2 comments/ 26492 views/ 1 favorites Mirage By: blueraincoat520 The rhythmic fidgeting roused Adam from his sleep. Curious what was going on, he opened his eyes to see a strange woman straddling him with her back to him. She had long dark brown hair covering most of her otherwise naked body. She seemed uninterested in him as she fidgeted away, very quickly jostling up and down on him. Now fully awake, he could see her left arm making some kind of quick movements back and forth. He could not quite believe it, but he was watching her getting herself off as she aroused him. His cock quickly noticed the attention being given it, and as it became erect, her position over him, kept it from bending toward him. She simply stopped for a moment, rose on her knees to insert his cock in her, and then continued with her quick, jostling movements. Adam, wasn't quite sure what to do, but he hardly thought he should interrupt her. The strange was woman was occasionally letting out soft moans as she massaged her clit. It was mesmerizing to listen to, but the view was even better. She had dark olive skin and her thin waist accentuated her prominent hips and ass. Adam tried to catch a glimpse of one breast on the side of her turned slightly toward him, but could only see the smooth skin of her side. As she jostled Adam she seemed to be getting more aroused and her moans grew louder and more forceful. The whole scene felt surreal. Adam was married, and happily so. But this was not his wife on top of him, grinding away at his prick, and so obviously enjoying herself. It's not normal to be woken up by a strange woman using you as her sex toy, but it's even more weird when she is someone you don't even know. She leaned forward as she picked up the pace of her rapid back and forth movements on his cock. It felt so incredibly good that he was having a hard time understanding what was going on. She sat back up and fondled his balls, which were now drawn up tightly to his cock. He moved his legs to give her better access. "I'm glad you're awake." she said, in response to his movement. She lightly raked his balls with her fingernails and began grinding herself harder into his pelvis. He was enjoying her movements but he could tell that she was mainly focused on how he felt inside of her. She would occasionally move and lean forward feeling for just the right spot for his cock to hit as she rythmically moved above him. His cock had never felt harder, and he cocked one arm behind his head as he watched her shapely ass jiggle and bounce with her movements. She leaned forward again and the indents above her buttocks disappeared. Adam could make out the tight puckering of her asshole and he imagined playing with it. She was jiggling again and he could see her arm moving rapidly. He tried to move under her, but was only getting enough motion to keep him extremely aroused. Her movements were becoming frantic now and she was groaning so loud he could tell she did not have long. He desperately tried to fuck her from underneath, but that only seemed to speed her orgasm. "Yess. Oooh. God! Yes!" Her exclamations were the final straw. She slammed down on him repeatedly and then slowly stopped. Adam was completely frustrated now. She seemed to be completely oblivious and as she came to a complete stop, Adam felt himself suddenly slipping back into a light sleep. "That was good, Adam." He heard her say, but he was too far gone to respond. -- Adam opened his eyes and saw the familiar sight of his wife's back, in her nightshirt next to him. He reached out for her and grabbed hold of her hip. She didn't move. Still asleep. He reached around and grazed her stomach with his hand and on up to caress her left breast. She grumbler and rolled onto her back. "What is it?" she mumbled. Her tone suggested she still had not woken up. "Nothing." Adam said and kept up his groping. "I'm just going to have my way with you." He moved down to her thighs and stroked the soft skin there with the back of his fingers. "Go ahead, just don't bother me." She said and moved her arms to above her head. "Ha, ha." Adam said, pretending to be unamused. He knew she liked this. He began rubbing the folds of her pussy through her panties and she squirmed underneath him. He quickly got rid of the underwear as well as his own boxers, and climbed between her legs. He could feel that she was wet. As quickly as he could he guided his cock to her and pushed inside her. God! That felt good. Adam was not gentle and Eva seemed to be more accommodating than actually enjoying it. Annoyed, he pulled out and told her to get on her knees. "Adam, take it slow, I'm still waking up.", she said groggily. "I know", he conceded "but you feel so good, baby." He really just wanted to use her body. He pushed his cock into her folds and grabbed her hips to hold her in place as he pushed hard into her. He grunted loudly as he bottomed out on her. The whole situation made him want to berate her as he fucked her as well. She started moaning as he pumped in and out of her and he didn't let it go. "That's it. You fuckin' slut. You really like it hard, don't you?" She groaned in response and went down on her elbows. The increased pressure on Adam's cock caused him to stop short. "I didn't hear you, bitch. Tell me how much you're enjoying it. I want to hear you." Eva was not naturally vocal. He knew he was pushing her, but enjoyed the feeling of power. "Mmm. That feels good, Adam. . . Don't stop!" she pleaded with him. He could tell she was enjoying this, even if she was hesitant to talk dirty. "Don't stop what, slut? What do you want?" He increased his force, pounding into her rhythmically, with a slapping sound for each stroke. "I want you, mmgh, Adam, grmmph, Fuck me, please! Oh shit!, Mmm. I love your cock!" She was getting close, and her egging Adam on had him right on the edge. "All right, you cum hungry slut. I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll be walking funny tomorrow. Is that what you want?". "Fuck me, Adam, God! Harder!" She had overtook him in her arousal. She was now pushing back at him with each stroke, getting increasingly dirty as she did so. "Fuck my pussy, Adam, God! Make it hurt Yes! Oh! Don't stop! Unhh!" Her urging him on degenerated into groans and grunts as she clearly started an orgasm. She let out a loud scream and pushed back against Adam so hard he almost fell backward. Her orgasm was longer nad forceful, but as Adam pounded her to her obvious satisfaction, he still couldn't quite cum himself. "Dammit!" he thought and pulled out of her. She collapsed on her side, obviously thinking he had cum when she had. "Fuck, that was good, honey. You can wake me anytime you want." Adam just grunted in response. Frustrated, Adam stood up and went into the bathroom. He turned on the shower and stared into the mirror. His face was flushed from the exertion. He pulled down the skin under his eyes and noticed how red his eyes were. "I need more sleep. " he thought to himself, and stepped into the shower. It still hadn't warmed up, but he welcomed the cool water, which almost eased the ache of his still-hard cock. Almost, but as the water ran over the back of his neck and down his back, he realized he was still thinking about the strange woman from his dreams. "Cold showers are useless!" he thought and finished up quickly to make sure he would not be late for work. Sitting at his desk, he was finally able to concentrate. He was working out the details of estimating allowable loads on a particularly long bridge. Thankfully, the effort required to work through the calculations allowed him to forget the morning. He was still visualizing the model as he looked to his right. His cubicle was outside a small meeting room, where four people, three middle-aged men and a younger women were gathered around some large drawings. The woman had her back to him and was leaning over the desk, examining some large drawings. Her legs were crossed, accentuating her the round shape of her hips. She had a tight black skirt on that came to her knees. With her bent over, he could see every curve of her ass. "She either has a G string, or she's not wearing any panties." Adam thought to himself. The thoughts he had worked so hard to bury, came rushing back, and he could feel his cock stir. He strained to see more of her. She had a white light blouse of some sort, and thick, dark brown hair, tied back in a bun. He could see her slightly from one side, and noticed, that she had at least some bust to her. "Very nice." he thought, "Iwhat curves! The view he had of her felt like his own private show. Suddenly she turned her head and caught him staring. Adam froze. It was obvious what he had been doing, he tried to look down, but then quickly looked back up and into her face, as if to say he was interested in her, not just ogling her ass. She simply gave a half smile and continued on with their discussion. A chill ran down Adam's shoulders and through his shoulders. The woman at the desk was the same woman from his dream that morning! -- Groggily he opened his eyes again, but he was having trouble focusing. He felt strangely full, almost like he was constipated. He closed his eyes again, and tried to regain his bearings. He was on his bed, sitting up at the edge of it, with his legs over the side. He felt cozily warm, and soon realized this was because his wife was sitting on his lap with her legs wrapped around his waist, he opened his eyes. No! not his wife, it was this woman again! She had her arms around his shoulders and was embracing him loosely as if it were completely natural. She leaned back a bit and finally saw her face, a longish, thin one with high cheekbones and dark brown eyes. She smiled at him. "Hello, again! Glad you decided to come back and play!" It made no sense to him. He had no complaints, but how had he decided anything? "I see you're ready for me." She was looking down now and reached one hand down to expertly guide his semi-rigid dick inside of her. Oh, that felt good! She was so wet, he barely had to push to get the right angle to penetrate. He reached for her hips and settled her wonderfully fleshy pussy so that he was pushing deep into her. "Mmm." she moaned, softly. "You've hit just the right spot. Relax now. I'll handle things for awhile." She moved his hands off her hips and onto the bed so that he was balancing both of them. His feet could touch the ground, but she had him in just the right position so that he could not easily move. Adam didn't mind. Now she was closing her eyes and moving slowly. She began slowly rising up off of Adam's prick, using her legs and then letting herself drop back onto him. She did it so slowly that it tool her two or three seconds to get to the top point. And she fell so suddenly he actually bounced a bit on the bed. That's when he noticed the full feeling again. He was rubbing against something every time she bounced down. More than that, he seemed to be impaled on something! It was not painful, but he was definitely penetrated, and he hadn't even been aware of it until she started moving. She was watching him now, and smiling again. "You like that feeling?" He only smirked in return and closed his eyes, he had somehow lost the ability or even desire to talk, he was just absorbing the situation. But, Jesus, she had him just impaled on something, and as she was getting more worked up he was getting fucked, a little more with each bounce, and, oh, it was hitting an interesting spot. "Mmm. You do like it, I can see. Maybe you know how it feels now, from the other end." He just groaned in response as she bounced him now even more vigorously. Suddenly his eyes shot open! Whatever it was, was moving inside of him. This wasn't just her moving on top of him. He tried to look around for some indication of what was going on but all he could see was her legs and the bed. In fact it was moving in rhythm with her. She would slowly draw up and up and it was now pulling out of him until, suddenly . . . "Unnh!" He let out a sharp moan as it entered him and she simultaneously buried his dick in her pussy. He had never been harder! She picked up the pace now, clearly turned on by his excitement. "Ohh." she groaned. "Unnh" He was starting to moan along with her an octave down, both in rhythm. He didn't know how to move so he just sat there, penetrating and penetrated. She had him at the peak of his orgasm . . . almost . . . almost, and then she lost all rhythm and chaotically slammed down onto him as she screamed out her climax. "Oh! Fuck! Yesss!" And Adam was so close he wanted to just, take over, but he could barely move. She collapsed against him. "Oh Adam, that was amazing." Somehow he could barely speak around her. "Please, lady, I didn't quite . . ." She cut him off "Oh, you'll get your chance, Adam, just be a good boy, now, and relax." The words had an intoxicating effect and he found himself leaning back and closing his eyes. . ." --- He was walking out of their usual lunch spot with two of his coworkers, a sushi restaurant across the street from their office, when he saw her again, alone near the back of the restaurant. He told the others to head back without him and walked over to her table. He caught her eye as he walked up and decided to take the direct approach. "Hi, I've seen you around our office and wanted to introduce myself. I'm Adam. I work on the mechanical modeling for most of our designs." He tried to sound professional. "Hi, Adam. I'm Lilith. I have heard of your work. Good to meet you." She sounded pleased that he had stopped by. What was the connection here? He felt like he must be going crazy. "So, yeah, if you have any questions about some of the designs, feel free to let me know and we can go through them." He realized he was being over the top, but didn't care. The check for her lunch came as they were talking and she began signing for it as they were talking. "Thank you. I may take you up on that offer. I've been interested in some of the safety factors designed into the system. They seem a bit risky." She stood up and grabbed her coat which was on the back of her chair. "Oh, and about tonight. I should be by at eight, if you'll be ready by then." Adam, just stared. "Oh um, yeah. Sounds good." he finally blurted out. What was she talking about? "Good, see you then." she smiled at him and walked out. She was wearing heels and a knee length thin skirt that showed off her shapely ass. He couldn't help staring at her as she walked off. She turned her head as she opened the door and gave him a wink. Adam was strangely both aroused and panicky at the same time. What would he say to Eva? What was Lilith going to say to Eva? She was obviously in control here, and he realized he better at least let Eva know about this evening. He fished his cell from his pocket and pulled up her number. "Hello?" Eva's voice had a high flute-like tone to it. She sounded in a good mood. "Hi, Eva. How's your day going?" Adam tried to sound nonchalant. "Adam! I was just going to call you. Nothing unusual. Work is light here. I was thinking of knocking off early. How about you?" Adam decided just to b up front. "Nothing bad, but I did have a last minute issue. A colleague of mine wants to stop by after dinner to, ah, to discuss a potential collaboration." "Oh." is all Eva responded. She was clearly confused. "But don' t you remember? A friend of mine, Lilith, said she would be by tonight. We were going to catch up on her trip to Egypt." Adam didn't know what to say. "Adam? Are you still there?" "Yes, sorry, uh, okay, I'll tell, um, him to plan for another night. Sorry about that." "I think you'll like Lilith. She is a lot of fun." Adam tried to recover. "Yes, that should be interesting. Okay, I'll see you at home. Should be there by six." He hung up and tried to make sense of all of this. Lilith didn't act as if she knew Eva. Adam did remember Eva scheduling the dinner for tonight, but it had hardly registered at the time, just some friend of hers and he assumed it would be an early night for him as they caught up on each others lives. It appeared Lilith had something else in mind. -- The doorbell rang and Eva interrupted some last minute tidying of the living room to go to the door. She was dressed in a light blue summer dress that clung tightly to her torso. As she walked by Adam, he grabbed her hip and pulled her in for a quick kiss. He could feel her breasts rub against him as he pulled her close, and he held her there for as long as he thought he could get away with. "You don't mind if I cut out early tonight, do you?" he murmured to her as she broke the kiss. "You'll like Lilith, Adam! Just wait 'til you get to know her." Eva pulled away and gave him a smile. She continued toward the door as she said "But, yes, don't feel obligated on our part to stick around. Eva opened the door and broke into a broad smile. "Lilith! So good to see you!" She stepped out to hug Lilith and Adam heard her say. "God, you look stunning tonight! How long has it been?" Eva reappeared holding both of Lilith's hands as they talked excitedly. Lilith had a strapless black dress that accentuated her breasts. The dress was form fitting, showing off her thin waist and the flair of her shapely hips. Adam lost track of what they were saying as he openly ogled her body. "Sure we have that, don't we Adam?" Caught again, Adam looked up and tried to play along. "Yeah sure. What?" Eva smirked at him in mild disapproval. "You can make up a martini for Lilith, can't you?" Lilith smiled at him and he tried to put in a light mood. "A martini? No problem! You too, Eva?" he knew Eva liked one in the evening and they had a pretty good bar on hand for most drinks. "Please!", chimed in Eva. She and Lilith moved to the living room and settled into the overstuffed sectional in one corner. They were talking excitedly and had already moved on. Adam could see them from the bar they had which separated their dining room from the living room. He quickly mixed the drinks and brought them to the ladies. "Adam! You never told me you knew Lilith from work! What have you been hiding from me?" Eva asked in mock accusation. Adam blushed. "Well, I just met her. I mean, she recently. ." he stammered and trailed off looking to Lilith for help. "Adam was probably trying to keep our office love affair a secret." Lilith played along with Eva's mocking. "It's been pretty hot." Adam just kept his mouth shut. He knew he was in for a ribbing no matter what he said, considering how he had been ogling Lilith both in the office and this evening. Eva decided to let Adam off the hook and changed the topic. "Did you know Lilith has been traveling in Egypt for the last several month? She's been exploring something we were both into in college: females in ancient mythology." Eva looked at Adam to see whether she was boring him, but he looked interested, so she explained. "There's many examples in ancient middle eastern mythologies of woman demons who bewitch and trick the men. They are the seducers, the charmers in the stories." "Sound like interesting women, to