said she'd take me because I was the best person for the job. I told her my days of lusting after girls in Gymslips are long gone."

But not twenty-eight year old Doctors. Cleo thought catching the way Rachel was glancing in her direction and crossing and uncrossing her legs.

"That would be her."

"How do you know them? You're an American aren't you."

"They have been friends of my parents since before I was born." Paul had been a very good friend of my mother's, Cleo could have added.

"You certainly don't look Egyptian."

No. Cleo thought. But I did share the same womb and mother with a descendent of a Pharaoh. She'd asked that question herself when she'd been fourteen and on a visit to England. Her mother had always insisted that she have contact with the Wagstaffe's at least once every year and was forever sending copies of her first drawings and writings to them. She told her and Jenny had confirmed it that Paul was her father. He was probably the only person who didn't know. But from that time on her visits to England had taken on a new meaning. Something to look forward to.

"No. Strange that. My brother is exactly like our father."

Cleo gave Rachel a smile.

"Would you like something to drink?" Rachel said rising and pointing to the sideboard on which were a small selection of bottles and glasses. "I was going to stay up for another hour just in case Lesley does make it back. The kettle's not long boiled for coffee and I was going to sit up with a pot and a glass of Brandy."

Not for the first time Cleo was glad her mother had not allowed her to be brought up a Muslim like her brother. 

"Coffee and Brandy sound great. Can I switch your TV set on?" Cleo asked, indicating the set in the corner.

"I'm afraid it doesn't work properly yet. The receptions very poor in this valley and we have a man coming in the New Year to install a satellite system. We just use it for playing videos on."

"Don't you feel a bit frightened, on your own here?" Cleo asked, following Rachel in to the kitchen where she started to make the coffee.

"I wasn't." Rachel replied, spooning some instant coffee into a pot and switching the electric kettle back on. "Not until you arrived. We'll be safe here together."

Rachel reached out and squeezed Cleo's hand gently. Cleo felt herself tense, then relaxed. She shouldn't read something into everything. What if the man at her crashed car had been only trying to help her? Had she over-reacted when his hand had touched the door handle? He'd been carrying something long and black in his hand. She'd certainly taken him by surprise. Leaping out like that and kneeing him in the balls. At least outside the car she'd have room to move. If he'd smashed a window and got in she knew from many hours spent on the back eat of cars during her teens that few women could fight off a determined man in a confined space. Fortunately all her partners on the back seat had been Gentlemen-ish.

"Yes." Cleo said, realisation dawning upon her for the first time. "Yes. I suppose I will have to stay the night. If you'll have me."

"Love to. Have you stay, I mean."

Cleo sat down in her chair. Rachel set down the coffee and cups on a small round coffee table and collected the bottle of brandy and two glasses from the sideboard. She poured two sizeable measures Brandy and a cup of coffee each and sat in the armchair opposite.

"I'm sorry." Rachel looked up and smiled at her. "I didn't ask whether you took milk or sugar."

"Black is fine thank you." Cleo replied. "You say reception on the TV is bad but can you receive anything? Or do you have a radio?"

"Our radio alarm was broken in the move and the rest of our things won't be arriving until the New Year." She smiled again. "I'm afraid we just had to move in. We've only had a flat before."

"What does your partner do?" Cleo asked, sipping at her brandy and feeling the warmth spreading throughout her body.

"Lesley is joining a firm of Accountants in Taunton."

"Paul Wagstaffe has an Accountancy firm in Taunton."

"He must be one of the last of the Independents. Most have amalgamated over the years to save costs. Lesley is joining one of the large Internationals."

"I don't know. He does a lot of work in America." 

Especially recently. He'd been to Dallas four times this year to her knowledge alone.

Cleo took another sip of brandy. Almost before her glass had touched the table Rachel had topped it up unbidden.

It was warm in the room. Perhaps it was just a delayed reaction from the excitement of the chase over the hill but she felt very tired. She thought of her medical bag back in old Michael de Vane's surgery in Washington. There would have been something in there to keep her awake. 

Old Michael. She'd known him all her life. He'd guided her footsteps, as a father would have. Easing obstacles in her path. Helping her each step along the way to her chosen profession. It had been easy to want to follow her mother into the Medical profession. Having been brought up in a medical environment Michael had estimated that she had covered seventy percent of the course work needed to become a doctor before she started it. The hours she had spent listening to discussions and proposed treatments between members of the practice. How each member of the practice had been willing to take the time to explain what they considered before prescribing a course of treatment. All little nuggets stored away in an enquiring and eager mind.

She looked again at the Television set. Was there somebody out there who had followed her across the hills? Was he an escaped inpatient from a secure Hospital?

"Would you like me to switch the set on and see if we can pick up something." Rachel asked, as if she read her mind. "It is time for the local late news."

"Please."

Rachel stood up. One of her boobs was sticking out of the front of her dressing gown. It was small with a hard brown nipple. Should she point it out or not draw attention to the fact she had noticed? She kept quiet.

Rachel bent from the waist to switch on the TV pointing her small, round backside towards Cleo. She turned her head away. She shouldn't be looking. When she looked again Rachel was still twiddling with the tuning dial. Some of the material of her dressing gown had ridden up between her ass cheeks. Cleo felt an almost irresistible urge to reach out and pull it free.

Suddenly the set crackled into life and Rachel straightened and took a step backwards. The picture was cloudy with heavy black lines racing down the screen but the commentary could just be made out.

'Roberta Long, the inpatient from Tone Vale Hospital has still to be been found. She left the hospital late this afternoon by slipping out through the kitchen area whilst the staff were enjoying a pre-Christmas drink. A black Rover Metro, the property of one of the Nurses, was stolen around this time. Neither patient nor car has been seen. Miss Long is described as five feet three inches tall. Seven stones four pounds in weight with Mousy coloured hair and a pale complexion. Police ask the general public not to approach Miss Long if seen but to report to them.'

'The police have also issued a warning to motorists that due to the heavy snowfall forecast for this evening and night people should only make journeys that are absolutely necessary. Driving conditions are treacherous.'

Cleo could vouch for that. That bastard Richard. She'd even left her mobile phone on the hall table in her rush to get away from them.

Reception faded and Rachel bent forward to switch the set off. The dressing gown was still pushed up between the cheeks of her ass. Unconsciously Rachel reached behind her back and pulled it out.

"Sorry." She said, realising what she had done.

"That's alright." Cleo replied.

So, the escaped patient was a small woman. Rachel was a small woman. With mousy coloured hair. Rachel's was a chestnut brown. A black Rover Metro. There was a black Rover Metro parked outside.

She did know Jenny Wagstaffe though. She'd spoken with real affection in her voice. 

That smell. A smell from the hairdressing saloon. The smell of somebody who'd just coloured her hair.

Rachel reached forward and poured a little more Brandy into her glass. Cleo watched her lift her own glass to her lips and drink. 

"More coffee?" Rachel asked, leaning forward in her chair.

"I'm fine thank you." Cleo relied, picking up her cup. "I haven't finished this yet."

Started it, would be nearer the truth, she thought.

"Are you hungry at all?"

"No. I'm fine. Thank you."

"As you wish."

He couldn't be more friendly and caring. Cleo thought. Was that suspicious in itself? But she moved so easily around the house. She knew where everything was. She knew that the TV reception was poor. She could have tried the set before she'd arrived. Looked around the house to see what was there. Her hair was dyed. That wasn't a crime. But on Christmas Eve?

Cleo looked across at Rachel. She was smiling at her. Cleo smiled weakly back. That Bastard Richard. Finding him fucking that bitch like that had prevented her thinking clearly. How did she allow herself to end up in a situation like this? She found herself standing up and walking to the window. Pulling open the curtains slightly she looked out. The snow had stopped falling and the sky above was clear of clouds. The stars twinkled brighter then she could ever remember seeing them before. She could see the shadows cast by the bright moonshine over the clean, freshly fallen blanket of unbroken snow. She looked across to her right. Past the old barn towards the steep path down which she had come earlier. The snow was not unbroken in that direction and she gave an involuntary gasp. She could clearly see a set of footprints leading down the side of the building. She almost jumped out of her skin as Rachel moved silently to her side.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asked.

Cleo could feel the warmth of Rachel's body as she moved closer to her and looked out of the window following the direction of Cleo's eyes. She felt Rachel stiffen by her side and gasp.

Large snowflakes started to fall again as the light from the moon was suddenly cut off as if somebody had clicked a switch. It looked cold and dark out there.

The two women looked at each other.

"Somebody's out there."

Rachel could hardly speak the words.

"What should we do?" Cleo asked leaning her head against the cold windowpane and straining her ear to catch any sound from outside.

"I don't know." Rachel replied. Cleo looked at her. She did seem really worried. 

"How far is it to the nearest house?" Cleo asked. She should know. She remembered playing in the old barn when he was young. 

"Less than a mile away." Rachel replied moving closer.