me!" joked, Adam. "What did you find?" he could see Lilith really enjoyed discussing this with Eva. "It was the trip of a lifetime, believe me. I mainly visited a lot of the ancient ruins and the museums. It was eye opening to wander around the same places where these stories were told and retold." Lilith talked about the old cities she saw and cravings that showed different female goddesses, as many evil as good, and just the fun of traveling around the birthplace of civilization. "It's too bad so much of the area is unstable right now. The history and tradition in this area of the world makes anything else look like a recent colony. The fun of these ancient mythologies is to learn how our ancestors envisioned our different temptations and fears. Imagining them as goddesses and demons is a wonderful way of discussing them. Today, that approach has been banished from most of our lives, except, perhaps, during Halloween. It's the only time we scare and allow ourselves to scare. To seduce and allow ourselves to be seduced." Mirage The house felt vacant, hollow, and huge after everyone left. The whole Marco family went one by one for their three-week individual summer trips. The master and his wife, Mr and Mrs Marco—in whose household and care I have the honour to serve for the past several years—took a cruise, though I know for other personal reasons than the usual tour. "I'll go wakeboarding, guys—two weeks in Thailand," Mongo said, the eldest of the kids: sports fanatic, tall and handsome, muscles bulging with tattoos on either shoulders running down both arms like past girlfriends running after him. "I found a fantastic bitch, you know," he continued, smirking, the lovely Asian teens posted hot and alluring in their thongs in the resort site fresh in his eyes, describing it to me. He'll beach-bum with his gang, he said, in a secluded spot off the coast of Thailand where he intends to drop his girl also, already sliding away from his mind. Mongo and I share more than casual secrets, kept hidden from the whole family. Aroused perhaps or out of curiosity, I caught him once peeping inside my room. He was eighteen, at the peak of his macho popularity enjoying the adoration of college girls, ticking them off like discarded playing cards. I was twenty seven—sexy, aware and in full bloom. Taking my noon break after my chores, I was sure the closed door, though unlocked, was clear enough to show anyone I needed privacy. The weather was hot and I was tired and sleepy. I removed my undies and wore only a short chemise, translucent in its silky, delicate softness. Comfortable and refreshed, I was tickled by my little indecency, preening in the mirror. The luscious slopes of my breasts half-revealed in the low neckline, my nipples and cone areolas visible, puffy against the light cloth, while the laced hem glided up the delicate smoothness of my inner thighs. I eked out a girlish giggle, elated at my seductive charm, unaware the door was ajar. I massaged my tired legs and arms with body lotion, preparing for my nap. My drowsiness slowly replaced by a warm, intimate quiver in my flesh as my hands kneaded the smoothness of my knees, caressed higher the glossy silkiness of my thighs—when I noticed Mongo's face in the mirror peering in, watching me, devouring my sexuality. "Mongo—you need something?" I said, catching his embarrassment, as I whirled in my seat to face him. My body exposed indecent before his sinful eyes, as my knees locked tight to cover my shaven pussy. "Jeez—I-I thought—shit!" he said, fumbling for explanation, opening the door fast and closing it after him, standing flat against it. "It's true what they say—you're fucking gorgeous, Omma!" he said, hushed, keeping his excitement down. His cock bobbed, struggled hard against his shorts, bigger than I imagined or supposed. A tingle of mischievous pride coursed through my body, shameless in my malicious response—smiling, I grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to me, locking the door behind. I was thrilled by the trembling arousal of the boy, his hands eager to touch my breasts, to slide underneath my legs and play with my pussy. I glided from him backing away and lay in bed provoking his arousals more, opening my legs slightly enjoying his wide-eyed stare. I allowed him to gloat at my succulent flesh, my wet nakedness—I was so aroused I didn't think of any consequences. I am only an unschooled household help. I gave Mongo a blowjob after he ate my breasts and fingered my sex, more than delighted to lick and touch my wet pussy, stout and warm in his shaking palm as he exploded in my mouth in our cavorting sixty-nine in bed. Soon, it became our secret sport, sneaking into my room whenever he feels horny and wants quick, satisfying eruptions. In return, I enjoyed his sexual excitement, admiration, and lies, coming to me as my secret lover hidden in the house. But I did not allow Mongo to fuck me, for reasons we both understood. After all, he has more girlfriends to choose from, and I am not prepared for it yet. "And your last week?" I heard Rica said, breaking my pleasant, amoral thoughts. The only girl in the brood, she opted for a mountain climb with her friends in the Cordillera. To hone their strength and stamina for the international rock-climbing competition, she told me then, beaming, their college team sponsored by the school. Yet I know Rica plans to enjoy some outdoor fun with her girlfriend, the kid growing into a bouncy, athletic lesbian. Didn't Rica knock on my door too? Didn't the young butch, intrigued of the gossips she heard about me from the other servants, almost begged for lessons in erotic, female to female love play? Didn't she entice me with her toys, intriguing me and promising to show me how to use and enjoy it? Of course, I obliged. I have nothing to lose, and the girl at twenty is attractive and sexy. We woke up naked and exhausted each following morning, unable to untangle ourselves from our sweet, delicious embrace—tonguing our wet kisses, exploring our sex with gentle fingers, moaning in excited pleasures as we exploded again and again, her dildo strapped on me. It lasted for us, for no one knew I was Rica's personal coach—climbing, assaulting, challenging my carnal perversity—her sweet lips and lascivious tongue in my asshole and pussy. "N.Y.F.B., baby—NYFB!" Mongo said now, almost giving his sister the finger. Then abruptly turned in my direction, winking, our little bitch secret secured like the others. "C'mon, moron—you'll bring Jen?" Rica continued, amused, provoking her brother in front of their parents. "Who's JEN? Jenna? Jennifer? Jenjen?" Mongo said, clowning, both hands flying in hip hop innocence and surprise, and got hit with a throw pillow fast. "Wait—what's that? What's N...Y...D—?" Mr Teddy Marco said, a CFO for an overseas bank, stopping a pillow fight between the shouts and laughter of his kids. At fifty six, he'd become used to the riots that usually happened when the family plan their vacations. For him, it's all in the budget, like his intended stopover in Singapore on the way home. The fuck can't wait to see the newest casino, a dream of beginner's luck in the sky park rousing his appetite. These I overheard, with Mr Marco talking on the phone, bragging about his gambling plans. The same way he bragged about his potency, when he burst inside the servants' bathroom catching me all naked and wet, slippery as spit, gagging me with his erect cock. True, he was potent, not mucho or macho but close enough. He made me sucked his cock. "Deep throat me, Omma—ooh, ooh!" he whined, ordering me, gripping my head, fucking my face with ravenous delight, inserting the whole length of his cock in my mouth. For several seconds I sucked, pulled, and gobbled, using all the techniques I learned and tried, his cock stretching harder like a pipe until finally he exploded, full and at the hilt, choking me. "Swallow it, bitch! Swallow my cum! Beg for moo—oohh!—you fucking whore!!" he screamed, his dirty abuse ringing in my ears, hurrying me as his body writhed and convulsed. We lay in the bathroom floor...Unmindful of our sweat, our saliva, the smell and touch of cum that squirted uncontrolled all over our trembling flesh. The master opened the warm shower—refreshing, washing, falling lightly on our skin as we entangled again, comfortable with our naked selves, fondling me as I stroked his cock once more. "Only gays can give the best bjs, Omma," Mr Marco said, hugging me closer to him, caressing my head, shoulders and back, pampering me with temporary affection, admiration, and lust—my delicate fingers tightening around the shaft of his cock. "Is that true, Sir?" I said, and petted the swollen head with my lips, my tongue pointed, darting in and out fast to lick the slit. Mr Marco moaned, legs kicking out, lifting his crotch from the floor, his hands squeezing, gripping my breasts. He gasped, groaned and squealed like a pig with mouth wide open unable to answer or mumble his filth. My tongue swirled slow around the crown of his cock, red and engorged inside my mouth. He squirmed, twisted and trembled exploding once more, shuddering hard. I felt feverish, filled with cum and malicious bliss. My decency already ignored, trampled, dissolving in the lewdness of my humiliations, my immoral submissions, all wicked and depraved in my mind's eyes. The master came back like the rest, equipped with his sex toys, plastic rings and long rubber tubings. "Shit, Omma—if only every woman is like you—oohh!" he said, writhing, exploding in our slippery, untidy mess. He woke me one late evening and ordered me to masturbate under the breakfast table, lying in the clammy tiles of the kitchen floor—my trembling legs wide open and fastened to the table's posts—while he used his tools with batteries and little strings. Mr Marco recognized I was ripe and did not hesitate to claim his rights. I was only an obedient slave to his master, after all. He tied me and gagged my mouth with his brief already moist with our sweat, saliva and cum. My breasts reddish, swollen, held and strapped up high with loops of plastic rings. His rubber tubings coiled tight around my body with my arms and legs fastened and opened apart—the lips of my pussy and the cheeks of my butt spread wide. The master poked and probed, opening my asshole loose with his slurping tongue and eager lips. Then he inserted his throbbing cock—tearing, pounding, ravaging me without let up. He baptized me in a cock-numbing, cunt-squirting butt fuck --my first and not the last—my asshole tightening harder than my mouth, gripping the bulbous head of his cock, holding his orgasms at bay, which made him buckle and bounce noisily on the floor. Without my gag, I think the whole household would have woken and found us. "Nevvah-evah-Yearn-Fellah's-Babe-ah," Mongo said, looking at me, sticking his tongue out, tickling my senses with another erotic hint—will he come tonight before they leave tomorrow?—fingers rapping in tune. More laughter erupted, pillows raining on him. "Hey, hey—wait! I asked a question here," Mr Marco said, faking seriousness. "That's 'None-of-Your-Fucking-Business', Dad," Pico said, sniggering, catching the glares of his Dad and Mom. "I mean—that's what it means, Daddy—ha-ha!" And pandemonium broke loose. The youngest at twelve and my favourite, Pico camps and treks with his classmates and teachers in a mountain resort in China. An effeminate leaning more towards gay dispositions and practices—how many times did I catch him putting on my lipsticks while wearing a pink wig?—Pico acts as the clown in the family: laughing on the outside. The latest I heard, the boy's attitude is condoned by his art teachers. "Watch your tongue, Pico—there's a lady in da house!" Mongo said, pointing to me with a tilt of his head while I prepared some snacks and drinks, all eyes in my direction at once. "Omma is not a lady!" Pico shouted running to me, hugging me, tickling me, teasing me. I love the boy like my own. "Oh, Pico—Omma will poison you soon, you'll see," Mrs Flora Marco said, shaking her head, ruffling her son's hair as everybody laughed. Flory to her fellow dermatologists and still attractive in her early fifties, she insisted on a cruise intrigued by the lavish ballroom parties. Of course, the handsome and beautiful D.I.s presented to the guests are always a remarkable collection available for all sexes. And with Mr Marco glued in the casino, the old lady can have her ways, her secret bi-ways. This, I am privy, too, as Mrs Marco often confided to me, sharing a lot of her sexual wishes and activities. Yes, I was not exempted from Flory's sexual needs. The woman actually likes me, admires me, covets my youthful looks. And because she was instrumental in my growth and confidence as a woman—guiding, soothing, assuring my personal doubts—I always obliged. I kept my little secrets safe this way, since each one except the youngest, Pico, were all involved in our sexual family escapades. Flory would come to my room unannounced when she's feeling ugly and old, desperate of her advancing years no cosmetics or surgery can cover or avoid. We would undress; shave our pussy before we rub our favourite scented oils on each other, slowly building the heat of our arousals for whoever man or woman interested us both, identities hidden, giggled fantasies unspoken, remaining untold. And then we fucked. I strapped on her glass dildo, straddling her while she ate my breasts, fingered my sex, as I mashed and squeezed hers, too, until we both collapsed on my bed, suppressing our screams and delirious agonies until our depravities subside in the early mornings. That way, my benefactor and friend, Mrs Flory Marco, remained happy and at ease while my secrets stayed safe. With everybody gone for three weeks, and all the important responsibilities dumped in my care as the official housekeeper, I'd be alone in the house. I require no compulsory services of the other servants and caretakers. I can manage by myself, and if I need any of them, each one is a phone call away. Thus, with kisses of goodbyes and "take cares" smothering me, the family left in a rush—school kids out for recess. "Goodbye, Omma—we'll see you soon!" said Mrs Marco, hugging me, kissing my cheeks before handing me the keys, the couple, the last to leave. Omma, an endearing mispronunciation of Mongo at two years old, unable to say my real name, Roman, and got stuck. After more than thirty years, the name filled and flowered with sincerity and love, an honest acceptance of everyone for what I am—a homosexual at birth—adopting the name and staying here longer than I planned or thought I could endure. After all, I was only eight when my parents sold me as domestic help...One less mouth to feed in our family of thirteen kids. Alone to contemplate my future in the near cavernous silence of the quaint villa, I welcomed with excited restlessness the recurring desires and past experiences coming so vivid and private during the summer months: My dirty little escapades, treasured and kept intact, spicing my uneventful life somehow. Uneducated, with only the ability of a Prep School kid to read or write, and without social grace or special skills to balance my disadvantages except for the unusual provocative allure my body acquired, I acknowledged with shame and secrecy my physical abnormalities. Though feeling distraught and confused, I accepted my continuing transformation, adapting everything like my new name. Yet I became conscious, more than embarrassed. My breasts swelled when aroused, the nipples stretching hard, aching with a desire to be touched, to be milked, squeezed and sucked. But what surprised me most was the ticklish sensation of wetness spreading warm inside and around my pubic mound, awakening sensual urges new and exciting to me—a yearning to be fucked. I discovered quite late I was born a hermaphrodite, as Mrs Marco disclosed, with me even unable to pronounce or spell the word. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, Omma—you're so unique!" the woman said, gushing with admiration at my slender built and silken flesh. "You're delicately attractive and girls your age will surely die for your unblemished, soft skin." At eighteen, my breasts blossomed, already full like a woman, with wide cone areolas and long nipples. My waist, small and supple, curves along my generous hips and butt, sliding down the length of my smooth, hairless, shapely legs. While my male genitals developed more like a cunt: My pubic mound a cupped hand where my tiny prick receded, behaving like a large clit enclosed in the folds of the foreskin and embedded deep within the velvety cheeks of my hollow balls forming stout luscious lips. Sensitive and ticklish, my sex becomes moist and profusely wet, especially, when I'm wearing a dress and ogled and gawked at by men. The gardener, on an excuse asking for a glass of water, groped between my legs early on. The driver displayed an erection protruding in his pants each time the brute catches me alone. And the cook enticed me with pastries while the old man ogled the swells of my breasts. Each man and those like them provided me life lessons I nibbled quick and spat out, more concerned in keeping my decency and pride intact, yet treasuring my pleasures that remained unforgettable even now. "Come often, Omma...eat my delicious cakes," the cook said, giving me a small plate. His eyes glued in front of my delicate blouse, my breasts bobbing and bloated, restrained only in my low-cut bra. "Look, your tits will grow bigger and more beautiful," the old man whispered, excited. His warm breath caressed my ears while his eyes licked the soft swells of my breasts, my nipples titillated and aroused, unmistakable in my flimsy top. For who else would buy my seductive clothes but Mrs Marco? All my sexy lingerie, nighties, and revealing dresses handpicked and given by the woman thrilled to shop for me, exhilarated when I wore a stylish, expensive dress for the first time. "Oh, you're lovely, Omma—you look gorgeous! How I wish I have your tits!" Mrs Marco said, as I pranced and pirouetted, giggling in front of the mirror, already a woman. Tits, though I heard it often from the gardener, the driver, and the cook every chance they got to corner me, I tried to ignore it. A gentle tremor so perverse wakens in my flesh each time I remember the look in their greedy eyes—devouring, undressing, molesting my feminine reality—sending ripples of excitement from my nipples way down deep my inner thighs. My breasts ached, tight and swollen, while my sex felt on fire, moist and slippery, burning with an itch my fingers cannot reach or satisfy. Until one afternoon without cause or reason, the cook grabbed me and squeezed my breasts. The tingling pleasures of his touch electrified me, shocked my senses as I reeled disoriented, unprepared for the peculiar sensation quivering in my flesh. He fondled my tits, eyes wild and excited—mashing, kneading the luscious yielding roundness. I screamed in silent revulsion of my desecration, and ran away from him. My whole body trembled as I hurried in tears for the privacy of my room—angry, disgusted, and irritated with myself—I cannot understand what I felt and why I did not resist. Why did I allow him to fondle my breasts, to grope free inside my blouse? Oh, how long did his hands enjoy touching me, stroking my breasts? The immorality of his indecency wriggled in my sleep even as I prayed, stirring forbidden scenes of sinful acts I dared not dream or imagine. His stout warm hands came anxious and alive once more—cupping the roundness of my breasts from below, stroking slow the smoothness upwards removing my bra—baring the luscious ripeness, titillating my flesh. Goose bumps crawled and bristled all over my body. I felt a delicious tingle kicked in my sex, squirting my pleasures as his fingers teased my puffy areolas, squeezing, stretching the nipples—his unclean desires enfolding, fondling my breasts, uncontrolled. The lewdness of the thrill pressed down on me, crushed my body while I lay excited restless in bed. The erotic recollection of his hands squashing my breasts—oohh!—more than alive as I groped and touched myself. Yet to my surprise, it shredded away my inhibitions and taboos, absorbed my anger, my indignation and fears. My whole being overwhelmed and dumbfounded—quivering, craving for the joy of human intimacy, of male strength, dominance, and passion that made me embrace, relish, and understand more a woman's delicate, vulnerable beauty—and came back, without hesitation, for more. The gardener no longer made an excuse to slide his hands between my legs and fondle my arousal, stroking the smoothness within, pushing higher and higher as I squeezed my thighs together hoping to stop him...Yet letting go with a squirm when he touched the wetness of my panties, caressed the soft delicate lips of my sex, spreading wide my legs to let him in with a shudder and a bitten, muted scream. Mirage My nails dug deep in his arms when I exploded and collapsed against his shoulders; the grinning gardener catching me and smothering my body with wet kisses all over, whispering hot in my ears. "I want to fuck you with my lips and tongue, Omma," he said. And I obliged, undressed for the man, not once but for the rest of the week—or whenever I found him free and alone in the tools' shack—rimming my asshole for the first time as I convulsed and buckled with pleasures melting my flesh, stopping my breath as he licked. The driver came next, pulled out his erection to show me how long and thick and hard it can get. He put my hand on his cock, persuaded me to play with it, to stroke it, until I kissed and sucked the whole length. "Oooh, you're good, Omma—you're sooh good, ooh!" the driver gloated and allowed me to swallow his cum, my first taste of the hot creamy liquid. I acquired a fondness for it, the pungent milky flavour swilling inside my mouth and tongue—swallowing as much as I can get—that I visited him in the garage often to give the man blowjobs he will never forget. But the cook only listened to the gardener and the driver, smiled indifferent when they boasted of their stolen liberties with me. Yet unknown to them, as the old man threatened me of his knowledge of my sexual escapades—embarrassing me, scaring me he'll tell the master unless I agree—he planned something for himself. He dropped me a note one Sunday afternoon, when everyone in the family was out, together with the driver and the gardener who took the day off: Let's bake your cake, Omma. Take a bath and meet me at the pantry. Your oven is hot and I am good— You must come nude. It was something I begged him before to teach me, and was surprised and shocked at the frankness of his request. We were in the pantry gathering the ingredients, and I giggled in spite of his threat. I came down to meet him, wrapped only in a large bath towel. I had nothing on underneath, not even an extra apron to hide my sex. "Come, Omma—help me prepare a cake," the cook said, tying a clean starchy apron around his waist, already naked with the bulge of his erection pushing clear on the cloth. In a long bare wooden table, I lied down without being told, and heard the cook's rambling monologue. "What's important, Omma, are the decorations," the cook said, giving me lessons in baking, unmindful of my nudity, unwrapping the towel from my glistening body. I rubbed myself with fragrant natural oil before coming, my skin supple and smooth, tempting to touch and devour. "First, I'll decorate what's so succulent and ripe with icings," he continued, and squirted luxuriant creams and syrups in circular fashion on my breasts and nipples, hands trembling as he scattered chocolate shavings, my breasts heaving indecent in my aroused, deep breathing. The cook spread icing on my body down to my legs, careful not to touch me yet. The engorged head of his cock nudged me a few times already, sending jolts of excitement quivering all over me. "What I'll put down here—this virginal centre piece of your altar—are fresh cherries and strawberries, mixed with delicious whip cream and pure honey almond syrup," the cook continued, sprinkling my body with chopped assorted nuts, tickling my sex. I moaned, unable to resist anymore the warmth of wicked desires titillating my flesh. With my wanton plea, the cook in a sudden ravenous spurt tore away his apron and mounted me. He mashed my breasts with savaged eagerness with his face, his mouth, his hands, eating me until I trembled and doubled over, screaming, whimpering. He went down on me, devouring away my sexual insanity, the old man all sweaty and tense. I gripped his massive cock and squeezed hard, stroked up and down fast the length from the hilt to the roundish head, encircling my fingers at the engorged crown, tickling it with my nails. He burped, shuddered, and squirted his hot, abundant cream—with me, slurping everything. These simmering recollections come vivid to shroud my life as the month of May ends. The kids, noisy and boisterous tossing ideas for their planned trips, only heightened my anticipation and hunger within, while the atmosphere outside grew hotter, scalding my skin. It's summer, opening wide its wings, unfolding the warmth of its caress, ensnaring with eagerness the sizzling lasciviousness of my thoughts, demanding delirious self-indulgences for my dirty daydreams. During these lustful moments of solitude, I savour the intense arousals woken in my lurid memories. Yet pushed the seductive experiences down my belly as it uncoil—writhing, twitching, titillating me—everything familiar and impure rising unbidden, burning my body, exploding relentless as soon as I cave in. Yet, in the heat of my passion I would cuddle and isolate from the fire a delicate romantic interlude, where I became vulnerable and inadequate, yearning for love, hoping like mad. It happened then so unexpected, coming back to my life like before—alive with its seductive secrecy and intimate awkwardness, each and every year hence—six summers ago. "Omma! Omma, where are you?" called the strong, familiar voice, surprising me since everybody already left. Sir Dino de Belen, the youngest brother of Mrs Marco, waited in the driveway, his bags at his feet, the roar of the cab driving away. "Sir Dino?! They already left, sir! There's no one here!" I shouted, agitated and shocked, peering at a small window in the cellar fronting the house. I went down that midday to fetch some wine to fill the supply cabinet in the upstairs bar and did not expect any visitor, vendor, or collector to come by. It was rude for me, a servant, to shout and welcome Mrs Marco's brother that way. I was aware of my shameful, disrespectful reaction, yet hesitated to come out. I was dirty, all sweaty and soiled in my work clothes, a loose housedress worn and old, for I planned to clean the basement after filling the stocks upstairs. And worst, as anxious perspirations trickled down my front and back, I wasn't wearing any undies—I was alone, after all—hoping to lessen the discomfort of cleaning the cramped cellar. "Hi, Omma! May I come in? I'm sorry if I disturbed you but—" "Yes, Sir! Please do! I'll be up in a minute!" I said, shouting again, almost distressed, my mind spinning for a possible excuse for the delay. I cannot come up! My dress soaked, sticking to my skin, too revealing as my breasts swelled and the nipples sprouted, teased by an unrequited forbidden desire insisting to be expressed this time. Sir Dino, only nineteen then to my sexually experienced twenty nine, made me feel more guilty and irresponsible with my embarrassing behaviour. Haven't I noticed with delicious excitement the youth's stolen glances at me when we first saw each other a year before in this house? An affectionate, infatuated demeanour still nervous whenever our eyes met uncovering my fragile heart—understanding, loving the real me? Unknown to him, the feeling is mutual...My body shook, shivered with uncanny glee whenever I think of him. A quiet, unassuming youth pursuing higher education in a strict and cloistered religious college in another city, as Mrs Marco once told me, Sir Dino has no girlfriend ever since. "Can you believe that—and no sex up to now?" Mrs Marco said with a giggle, emphasizing the sex. "Dino might not be able to marry someday, Omma...And I pity him," she continued, unaware of the tremor she awakened in my body. "And he's good-looking, isn't he?" The sexual suggestions of our provocative situation that afternoon, six years ago, encouraged my secret arousals more, enflamed my mischievous desires to follow my heart. Worried that some neighbours saw the young master arrived and kept waiting outside, I wiped my perspirations fast and tried to fix myself. I guessed my soaked dress would not reveal much to cause any awkward moment of embarrassment. At least, I can cover myself with the bottles and my hand towel. I closed the lights and picked up the basket of wine, ready to open the cellar door, when I froze. Sir Dino stood in the doorway. "Omma, so you're here," Sir Dino said, standing a few feet from me, the door ajar allowing some light, his hands extended to greet and help me. True, he is a gentleman, looking as young and handsome as we first met, and not even the gloomy shadows inside the basement can hide the sincerity and warmth of his enthusiasm to see me again. "Sir Dino! You shouldn't—it's dirty here and—oh!" I said, stumbling for words. The boy stepped closer to me in the dark, grateful it seems of our privacy from anyone's ears or eyes...Snaring an immediate intimacy only lovers often perceived and recognized, stoking the unspoken suggestions of burning libidinous desires, restrained and yet alive. I must admit I did not expect it. I must confess the incident played and repeated itself in anxious wonderment in my feverish mind, sweet and real happening in my flesh. For how can a woman at my age and position in life—a domestic help without education or money to survive—still find true love in the arms of a rich, handsome young man? Does he know? Does he have any idea the she in me is not for real? "What's this—for me?" Sir Dino said, smiling, grabbing the basket of wine from me, picking a bottle and opening it, savouring the aroma first before tasting it. "Brandy...this is good—you want some?" he said, proffering the bottle, flirting with me, coming closer still in the near dark. "S-sir Dino, can we—" I whispered, almost in his ears. My heart thumped faster than when I ran for Pico when the boy had an accident and yet, felt thrilled this time. The warmth of our closeness smothering my resistance, scorching the fear in my flesh, stripping my objections to satisfy an amorous desire long kindled and felt. "Have some, Omma," Sir Dino said, and poured the wine to my surprise on my chest—abundant, sumptuous, malicious, unmindful of content. "You know I don't drink...but with you, I will." I gasped, more dumbfounded than aghast. The cold wine glided merciless down my flesh, dripped at my distending nipples while an intimate, wicked sensation shattered my senses to resist, squashing my compulsion to run—the twin globes of my ample breasts swollen and firm, pointed high with ticklish arousals and feminine pride. Ooh, how my body quivered! I folded inwards with a jolt as the young master's strong hands held me steady on the shoulders, straightened and braced me against the rough, damped walls...Our intimate closeness mere inches away from igniting our desires. His lips found mine not in eagerness or wanton lust but with delicate caress. His kisses wandered soft around my face, nipping along my jaw, sucking slow the brandy in the pulsing length of my neck, tracing the drops with his tongue down to my yielding, quivering cleavage—his strong face sandwiched in the heaving softness of my breasts. "Oohh! S-sir Dino...no—oohh, oohmm!" I moaned, my flesh melting with his lips. The young master did not stop but continued downwards instead, as if relishing the wine trickling on my trembling flesh. My housedress felt loose, untied and already falling on my feet. The sexual excitement I had long suppressed spread copious and warm deep inside my thighs, persistent—as I my legs opened wide. Indulgent and submissive to his desires as he hugged me tight, the gap between our bodies evaporated, crushing me in his embrace. His hands curled and slithered free cupping the roundness of my swollen breasts—squeezing, mashing and pulling—while his lips sucked, licked, and swallowed unhurried the yielding warmth of each. My body burned, my breath on fire as I obliged, indulging him with the purity of my love. Both my feet rose—high, higher from the floor, a dazed marionette dancing without strings—my legs scissoring up on his neck as he lifted my whole body and positioned me. I trembled, my butt offered, exposed—spreading my anal hole in all its anxious splendour, fingering, tickling, poking. "Sir Dino, noohh...Oooh, please—" I smelled the fragrance of his luxuriant hair, his shaving lotion, the cleanness of his shirt, the freshness of his breath. I seemed naked and small, unveiled and revealed all the more. My body glistened indiscreet in sweltering lasciviousness, every pore exhaling whiffs of my arousal, while my uncontrolled wetness dripped luxuriant, streams of delicious pleasures. I rose above the clouds glittering and bright when he inserted his rigid cock with tremendous might. "Omma...My dear Omma...My darling Omma," Sir Dino said, confident, loving and sincere. I exploded in massive orgasm in seconds, and then several more. Shuddering, my fingers clutched hard his shoulders and back. My mouth clenched tight in muffled screams, biting my lips. He was leaning against me on the wall, pumping in fluid expert motion lifting me off the floor, taking control of my mind, my physical being, my captive soul. His cock sliding, grinding in swirling waves, pushing with all his weight against my asshole. Sir Dino's hands wandered along my body, more eager than the gardener, masturbating my engorged clit. His mouth, more ravenous than the cook, sucked, gobbled and played with my elongated nipples. His cock, bigger than the brute, tore me apart—in and out of my ass, while he ate my breasts, swallowed the softness as far as his mouth allowed, slurping loud without let up. "Unh! Unh! Ummh!!" Sir Dino groaned, pounding deeper and harder, simultaneous with my moans. We were moving as one, our joys and passions merging with the obscenity of the sounds echoing in the dim silence of the cellar. "Squish! Squish! Splosh!" went the rhythm of his cock again and again, sliding in and out of my slippery hole, lubricated by his oozing hot cum. Our immoral symphony resounded only for our pleasures—urging us, burning us, accompanying our forbidden union—dissolving all our sacred inhibitions. We wallowed in the dark of the cellar, two individuals hungry for one another, enjoying our stolen moments together. No more words spoken or exchanged, no surprises or explanation exhaled...Every grunt, every whimper, every moan and pursed scream embraced, forgiven and understood. I was thrilled by his expertise, consumed by his sexual skills. I became a slave, enthralled by his frank and immediate acceptance of my sex, fucking my asshole without doubt or question. I did not expect him to be this good, especially coming from a religious college and what Mrs Marco also disclosed. "Did you learn all these too in your school?" I said, teasing him, snuggling to him, embracing me tighter as if I am a blanket that comforted him. We lay on a work table, unmindful of the damp, the dark, or the rough wood, our naked closeness sustaining our passions. He stroked my hair, kissed me tenderly on my brows, my eyes, and cheeks, then whispered hot in my ears: "When you love someone, Omma, there's no need to learn or to question anything." We kissed, we fucked again...We were lovers, and no one can take my privilege away. For the past six years every summer, the rituals of our union repeated itself in more amorous and unforgettable indulgences, more lustful than the last, more deviant and perverted each time. "I can only come and see you once a year, Omma...My studies—I have only one vacation," Sir Dino said before we said goodbye the first time. "Wait for me, my love—for I will always come," he said, and I believe him as I know deep in my heart what he said is true, no questions to ask, no answers to learn. Now, at thirty five, I wait...expectant, enamoured, impatient; an obedient pet tied to my young master's peck and whisper. And I heard his cab approached the driveway. Without feeling uncomfortable or conscious of myself anymore—I had no undies and wore only a skimpy, revealing night dress—I hurried for the main door, elated to welcome my lover in our temporary home, our sexual playroom. For tomorrow, we would rent a beach house, our usual practice through the years. We'll go separately at the place to avoid gossips and sneers from the neighbours and the townsfolk wary of malicious hints. And we'll enjoy our summer, free and uninhibited for two weeks. Oh, how I wish there are more summers in a year! Then again, it would not make our meetings special at all. I giggled like a little girl at the foolishness of my selfish, indecent thoughts. Today, I am so happy, more than exhilarated as I bounded the steps towards the driveway. I planned to tell Dino I would quit the household and prepare for our union. I'll find a job in the city and we'll live together as husband and wife, adopting a child as soon as we're ready for a family. My heart overwhelmed with passion and joy to see my Dino once again...the love of my life, for all eternity. "Omma...How nice to see you!" Dino said, soft, calm, sincere. Like a blast of wind, his words slapped my face—"How nice to see you?"