Cleo found herself automatically placing an arm about her shoulders and saying soothingly.

"Don't worry. We'll be all right. After all there is two of us."

"Yes. And she is a small woman. She can't be any bigger than me. I almost thought it was me they were describing on the TV."

"But you don't have mousy hair."

"I do. I dyed it this evening as a surprise for Lesley when she gets home. She always said I'd make a good red head."

"She's right." Cleo found herself saying. "It suits you."

"If we go upstairs we can look out of the windows at the front and back of the house. We might see who's out there."

"Good idea." Cleo said, following Rachel from the room and up the narrow flight of stairs watching the movements of her buttocks beneath her dressing gown.

Stop it. Cleo admonished herself. It had been years since she had had anything like an affair with another woman. She and her long time friend Marty, the daughter of a practice member, had fooled around a bit at first. Feeling each other's boobs in play. Examining each other's pussy's during various stages of their development. Discussing what it would be like to have a boy touch them. To let him push his finger inside. To let them rub their clits until they came. Until, that is, the day when, in the room they were sharing at Marty's house, they had agreed to take turns playing the role of the boy. She couldn't remember who's idea it had been. It didn't matter anyway.

How nervous she had been yet how excited to feel Marty's lips so soft and moist. To rub then, to prod them, to spread them. To smell the heady aroma of an aroused female. And when Marty had placed her hands behind her head and pulled her face down towards her opening she hadn't resisted. It had felt so right at the time. Instinctively she knew exactly where to place her tongue. The places where she most liked her own fingers to explore. And when Marty had gone down on her. Such feelings and sensations as she had never dreamed of before. Again and again that first night they had played out their roles. Somehow acting the part of a male lover freed them both of any guilt. They weren't doing it. They were pretending to be somebody else.

They had always spent most weekends staying at each other's houses. Jut good friends. Now their friendship had taken on a new meaning. They would spend ages slowly bringing each other to a peak of pleasure. Taking their time. How different it was to be for both of them when they allowed boys into their lives. A quick fingering to open them up then the bulbous head of a cock at their openings.

"I said." 

Cleo shook her head to clear it of the image of Marty's bushy mound and rich pink slit.

"Sorry." Cleo realised they were in the main bedroom. A pretty room. A woman's room. "I was miles away."




Full Circle



"There are no footprints at the front of the building." Rachel said, staring out. "Let's try the spare bedroom."

Cleo followed behind Rachel into a smaller room filled with odds and ends of furniture and boxes. Some were opened and some still waiting to be unpacked. Cleo stood close behind Rachel and looked out over her shoulder. It looked as if there were two sets of footprints leading to the old barn. Cleo remembered a story Jenny had told her one evening over a bottle or two of wine about how her friend Linda had been brutally raped in that barn and how she had been molested herself. Jenny would never go back in there. She'd even tried to get Paul to buy the property and pull it down. It had been one of the few times Paul had not given in to her. He had said that just because something evil happens in a building it doesn't mean that the building is evil.

Two sets of tracks were heading in and both recent. Why no tracks out? Had it been summer then you could imagine two lovers sneaking inside. 

What was that coming from the rear of the building? Smoke.

"What do you keep in there?" Cleo asked.

"Nothing at the moment." Rachel replied. "It's full of old farm machinery and straw bales. Hey. It's on fire."

A they watched the smoke was increasing. A small dark figure left the building and glanced in their direction before heading towards the steep path. They waited for the expected second person to appear. 

Nobody came out.

"We've got to go and check there is nobody still in the Barn." Cleo said.

"But."

"We have to hurry."

They could both see the reddish glow building up inside the open door of the Barn.

"Come on." Cleo urged. "We have to check."

"Let me put some clothes on." Rachel said letting her robe drop to the floor and opening a drawer. 

How many backside had she seen, Cleo thought, and yet she had to look. High, tight and round. She could just make out the odd wisp of hair between her legs as she lifted one foot after the other into a pair of knickers and jeans. Rachel turned to face her as she pulled a jumper over her head. Her breasts were high and firm. Her nipples proud and erect.

"There," said Rachel, slipping her feet into a pair of closed toed shoes, "that didn't take long. Did you enjoy the view?"

"What?" Cleo stammered. "I didn't. I wasn't."

"Don't forget. I am a fully paid up member of the Lesbian fraternity. Besides there is a mirror on the back of the dressing table. Don't look so worried. I won't tell anybody."

Rachel smiled and slowly drew her fingers down the side of Cleo's face and down further still, over the mound of her breast. 

"But." Was all Cleo could think of to say as Rachel led the way down the stairs. Rachel hesitated at the back door for a moment and looked over her shoulder at Cleo.

"Do you think it's safe?"

"I'm sure the other person has gone, if that's what you mean."

Don't talk about it, she thought. We'll talk ourselves out of going.

"Alright." Rachel said, throwing the bolts, opening the door a crack and peering out.

Without another word she suddenly opened the door and, stepping outside, headed to the barn.

Cleo followed. It was fairly mild. That could mean more snow. Yes, large flakes were starting to fall. 

They both stopped at the door of the barn. Cleo could hear somebody moaning and looked inside. The building was filling with smoke and she could see some old straw bails mouldering at the back of the barn. Occasionally flames would leap up then die back as if they weren't yet in charge. Water was dripping from the roof. The groan again. 

A figure was lying on its face in the first stall. It was wearing a black coat with bright yellow markings.

"It's a policeman." Rachel said, coughing.

They knelt down on either side of the figure and turned him onto his back. Cleo could see a small trickle of blood running down in front of one ear. She followed it with her fingers until she came to a small lump under his hair. He moaned as she touched it.

"What?" He coughed, struggling to sit up.

"Are you able to move?" Cleo asked, the smoke was leaving an acid taste at the back of her throat. 

The Doctor in her said keep the patient still until you have ascertained the full extent of his injuries. Everything else inside her knew they had to get away from the fire and smoke and quickly.

"Help me stand." The Policeman said, holding out an arm.

With Rachel and Cleo on either side supporting him he staggered to his feet. He swayed a bit at first then allowed them to help him out of the barn into the suddenly cold night air. Cleo could feel 'goose bumps' popping out on her naked legs. At the back door to the house he asked them to stop and reaching inside his coat pulled out the combined speaker and microphone to his radio. They could hear a voice repeating over and over, "Four eight. Four eight. Come in. Are you receiving me? Four eight. Four eight. Come in please."

"This is four eight." The Policeman gasped into the handset. "I am at the old Watson farm. Somebody attacked me. Wait."

He turned to the two women.

"Did you see anybody?" He asked.

"Yes." Rachel replied. "We saw a figure running away from the barn towards the path up the hill."

"Hallo this is four eight." The policeman spoke again into his handset. "The suspect was seen heading towards Knowle Hill."

"Thank you four eight." The voice replied. "Do you require any assistance."

"There is a barn on fire. We need the fire brigade."

"Roger four eight."

Rachel had opened the door to the house and the policeman followed them into the kitchen. Cleo examined his head whilst Rachel made fresh coffee. The policeman kept looking out at the barn as if gauging the hold the fire had taken whilst telling them a little of Roberta Long and her love of starting fires. 

It was fifteen minutes before they heard the sounds of police sirens approaching in the distance. They all went to the front door and stepped outside. A procession of vehicles were coming slowly towards them headed by a yellow lorry with a snow plough fitted to the front and flashing orange lights followed by the more familiar blue and red lights of the police and fire brigade.

"You'd be waiting until this time next year for the council to send a lorry to clear away the snow on a road like this normally." Rachel observed ruefully. "It's amazing what having a policeman in your house can do."

The vehicles pulled up to a halt outside and the policeman reported to his Sergeant whilst the Fireman attacked the fire in the barn.

Cleo felt Rachel's hand on her hip and turned her head to look down into her face.

"You're not going to leave me here alone tonight, are you?" Rachel asked.

Cleo didn't answer. Now the question had been asked what should she say?

She stalled.

"I think we had better make some more coffee."

But she didn't remove Rachel's hand as they walked back into the house.

It was an hour before the fire chief announced he was happy that there was no further risk from the fire in the barn. An hour, during which word was received that Roberta Long had been apprehended in Chipping Marsden.

The policeman came back to the house as the firemen were packing up.

"We have somebody on the radio wanting to speak to you." He smiled at Cleo.

"Who is it?" Cleo asked, following him to the Land Rover.

"It's your friends the Wagstaffe's." 

Cleo took the offered handset from the policeman behind the steering wheel. 

"Hallo." She said into the mouthpiece.

"Hallo Cleo." A woman's voice answered. "We've been so worried. How are you? Shall we come and get you?"

"I'm fine, thanks Jenny." Cleo relied, she was suddenly conscious of Rachel standing by her side. This was it. Decision time. "No. Don't collect me. I'll spend the night here."

The words came out before she even had time to think them. Cleo felt Rachel move in closer, her hand rested on her hip then moved down to her ass cheek. It squeezed gently.