—what the fuck?! No tone of elation slipped from Dino's voice, but held only a transparent, enormous affection for me. A sincerity I felt extended far beyond what love transpired between us, what carnal pleasures we've learned and shared for one another. A feeling of uncompromised honesty for adoring me—"You're God's beautiful creation in my eyes, Omma"—as he would often whisper. Yet a flash of blinding reality stabbed my eyes as I crumpled, slumped on my knees. My heart ached, empty, hollow and cold. A dreadful keening of unbearable sorrow escaped my lips. A sense of helplessness drowned my tears, suffocating my screams, shattering to dusts all my plans and dreams. Sir Dino de Belen, too numb and dumb to say anything, stood in his white priest's garments in the driveway, while the other priest driving the car watched us, unable to say or do anything. "I love you, Omma...I love you," Dino said, over and over again. Three little words devoid now of its heartfelt promise, the wavering intentions obscured, irreparable, scattered to oblivion by the simmering wind. I did not hear it. I did not notice it...I did not even realize when Dino or Sir Dino or Father Dino or whatever the fuck calls himself now drove off some time ago. My face reflected what's in my heart, a strong feeling of indifference, upholding my pride. My eyes set straight against the sun, quietly sifting the truth from the false, absorbing without regret the illusory thrills of my sexual misadventures and love affair—deceptive reflections now all barren, hollow, and dead, drying in the bright, afternoon light. I felt fragile though, shaken and weak in an almost violated way. I blamed no one but my stupid trusting heart for believing, my ignorance for giving all of myself, for being honest with it. I had been foolish to confine myself in this house, a place not my home that stunted my fulfilment for a meaningful life. I was bounded here, thinking everything is for real and all right. Didn't my amoral experiences showed me enough already? Are my pleasures so forbidden I am not allowed to love? I felt resigned to my fate as I sighed, regretful and oblivious of my surroundings—the lengthening shadows moving, once more shrouding, enclosing me in. The driver honked twice, excited and loud, startling me from my sad reveries. I thought it was the brute, yet felt and saw Dino came back, waving, smiling at me. But it was the other priest driving the car, alone this time—grinning, waving, flicking his cigarette out the window, stopping fast the car. The gush of warm wind lifted the hem of my dress. It billowed wide and unabashed—revealing, exposing more than my sultry, silken flesh—titillating what sinful eyes always covet. Yet I am no Marilyn and eked out a squeak—impish, immoral, and impure, squealing out a long suppressed giggle. I caught the priest's wide-eyed stare, enthralled, opening the passenger door, beckoning, inviting me in. Mirage "Can I help you, Father?" I said, leaning on the car's door, unmindful of my alluring, mesmerizing demeanour, unaware of the sheerness of my dress—hugging, revealing the succulent temptations of my flesh in the soft afternoon breeze. "I-I thought I'd apologize f-for Father Dino...," the priest said, stammering, swallowing hard, feasting on my unintentional indecent provocation. Father Dino's yearly sojourn to test his vows of priesthood proved fruitful for the Church, he said, yet with a sad, unavoidable baggage he must leave behind—me. "But now—I-I believe his confessions w-were all true," the priest continued, anxious, licking his lips, taking malicious deep breath, the lewdness of his expectations dripping in his sweaty, wrinkle-lined face. Sir Dino wanted to stay with me, according to him. "Can I confess too, Father?" I said with a soft, wicked chuckle—the hem of my dress rising high on my thighs while the thin straps slid off my shoulders unveiling the delectable swells of my bobbing breasts—exposing more of my tease as I slithered in the seat beside the priest. "Of course, my child," the priest said, and leaned forward to close the door. "I'm here to guide you," he continued, his watery eyes glued on the soft mounds of my breasts, on the silken gloss of my thighs, his erection thumping wild like his heart. "Lead the way, Father," I said, as the priest's hairy arm brushed along my protruding nipples, pressed lightly against the bulging roundness of my breasts, testing if I will resist. I unzipped his pants without hesitation to calm his fears, his trembling hands mashing and squeezing my succulent tits in rabid eagerness—a depraved old, fucking hypocrite. With summer ablaze and my plans ruined—my dreams already lost and forgotten—a city life beckons hot and liberating. I have a ticket now—slobbering, greedy and eager as the driver, the gardener, and the cook combined—tickling my senses for the unknown pleasures and adventures of new life. I smiled. My heart resolved to change the course of my fate. I will enjoy the process, I know, embracing the empowering freedom releasing myself from the humiliation and submissive servitude of my past, the degrading shackles that tied me to the treachery of a liar—always loving, waiting, obedient and patient as a nun. I am Omma...I am what I am, and I will be me in the bustles of life in the city. I opened myself wide and began to wallow with glee beneath the shadows of dark clouds hovering in the coming dusk. I squeezed tight the ring of my anal delight, and the priest convulsed, crumpled, ejaculating hard—quivering, melting in the seat of his car. "I-I love you, Omma," he groaned, hugging me, holding me, seeking my strength, my pleasures, my uniqueness and beauty—everything not new to me but ringing with leaden familiarity. His words echoed the same empty certainty, an all-too recognizable hollow hypocrisy as I laughed...It's time to pack. ---------------00000000---------------- Thank you for reading my story. I appreciate and welcome comments and suggestions as I improve my craft. I hope you enjoyed my story. Stop by soon to read part two: "AFTERIMAGE". And please don't forget to vote! Thank you once again, Lin Min Mirage "Be careful what you wish for, Lilith." Eva interrupted."It's Halloween next week. Lilith just laughed. "Oh, I'm in no danger, Eva, believe me." her eyes, twinkled and they both turned to Adam, as he rose to gather up their empty glasses for another round. Lilith and Eva kept up the discussion for some time. They were on the couch together, sitting forward so they could rest their drinks on the coffee table. They talked about Lilith's recent trip, about women in the workplace, about their college years. Adam was mildly interested, but mostly just enjoyed watching these two beautiful women in his home. He made sure their drinks were regularly topped off and helped himself regularly, as well. There was a pause in the conversation. Adam had lost track of what was even being discussed, but noticed Lilith was looking intently into Eva's eyes. Eva was looking back, but with a timid look, wide-eyed and almost frozen. Their faces were no more than half a foot apart and Lilith had a hand on Eva's knee. Then she leaned in, tilted her head to one side and gave Eva a kiss. This was more than a friendly kiss. Both of them had their eyes closed and they lingered with lips apart, both obviously enjoying the sensation. Adam was shocked silent. Slowly, Lilith pulled back and looked toward Adam, smiling slightly. "Sorry, Adam, I'm taking liberties with your wife, without even asking you." She was speaking very carefully as if she were trying to avoid slurring her words. Adam relaxed a bit as he realized they were both obviously drunk. This could be fun! "You don't mind, do you?" Adam blinked and hesitated. "Hmm? Oh. Nono. Why would I care? I mean, two beautiful women on my couch, decide to share a kiss? What's to mind?" Adam wondered whether he was laying it on too thick. "I thought not." Lilith said as she leaned back and put an arm around Eva's waist. "Maybe you should come over here and show me how Eva really likes it. " Adam stared blankly at her. "You know! How she likes to be kissed." Eva and Lilith were now both looking at him, Eva with a shy grin, showing she was embarrassed but enjoying the attention from Lilith. Adam stood up and walked over to Eva on the couch, hoping his arousal was not completely obvious to both of them. Eva looked up at him expectantly. "She likes a good, passionate kiss," Adam explained, bending down and cupping the back of Eva's head as he gave her a deep open-mouthed kiss. She tasted of martini, and her kiss back told him that, despite her timidity, she was enjoying this as much as he was. "Wow, Adam. That was hot! Do you like to be in control with Eva?" Adam looked at her, but her question seemed genuine, not mocking. "That is, of course, if you two don't mind talking about your love life." "That's okay," Eva jumped in, as Adam sat down beside her. Now all three were on the couch. "Adam enjoys it, and I do too. Something about a man that takes charge in bed, really gets my juices going, so to speak." Eva laughed nervously, not completely at ease with this level of discussion. "I see! Well, don't let me interrupt things. Personally, I'd love to see another kiss. Unless, that is, Adam's too embarrassed for more. " She knew just how to play it. Adam was about to try to change the topic, seeing his wife's discomfort, but he wasn't about to have his manhood questioned, especially when he was enjoying this as well. Adam encouraged Eva to lean back into the couch and he half climbed on top of her to kiss her. This one was longer and more gentle. Adam dropped his hand from her shoulder to the side of her breast, and Eva softly moaned in appreciation. She had a hand on his hip and she pulled him closer as they kissed until he was practically laying on top of her. Slowly Adam looked up and saw Lilith admiring them without any hint of self-consciousness. "You two are great together! What a couple." She slid closer to Eva as she was talking and Adam reluctantly slid off of her until he was laying side ways next to Eva. "Oh, don't let me stop you," Lilith rubbed Eva's thigh and gave a nod of the head to Adam. " I'll be quiet, just vicariously enjoying the intimacy!" she laughed, obviously teasing them about their lowered inhibitions. Adam had enough of a buzz going that he was happy to play along. He put a hand on Eva's stomach and caressed her as he leaned in for another, longer kiss. This time, Eva was waiting for him and passionately kissed him back. She rose up and pushed him back on the couch, rolling over and climbing on top of him as she did so. Her short dress rode up on her, revealing most of her well-toned legs. She leaned down to Adam to continue kissing him and Adam, losing all inhibitions, now began groping Eva, grabbing her hips and ass cheeks, moving his hand s to her breasts and roughly massaging them. He pinched to find her nipples and realized she had no bra. A hand roamed down under her dress to find, indeed that she had no underwear at all! Adam was completely enveloped in the moment when he heard Lilith again. "You know what would be hot, you guys, is to watch the two of you fuck!" she paused as they both looked at her in shock. "Don't worry about me, I'm just a spectator." She smiled innocently at them, as if she had just suggested they all should go for a walk. "Well, I mean that does sound fun . . " started Adam, trying to not break the mood entirely. He knew Eva wouldn't go for this. "Okay. But no commentary from you, Lilith" Eva interrupted. Adam could see she was turned on by this, and didn't want Adam to think she was the hesitant one. "That is, Adam, unless you object?" she looked at Adam with a questioning face. Adam stared back, now completely dumbfounded by both Lilith's request and Eva's willingness. Well, who he was he to disappoint two beautiful women? He rolled Eva over until he was again on top and kissed her lustfully. He was completely focused on her body. He ran a hand down her side and grabbed her shapely hip with one hand as her grabbed the back of her head to hold her for a long, wet kiss. Eva kissed back just as vigorously. She began unbuttoning his shirt, and soon he was topless. Adam responded by kissing down the front of Eva, grabbing both hips as he did so. Pretty soon he was kneeling in front of her as she was slouched back , almost horizontal. Adam pushed his chest between her knees and she, welcomingly, opened her legs for him. He pushed up the hem of her dress, and kissed the inside of her thighs, kissing until he could smell the spicy aroma of her wet pussy. He licked at the top of her labia, and pushed his tongue through the folds, searching for her clit. Eva moaned in appreciation and Adam knew he had hit the spot. He started licking gently, and then more vigorously, flicking the nub of Eva's clit as he pushed into him for more. Stopping to a disappointed moan from Eva, he stood up and looked for Lilith. She was relaxing on the couch next to them, leaning back with one hand near a breast and the other resting on her thigh. Her short black dress was just barely covering her crotch, from Adam's perspective. She had a relaxed smile and was clearly enjoying the situation. From her pose he guessed she must have been doing more than just watching. "Well, Lilith," Adam offered. Trying not to ignore her. "I hope the show is to your liking." He had had enough to drink that he needed to focus on each word, in order to not slur his speech, but he was enjoying it. The buzz helped him enjoy the situation, and not feel too self-conscious as he stripped off his pants. His cock sprang from his boxers and jutted upward at an acute angle from his torso. Instinctively he grabbed it and gave it a quick rub. "I'm liking it more and more, Adam," she grinned up at him and then let her eyes trail down. "My, that looks dangerous. I do hope you are careful with it." She was relishing the discomfort she saw in Adam, with Eva in the room. Adam just blushed and returned his attention to Eva. He did have a good size cock,circumcised, smooth, and maybe even longer than average, but he also knew when he was being teased. Eva was still lying back, half asleep on the couch. She lazily watched as Adam took off his pants, and then simply opened her legs as he kneeled in front of her. Adam pushed her the hem of her dress up past her stomach, and grabbed her roughly by the hips. Pulling her further down on the couch, he took one hand to guide his cock into her pussy. He rubbed it up and down her slit a couple times and felt the wetness of his arousal against his head. Centering his cock, he pushed into her, hard. God, she was wet. He pushed most of the way in one stroke, and another one had him buried deeply in her pussy. He leaned forward to giver her a light kiss, and then unceremoniously started fucking her. He needed her bad. He was so hard and unfulfilled after the last couple days, that he didn't think he would last long. He didn't care. The room contracted to the pleasurable feel of her folds massaging his shaft, ans he pounded her with increasing force. She was almost completely limp, submitting her movement Adam's slow, aggressive thrusts. He could feel he was close. He increased the rhythm. He was like a metronome, slowly increasing the tempo with each push, grunting as he did so. Just a bit more. He closed his eyes and surrendered himself to the lust, reaching out in his mind for the climax. It was almost there. "Adam?" It was Lilith. He tried to pretend he didn't hear her, picking up the tempo again to put him over the top. She called again. "Hey, Adam?" Polite, but she was going to interrupt. Adam opened his eyes, his thrusting slowing and eventually stopping. Eva was in a dreamlike state. He looked aside to Lilith and she was now sitting forward, as if involved in an engrossing discussion. "I was just wondering if you noticed Eva?" Lilith turned to look at Eva and put a hand on her knee. Adam pulled out, and slumped to Eva's other side. "What about her? She seems to be doing all right." Adam knew what she was implying but didn't want to acknowledge it. "Oh she's probably all right," Lilith stood up and looked at Eva, who was lying back with a drunk smile on her face. "I just wonder whether she might benefit from a little more attention. Maybe you should take a break. " Adam didn't know how to respond, but Lilith seemed to take his silence as an assent. She kneeled in front of Eva and smiled at her. "You don't mind, do you Eva? Maybe Adam could even picked up a pointer or two." She glanced at Adam and gave him a wicked grin, as she began to lightly kiss Eva's leg. Adam shrugged and sat down in the chair across form the couch he was now almost behind and slightly to one side of Lilith. She still had on her short, black dress, and as she leaned forward toward Eva, he admired the hint of her ass cheeks peeking out from under her dress. "Adam, if you wanted to see more you should just say so." Lilith said, pausing as she licked her way towards Eva's pussy. Lilith began shimmying out of her dress and soon had it completely off, leaving her in a sheer black thong and heels. Adam stroked himself as he watched Lilith return to Eva's pussy and begin licking it softly. Eva moaned and tried to protest, but Lilith softly shushed her. She continued the licking, and gently inserted a finger, then two inside of Eva. Eva pushed back toward her and now grunted in approval. Eva stopped licking to encourage her. That's it Eva. God, you're beautiful to watch." Adam, himself couldn't decide who to watch as he alternated between admiring the fleshy movement of Eva's breast in her pushing against Lilith's fingers, or Lilith, whose hourglass figure was contorting in front of him to give his wife such pleasure. She returned to licking Eva's clit, and Eva exploded in a powerful orgasm, screaming Lilith's name, and opening her eyes, catching Adam's as she came in shuddering jerks. Eva collapsed on the couch and Lilith rose her head to gaze back at Adam. She had a calm, serene smile on her face. Lilith turned to Eva and lifted herself to move on top of her. She gave her lips a soft kiss and rested on top of her, asking her about it. That's when Adam saw it. Lilith's tail bone had grown a strange bump and was becoming slowly longer as he watched it. Up to that point Adam had convinced himself he had hallucinated Lilith, but he was certainly awake now, and this was stranger than even his dreams had been. What was she. Adam's blood ran cold. He didn't know whether he should be concerned for Eva, or what to even think of Lilith. Somehow, he felt no urge to move from where he was. He was still rock hard, despite now being at least as frightened as he was aroused. His last time with Lilith now finally made sense. Eva couldn't see it, with Lilith resting on top of her. As it lengthened the "tail" curled around underneath Lilith. He could see the surprised look on Eva's face as she felt something hard and solid against her pussy, but the look changed to one of pleasure as Lilith caressed Eva 's breast and kissed her again, all while her tail probed her pussy and clit. Lilith pushed it inside her and began thrusting her with it, and no time at all had Eva shuddering and, this time screaming, as she came, this one lasting longer than the first. Eva finally collapsed and stared, this time at Lilith, but Lilith just stood and smiled down at Eva, then slowly turned to stroll over to Adam. "Well, Adam," she said, kneeling as she talked, "I hope the show is to your liking." Adam smiled weakly and started to respond, but Lilith's taking his cock into her mouth turned his words into a lust-filled "Aaaaah." He rolled his head back and then looked back down at her. She was gazing right into his eyes as she sucked his cock and began rhythmically moving her mouth up and down on it. He worryingly eyed her tail, but saw it was receding back into her. Somehow it looked completely natural. Her sucking was so intense he could barely hold himself back and he started pushing against her, hoping, finally for release. She stopped and let go of his cock with a popping sound and looked around. "Well, Eva. Are you just going to watch the show, or are you going to help?" She grinned at Eva, and, not needing a second invitation, Eva came over and took her turn at sucking Adam off. Adam grabbed her hair and encouraged her as she grabbed his shaft to stoke it while she sucked. "Mmm, that looks pleasurable, but I was thinking something else, Eva." She looked down at her pussy and ran a finger over her slit. "Turnabout is fair play, don't you think.?" Eva looked at her, and slowly realized what she meant. "Oh." is all she said at first. "Um, sure, I guess." Eva hesitantly sat down and then, with Lilith's direction and, after a helpful pillow, lay flat with Lilith kneeling over her face. Hesitantly, Eva started licking her and exploring her pussy. Lilith moaned in appreciation and returned to Adam's cock, sucking him until Adam was again on the brink of coming, moving for Eva as she did so to increase help Eva to hit the right spot. She moaned into Adam's cock as she played with his balls. As he started to stiffen, Lilith slowed her sucking and stroking and looked up at him. "Oohh. God, Eva that feels good." Eva was rapidly licking Lilith's clit. Lilith closed her eyes, enjoying the attention. She had a hand still on Adam's cock, but lost interest for a moment as Eva brought her to a shuddering orgasm. Her body shook and jerked as she screamed in pleasure from Eva's licking. As she relaxed from the climax, she opend her eyes and caught Adam's gaze. "Oh, poor Adam. No one is paying any attention to him! How would you like to fuck me, Adam?" Adam just stared hungrily at her and then to Eva. Eva smiled back at him. "Okay, Adam, but I want to be on top. Lie down on the couch. Adam did as he was told and was followed Lilith who climbed on top of him and leaned over close to his face. "I think you're going to like this, Adam," she whispered to him as she reached underneath her and guided his cock to her opening. Then she started rocking on top of him and he was inside of her. Her pussy was pure pleasure. Liquid velvet, tight and grasping as she rocked on top of him. She was clearly enjoying it as well. "Ooh, Adam! That feels really good," she moved around a bit as she rocked, sitting up and slding her pelvis back. "Right there! Unnh!" She was now bouncing forcefully on top of him, her breasts, jiggling in front of him. He could especially feel her right at the top of the head of his cock. The sensation was unlike anything he had experienced. The visual stimuli of watching this woman, the feel of his cock inside of her, it was almost overwhelming. Adam, could feel his muscles begin to tense, and, finally, he knew, this was going to be it. A white light filled his head as he closed his eyes and he bellowed incoherently at the top of his lungs. He could feel himself shooting cum deep into Lilith, stroke after stroke, for so long, he felt like it would never stop. As he decreased in tempo, he felt a deep weariness overcome him and the light in his head turned dark. "Adam? Adam, you all right?" Adam opened his eyes and saw Eva on top of him, his cock still inside her. "Whew! Thought you had a heart attack there for a moment. You went completely limp!" Eva rolled off of him and stood up. Adam was completely bewildered. They were in the living room, but just the two of them. Where had Lilith gone? "Wow, that was amazing, Adam," said Eva. "I'm not sure I've ever seen you come so hard before!" Eva looked at him, a bit worriedly. Adam just stared back at her blankly, a weak smile on his face. Shrugging, she turned around and shuffled off, headed to the bathroom, before stopping and turning around. "Seriously, Adam, you all right? Can I get you something?" Adam just shook his head. She continued toward the bathroom and Adam ogled her, almost unconsciously, as he shook his head. Was that a bump on her tail bone? Miranda I don't really remember the trip to the hospital. I got all of that later. I woke up coughing, it got worse, finally I was coughing up blood. Usually this means the end in situations like mine, I have been ready for it for months, to be honest. Oxygen from somewhere, flat on my back plane ride to Boston, nurses everywhere. I think sometimes it is a disadvantage to have a bit of money and lots of help, I would have been pleased to just go this time around. When one is diagnosed as terminal, damn it, it should be! Bunch of crap still pegging along 20 months later...Oh well. I have a wife who will never give up. The family joke is if she ever got into a leg biting contest with a Grizzly Bear, sooner or later that Bear is gonna lose a leg! Tough on me though, I have to admit I want to give up..hard to understand, I know... So flat on my back, through the doors, time to do some more laser surgery, fix my lungs. Cool, I get another 10-12 weeks.. I think is is a pain in the ass to have to fly to Boston every 8 weeks or so, $20,000 down the tubes each time, for what? More time? All of us will be where I am sooner or later, the lucky ones will just go in their sleep. Guys like me have to fight, danged wife....she insists she will save me, I personally would like to be allowed to go as nature intended, I know that sounds strange. Get yourself in my position, it won't... I remember seeing Amanda as I was wheeled through the ER. Even sick as I was, the sight of her brought a minor erection. You would need to see Amanda to understand...... I was laying there flat on my back, coughing every few seconds, blood included, thinking about boffing this sweet young thing..I never lost my ability to get it up, I should have, but I didn't... I woke up feeling pretty damn good, I could breath, the coughing was gone. Doctor Hajjarri had burned out a growth that was trying to collapse my left lung, suddenly I was getting air again.. Hell! I felt great, I wanted to go bowling, I wanted to go fishing, I was even thinking of jetting over and riding the roller coaster..Well, not quite that good but relative to what I felt like just hours before, it was pretty much all right. Then Amanda came in with a tray of food, well, if you call it that. Some kind of Squash pasta, hell with it, I would eat Rats if I could look at Amanda! You really would need to see this woman, she was the type that in any room, anywhere, it was like she was in a spotlight standing out from the rest. The only other woman to ever affect me like that is my wife, Lee. She knew, no horsing around. She put her hand on my upper leg and told me she was my night shift nurse....I got a boner that would make the porno movies, nothing on this planet could stop that.. I heard a happy voice, and looked over to see Lee sitting there, grinning. "Looks like you are feeling better!" she said. Lee gave me a kiss, told me to get some sleep, and she would be back early in the morning. I glanced at a clock on the wall, it read 11:45, I didn't know if it was day or night. "Nearly midnight!" Lee said, reading my mind. Lee looked back at me as she went through the door, I really wanted her to stay but I knew she had been up for nearly 36 hours. She gave me a smile, and left. I turned my attention back to Amanda, still sitting on the edge of my bed, her hand still on my upper leg. I was thinking that it was odd that she was just sitting there, I couldn't remember a Nurse doing that before. I was also thinking I wanted her hand to move just a few inches higher. I was trying to come up with a cute comment when the medicine kicked in, and I was asleep. It must have been about 4 hours later, I was asleep, Amanda came in. Her touching my arm woke me, just a few pills. I smiled, she smiled, and asked how was I feeling? I told her lots better now that she was here, and I was rewarded by that sweet smile again. Amanda told me that if I needed anything, anything at all, just push the button..She looked directly into my eyes as she said that, the invitation was obvious. I waited just 20 minutes.. Amanda came in, "What do you need?" she asked, her smile expecting the answer. "I need someone to take care of this for me!" I said, waving my hand at the obvious. Amanda smiled the same smile, drew curtains around the bed, and came over to me. . "I know, just let me!" she said.. I just lay there as she rubbed my legs, then my chest, I was basking in the feeling. In short order, she ran her hands into my balls, then up and over me! "God, I love this!" she said, as she stroked my erection, slowly, using a squeeze then a soft touch, then another squeeze. I watched her expression as she stared at my cock, feeling and rubbing it with pleasure. I could not stop, I erupted almost instantly! She did not change other than to slow her strokes, then a squeeze, then a few more strokes, damn! I blew again, more powerful, she didn't stop, she teased, some more strokes, now firmly, then softly, then firm and a huge squeeze just as I came for the third time! Too soon all was quiet, I had almost passed out, this lady knew all about Extended Sexual Orgasm... I was flat on my back, I never touched her. Probably I could have, but didn't for some reason. I had as high a level of pleasure from her hands than I had even with my wife, and that is something I could describe but no one would believe. I knew I wanted to feel that experience again, so I asked her bluntly.."Come back tomorrow?" Her answer surprised me, she said, "No! Next trip back, no more this trip. I want you to remember, next time will be even better..." I thought about that the rest of the 5 days I spent there..different nurses came and went, none appealed to me except for one that was a bit on the chubby side. I think her name was Kathie, I teased her a bit and got a few blushes, but even though she showed interest she never really did anything. I never saw Amanda..Then as we were leaving, she appeared.. "Come back to see me!" Was all she said...I know she knew I would like that. Then Lee wheeled me out to the car. I loaded into the chair at the airport for the trip down the ramp to the airplane. I thought about a lot of things. The one silly thing that popped to mind was I got my choice of seats, first one on the plane! I thought about Amanda, I already pretty much knew I would never see her again... I don't need to, I have Lee..... * * * * * Lee: I suppose this isn't very erotic, Ted really didn't even intend it to be. It just happened, I know for a fact since he told me about it on the plane ride home. What he didn't know is I asked Amanda to take care of him. A simple conversation between me, a Doctor, and a good RN. There are a lot of things that go on inside hospital walls that aren't talked about. I thought of going back and trying to spice this up, but then it would be from me, not from Ted. So other than fixing some typos and connecting a few parts, this is just the way he left it in his notebook. This was just a moment between two people, a gift of pleasure if you will. That simple, so easy, so normal. If there is one thing I have learned from my man, sexuality and pleasure between two people has no stigma attached. It is a gift with no need for shame to be involved. If you read his stories, you will find between the lines a strong yet gentle man, who understood about the truths of human beings. He broke "rules" because he knew the rules were wrong! There are 3 stories left in Ted's notebook. 2 are pretty much done, one I will need to work on. I will offer them for publishing and use Ted's ID so those of you who liked his works can find it. Thank you. Lee * * * * * I am really sorry to inform the readers that Ted (magichands) passed quietly in his sleep 10/23 of heart failure due to complications of Cancer. This story and a few others were either pending or unfinished in his notebook files. I will finish and submit the remainder when time allows. Lee Miranda "Ah, damnit," I cursed under my breath at the computer screen. I was playing a game of solitaire and I was performing rather poorly. As I moved the mouse pointer over to a set of cards to deal a new set of three cards, there was a knock on my door. "Come in," I said without looking to see who it was. I didn't need to look. "Lostprophets again?" She crinkled her nose at my taste in music. At least, I pictured her crinkling her nose. I still hadn't turned my attention away from my monitor, but I knew her well enough to guess her facial expressions fairly accurately. "What can I say? I just love their songs. You should read some of their lyrics. It might change your mind about the music I listen to. It's actually pretty deep stuff," I replied as I stretched my arms over my head and leaned back. I looked back at her as I felt my back pop. From my viewpoint she was upside down and I could see something was different about her. "You cut your hair." She ran a hand through her blonde bob. Just the other day it had been past her shoulders, but now it barely reached her chin. "You like it? My mom went nuts, but Dave seemed to like it." "Of course Dave liked it. The boy worships the ground you walk upon," I turned back to my computer screen and said a silent curse to myself when I saw the next set of cards the program had dealt me. She walked over and flopped down on my couch, casually picking up my most recent copy of Game Informer magazine. "Well, he is my little brother, but I still value his opinion," she replied flipping through the pages. "You still haven't told me if you like it." "I like it. It suits you," I answered without looking away. "That's it? It suits me?" She sat up and moved up to the edge of the couch. "Well, what did you want me to say? That I found you ravishing?" I looked over at her and gave her one of my patented grins. By this point, I had given up on my game of Solitaire figuring that the game had it out for me and I wouldn't be winning any games today. She grinned and flopped backwards on the couch again. "Well, that would be a start. I'd prefer 'sexy.'" "So would I, but you don't hear me bitching about it," I teased. I closed the program and returned to a word document that I had abandoned earlier that afternoon in favor of my futile attempt to win at least one game. "Oh, what are you working on?" She leaned forward again and I noticed her hair falling forward with her. It framed her cheeks and I noticed how her brown eyes contrasted sharply with the yellow tones of her hair. Her new haircut was sexy. I shrugged my shoulders and scratched my right eyebrow taking pains not to disturb the silver hoop that pierced my skin there. "It's nothing much. Just some silly old story." She moved closer to get a better look at the screen and caught a light scent of her perfume. The smell reminded me of apples. "Is it one of those stories?" She rested her chin on my left shoulder and read the text on the screen. I laughed and shook my head. "No, but I have a rough draft of a new one if you want to read it later. I can e-mail it to you tonight." "That'd be cool," she replied sitting back on the couch. "It's a shame that someone with your talent should waste it on such filth," she said in a sarcastic tone. I stuck my tongue out at her. I knew she was really a fan of my writing, especially my erotic literature. She was the first and only person I had ever let read everything I wrote. She always gave constructive criticism and even honestly told me when a story wasn't any good. I suppose if writers have groupies, she was my first official groupie. "That filth as you put it has kept you warm many a night," I joked and then dodged a light slap on the head from her. She flopped back on the couch once more and went back to flipping through my magazine. "What's so great about video games?" "They give me time to think and they're great for inspiration sometimes." She raised an eyebrow at me and then turned the magazine around to show me a picture of a female character in some new video game. "Yeah, 'inspiration.'" She made quotation marks with her fingers when she said "inspiration." I stood up from my chair and stretched once more. I took the magazine from her and looked at the article. "You know I don't play fighting games. I'm more of an RPG person or platform games." "Sure, sure, whatever you say. You can't tell me that you haven't at least looked at this magazine and thought about writing a story about a girl with huge boobs." I tossed the magazine back at her and turned around to go back towards my bedroom. "I guess you'll never know for sure," I said slyly as I closed the door. I glanced at the clock as I searched for a clean pair of jeans. "You know it's nearly one and you're still in your pajama bottoms," she shouted from the couch as if reading my mind. I didn't say anything and just smiled as I pulled a black long sleeved shirt over my head. I had thought of replying with a smart comment about her helping me get dressed, but figured the moment had passed. I ran a hairbrush through my hair after putting on my jeans and headed back into the living room. I heard the refrigerator door open followed by the sounds of her searching my cabinets for a glass. About thirty seconds later she emerged with a glass of orange juice in her hand and I noticed her nails had been recently manicured. The tops of her nails were white and the entire nail shined almost unnaturally. "Your cupboard is looking mighty bare Mother Hubbard," she joked. "I was going to run to the grocery store today. Care to join me?" I grabbed my license and some cash from the coffee table and stuffed them in my back pocket. "Well, it's not the exciting adventure I was hoping to go on today, but I've got nothing better to do." "I'll cook dinner for you," I offered. I knew she didn't mind going with me. "OK, that's fair enough payment," she paused and then added, "as long as it's not frozen waffles again." "No, I was thinking grilled chicken breast with some roasted veggies." "Sounds yummy. Can we have some wine too? Oh, and candle light?" She was joking around now. "Yes, whatever it takes to shut you up," I grabbed her arm and gently led her out the door. She blew a raspberry at me and walked outside. I locked the door behind me and turned around quickly, bumping into her accidentally. "Oh, sorry about that," I said not immediately stepping away. Her face was directly in front of mine and I looked her in the eyes for a moment before turning away and stepping to the side. There was an awkward moment of silence before she said, "My fault, I was standing too close. I was just admiring the blue