"The police found your hire car after a man reported being attacked by a woman." Jenny spoke quickly. "The police contacted Richard and he contacted us and we contacted the police. Well I must go. Paul sends his love. You are sure you'll be all right?"

"Yes. I'm sure. I'll see you in the morning."

The line went dead.

"Are you sure you don't want a lift somewhere?" The policeman asked, looking from one to the other.

"We will be fine." Rachel assured him.

They stood close together in the doorway and waved to the departing vehicles. Rachel closed the door and led Cleo by the hand to the foot of the stairs. 

"Time for bed." She said.

Cleo hesitated for a moment then followed Rachel up the stairs and into the front bedroom. Rachel switched on a bedside table light and pulled the curtains. Cleo stood still by the side of the bed arms dangling by her side. She didn't think she could move even if she wanted to.

Rachel stood in front of her and ran her fingers slowly and so lightly down the side of Cleo's face. Then down again. This time closing around her breast and squeezing it gently through her jumper, blouse and bra. Reaching up with her other hand Rachel placed it behind Cleo's head and pulled her mouth down, meeting her lips with her own. At first Cleo tensed then she slowly relaxed and allowed her lips to part to allow the entry of Rachel's tongue. She tensed again as Rachel's hand slid down her spine and cupped one of the cheeks of her ass. Then she moved it back up, pulling her jumper with it. As Rachel pulled her lips away Cleo lifted her arms above her head. Her jumper fell to the floor. Cleo looked down as Rachel' nimble fingers undid the buttons on her blouse and pushed it back, off her shoulders and down her arms. As it fell to the ground to join her jumper Rachel's fingers deftly released the clasp of Cleo's bra. As it joined the growing pile of her clothing Cleo reached out and lifted Rachel's jumper over her head. For a second they looked at each other's breasts then kissed again. Their breasts squashed flat with their hardening nipples pressing into one another. Without releasing their kiss their fingers fumbled with each other's skirt fastenings and knicker elastic until Cleo felt the soft, but wiry feeling of Rachel's pubic mound pressing against her own. Automatically their hands felt each other's ass cheeks. Pulling them apart then pushing them together. Cleo gasped out loud as Rachel's finger slid slowly between her ass cheeks and came to rest on her anus. She gasped again as it slowly explored each fold of skin around her tightly closed hole then moved further down until it just touched the start of her slit.

Cleo groaned her disappointment as Rachel released her and stepped back. Then Rachel turned and pulled open the covers on the bed.

"Come on." She said, taking Cleo's hand and sliding across into the middle of the bed. 

As Cleo lay on her back Rachel leaned over her, her nipples brushing her own and switched off the light. For a few second the darkness was total then the room lightened to the glow from the moon outside. Cleo could see the outline of Rachel's head above her and lifted her own until their lips touched. Tongues fencing and probing Cleo felt one of Rachel's hands close around her breast. Rachel lifted her mouth from Cleo's and lowered it to her nipple licking it gently with her tongue then sucking it between her lips.

Instinctively Cleo opened her legs and lifted her hips from the bed as Rachel released her nipple and moved slowly down her body. Running her fingers through Rachel's hair as she explored her navel with her tongue. Pulling her knees up to her breasts as Rachel moved between her legs. Crying out loud as her tongue entered her pussy.

Cleo found it hard to catch her breath as Rachel sucked on her pussy lips then pushed her tongue deep inside her again. Even harder to breathe when she moved to her clit and sucked it out from it's cover. Her entire body went rigid as her first orgasm ripped through her; it was quickly followed by a second then a third. Each one more intense than the last. Rachel licked and sucked on her clit gentler yet more insistently than anybody before, including Marty. Cleo peaked again as Rachel pushed first one then a second finger into her. 

Cleo collapsed back onto the pillows as Rachel moved away from her, pulling her fingers from her hole. She blinked as the bedside light on the far side of the bed was switched on and Rachel fumbled for something inside the bedside cupboard.

Cleo gasped out loud when she saw what she was holding in her hand as she turned back to face her. Amidst a tangled mass of straps and buckles she held a large black penis shaped dildo. Before she could lower and close her legs Rachel had moved to kneel between them and started to fit the straps around her waist and thighs.

Seeing the look on Cleo's face Rachel said.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you." 

Looking down at Cleo's open pussy she made some adjustments to the straps. When she was satisfied she moved forward. Cleo could feel the head of the dildo pressing against her pussy. Knocking at her door.

"Help me in." Rachel said brushing Cleo's lips with own. "Please."

Sensing a need she didn't understand in Rachel Cleo found herself reaching down between her legs and holding open her pussy lips as she guided the head of the dildo between them as she had done for Richard's cock less then twenty four hours earlier. She hadn't gasped for him as she did for Rachel as she thrust the dildo deep inside her. Rachel pulled back and thrust again and again forcing the breath from Cleo. She gasped again and wrapping her arms around Rachel's back lifted her hips from the bed to meet her thrusts. Thrusts that increased in pace. Cleo could feel herself building to another orgasm as she heard and felt Rachel come. 

"Don't stop." Cleo almost begged as Rachel paused to catch her own breath.

"I won't." Came the breathless reply.

Rachel started moving again. Long slow strokes, slowly building the tempo. Better then any man Cleo had ever had. Rachel knew when to slow to allow a wave of pleasure to run over her then to catch it at its peak and carry it on to the next wave. Cleo could hear the subtle changes in Rachel's breathing as she approached her own orgasm. Her own come seemed to trigger it as with a strangled cry Rachel collapsed forward on top of her the dildo still deep inside her. It seemed an age before either moved then Rachel pulled the dildo out of her and sat back on her heels and looked down onto her body. Her eyes travelled up to Cleo's face and they both smiled.

"I wish I'd been born with one of these." Rachel said, holding the base of the dildo and waving it from side to side.

"You could have been." Cleo replied, with feeling.

"Did you like it?"

"Yes." Cleo replied hesitantly then with more confidence as she realised that Rachel cared whether she actually had enjoyed it. She'd been asked the question before by men after they had fucked her but she had known they were more seeking re-assurance about their own performances then any genuine concern about her. She also realised that perhaps they weren't alone in wanting that. "It was great. Really good. I've never felt anything like it before."

Had she overdone the praise?

Rachel's smile as she lay down by her side, the dildo pressing against her thigh, told her it was worth it.

Rachel switched off the light and they held each other in silence. Watching the moonlight lighten the room then fade as a cloud obscured its face.

It was full daylight when Cleo next opened her eyes. Rachel had a finger inside her that she was gently swirling around. Cleo smiled. A lazy, half-asleep smile. She felt so warm, so comfortable. This was her favourite time with Richard. The long, slow early morning fuck. 

Cleo reached down for the dildo which was still fixed around Rachel waist and pulled her on top of her by it. Holding herself open she guided it inside her. Wrapping her arms and legs around Rachel as she moved it in and out. It felt so good. So right.

She could feel the pressure building inside her. Building with every movement Rachel made. She cried out gently as she came.

Rachel stopped and looked down at her face. They both smiled.

"You Bastard. You bitch."

Rachel leapt from the bed tearing the dildo from her hole.

In the doorway stood a woman. A very pretty woman. She was shaking with rage.

"It's not what you think Lesley." Rachel stammered the dildo, glistening with Cleo's lubricant, sticking out from her body.

"You Bastard. You Bitch." Lesley repeated. "So this is what happens every time I turn my back?"

Cleo recognised the words she used. She'd used the same ones the day before.



Full Circle



All characters in this story are 18 and older. I would like to thank l8bloom for her editing of this piece.

*

Sarah didn't know what woke her up. She didn't know if it was the bright flash or the sound of the sky tearing. For a brief moment, she saw the time on her clock, midnight, and then the red digits went blank.

Her heart pounded as she listened to the sound of the tree branches slamming against the side of the house. Storms terrified her; they always had. Even as a teenager, she would run for her parents' bed at the first sound of thunder, or the first flash of lightning.

Sarah slowly crept out of her bed, clutching the blanket to her chest. All of the lights in the neighborhood were out. It was completely pitch black out. She let out a scream when the skies lit up with a white hot flash. The loud explosion of thunder immediately followed. It shook the house, and rattled the windows.

The sound of breaking glass from downstairs caused Sarah to jump. She peered out the window and whispered, "Please, Pete, be up."

A yellowish glow showed from one of his downstairs windows. Her heart leapt. 

Blindly, she found her way back to her bed. A few seconds groping found what she was looking for, the flashlight on the nightstand. She breathed a sigh of relief as the white beam of light shot from its end. 

Down the stairs she ran, out the door and across the grass towards Pete's house. She didn't feel the driving rain soaking her. She pounded on his door.

The door swung open and Peter looked surprised to see Sarah shivering on his front steps.

"Sarah, what's the matter?" His voice was laced with concern. "Are you still afraid of storms?"

"Yes." Sarah nodded.