sky." I looked up and understood why she had been admiring it. There wasn't a cloud to be seen anywhere. A light breeze wafted over us and I realized that this was the perfect spring day you always read about but rarely ever see. I was about to ask her if she wanted to go to the park today as well, but she grabbed my hand and pulled me towards my car. "Come on," she said impatiently. "I'm coming, I'm coming," I replied hurriedly. I hit the unlock button on my keyless entry and she went around to the passenger side. I took one last look at the sky before opening my door and hopping into my seat. I grabbed a random CD and put it in the CD player before putting the car in gear and heading towards the store. I noticed she was just watching the scenery pass by. When we passed by my favorite deli she asked, "Have you eaten yet?" "No, why?" I stopped at a red light and looked over at her to see her grinning back at me. I sighed in mock aggravation, "Fine, I'll take you out for lunch too." She giggled and said, "You spoil me." She hugged my arm and rested her head on my shoulder. Once again I was reminded of apples and I also smelled wildflowers. I realized her perfume was mixing in with the smell of her shampoo. I suddenly wished I had worn short sleeves so that I could feel her hair against my skin. I sighed wistfully and she suddenly sat up and returned to her side of the car. "Sorry," she replied. "Was I interfering with your driving?" "Huh? Oh, no, not at all." I put on a false smile as I felt a pang of sadness hit my gut. I found a parking space close to the entrance and got out of the car. We made our orders. I had my usual turkey club and she ordered a roast beef. We got our drinks while we waited for our sandwiches to be made. I could tell she had something on her mind. She didn't say anything to me and just sipped her soda through a thin red straw. She tapped her neatly manicured nails on the table rapidly. She never had much patience when it came to food. "Penny for your thoughts?" I looked up at her face and for the first time that day I noticed she was wearing a very light layer of makeup. "Oh, uh, it's nothing really. I just have a lot on my mind today," she answered as she tucked some hair behind her right ear. I raised an eyebrow at her, but didn't ask any other questions. She'd probably tell me what was on her mind that evening. She perked up some when our sandwiches came to the table. I noticed the waitress giving me a funny look and then walking away. "I think she recognized you," I heard her say to me. "Nah, she doesn't look like the type that would read my material," I looked back over at her now devouring her roast beef sandwich. "You didn't have breakfast did you?" "Neither did you," she replied with her mouth full. "That's because I slept in until noon," I said bluntly. She giggled a little and took another sip of her soda. She looked back over at our waitress. "She keeps looking over here. I'm telling you she recognizes you." I glanced back over to my right. Sure enough the waitress met my gaze and quickly turned away. "Maybe you're right." I shrugged and returned to my own sandwich. We ate silently for the next two minutes. She had finished about half of her sandwich when she looked over at me. She had a serious expression on her face that was out of character for her. "I read a new review on Amazon yesterday." I swallowed the food I had in my mouth. "You know I don't take those reviews seriously. Mostly its uneducated teenagers who think its funny to use foul language every other word." "I think you'd like this one. It was quite a favorable review done by someone who claimed to be a newspaper journalist. He's eagerly anticipating a sequel I think is what he said." She picked up her sandwich and took another bite. "So is my publisher," I joked. "You know not all your good reviews have to come from the New York Times," she admonished. "By the way, how is the writing going? Are you going to make your deadline?" My mouth was full, so I just nodded my head. "I'll be sending Bill the first draft some time next week. Depends on if I get anything done this weekend." She smiled broadly. "That's great! I think they're really going to love this book. Well, better than the first one I mean." "I hope so or else I'll be working here for a living instead of sitting on my butt all day coming up character ideas." I wiped my mouth off with a napkin before taking a sip of my root beer. She put down her sandwich and looked at me seriously again. I met her gaze and cocked my head at her. "Can I ask you something Stace?" "Stace" was her little nickname for me. I nodded my head, "Shoot." She took a rather big sip of her soda and looked up at me. "Where do you get your inspiration from?" "Oh, the usual. Nature, music, movies, other books...but then you know this already." "Yeah, that's where you get your plot ideas, but what about characters? You never have really told me where their personalities come from." She just stared at me waiting for an answer. I knew what she was hinting at, but I didn't want to have that discussion here. Actually I don't think it mattered where we were. I didn't want to have this discussion, period. "Oh, well, most of my characters are just splinters of my own personality. Most of them are wildly exaggerated of course." "What about Miranda?" She hadn't looked away from me once since she had asked the initial question. She just had to ask about Miranda. Now I knew I didn't want to have this conversation with her. I sighed and looked to my left where there was a window. I noticed an older gentleman shuffling along the sidewalk slowly. He bent over to pick up a coin off the ground and went back to shuffling. "Well?" She grabbed my hand and shook it gently. I turned back to look at her. Miranda was supporting character in my first published book. That book was the reason I was able to pay for the lunch we were eating and the reason I could afford to live in the suburbs now. That book had brought me fame, fortune, and my dream come true of being a published author. For all the good it had done me, it wasn't going to buy me a way out of this conversation. She squeezed my hand and I looked up at her. "Sometimes I base characters on people I know, and I guess Miranda is an example of that." "So, who did you base her on?" "You know the answer to this question, so why are you asking?" "Maybe because I want to hear it from you." "Melissa, this isn't going to change anything between us. I know that and you know that. We've been through this before so why go over it again?" Finally, she looked away from me and down at her plate. "Because you hadn't written a book about it before," she muttered. I was about to ask another question, probably the wrong question to ask, when our waitress appeared out of nowhere. She turned to me and I saw that she was holding a copy of my book. I saw my own face smiling back at me on the back cover next to a little blurb about the book. "I'm sorry, but I just had to come over and make sure it was you. I have to say that I love your book! I told Irene you were a regular here, but she didn't believe me! Would it be too much to ask for an autograph?" I forced a smile. "Sure, I'll sign your book. Do you have a pen?" I took the book and a pen from her hand and opened the front cover. I looked back up at her and noticed she was probably in her mid-fifties or early sixties. Her black hair was tied behind her in a bun. The color was obviously not her own and the hair appeared to have the texture of pine straw. "Who do you want me to sign it to?" "Dorothy please," she answered politely. She placed her hands in front of her and she seemed very excited. I was probably the closest she'd ever come to celebrity and to say that I was a celebrity was an overstatement. As I scribbled some stupid little note about enjoying hearing from my fans, I wondered what a woman like Dorothy saw in my book. Maybe she didn't realize the lead character was a lesbian who fell in love with a woman she could never have. Then again, maybe she was gay herself. Or maybe she didn't understand symbolism. When I handed the book back to her, she thanked me and asked if there was going to be a sequel. I told her that there was a second book being published in the next few months. She then added, "Oh good. I keep hoping that Joy will find some nice young man to settle down with." I held back a laugh and I heard Melissa nearly choke on her sandwich. "Well you'll just have to read to find out what happens." I guess she didn't understand symbolism after all. Melissa and I managed to make it out to our car before we both broke into uncontrollable laughter. "I really hope Joy finds a nice man," she imitated Dorothy as best she could. I laughed at her impersonation and became thankful that she had forgotten about our earlier conversation. I was just hoping we could get through the grocery store without her remembering it. The shopping was uneventful. I let her pick out what vegetables she wanted and I selected the wine. While I was browsing over the chicken breasts, she stood close to me and whispered, "I still want to finish our conversation." I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. So she hadn't forgotten after all. "Fine," I said rather harshly. If she wanted to destroy our friendship once and for all I wasn't going to stop her, but I wasn't going to make it easy for her. She was going to have to be the one to fire the fatal shot. We didn't say another word to each other until we reached my apartment. I think she knew it was better not to ask me anything else until we were behind closed doors. Once inside, I immediately headed for my kitchen and began to prepare what would probably be our final meal together. "Mind if I go ahead and break into the wine?" She entered the kitchen holding the bottle. "It's not chilled yet, but if you want to go ahead. Corkscrew is in its usual place," I said over my shoulder, not bothering to look at her. After a couple of seconds of silence I added, "I could use a drink." She carefully pulled the cork from the bottle and poured two glasses. She brought me my glass and handed it to me while I chopped up some onions and squash. "So, did you base Miranda on me?" She never had much patience when it came to me either. I took a large gulp of wine. "Yes." "Why? Is it because of what happened between us?" She hopped up and sat on the counter to the left of me. She took a small sip of her wine. "What do you think?" I angrily chopped the onion in front of me. I hoped she wouldn't mind diced onions. "I don't know what to think. I thought you were finally OK with things, but after reading your book and the new manuscript I wonder if you really are." She started tapping the wine glass with those polished nails I had admired earlier. Now, they were starting to annoy me. "What's wrong? Afraid your mother might figure out who Miranda is based on? Afraid that when the second book comes out and Miranda and Joy get together she might learn that her little girl fucked a dyke?" The onions were now minced and I noticed my hand was shaking. "No! Any way, we both agreed that night was a mistake. I was drunk, and...well, it shouldn't have happened!" Melissa jumped off the counter and turned away from me. She was crying, but she didn't want me to see it. "No, you agreed that it was a mistake. I thought it was a great experience and so did you at first. And you were not drunk. That was just some excuse you came up with so that your fellow Jesus freaks would feel sorry for you!" I felt my face grow hot and I knew that somewhere deep inside of me a dam had burst. Two years worth of repressed anger and pain were spewing out of me and Melissa was getting the brunt of it. She turned around and I could see the streaks on her cheeks where her tears had washed away some of her makeup. "Fuck you!" She was screaming and I figured the neighbors might have heard, but I didn't give a damn. "No, we already did that, or did you forget? It was easy for you to just use me to try a woman on for size since your boyfriend was treating you like shit. You never cared that I fell in love with you. You knew how easy it would be to get me to sleep with you and when you didn't like your friends' reactions to me, you dumped me." I hardly noticed that my voice had cracked and that my hand was cramping from holding onto the knife too tightly. She seemed surprised by what I had said. She opened her mouth and tried to speak, but seemingly couldn't find her voice. Finally she whispered, "I never meant to use you." "But you knew I was in love with you...I still am." I stared at her. For a fleeting moment I thought she might kiss me or tell me she loved me too like it always happens in the movies. Instead, she just set her glass down on the counter. "I thought I was in love with you too, but..." she stopped as a couple of tears rolled down her face and fell to the floor. Miranda "But you weren't. Yes, you told me over and over again. You still want to be my friend that you want to hang out with me and still critique my writing. We've been over this already." "I thought...I thought you were OK with everything," she whispered and wiped another tear away before it could fall onto the floor and join the other two. "You only thought that because you were OK with everything," I answered. "I honestly wondered how long it would take you to figure it out. The reason I agreed to remain friends with you was because I foolishly hoped you might change your mind. It was a stupid hope as a few of my friends told me, but when you started holding my hand in public and cuddling with me during movies I thought maybe they were wrong. I guess now I know." She looked into my eyes and could tell what was happening. "We can still be friends can't we?" I sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "You don't get it do you? No, we can't be friends. At least not as long as I love you like I do. It's too much for me to take. I'm sorry, but unless you can return the same love I feel for you..." I paused. "It's over." "Well then, I guess I should go," she said in a hoarse voice. "Yes, you should." I knew I was being overly harsh, but at the time I was running on pure anger and could only register my emotions. She turned around and headed for my door. She looked back at me once and said "Good-bye." I could tell she was waiting for me to stop her, to tell her I was sorry, but it wasn't going to happen. "Good-bye," I said. She turned away and shut the door behind her. I picked up my wine glass and threw it against the wall in anger. I threw the still uncooked chicken and vegetables in the fridge and retreated to my bathroom. I turned on the shower, making sure it was very hot and stood under the steady stream of water for a good five minutes before the tears finally came. I sobbed loudly and for a long time. I leaned against the wall for support and even banged my fist against it before sliding down and sitting on the floor of the shower stall. My body shook violently with each breath as I continued to sob. Once the tears had subsided for a moment or two, I washed my hair and rinsed it. I turned off the shower and toweled myself off. I got dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and decided that before another crying spell hit me that I would go to my favorite bar. It didn't matter who she was. I just needed a warm body next to me that night. If I couldn't have Melissa, I was going to have someone. It was after a couple of shots of vodka that I met Jenny. She was a gorgeous redhead, and had I been interested in something other than a one-night stand, I might have actually abstained from taking her to my bed that night. We never made love for the two months I kept her around. It was merely fucking to me, and sometimes I was pretty rough with her. Maybe I was taking my anger at Melissa out on her, but she didn't seem to care as long as I made her breakfast in the morning. By the time my second book came out, I was pretty much over Melissa. At least, I thought so. I realized that it still hurt to think about her when I fan asked me at a book signing if I based my characters on people I knew. Hearing that question forced me to remember that day at my apartment. I was even tempted to try to contact Melissa, but I decided against it. Maybe she'll contact me one day or maybe she's already forgotten about me. I don't really think about it too much. At least Miranda is still making me money. Miranda (Hi, this is my second story. There is a long build up which I hope is interesting, sexy, and enjoyable but, if you want to go straight to the sex, it starts about half way. The story is the first part of a trilogy. The second part is nearly finished, the third - well it's in my head! Same comments as for Caroline. Although Miranda is completely fictional her description and clothing is based on that of a lovely woman whose site can be found on line.) I've been surfing the Internet for several years now, shopping, travel, all the usual things, but most of the time I look for porn. A widower then and living alone, I found some release in looking at the wonderful women you can find on line. I've never hooked up with anyone in this way, I suppose that since loosing Kate I don't really have the courage but one particular aspect of porn on the web has always intrigued me. These are the MILF sites. There are several, all purporting to approach older women cold on the streets and convince them to come back to a hotel room, house, or something similar, and screw. Sometimes even as far as anal sex, usually portrayed as 'their first anal'. This last always interests me more than most because I am a devout 'arse' man, loving the female derriere above all else. Now, of course, I realise that some of the women they 'meet' are already quite well known in the adult industry: Vicky Vette comes to mind immediately (well often really - she is bloody gorgeous). So, obviously, many of the 'meetings' are set up. I don't mind that really, much of sex is in the mind anyway and the situation can have a tremendous effect on the enjoyment, so I still enjoy the scenes. But, and it is a big but, are any of the meetings real? Is it really possible to approach a mature woman, probably married with kids, completely cold and end up shagging her in every possible way: and on film? Are there any women out there who would do that, particularly in England where I live? I decided, after much contemplation, that the only way I could find out was to try it myself. I would either get my face slapped, strike it lucky, or waste a lot of time, and time I had plenty. I'm semi-retired you see, in my early fifties, not to bad looking and fairly fit. I'm also lucky, I have plenty of money and a big house all to myself. I decided I would be a 'photographer' photographing mature women for general pictures in catalogues to add some glamour. I'd say that I photographed dresses, shoes, and some lingerie, and that I paid by the hour. I honestly didn't think that "Hello, fancy a fuck?" would actually work in the streets of an English