Pete opened the door wider and stepped back. "You'd better get in here." 

Sarah's thin nightgown was drenched and did very little to hide her breasts. Pete blushed as he stared at them for a moment. Her dark pink nipples jutted stiffly from behind the wet cloth. He turned and pointed to the hallway. "Go into the bathroom and take your wet things off. There are a couple of bathrobes hanging on the back of the door, help yourself to one."

"Thanks, Pete." Sarah suddenly realized she was soaked and began to shiver. 

He lit a candle and handed to her. "This might help."

After closing the bathroom door, Sarah blushed as she caught her reflection from the mirror. Not only did her hair make her look like a wet cat, but also her saturated nightgown left little to the imagination.

A crack of thunder made her forget her embarrassment. She pulled off her dripping gown and hung it over the shower rod. The bathrobe she put on was too big for her, but it felt good.

"I'm sorry to be such a bother," she said after leaving the bathroom.

He waved her off and laughed. "It's no problem. I had almost forgotten you didn't like storms."

Sarah shook her head. "Yeah, here I am, thirty-two and still afraid of thunder."

"Would you like something?" Pete asked. "With the power off about all I can offer is a glass of wine."

"I'd like that." Sarah began to calm down. Her heart had finally stopped racing.

Sarah sat down on the small loveseat in the living room. The house was as she remembered it, neat as a pin. 

As Pete returned from the kitchen carrying two glasses of wine, the lights flickered for a moment and then burst into life.

Pete laughed and handed Sarah a glass. "Well, dang it. I thought the atmosphere with just the candles was perfect."

She didn't realize how much she had missed Pete over the years. He had been her best friend growing up. More than a friend, they had been like brother and sister at times. He had always teased her in a good-natured way.

"Turn the lights out and leave the candles lit." Sarah took a sip of the wine.

"Are you sure?" Pete asked.

"Yes, it's not the dark that scares me. It's the lightning and thunder mainly."

Turning off the lights, Pete sat down beside Sarah. "Wanna watch a movie?"

Sarah smiled. "I'd love to."

The wine made her feel warm and fuzzy inside. She leaned against Pete and whispered, "Kind of makes me feel like we're kids again."

Pete nodded and put his arm around her shoulder. "Yeah, we spent a lot of nights like this, watching TV with mom."

---

The sun shone brightly in through the bedroom window. Sarah opened her eyes. It took her a moment to realize where she was. Pete must have carried her upstairs and put her in his mother's room. 

She was still wearing the bathrobe he had lent her. As she sat up, she noticed a note on the small table by the bed. It was Pete's scrawling handwriting; she smiled as she read it.

Sarah, the tree in your back yard broke your bathroom window. I've run down to the hardware store to pick up some stuff to fix it. The coffee is ready downstairs, help yourself. I shouldn't be gone very long. Pete.

The coffee tasted great. Sarah went out the back door and sat on the deck. Broken branches littered both back yards. Remnants from the storm. Sarah shivered for a moment as she remembered the force of the storm.

The sound of Pete's truck pulling up interrupted her thoughts. He stepped out of the truck and waved. She thought he needed a haircut; his tousled brown hair seemed to go in every direction.

"Good morning!" He smiled cheerily.

Sarah blushed. "Sorry for falling asleep."

"That's okay." His face lit up as he laughed. "Reminded me of when we were kids. And to be honest with you, I don't know who fell asleep first. I woke up, and carried you up to mom's room."

"I miss your mom." Sarah instantly wished she hadn't said it.

Pete's face changed. A sad look washed over it. "I miss her, too. First your parents, and then just over a month later, mom."

Sarah's parents had been killed on their way home from church just after New Year's. They had hit some black ice and skidded into the path of an oncoming truck. There was nothing the truck driver could have done; there had been no time for him to react. Her father had been killed instantly. Her mom had died several hours later in the hospital.

Pete's mother had succumbed to cancer almost five weeks later. 

Sarah's voice was soft. "When I was growing up, there were times I wished your mom was my mom. I loved my mother, but she seemed so distant most of the time."

"Yeah, and I wished your father was mine. Well, he was my father growing up. I miss seeing him. Talking to him." Pete's eyes got a little misty. "He did so much with me, taught me how to play baseball, how to fish. All the little things dads teach their sons."

The war in Vietnam had claimed Pete's father. His parents had only been married for a few weeks before shipping out. Pete's father had never knew his bride was pregnant. 

"I always wondered why your mother never remarried." Sarah looked at Pete. "She was so pretty and so young."

"I asked her a couple of times after coming home from the army," Pete recalled. "She always did the same thing, smile, and say there had never been time at first, and then when there was time, she was too set in her ways."

Pete eyed the mess in the back yard. "I suppose I should get at it. I'll fix your window first, and then I'll clear the mess the storm left."

"I should get home. I need to really start going through mom's and dad's stuff and decide what to do with it."

"Have you decided what you are going to do with the house?" Pete asked.

"I don't know. More and more I keep thinking about keeping the house and applying for a position here." Sarah gave Pete a small smile. "I like it here."

---

Thirty some years' worth of stuff. Her parents had lived in this house since before she was born. Start at the top and work her way down. That's what she decided to do.

Sarah was an only child. There had been another child, a boy. Allan. He hadn't made it through his first day. He had died in the hospital about twelve hours after being born. Tears formed in Sarah's eyes when she opened a small box containing the blank birth announcements. 

Sarah's mother had changed drastically after Allan's death. Pete's mom had told her stories. On rare occasions, her father would talk about it. Gone was the free spirited woman who had given birth to her. 

Sarah's mother had withdrawn and become a shadow of the woman her father married. Her church was all that mattered — a fundamentalist Christian church that only preached doom and gloom.

She removed one of the birth announcements and set it aside. The rest, she tossed into a garbage bag. At the back of the closet, she found a box of photo albums she had never seen. It was full of unknown faces and places. Little notes at the bottom of each picture did little to explain who the people were. 

One of the albums made her smile. It was her mother and father just after they were married. She recognized her father, but her mother looked so different. There was happiness in her face, a joy Sarah had never known.

---

Sarah turned the faucets. She loved this tub. It was very old, and stood on clawed feet. Foamy suds began forming from the generous amount of aromatic bubble bath she poured into the water.

It had been a busy day. It had taken most of the afternoon, but she had finished clearing out the spare room. Bags filled with things to give away to charity sat in the front hall and other bags full of trash were by the trashcans outside. 

Pete spent the morning and part of the afternoon replacing the broken glass in the bathroom window. His workmanship impressed Sarah. It was nearly impossible to tell the glass had been smashed and muntin bars broken. He had gathered up and disposed of all of the debris from the storm. 

Sarah pulled the comb from her shoulder length hair and shook it free. She smiled back at the reflection in the mirror. In keeping with her nightly routine, she thoroughly scrubbed her face before climbing into the tub.

Pete was ready for a shower. He felt pleased with all he had accomplished. Tomorrow was Sunday, the day he usually relaxed. He looked towards Sarah's house and wondered if she would be up for an afternoon barbeque tomorrow. 

The breeze that was blowing in felt good. Sarah decided against closing the window and pulling the blinds down. A row of tall hedges protected the window from view of neighbors. 

"Yeah," Pete said to himself as he closed the door on his tool shed. "A barbeque sounds good." He cut through his back yard and headed toward Sarah's back door.

Sarah lit the candles in the bathroom. She loved candles. One could never have too many. She turned the light off. The warm, soft glow from the flickering flames bathed the room. She whispered to herself as she removed her robe, "Perfect."

Pete froze in his tracks as he glanced at the bathroom window he had repaired. A large tree stood between him and the window. His hand rested against what was left of the tree branch, keeping him steady. He held his breath. Pete knew the right thing to do would be to just turn around and go home, but his feet wouldn't move. He could feel his heart pound as he watched her slip off her robe. 

He felt his erection growing as he stared at her nudity. Sarah had always been Sarah, the girl he had grown up with, his resolute friend throughout childhood. The swelling in his jeans embarrassed him. He shouldn't be having feelings like this about her. His eyes drank in her slender body. All of a sudden, he longed to reach out and touch her naked breasts.

Sarah slid into the tub. "That feels so good."

The warm water enveloped her body. All of the anxieties of the day melted away. Sarah smiled as she dangled her foot over the edge of the tub. It held special memories. This was where she had learned how to masturbate. It was the one room in the house where she had complete privacy as she grew up. She closed her eyes as her hand slid down in the water between her legs. Her other hand reached for her breast.

Pete couldn't remember the last time he blinked. The swelling in his jeans continued to the point where he felt uncomfortable. The urge to pull his zipper down and remove his erection was becoming overwhelming. His hand trembled as he watched her fondling her breast. 

Technically Sarah was a virgin. She hadn't engaged in intercourse with a man. The thin membrane, which normally signaled a female, was pure and untouched was long gone. It had been lost to a vibrator in her sophomore year in college. 

Her fingers teased her swollen clit. It had been too many days since she had touched herself like this. She still felt a bit guilty about masturbating in her room. She felt her mother would burst through the door and catch her. 

The night air felt cool on his erection. His hand grasped his swollen shaft and began to stroke it slowly. Pete watched as Sarah continued fondling her breasts. Occasionally he would catch a glimpse of an erect nipple through the suds. He had never seen Sarah like this. He would have never imagined this side of her existed.

With closed eyes, she let her fingers carry her away. Waves of pleasure flowed through her body. Her fingers rubbed her swollen clit in tight circles. Faster and faster they circled, her hips moving to her fingers. Both of her feet were propped against the end of the tub. 

"Oh, yes," she moaned softly as her body reacted to her fingers.

Pete worked his lust-swollen shaft. His eyes were transfixed on Sarah and on what she was doing. Gone were the feelings of guilt. All he felt now was an incredible lust for the girl in the tub. He had never seen a girl masturbate. Occasionally he had seen things in the videos he rented, but that was different.

Sarah was lost in her lust. She pushed her breast up, and leaned her head as far forward as it would go. Her tongue flicked out at her taut nipple, and then her lips began to suck on it. Faster and faster, her fingers rubbed her clit. She was getting close. As her teeth bit down lightly on the rubbery nipple, her climax began.

Pete's cock erupted as he watched Sarah sucking her own nipples. Long streams of white cum shot out into the darkness. His knees felt weak as his hand stroked his pulsing cock. His heart pounded and he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. The sounds of Sarah's moans carried out of the window. 

A warm rush took over her body, like a narcotic high. Her whole body shook as she moaned in pleasure. 

Pete slipped his deflating and wet cock into his jeans and he turned and headed for his house. Now that his lust had dissipated, what remained was a bit of guilt at what he had done. He felt he had invaded her privacy. 

Sarah thought she heard something. Her eyes snapped open and for the briefest of moments, she thought she saw a flash of blue. Had someone been watching her? She slipped deep into the tub. Blue. Pete had been wearing a blue t-shirt. Had Pete been watching her?

She remembered the flash of hunger in his eyes when he had looked at her breasts in her wet nightgown. Had Pete seen her masturbating? Her fingers began to work her clit furiously again as she thought of Pete watching her. Had he masturbated while watching her? She wanted to cum again. The wave of lust which overtook her, was completely unexpected. The resulting orgasm was one of the most intense she had ever experienced. 

Pete stripped out of his jeans and underwear. His cock was still wet with his cum as he got into the shower. He had never felt this way about Sarah before. He had never seen her as an object of sexual attraction. As the warm water from the shower hit his body, his cock began to grow.

His mind wandered back to the morning his mother had walked into his room and caught him masturbating. It had taken him a couple of hours to work up the nerve to leave his room and face his mother.

She had worn a serene expression when he walked into the kitchen. "Sit down, Peter. We need to have a talk."

His face had burned with embarrassment as he sat down at the table.

"There's nothing wrong with what you were doing. It's perfectly natural. Most people will deny they masturbate, but almost everyone does. That includes me." Her voice was full of caring. "The only thing I ask is you lock your door."

Shortly after their talk, issues of Playboy began to arrive in the mail in his name. 

Everyone does. The words echoed through his head. His hand stroked his soapy cock to another orgasm. 

---

Pete had knocked at her door. Sarah was grateful for the break. She had started clearing her mother's closet out. He had suggested they barbeque later in the afternoon, an idea she found appealing. 

Something had changed. Both Pete and Sarah could feel it. There was a tension between them. It wasn't an uncomfortable tension. It was more like a feeling of excitement. 

Sarah filled bags and bags with religious tracts her mother had saved for over twenty years. Her mother had been flooded with guilt over the death of the baby. "It's God's punishment for my wicked ways." Her mother's voice sounded in her mind.

School had helped Sarah understand her mother. The courses in psychology had explained a lot, and talking with her professors had helped her understand.

"Dad, she's depressed. Why don't you try to get her help?" She remembered saying that to her father.

His face held a sadness she had never witnessed before. "I know she's depressed, and I know there is help out there for her. Lord knows how many times I have tried to get her help. She believes God is punishing her and won't even go see or talk to her doctor about it. I've even talked to the preacher. His answer is that God will cure her when He is ready."

She had never liked Preacher Simmons. The way he had looked at her after she had gone through puberty had always made her feel nervous. It was a leering look, as if he was trying to see beneath her clothing. She shivered for a moment as she banished him from her mind.

---

"Come in," Pete responded to the rapping on his back door. 

Sarah walked into the kitchen and sat down on a chair. "Anything I can do to help?"

Pete shook his head. "Nope, I just put the chicken on the rotisserie and the baked potatoes are ready to go."

He washed his hands in the sink. "Do you want to go sit outside? Oh, and I made a pitcher of margaritas, if you would like one."

"I would love one. I could use one after going through mom's closet."

The afternoon was warm and the trees swayed lazily in the breeze.

Sarah laughed when she looked at the lawn chairs Pete had set out. "I had no idea these were still around."

Pete smiled proudly. "Yup, your dad gave them to me last year. I just scraped the twenty years of paint off and refinished them."

Sarah sat in the chair and took a sip of her margarita. "How many times did we do this when we were kids?"

"I think every Sunday that it wasn't raining or too cold." Pete smiled warmly. "We still did it occasionally after I came back from the army."

"I wish I would have come home more often." Sarah looked towards her house. "It was just hard to see mom..." Her voice trailed off. "I don't know if she was getting worse, or if I just wasn't used to it like I was growing up."

"I think it was a little of both. I know your dad was worried about her a lot. There were days where she just wouldn't get out of bed."

Sarah remembered the day of the funeral. A lot of it was a fog, but the one thing that was crystal clear in her mind was how calm and serene her mother looked. Tears began to form in her eyes. 

Pete could sense how Sarah felt. "Well, if we are to believe what they say in church, she's in a better place now."

Sarah reached over and put her hand on his. "Yes, that's what I keep telling myself."

Pete got up to check the chicken. He brushed some marinade on as the chicken slowly rotated over the grill.

"Can I ask you a question, Pete? A personal question."




Full Circle



He turned and shrugged his shoulders. "Sure."

"Why aren't you married?"

"Well, I could ask you the same question."

"Fair enough," Sarah replied. "I'll tell you after you tell me."

Pete sat back down. "The honest answer is, I don't know. I was gone in the army for four years. I had a couple of girlfriends, nothing serious. I got moved around a lot, so there was no real chance of meeting anyone." He took a sip of his margarita and continued. "When I came back here, most everyone I knew had either gotten married or, like you, had moved away. Am I boring you yet?"

"No. Please keep going."

"I had a couple of girlfriends for a bit after getting back, but nothing ever came out of any of it. Then I started my own business about five years ago. There never seemed to be time for trying to date. Then mom got sick about a year ago. It's like looking back and wondering where all the time went."

"I can understand that," Sarah answered. "So it was never that you didn't want to get married."

"No, not at all." Pete sipped his margarita. "Okay, your turn."

Sarah took a deep breath. "Well, I got closer than you did. I almost got married. I got engaged to a guy in my senior year, we were supposed to get married after I graduated."

"I remember mom saying something about you getting engaged."

"Well, it didn't last. I showed up at his apartment one day after class, unannounced. I caught him having sex with another girl on his sofa."

"Holy crap!" Pete exclaimed.

"Yeah, and after all his talk about remaining pure for each other. That devastated me. I broke up with him. I was so hurt. I felt so betrayed. I didn't go out with another guy for well over a year after that. And I guess like you, I got busy with my career."

Pete raised his glass. "Here's to us. What's that line in that Pink Floyd song? We're like two fish, swimming in a fish bowl, year after year."

Sarah laughed. "You know, that sounds appropriate."

The supper was a success. The chicken was delicious. Pete and Sarah sat in the back yard well after dark talking and laughing. Sarah couldn't remember feeling so happy in a long time. 

"Do you want some help cleaning up?" Sarah offered.

"No, there's not much to do." Pete shook his head.

"I know you need to be up early in the morning, and I need to get to bed. Another busy day ahead of me." Sarah sighed as she looked at the house.

"If you need any help, just call me." Pete offered.

Sarah looked at Pete and then stood on her tiptoes and kissed him softly on the cheek. "Thanks Pete." 

She turned, and began walking across the grass leaving Pete standing there in astonishment. She turned her head and called back to Pete, "Phone me when you get home."

Later in bed, Sarah wondered what it would be like to be held by Pete, the way lovers held each other.

Her hand slipped between her legs, and she began to touch herself. There was no guilt on this night.

---

Sarah set her coffee cup in the sink. She wasn't looking forward to cleaning out her father's closet. So much of what was in there was personal. She knew there would be a fortune hidden in his closet. Not a fortune of money or valuables, but a currency measured in memories.