shopping centre so I had to have some sort of routine. I didn't think it would be possible, either, to find a woman who would drop everything on her first visit so I thought that it would be a long term operation. I suspected that, even if some of the 'pick-ups' on the MILF sites were real, they were much more drawn out than portrayed on screen. I set one of my spare bedrooms, one that had an en-suite, as a photographic studio. Lights, cameras, boards, all the sorts of things one would expect because I would take photos of the women - if I was lucky enough to get one to play ball! I turned the en-suite into a private dressing room, keeping the shower and toilet. One wall of the bedroom was wardrobe in which I would keep the things for each (would there be more than one?) lady to wear. I would ask them to bring certain things as well. I thought that would make it seem more genuine. So, all prepared with special cards I'd printed, I ventured into a town centre a few miles away. My plan was to just stand and look until I saw a likely lady. I didn't expect that I'd find someone who looked like Sophia Loren but I was concerned that they be reasonably attractive and, because I worship the female arse, had to have a good one! My target age group was between 35 and 45 although it is difficult nowadays to accurately judge a woman's age so I wasn't to bothered if they fell outside that. I also decided that she would have to be on her own when I approached. It didn't matter if she had kids but I couldn't see how I could talk to her properly while she worried about them if they were with her. So, on a Saturday morning, I took up my spot and waited. I must say that this is a pleasant pastime. I never cease to be amazed at the variety of beautiful women of all ages who grace our streets. It wasn't very long before I spotted a likely candidate. She seemed about 35. About 5'8" tall with long blonde hair. Although she was wearing a coat she seemed to have a nice figure and a nice face, not beautiful but pretty and her walk was sexy. I thought that there might be something slightly foreign about her. She didn't seem to be in a hurry and that was important as she would probably have time to speak to me. I turned after her as she entered a shop and waited outside. As she came out I took a deep breath, gathered my courage, and approached her. I said, with my biggest smile, "Hi, I wonder if I could steal a moment of your time?" Well, surprisingly enough most people are quite willing to give a little time, so she turned, smiled shyly back and said, "OK, but not too long. What's it about?" I smiled back, trying to sooth her, "Well," I said, "I don't want you to buy anything and I don't want your opinion, I just want to tell you what I do." "OK," she said, easier now. "OK," I said taking a card from my clipboard and moving us out of the main stream of shoppers. "This is my card. Mike Prentiss. I'm a photographer. I photograph older women for catalogues, magazines, some internet sites. Mainly dresses, shoes, and occasionally, lingerie." I smiled at her again, appraising her with my eyes, "I'm always on the look out for," I stopped to think then smiled at her, "how can I say this? More mature women who still retain their allure. No 18 year old skinnies," I joked. She looked at me and smiled, "And I'm 'more mature'?" she said. "Oh dear, that didn't come out right did it?" I replied knowing, of course, that it wouldn't. "I'll try again," I said with a laugh. "I'm looking for an attractive woman who won't see 30 again." I bent forward and said, conspirationally, "You certainly are attractive and, while I don't want to be insulting, I suspect you've passed 25!" She laughed, "You certainly have the gift of the gab," she said. "No, I won't see 25 again, that's for sure." I knew she was interested, however, because she was engaging in repartee with me. At least I was at base one. Perhaps it was possible? "OK," I said pressing on. "This is what I do. I provide most of the clothes, shoes, etc., and I take the photos and sell them on to the users. They like new faces all the time and they like amateurs." I smiled, "Amateurs are more natural I find and seem to enjoy it more. I might ask a model to bring a few things of her own but generally I'll provide everything." Now she looked doubtful. Perhaps I was pushing too hard. Time to back off. "Look," I said, "you've got my card. I work on weekdays, during the day so, if you're married hubby doesn't need to know if you don't want him to, and I pay quite well. I can also work around school times if necessary." This raised her interest. "How much?" she asked. Great, perhaps I'd got her now. I'd thought for a long time about how much to pay. I didn't know how much models were paid for modelling but I felt that, in the case of my experiment, I shouldn't offer to much. That might get them thinking there was more to it. I could offer more later for different shots but, at the start, I thought, keep it reasonable. "I pay £35 per hour plus expenses and, if I sell the photo sets, 25% of everything I earn from them. Sometimes that can be quite a lot depending on the photos themselves and the buyer." I could see her mulling this over in her head so, time to withdraw, not seem too eager. "Well," I said, "thanks for your time . . . errr . . .," I looked at her, eyebrows raised. "Oh, Miranda," she said. "Hi Miranda," I smiled at her, "thanks for your time. Take my card away and think about it. I'm in most days so you're sure to reach me." She looked up and smiled. She had nice eyes. I like nice eyes. They were brown so she might not be a natural blonde. Perhaps I'd find out! "OK," she said, "bye." So saying she picked up her bag and off she went. I stepped back out of the flow. Well, that didn't go too badly, I thought. She's got my card, she seemed slightly interested. I might get lucky. I had determined that, if I got someone to take my card I'd leave it at that. Not try anyone else for a week or two. I could only cope with one at a time really so now I had a coffee then sauntered off home. I wasn't sure how I felt. At least she'd spoken to me and she'd given me her name so I thought it might work. I must admit to some excitement as well - my very own MILF! The next few days went quite slowly and every time the phone rang my heart bumped just a bit faster. Nothing happened, however, until the following Saturday. It was a miserable day so I didn't bother to go out. I was pottering about in the studio when the phone rang. "Hi," I said. "Hi," said a female voice. "Hello," I said. A question in my voice. "Hello," she said, "is that Mike Prentiss?" "Speaking," I said, "is that Miranda?" I was guessing but, if it was her, she might be impressed that I remembered her name. "Yes, it is," she said, "Hi." "Hello Miranda. What can I do for you?" I said heart in my mouth. "I was wondering if we could meet for a coffee in the town. You could tell me some more about your photography. I might be interested." My heart was pumping now but I had to sound calm. "Sure," I said, "where and when?" "How about Costa Coffee in about half an hour?" "Sounds good to me. I'll see you there. Bye." "Bye," she said and I almost whooped for joy. I was getting to stage two - she was interested. Still a long way to go but, boy, was this exciting. I was living my own personal MILF hunt! Hopping in the car, I was in the café in twenty minutes. She was there. I assumed she used a mobile from the café. I walked across to her table, "Can I get you another?" "Mmm, yes please," she said, "cappuccino." Arriving back with the coffees, I sat opposite her. She seemed to have more make-up on than I remembered, her hair was different, and, although wrapped up against the rainy weather, she did have something about her. "I was thinking," she said, "I could use a bit of extra money. How much work would there be?" "I don't really know at the start," I said, "but the minimum would be 3 or 4 days, say 20 hours or so. That's what I'd need to put together your portfolio." I could see her totting this up, it was £700 after all and not to be sneezed at. "What would I have to do?" she asked. "Basically you just wear the clothes and I photograph you. I'll get you to pose in different attitudes but that's all there is to it." "That seems OK. What do I do now?" "Well," I said, "I need your dress and shoe size then I can make sure I've got the right gear for you. Perhaps you could bring some jeans, nice and tight preferably," I added in passing, "and, if you've got some, a pair of high heels. They are more difficult to get without the appropriate foot," I ended laughing. "OK," she said. "Do I have a proper changing room?" she asked, again looking directly at me. I smiled, "Off course, with a shower and make-up facilities. I'm sure you want to look your best." She smiled, "Mmm, yes if you're going to take photos of me." She took a deep breath. "OK," she said, "I'll do it." She looked at me shyly, "I've never been to another man's house on my own before. This is new to me." I smiled softly and said, with as much sincerity as I could manage, "You have nothing to worry about. Everything will be above board and everything will be done with your agreement. OK?" Well, it would wouldn't it. There was no way I wanted to fuck her if she didn't agree. I don't think she realised the full import of what I said, just that she had to agree, so she seemed happy. "When are you available?" I asked. "How about Monday morning, say 10 o'clock?" "Sounds fine. Look, I'll need your size," I laughed, "I'm not very good at guessing." She laughed back and told me. "Shall I pick you up?" I asked. She seemed nervous, "No, errr, yes but not from home. I'll meet you outside M. & S., side entrance." "OK," I said sure now that she didn't want her husband to know. I was surprised, however, at her apparent lack of forward thinking. If I was going to take pictures of her, even completely innocent pictures, I would have a lever against her wouldn't I. And, if the pictures got more, interesting shall we say, I'd have an even bigger lever - not that I wanted to force her that way. That was cheating wasn't it. I wanted her to give herself freely like the MILF's on the internet apparently did. I spent the rest of the afternoon stocking the wardrobe with dresses, shoes, and lingerie - some from Anne Summers. I hoped that I might just get her into that some time in the future. I arrived promptly at 10 aware that I couldn't wait because of the cops but she wasn't there. Shit, I thought, so I drove round the block and saw, with a huge sigh of relief, that she had arrived. It was a lovely morning so no coat now. She was wearing jeans, tight jeans at that, and she had a marvellous arse! Her figure was trim, not too narrow at the waist and with a nice flair at the hip. I parked alongside her and opened the window. Now I do have rather a nice car. It's an old Jaguar limousine, very impressive with leather seats and full mod cons. To be frank, it's my pride and joy! Well it is along with my XK120! She was obviously impressed as she got in and looked around. I could tell, however, that she was nervous. "I'm sorry. I'm a bit nervous" she said noticing me looking at her, "but I haven't done anything like this before." I smiled, "You're not doing anything really, are you. Just some modelling to earn a few pounds. Anyway," I said, "nervous or not, you look very fetching this morning." That made her smile, "Well," she said, "that sounds like a complement but I don't know what 'fetching' means." "It means 'very attractive, charming, captivating' and it fits." Now she was embarrassed. I was sure by now that she wasn't used to being complemented. "Now you've embarrassed me," she said with a shy smile. "I don't get called 'captivating' very often." "Well you should do," I said and, do you know, I meant it because she was quite attractive. Certainly so to me. Shoulder length hair, lovely brown eyes, a trim figure with a gorgeous bottom, and long legs. She may not be your Claudia Schiffer but she would do! Do very well!! We chatted on the way back to my place and I tried to calm her nerves a little. I found out she was 38, although she certainly didn't look it, and had been married for nearly 20 years. From her tone I suspected that all may not have been well with her marriage. She was rather dismissive of her husband although she certainly didn't want him to know about her modelling. She had two kids, both grown up. One at university and one at home working. She must have had her children when she was very young. She relaxed quite a lot as we got home. I told her that my wife had died some years ago and I lived alone. The latter didn't seem to bother her. I honestly don't think she saw any of the possibilities that were unfolding before her or the dangers into which she could have been walking. I suppose she was rather naïve really but, as far as I could make out at this time, although she might not be that happily married, she was reasonably content and, as she didn't flirt at all, I assumed that she wasn't flighty. She seemed impressed by the house and, to calm her down, I made her some coffee before we went upstairs. This was a crucial time. I wanted to make her feel at ease with the house, the studio, and with me so my approach had to be professional. My aim was to lead her on a little way at a time, dresses, shoes, perhaps a swimming costume, then ordinary underwear, followed by finally, lingerie. I had lingerie of all types from straightforward bedroom wear to the really kinky Anne Summers stuff, split crotch, fishnet body stocking, built in stimulators, and the like. Some of it was bloody sexy but I was not going to rush this. The main problem I had was myself. This was so, so exciting, exhilarating even. Here I was doing exactly what they did on the MILF sites, a bit slower I know, but this was REAL. A real woman, an ordinary woman not an adult movie star pretending. These feelings were difficult to control, well JT was difficult to control! Look, I didn't often in those days get a woman back to my house. Well, to tell the truth, the only time I did was when I arranged for an 'escort' to visit. I found that I needed that release and, by and large, I had a good time with them. I always used the same agency and the girls got to know me. They knew that their bottoms would get considerable attention but they also knew that I was generous and thought of their pleasure as well. I saw a couple of them several times. They were expensive but worth it for someone in my position. This was different. I knew that the agency girls were amenable to all kinds of sex, anal in particular because they knew before they came that that was what I wanted. In Miranda's case it was back to the 'chase' I suppose; courting, 'chatting up'. Much more exciting! So the old sperm injector was reacting as you would expect and that was the last thing I wanted her to notice, certainly not now. It was in my plans that she'd notice later but it was too early now so I wore very tight underpants and kept my mind clean. "What sort of things will I wear?" she asked tentatively. I smiled, "We'll go upstairs in a while and you can see. One wall of the studio is wardrobe and all the clothes are in there. I've got a few I'd like you to wear but you can choose some others if you want." I looked at her approvingly, "You may feel more attractive in some than others." I had the clothes segregated, as it were. Dresses, from full evening to loose summer, in one compartment together with shoes and some very sexy boots. A few more daring outfits in the next together with normal underwear and swimsuits and, in the last compartment, lingerie from the reasonably tame to the downright erotic. My idea was to let her see them and for her to raise the issue of wearing them and possibly being photographed. I intended to raise the hourly rate as she wore more daring things until finally, I hoped anyway, I could get her to pose naked and then do some 'glamour' shots. After that; well I could dream couldn't I? She smiled back as I complemented her and said, "How do you know what to photograph me in?" "Well," I said making it up as I went along, "basically I know the catalogues that will use shots of a lovely woman like you," she smiled and nodded at me, "and I know the clothes they would like to see you wearing. Those are the things I buy when I know your size." "Oh, you buy them do you?" I laughed, "Yes, I'm afraid they won't let me have them on spec so I have to. I usually let my models keep them if they like them." "That's nice," she said, "shall we start now. I have to be back by 4 o'clock," she added nervously. "Sure," I said and we went upstairs. I let her spend the next half an hour just getting to know the dressing room and the studio. I showed her the compartment with ordinary dresses and just opened the second one to give her a glimpse. More of that on later visits. I set the cameras up. The still shot was a digital system with the computer connected in the corner so I could see the frame on a monitor. Another monitor would allow Miranda to see herself. I also had a digital video camera set up in the same way as well and could use both together or singly. The monitor gives great control over the shot that way and, and this was important, Miranda could see herself as the camera saw her. I thought that the camera itself might help to seduce her as I was hoping that she would like what she saw! Miranda I started with a simple evening gown that hugged her figure. It did look good on her and I could see that she felt good in it. Almost all the clothes were chosen with that in mind. That they would show her off to good effect. I wanted her to see herself as attractive, sexy, and desirable. If she saw herself like that then she would understand my reaction to her. I only used 'everyday' poses at this stage, nothing overtly sexy but shots that made her look good, particularly her bottom which was by far her best feature. I mean that. Not just because I am a bottom man but it was good. It was firm and tight, you could tell by how she filled out the dresses. The other thing I liked about her was the slight rise of her tummy. I am fond of this in a woman so hers was delightful. I chatted to her all the time, asking her to stand this way, that way. To smile, to look sad, angry, annoyed, happy. Unexpectedly she was a natural and looked great on camera. I took quite a few head and shoulders of her as well, posing her to get the best effect. I took one of her with a great big pout. She did that particularly well and I did have a minor crisis with JT! She really was very good looking when she put her make-up on. No, don't take that the wrong way, she was attractive without make-up, didn't need it really, but she did know how to use it to good effect. I stopped for lunch and we went downstairs to eat. She seemed quite at ease with me now, just what I wanted really. "Would you like to be paid in cash," I asked. She nodded, "Shall we say 6 hours today?" She looked pleased, "That's generous," she said, "I'll have to leave a half