It was harder to pack his clothes into bags for Goodwill. Everything seemed to hold a memory. She sat on the floor and held one of his old sweaters close to her face. The aroma of his aftershave still lingered on them. 

She laughed, tears rolling down her face, when she found his two suits. The grey was his Sunday suit, and the dark blue was his 'good' suit. In his words, the 'good' suit was for weddings, funerals and other solemn events.

His life was in this closet, that's what he used to tell her. He had built shelves in the back. Neatly stacked boxes lined the shelves. The first box made her smile. It was full of all of the cards she had made when she was in elementary school. She sat and looked at each one, trying to remember what she felt when she had made them.

One card looked odd — it didn't look like her work at all. She opened it up, and smiled. It was from Pete to her father. Her heart almost broke when she turned the little note over.

Uncle Frank,

I don't got a dad to give this card to. I would like to give it to you.

Peter Radcliffe

As she looked through the cards, she found several others from Pete to her father. Sarah set the box aside.

Many of the boxes held bank statements, tax returns and other legal looking documents. Those would have to be gone through carefully. 

Some of the boxes were stuffed with miscellaneous items. She had no idea what these things were and wondered if Pete could use any of it.

Finally, all that remained was the green steel box at the back of the closet. She remembered seeing it as a child, but had no memory of seeing what was inside. The latch was locked, but the key was in the lock. 

The box was nearly empty. Only a few folded letters lay in the bottom. She reached in, pulled out a letter, and began to read.

Dear Frank,

I got the note you left. Please don't be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing happened that I didn't want to happen. I wanted you to make love to me, Frank. I needed to feel like a woman again. 

Debbie

Sarah's jaw dropped. With a shaking hand, she selected another of the letters.

Dearest Frank,

I love you too. I just want you to know that I never expect anything from you, except what you are willing to give. I know you love Ellen, and I do as well. I would never do anything to hurt her or Sarah. 

I can never thank you enough for the time you spend with Peter. He looks up to you, and you are the father figure in his life. I can't think of a better man for him to look up to.

Love,

Debbie.

The other letters were similar in tone and content. 

Sarah didn't know what to think. Her emotions were confused. She couldn't believe her father had been Pete's mother's lover for all of those years. She felt hurt, and betrayed by her father. Questions ran through her head, questions with no answers. 

---

Pete was surprised to see Sarah sitting on his front steps when he pulled into his driveway. He parked his truck, picked his thermos and cooler off the seat, and walked around the house. His smile vanished when he saw the tear streaks on Sarah's face.

"What's wrong, Sarah?"

She looked up at Pete with a sad expression and handed him the bundle of letters. 

Pete felt his heart sink as soon as he read the first letter. "Oh, Sarah, I'm so sorry." He was overwhelmed by the urge to hold her in his arms and make her hurt go away. "Come inside, Sarah, and I'll tell you everything I know."

Sarah stood up and followed Pete into the house. He walked into the kitchen and put his thermos and cooler on the counter. She sat down on one of the kitchen chairs. "I don't understand, how could he─ they have done that."

Pete let out a long sigh as he rested his arms on the table. He looked at Sarah, wishing there were something he could do or say to take the hurt away.

"Mom didn't say much about the how, or why it began, and I didn't ask." Pete looked up at the ceiling, searching to find the right words.

"You knew?" Sarah couldn't believe her ears.

Pete nodded. "Two days before she passed away, that's when she told me. She made me swear not to say a word to you."

"How long did it go on for?" 

"I don't know for sure. From when we were young right up to the end I guess, over twenty-five years."

"It goes against everything he taught me. How he could have treated my mother like that?" Tears began pouring from her eyes.

"He loved your mother. I know that. He told me that many times." 

"Well, he had a funny way of showing it." Sarah wiped her tears. "I don't know if I want to keep that damned house now. It's a house full of lies and deceit."

Pete felt helpless. "I wish I could say something that would change it all around."

Sarah felt her anger burst. "You could have done something, anything! Surely you must have known my father was coming over here to..." Sarah stopped herself when she saw the hurt in Pete's eyes.

"No, I never knew or even suspected anything." He stood up from the table. "Wait here, I have something for you."

He returned with a letter in his hand. "This is for you. Mom gave it to me and said to only let you have it if you found out. I have no idea what is in there, I've never read it."

The envelope felt thick in her hand. The only word written on the white envelope was her name.

Suddenly, Sarah felt ashamed of her outburst at Pete. She mumbled a goodbye, walked out of his house, and returned to her own. She laid the envelope on the kitchen table and stared at it. Did she want to read words from the woman who her father had cheated with?

Sarah tried to sustain her anger at her father and Pete's mother. She feared that by reading the words, she might feel sympathetic towards them. Sarah suspected Pete felt that way. What was Pete? He was a man, and what was a man? A walking penis. That's all men thought about, their penises.

---

The morning sun streamed through her bedroom window. Sarah lay there, staring at the ceiling. She hadn't slept well, her night filled with fitful dreams of her father and mother.

Even the shower did nothing to improve her mood. She had planned to clean out the rest of her parents' bedroom. She took one look at the room, walked downstairs, and started the coffee pot. Her funk was still with her. For a moment, she wished her father were alive just so she could scream and yell at him.

The letter still sat on the table where she had left it. The urge to burn it without reading it had come to mind the previous evening. Nevertheless, she hadn't read it, and it still sat there, unopened and unread.

What excuse could she possibly give? What would her rationale be? Sarah stared at the letter. Finally, her curiosity got the better of her, so she picked up the letter and tore it open. It was dated the day after her parents' funeral.

Dear Sarah,

If you are reading this letter, then you already know about your father and me. I am dying, and do not have much time left. Even Peter has no idea how serious it is.

I wanted so much to talk to you after the funeral. There was so much more that I wanted to say. I wanted to tell you what a wonderful man your father was, and how I wished things had been different for your mother. 

Please don't be angry with Frank, hate me if you wish, but not your father. 

I'm not sure where to begin. 

When you and Peter were very young, your father would come over and help me work on the house. Your mother had gone downhill so fast. She shut him, and everyone else, out of her life and he was confused. We would often talk for hours. He loved your mother very deeply and didn't understand what had happened to her.

I was going to school, and working at the time. No boy at that time was interested in a young woman with a baby. Used goods. And there was never any time. If I wasn't at school, then I was working.

I had been married a total of seventeen days when my husband was sent off to Vietnam. He was killed in his second week of duty, before I even knew I was pregnant. A few months later, I realized I was pregnant. I was alone, and with a child on the way. Your parents were my support, as my family had pretty much disowned me for getting married without their blessing.

I'm not going to go into the details of our relationship, for I feel I would be betraying him. It started by accident, in a moment when we were both weakened by the stress of our lives.

After the baby died, your mother refused to have any sort of physical relationship with your father, yet he stood by her. He never gave up on her.

Our relationship was never sordid, it was one of love. Each gave the other what was missing in their lives. It made us stronger. Your father saw Peter as the son he never had, and I saw you as the daughter I never had. We saw the five of us, your mother included, as one family.

We loved each other deeply, Sarah. Your father's love for your mother never diminished. Not once in over twenty-five years did either of us discuss him leaving your mother.

I miss him so much right now. I know he would have made my last days brighter. He does live in my heart.

I hope this letter helps. Please forgive us for our weaknesses. Most of all, if you are angry with your father, please forgive him. 

Debbie.

PS. I will leave it up to you if you want to share the details of this letter with Peter.

Sarah set the letter on the table and stared out the window towards Pete's house. The letter wasn't what she expected. She had fully expected to be able to use its contents to fuel her anger. As she read the letter a second time, she felt her anger towards her father begin to wane.

Tears welled in her eyes. She hadn't been able to attend the funeral for Pete's mother. She hadn't been able to get the time off from her position at the school. Now, she regretted not coming even more. She wished she had been more forceful in her request for the time off. 

Debbie had been much like a mother to her. She remembered how Debbie had enjoyed having long girl-to-girl talks with her. Sarah began to cry as she remembered sitting on Debbie's bed, trying different shades of nail polish and laughing. Then, just before going home having to take it all off, because her mother didn't approve of nail polish. She said it came from Satan. 

The anger she felt towards her father vanished. A deep sadness overtook her. She tried to imagine what it must have been like for the two of them, sharing a love that couldn't be shared with anyone else. 

Pete's driveway lay vacant well after dark. Sarah wanted to apologize to him. Her outburst at him embarrassed her now. She fell asleep before he got home, and by the time she woke up, his house was dark. 

The next three days blurred together. She would get up in the morning and see his truck gone. She continued going through the house, deciding what to keep and what to give away. Each night his truck remained gone until after she had gone to bed.

---

Tap. Tap. Tap. Sarah's eyes opened. There it was again. Tap. Tap. It was coming from her window. She glanced at the clock and groaned. It read 6:04. Tap. Tap.

She opened the curtain and looked outside. Her heart leapt and a smile formed on her face. Sarah poked her head out the window and waved to Pete. "What on earth are you doing?"

Pete gave her a big grin. "I wanted to see if you wanted to go out for breakfast."

"Why didn't you just phone me?"

"This was a lot more fun. Like when we were kids."

"It's only six in the morning."

"We'll beat the rush and get a good seat."

Sarah found his mood infectious. "Okay, give me a few minutes to run a brush through my hair and throw something on."

"I'll be down here."

---

The café was busy with the morning breakfast crowd. Most of the patrons looked like they were involved in the construction trade. Some of the diners waved and greeted Pete by name.

Sarah didn't tell Pete, but she was relieved to find out his late nights and early mornings were because of a rush put on a job. The worry that he had found a woman had started to fester in her mind. She felt her face blush slightly when he told her about the job he had been doing.

After the waitress had taken their order, Pete looked at Sarah, "How is everything? I've been a bit worried about you. I wanted to come over and see you, but the job's had me going for about eighteen hours a day."

"Better. The letter helped. I still don't understand why, and probably never will. I'm not angry anymore. I don't condone what they did, but I can understand why it happened." Sarah shook her head in sadness. 

"Your dad used to tell me, you can only do what you can do with the cards you're dealt. You can't make aces out of eights." Pete took a sip of his coffee. "It took me a long time to fully understand what he meant."

Sarah paused and thought for a moment. "What do you think he meant?"

"You take what life gives you and do the best you can with it." Pete looked directly at Sarah. "Life dealt him a bum hand. He lost a baby and a wife at the same time. He did the best he could with what he had." He paused for a moment and took a drink of coffee.

"Same with my mom, she lost a husband and was left alone with a baby. I can't say for sure because I don't know, but I think they supported each other."

Sarah thought about what Pete had just said. It struck a chord inside of her. For the first time, she thought she understood the reason why.

"Do you have to work today?" Sarah asked as Pete drove them home.

"Nope. I finished the job I was doing, and I don't need to start the next one until Monday."

"Any plans for the day?" Sarah asked. She was hoping the answer was no; she could use Pete's and his truck's help.

"Not really, the only thing I was planning on doing was washing my truck."

"My car could use it, too." Sarah replied.

"Was there something you had in mind?"

"I was hoping I could borrow you and your truck to haul some of the stuff down to the Goodwill."

"Sure, we can do that this morning, wash the car, and truck this afternoon." Pete suggested.

Sarah liked the idea of spending the day with Pete. She found herself attracted to him. She no longer saw him as the boy that lived next door. 

---

Pete felt relieved Sarah was no longer angry over what had transpired between their parents. The thought of spending the day with Sarah appealed to him. Like her, he sensed a growing attraction between the two of them.

"That's the last of it. The rest is trash." Sarah was pleased with what the two of them had accomplished.

"Good!" Pete laughed and mimicked an aching back. "Between my mom and your parents, I don't think the three of them ever threw anything away."

"I know they didn't." Sarah agreed. "I think I found every piece of homework I ever brought home."

Pete looked at the back of his truck loaded down with bags full of clothes and other miscellaneous items. "I'll go drop this load off."

"I appreciate all of your help, Pete. I'll cook us supper tonight, okay?" She gave him a hopeful look.

"I'll hold you to that." Pete laughed as he got into his truck. He grinned at Sarah. "One thing a single guy never does is turn down a free meal." He paused for a moment. "Especially with a pretty girl."

Sarah felt her cheeks blush. As Pete backed out of the driveway, she yelled at him. "Flirt! Flattery will get you..." She felt her blush deepen and whispered. "...everywhere."

She watched his truck turn the corner before going back into the house. It felt like she had butterflies in her stomach as she walked into the house. She sat in the kitchen, trying to decide what Pete would enjoy.

Sarah looked in the freezer and smiled. "Perfect." She checked the pantry and the cabinets to make sure all of the necessary ingredients were on hand. 

A rapping at her back door caused her to look up from her cookbook. She smiled as Pete poked his head in the door.

"Hey, pull your car over into my driveway and we'll wash both vehicles."

"Okay, I'll be right out." Sarah closed the cookbook and retrieved her keys from her purse. 

Pete had a big bucket full of sudsy water ready, along with sponges and old towels. "We'll do your car first."

The dirt seemed to melt off her car as he sprayed it with hose. They attacked it with sponges, and then hosed the car off. The giggles and laughter began when they started flicking suds at each other. 

It escalated when Pete sprayed Sarah with the hose. "It was an accident." His words said one thing, but the laughter in his eyes gave away his true intention.

"I'll get you." Sarah laughed as the soggy sponge she lobbed caught Pete on the side of the head.




Full Circle



"Oh, now that's low." Pete laughed as he went for the bucket.

Sarah's eyes widened. "Oh, no, you wouldn't. Pete, you wouldn't."

Pete dropped the hose and shook his head innocently. "Me? How can you think such a thing?"

Sarah edged her way around the car as Pete picked up the bucket. He circled around behind her.

"You put that bucket down! Right now!" Sarah tried to sound serious, but a fit of giggling took over. 

Pete rushed her and threw the water from the bucket at Sarah. She ducked and avoided most of the soapy water. She picked up the hose and caught Pete square in the crotch of his shorts with a stream of water.

"Oh, Petey. Did you have an accident?" Sarah's giggle had turned into full laughter, and tears ran from her eyes.

"Oh, you're going to get it now!" Pete laughed as he moved towards Sarah.

"No!" Sarah squealed. She squirted him once more with the hose before dropping it and running across the grass.

Laughing as she ran, Sarah could hear Pete right behind her. Her foot slipped on the wet grass as she tried to cut hard right. They ended up tumbling into a heap on the grass. Pete's arms were around her as they laughed. Their eyes locked and they both got quiet.

Pete moved his lips to Sarah's and kissed her. Her eyes opened wide momentarily in shock. 

He pulled away from the kiss as he felt her body tense, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

"No." Sarah shook her head. "It's okay. Kiss me again, I want you to."

---

Sarah set the table. She lit the two candles, which stood in the center of the table. It looked exactly how she wanted it to. A quick glance at the clock told her Pete would be here at any moment. The lasagna had just come out of the oven. 

She checked her makeup in the mirror once more, and adjusted her hair. A blush formed on her cheeks. She felt like a schoolgirl primping for the boy. They had laid on the grass kissing. Sarah had been glad when his tongue had slipped through her lips. The familiar ache and warming had formed deep inside of her. 

For a few moments on the grass, she would have let him take her right there. A nervous excitement grew inside of her tonight. Would there be a repeat tonight? Or had this afternoon been just an accident 

The ringing of the doorbell interrupted her thoughts. Sarah opened the door and was impressed at the man standing there. In one hand, he held a dozen roses, and in the other, two bottles of wine.

"Come in." Sarah smiled. She was glad now she had opted to wear her black dress. Pete was wearing a pair of dark grey pants, grey sweater, and a grey tweed jacket. "You look very nice, Pete."

Pete gazed at Sarah. Her dress fit her perfectly, the material following her curves and clinging in all the right spots. "You look..." he smiled into Sarah's eyes. "Like the most beautiful woman in the world."

Sarah blushed. "Thank you, Pete." 

She took the roses from his hand and pointed to the two bottles of wine. She smiled as she raised her eyebrows. "Planning on trying to get me drunk and taking advantage of me tonight?" 

Pete blushed as he stammered. "N-n-no. I wasn't sure what you were cooking, so I brought a bottle of red and a bottle of white."

Sarah was surprised at what she had just said. "If you want, open the red, the corkscrew is in the drawer. We're having lasagna."

"This is really nice," Pete commented as he sat down. 

"Thanks," Sarah beamed at the compliment. "I wanted to thank you for all the help you've been. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"You're welcome." Pete took a bite of the lasagna. "That's really good."

Sarah gave him a warm smile. "Thanks. I really love to cook. It's tough cooking for one."

"You can cook for me anytime." Pete shot Sarah a warm smile as took another bite. 

They consumed the bottle of red, and half the bottle of white with dinner. The two of them sat on the couch, happy with life, and slightly giddy from the wine. A cool summer breeze wafted through the open windows, bringing the sweet scent of lilacs into the house.

A silence fell over of them as they listened to the soft music from Sarah's father's old stereo.

Sarah could feel a ticklish, tingly feeling in her stomach. There was something between them. She thought that because this was her house, she might have to make the first move. Summoning all of her courage, she took Pete's hand in hers. "About this afternoon."

"I know, I've been meaning to apologize." Pete's voice was quiet and he cast his eyes downward.

"No." Sarah took his hand and placed it on her breast. "I'm glad it happened and I want you to kiss me again."

Pete liked how her breast felt in the palm of his hand. He was surprised when he realized she wasn't wearing a bra. He leaned towards her and their lips brushed. 

Sarah's mouth opened slightly as his tongue slipped over her lips. Their mouths began to move as their lips pressed tightly against the others. Pete's hand gently fondled her breast through the dress while Sarah's fingers ran through his hair.

Sarah felt her pulse quicken with the kiss. She liked the touch of his hand on her breast, firm, but gentle at the same time. A moan escaped from her lips as his mouth traveled to her neck.

Pete's fingers found her nipple trying to poke through the black material. The tips of his fingers stroked her taut nub in slow and gentle motions. 

Since the broken engagement and subsequent graduation from college, Sarah had been involved in only a few relationships. Her unwillingness to fully consummate the sex act hadn't been an issue, especially after the men found out she was willing to use her skillful hands, and on occasion, her mouth to give them release. It wasn't that she was saving herself for marriage, a prospect which seemed to be less likely with each passing year. It was that she had been willing to give herself totally to the guy she had been engaged to, and had been betrayed. 

Their kisses deepened. Pete's hands roamed over her dress, his fingers mapping her body. 

Sarah liked his touch. There was a firmness to it she found exciting, and at the same time, a gentleness she found sensual. Sarah caressed his thigh, moving slowly towards his hip.

When her fingers grazed the bulge in his pants, he released a soft moan. 

Sarah stopped his advance when he he began to reach under her dress and between her legs. "No, Pete, please..."

Pete looked confused. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." He was embarrassed. Inwardly he was kicking himself for moving too fast.

"No, Pete, you don't understand. I don't want it to be here." Sarah's hand caressed his cheek. She looked deep into his eyes. "I want to go upstairs. I want you in bed with me."

He kissed her on the cheek and whispered, "I'd like that."

After blowing the candles out, Sarah led Pete upstairs to her bedroom. There, she lit a single candle. A dim yellow glow made the room soft and warm.

Sarah slipped his jacket from his shoulders and hung it on a chair. Pete watched as she began to unbutton his shirt. He couldn't feel her fingers trembling with nervous excitement as she undid one button after another. 

She unfastened his belt. She held her breath as she undid the button at the top of his pants and then unzipped his fly. His erection ballooned inside his underwear. Her hand slipped in and wrapped around his stiff manhood.

"You might want to take your boots off." Her whisper was husky. The sexual excitement was building in her. The warm dampness she had felt downstairs had given way to a hot wetness.

She watched as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled one boot off, and then the other. Pete stuffed his socks into one of the boots. He stood up, and slipped his shirt off. Sarah took it and held onto it as he removed his pants. 

Pete liked the feeling of her eyes on him as he removed his clothing. She took his pants from him, but her eyes were locked on the bulge in his underwear. He hooked his thumbs into the elastic waistband and removed them. He stood, his swollen cock pointing towards Sarah. 

She smiled, and presented her back. "Unzip me."

He stepped forward, his fingers shaking as he took hold of the zipper and pulled it down. Sarah turned around and let the dress drop from her body. She liked the excitement in eyes as he drank in her near naked body. As she pulled her panties down, she looked at Pete. "You saw me naked the other night, didn't you? When I was in the tub."

Pete's face turned red, and he tried to say something, but no words would come out.

"That's okay." Sarah's excitement grew at thought of what she was going to say next. "It turned me on knowing you were watching me."

She took a step towards Pete, wrapped her hand around his erect organ, and began to slowly stroke it. "I hope it turned you on."

All Pete could do was nod. 

Sarah liked how his cock felt in her hand. She looked down at it. In the dim glow of the candle, she could see the plum-like tip glisten with his excitement. She was tempted to get down on her knees and take him into her mouth, but decided to save that for another time.

She motioned to the bed. "Should we get in?"

"Yes." Pete nodded.

The crisp, clean sheets felt cool on Sarah's body as she slid between them. 

Pete's hand fondled her naked breast. "You're so beautiful."

Sarah felt her cheeks blush. "Thank you."

As his lips moved to her mouth, his hand moved over her belly. Her legs opened to grant him access to her most private spot. When his finger found the waiting wetness, she whispered, "Touch me, Pete." 

Pete's finger glided between her creamy lips while she rubbed the underside of his stiff cock with the palm of her hand. As their mouths met, their tongues snaked out and danced with the other.

Sarah held her breath as Pete's finger slipped where few had gone before. She felt none of the tenseness she had experienced in the past. She welcomed his finger as it slid inside of her. Her hips responded to his touch.

A quiet moan of pleasure escaped from Pete as he felt Sarah's fingers wrap around his stiff shaft. He looked down and watched Sarah's hand slide up and down his erection.

"Do you like that?" Sarah looked into his eyes as her hand continued to pump up and down.

Pete sucked in a deep breath. "Yes. It feels so good."

Sarah didn't know if Pete was doing it on purpose, or by accident. It didn't matter. It felt good. As his finger slid in and out, his knuckle was rubbing on her clit. The movements of her hips were becoming more pronounced and her grip had tightened on his shaft.

"I want you, Pete." Her voice was husky and full of want.

"I want you, too," Pete responded, his voice heavy with lust.

"Now, Pete. Please?" 

She released her grip on his cock and drew her knees up.

Pete paused, "I forgot to bring a condom."

"Just pull out before you ..." She was too embarrassed to say cum.

He just nodded and put the tip of his cock at her entrance. As he leaned forward, his cock began to penetrate her.

It was the moment which Sarah had been anticipating and dreading. She closed her eyes as she felt his erection slip inside of her. It felt different, but in a good way. For some reason she had imagined it would feel like one of her toys. It was warmer, it felt alive inside of her. 

Her hands wrapped around his waist as she welcomed his cock moving deeper and deeper. Her face glowed with warmth as she looked into Pete's eyes. She saw her own radiant happiness reflected in his.

She met his thrusts with her own, her hips rising up to meet his. The feeling of his warm, stiff cock filling her was better than she expected. Pete was resting his weight on his hands, which were planted beside her shoulders. She could look down and see his cock, glistening with her juices, pump in and out of her pussy. 

When he leaned a bit more forward, the top of his shaft rubbed back and forth along her swollen clit, sending waves of pleasure flowing through her body. 

"Feels so good, god, you feel so good, Pete." Her eyes were half closed as she ran her nails over his back.

Pete loved the feeling of her fingernails clawing at his back. It spurred him to increase both the intensity and frequency of his thrusts.

"God, yes, Pete. Fuck me. You're going to make me cum." There was no hesitancy now in her voice. She was deep in the fog of lust and wanted him to make her climax.

Spurred on by her words, he began to drive harder and faster. "Cum for me Sarah, I want you to cum."

"Y-y-es!" Sarah cried out as her body began to shake. 

Pete felt her pussy gripping his cock like a thousand little fingers. He closed his eyes, trying to hold back the inevitable. As he pulled his cock from her pussy, he looked into Sarah's eyes. "I'm going to cum."

Pete was surprised to feel her hand shoot out and begin to jack his cock in rapid, tight strokes. He looked down and watched her hand stroking him. Pete moaned as he saw the first long, pearly white stream of cum shoot from the tip of his cock. 

Sarah felt the wet warmth of his cum splash on her body. Over and over, it landed on her arm, and belly. Her eyes were watching his as he rode the wave of his orgasm.

"Do you want me to go get something so you can clean yourself up?" Pete half whispered.

Sarah shook her head and pulled him down on her. "No, not yet, I just want you to hold me."

His arms felt comforting wrapped around her body. She kissed his cheek softly. Pete was her first, but she wasn't going to tell him, at least not yet. This felt too special right now to share.

Pete's fingers played with her hair. "I wonder if this is what it was like for mom and your dad."

"I was just wondering the same thing. It's as if it's all come full circle."

---

Almost a week had passed since the night they first made love. They sat in the chairs which Sarah's dad had made, enjoying the summer evening, holding hands and talking. 

"I got a letter today from the school I was teaching at." Sarah watched the last of the orange disappear from the evening sky.

"Oh?" Pete felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He felt he had found the person he wanted to share his life with. He was in love with Sarah. 

"It's about my position." Sarah turned and looked at Pete.

He was calculating how long it would take him to drive to see her. He smiled and squeezed her hand, not really wanting to hear what the letter had to say, at least not right now.

"Pete," Sarah waited until he looked into her eyes. "They've accepted my letter of resignation."

It took a minute for it to register. "Does that mean you're going to stay?"

Sarah nodded. "Yes. I've applied for a couple of teaching positions here."

Pete's face broke into a wide grin.

"I'm going to need your help with the house."

"I'd be more than happy to help you."

"I want to remodel the upstairs, I want to turn mom and dad's room and the spare room into a studio where I can paint. Maybe turn the downstairs into a gallery."

Pete nodded. "Well, winter is my slow season."

Sarah giggled and moved from her chair and sat in Pete's lap. "I might need a place to stay for the winter." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips.

"Be careful, kiss me like that again and I might tell you I love you." Pete whispered.

Sarah kissed him again. Pete didn't see the small tear which had formed in one eye. "I love you, Pete. Somehow I think I've always loved you."