three." I smiled, "It's been a pleasure and I've got some good shots. You've very good you know. I won't have much trouble selling today's shoot." I knew I wouldn't because I did think I would sell them but, of course, she would get the cash as I apparently did so. "Do you think so," she said innocently. I suddenly felt that, for a woman of 38, she seemed incredibly naïve. Perhaps I wouldn't be able to achieve my aim? Anyway, just now that didn't matter, I was having fun! I followed the same course after lunch, photographing her in modest summer dresses all of which did her proud, I must say. I could see also, that she was beginning to enjoy herself. I suppose the opportunity to model lots of clothes and to be photographed was enjoyable for her. I certainly tried to make her look even better on camera. I only tried one dress that was at all provocative. This was a long evening gown. It was pink and had so much material that the hem had to be fixed to tiny wrist bands, lifting it from the floor. The bust consisted of two pieces of cloth just covering the breasts joined by a pale, flesh coloured, piece of cloth. The shoulder straps were very narrow and the back plunged almost to the crease of her buttocks. She looked bloody marvellous. I think she could have gone anywhere in that dress. She obviously loved it as well. It was very twenties in style and extremely sexy and she knew it, I think. Her manner changed and her glances at me turned just a bit coquettish. The photos were tremendous. I took them from all angles paying particular attention to her bottom for which the dress seemed made. "This is wonderful," she said as she twirled round looking at herself in the large mirror. "Yes," I said quietly, "you do look rather wonderful in that." I meant it, she bloody did! "I'd love to go somewhere where I could wear this," she said wistfully, telling me by the way, that perhaps she didn't get out that much. I thought that, if things went well, I might just take her somewhere she could wear it but it was too soon to push. "I'm afraid you'll have to take it off," I said with a laugh, "I don't think you'd fit in with the clientele of M. & S. do you?" "No," she said sadly, "no, I don't suppose I would. Oh well," a big sigh, "off it comes," and she went to change back to her everyday clothes. Before we left I paid her £210 and then drove her back to town. On the way I asked her about another session. "I don't know yet," she said shyly, "I'm not sure." I didn't want to push, this had to go at her pace. Remember, she wasn't a porn star was she! "OK," I said, "just give me a call. I need a days notice really," I said giving myself a little breathing room. "I'll call you," she said with a smile as she left. I watched her walk away. My own personal dream of a MILF. Her bottom swung beautifully as she strolled down the street and, I must admit, a severe case of animal lust hit me just then. God I wanted to fuck her! Softly, softly catchee monkey however. Today had been good, I'd certainly enjoyed myself. She'd seemed relaxed and at ease with me and with herself. Towards the end she really seemed to be enjoying the modelling. Me, I was happy. Things were going as I had planned and I had the pictures of her in that dress. I couldn't wait to get home and exercise the five fingered widow! It was over a week before I heard from her again and I had begun to wonder whether it had all been a dream but, on the Wednesday she rang to say that, if it was all right, she could come on Friday. Well that was fine by me so I agreed to pick her up again. "I'm sorry I haven't called until now," she said as I drove us home, "I've had some problems." She seemed very low, unsure of herself. Trying to help, I said, not really expecting a reply "Nothing too serious I hope?" "No," she said with some passion, "only my husband having an affair." "Oh," I said apologetically. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't pry." "No, it's all right. I've suspected for ages, I just confirmed it. Bastard," she said with some feeling, "bloody bastard." I drove quietly not wanting to pry any more although I was aware that this might make my task a bit easier. She would have no loyalty to her husband now would she. She might just be even more willing to fall herself. I realised as I had these thoughts that they were quite reprehensible. After all she was in trouble wasn't she and these thoughts were selfish. I immediately regretted them. "Are you sure about this?" I asked as we neared my house. "Mmm," she said, "sorry. I shouldn't have said that really. Yes I enjoyed last time," she laughed, "especially that dress, so I'm going to enjoy myself again. Did you sell any?" Now I don't think that this question had altogether a financial motive. From her look I suspected there was a tiny degree of vanity here. Perhaps she would need that I thought having been, figuratively speaking, spurned by her husband. "Yes I did," I said. "I sold a whole series of you in that dress to an American magazine," and, truth to tell, I had. Look I don't want to bullshit here, I'm not that good a photographer, but it was a very good series because she looked fabulous and the camera captured that. I had a pal in the States who edited an up-market magazine and these were just the kind of thing he wanted. "I'll get a copy sent over for you?" "You sold some, really? You sold some of me?" I smiled, "Really. Why not, you looked fabulous in that dress." "Could I wear it again today, just for a moment?" she said. She was gorgeous, almost girlish, wanting a present. God she was delectable and she reminded me momentarily, and with a sudden rush of sadness, of my wife. I suppose I should have realised then that this might just turn out to be something more than just and experiment. However, I was determined to push us along today, stockings and shoes, then, perhaps, a sexy pair of boots. "Of course you can," I said, "but there are some other things that will complement you." We arrived and, after a coffee, retired to the studio. She tried on the dress again and she did look gorgeous. If I did get to have her I knew I'd have to do it at least once starting with her in that dress. After she'd enjoyed herself for a while flouncing I said, "Now, now Miranda, we're here to work remember." "Oh, I'm sorry. It's just, well this dress. It makes me feel different." I laughed, "Yes, I can imagine. Well there are lots of clothes here that may do that," I said, "so let's get on. There are a couple of new dresses in there, this seasons. Let's try them first." She smiled sadly and nodded, taking the dresses into the changing room. Then I caught the first glimpse of her breasts as she opened the door and poked her head round. "Which one first?" she said not realising, I think, that I could see her in the mirror front of the wardrobe. The view was delicious and I ostensibly clicked the camera to capture the image. "Oh, I don't mind. Try the blue one." She turned and, as she closed the door, I caught site of her bottom encased in her panties. Fuck! She was lovely there: I wonder did she know? Sadly I didn't manage to get a shot of that. I quickly moved the shot of her in the mirror to another file and waited for her to come out. She looked lovely and fresh in the new dress and I got a good set of photos with both dresses before lunch. As we ate lunch I said to her, "Miranda can I ask you something?" "Mmm," she said munching happily on a sandwich. "Well," I said tentatively, "we've finished most of the clothing now and I'd like to move on to some shots of shoes and boots." She raised her eyebrows, "You sound unsure," she said. "Well," I hesitated, "these shots tend to be just a bit more, errrm, sexy I suppose. You know boots, stockings, a bit of leg," I laughed. She smiled a sad smile, "I don't think I'm very sexy," she said sadly. I smiled back, "Oh but you are. All women are sexy." I said, "You'll be sexy if you feel that way. Look, let's just try a few things after lunch. If you don't like it we'll go back to the day dresses, how's that?" "That's OK," she said with a smile, "I'll try." After lunch we went back upstairs and I directed her to the clothes I wanted her to wear for the afternoon. I did have a plan here, formulated over long hours of thought. I gave her a blouse of deep red with bolero sleeves and a frilly neckline and a calf length skirt, also deep red. I also gave her a fairly low cut bra that lifted her boobs a bit. She raised her eyebrows but didn't object. Then: "Miranda," I asked pensively, "will you wear stockings and suspenders?" She looked surprised, "Errr, yes if you want me to." "Its just that, when I photograph the boots, stockings look better." She raised her eyebrows questioningly. I smiled, "They're all sorts, some knee-length, some ankle." "Oh," she said with a smile, "perhaps this could be interesting!" With that she disappeared into the changing room, popping back out immediately with, "Oh, where are the stockings and the, errm, suspenders." "Sorry, in the draw in the wardrobe, second down." I indicated the second wardrobe which had a set of drawers. I knew she would be able to see some of the items in there. I was going to try to get her to wear these on her next visit. That is, if all went well with this one! She changed into the clothing and came out shoeless. I'd lined up the boots and we started. I didn't really know if I could sell photos of her modelling boots but the idea was to get her to show a little more leg with some pairs. Everything went well and she seemed to be enjoying just flicking her skirt up now and then, no suspenders but she was still very provocative, although I don't really think she knew she was; if you see what I mean. The last pair I wanted her to model were long, just under the knee, and very sexy. They had four inch high heels and were a bright red, matching the rest of her outfit. Wearing them she looked devastating, JT was very interested! Now she was dressed as I wanted I put my plan into action. "Miranda," I said, "if it's OK I'd like to start by just taking a few moments of video. Just of you walking up and down." "Just that," she said puzzled, "surely no one will want to see that?" I laughed, "Miranda, love, I can assure you that any red blooded man would want to see you dressed like that. You look, well, gorgeous." "Really?" she said preening slightly, "really!" "Yes, really. Now, I've got the VT camera set up, just walk back and forth." She did and the heels made her bottom, accentuated by the drop of the skirt, move in the most alluring way. "That's great Miranda. Now turn and walk back, smile. Good, you've just met someone you like, smile." Again she did and it was a lovely smile. "Great, now turn away, walk. Now look back over your left shoulder and smile again. Fantastic, fantastic. Come and have a look Miranda." I wanted her to see herself because, and I'm not exaggerating here, she could have stopped the traffic in that outfit. She watched the replay open-mouthed. "Is that really me, me?" I laughed, "Yes, you, you. I told you didn't I. You are very attractive." She looked at me anew and smiled. "Now," I said, "Some stills." I posed her initially just standing, sometimes facing the camera, sometimes facing away, sometimes side on. Most of the shots had her looking over her shoulder or to the left or right. She continued to look fabulous and she was obviously enjoying the attention of the camera. Now for the final step. "Miranda, this has been really good. I want to try for the final set. Miranda I need you to put one leg up on to the chair." This raised her knee level with her waist. "Good. Can you show a bit of leg for me." She smiled, "There isn't much left with these boots," she said but she did draw the skirt back to show the inside of her knee. Hell she was sexy. Time to push. "That's good," I said unenthusiastically. "What's wrong?" she asked picking up my lack of enthusiasm. "Nothing," I said, "you look great. Errm, look I don't like to ask this and if I'm embarrassing you I'm sorry but," I hesitated, "could you show the suspender?" It wasn't a problem! She drew the skirt back a little more and there was the suspender holding the stocking top. "Like this," she said with a smile. Fuck, I almost took her there, she was so, so sensual and she didn't realise it. "Hell, Miranda, that is PERFECT!" She smiled, "Good," she said as I began to take shots. Time to progress. "Miranda, can you look really sexy, you know, really hot?" She looked puzzled, "I'm not sure what you mean?" she said quizzically. She was really naïve, innocent almost. "Look, umm, this is difficult." I feigned embarrassment, "Can you try to think of something, you know, that gets you worked up." "Oh," she said reddening up, "oh." I smiled, "Stay like that. You look lovely when you blush," I said which caused her to blush even more so I took a few shots. "You know what I mean?" "I think so," she said. "It's a bit difficult, you know, sort of here and now." I smiled again, "Yes. Just close your eyes and imagine. I'll be very quiet. When you're ready just open your eyes and look straight at the camera as if the camera is what is exciting you. Is that OK." "I think so. Shall I stay like this." Oh fuck yes, I thought, forever! "Yes, if you can." She closed her eyes and her breathing became very regular. I watched her fascinated. After a couple of minutes her breathing became deeper and more irregular then her tongue began to lick her lips. I could see perspiration forming on her forehead and I could sense she was warming up. I know I was just watching her. After about five minutes and lots of lip licking she opened her eyes and looked directly at the camera, and me because I was standing behind it. Her eyes were on fire, she had obviously worked herself up into a considerable passion. Her lips were pursed with the tip of her tongue just poking through. Her face aglow with a sheen of perspiration. She looked on the point of climax! The camera loved it and so did she. I did as well! It was all I could do not to whip out JT and plunge inside her but that was for later, probably never, but there you are. "Yes Miranda, yes, that's good. Keep going. Yes! Look left and right. Good." Suddenly she took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. She had orgasmed! Orgasmed just by thinking about it. She must be one very frustrated lady, I thought. And I wondered what she was thinking about! She lost herself for a moment then realised where she was. She looked at me panic stricken, turned, and rushed into the changing room. I was thankful that I had had the presence of mind to turn on the VT camera at the start - I captured it all on video as well as stills. She didn't come out immediately so I went over and knocked on the door. "Are you OK Miranda," I asked. "Mmm, errr, yes, yes I'm fine. I'll be out in a minute." "OK," I said, "look, we'll finish for the day. I'll go down stairs and make some coffee." "That would be nice, thanks. I'll have a shower and come down." So I shut up shop on the cameras and made some coffee. She came down about half an hour later. She was very contrite and extremely embarrassed. She couldn't look me in the eye. "God, I'm sorry," she said, "I don't know what happened." I smiled, "Don't worry," I said softly, "I think I know what happened and I enjoyed it as well!" This made her look at me and blush bright red. "Oh dear, oh dear," she muttered but she did seem pleased. "That's never happened before," she said, "it must be the clothes, the camera," she looked up, "you." "Well," I said ignoring her reference to me, "I certainly got some good pictures." "You didn't did you? You didn't photograph me having, oh dear. Say you didn't." I touched her hand, "Sorry," I said smiling, "but I did. Video as well." "Oh dear, oh dear." She looked at me beseechingly, "Please don't sell those, please. I'm so ashamed." "What are you ashamed of?" I asked knowing her reply. "Well, you know, like that," she stuttered. Smiling, I touched her hand again and felt the tension in her. "Look," I said, "I won't sell those, not until you say I can. They are very good though," I laughed, "I might look at them if that's OK." She looked at me demurely, "OK," she said, "yes, it's OK for you to look. Can I see them next time?" Thank god. My only worry about this afternoon, which had gone far better than I'd expected, was that it would embarrass her so much she wouldn't come back. "Of course you can, they are yours after all." She smiled a thank you and seemed to gather herself. We finished her coffee and I made to pay her. "No, no," she said, "it's not fair. I spoilt today." I laughed, "Spoilt? You didn't spoil today. Today was the best yet," I paused, "and I enjoyed it more than any other." She looked at me and I think she had finally realised that she was having an effect on me because she blushed ever so slightly. I pushed on, "Here, here's the cash. Don't worry," I said smiling, "I'll get loads back when you agree to sell this afternoon's sets." She smiled and took the money. As I stopped to drop her off outside her house she turned to me, "I've really enjoyed today. It made me forget, you know, forget all about what's happening at home. Thank you," she said with feeling. Then, "Would you really be able to sell those pictures from this afternoon?" she asked. "Oh yes, with no trouble. And the video." "Surely magazines don't want that sort of thing?" "No, not magazines, but I'll find a buyer don't you worry." "Oh," she said, "I'll phone you tomorrow, OK?" "Mmm. Bye," I said as she left. I watched her tight bottom as she walked up the drive. God she was lovely and after this afternoon, well I was on a high. Things were going very well, very well indeed, in my own private MILF hunt! As I drove away however, I began to have feelings which I hadn't anticipated. I actually missed her! I was sorry that I wouldn't see her for a few days. Looking back it was obvious what was happening to me but it wasn't obvious then. I suppose I was lonely. I'd had a marvellous marriage and before that a tremendous relationship. Although I had had women at my house for sex as I wrote above, that wasn't a 'relationship'. They were pleasant and very amenable but there was nothing else and I had discovered in my life that emotional contact with the woman you love can increase sexual pleasure enormously. I missed that I suppose. Miranda Miranda was the first woman I had any real connection with since my wife Kate died. That destroyed me for a time and shattered the confidence of something of a rake in earlier years. I'm thinking that I was actually scared of forming another close relationship because the pain of losing Kate had been overpowering and I only really got over it with the help of my mother and step-father. As I sit here writing this it all becomes so obvious but, I can assure the reader, it wasn't at the time. Surprisingly she phoned the next day. I thought she might be too embarrassed to call straight away and she did seem just a bit tentative on the phone. However, she said she had planned to do another session on Tuesday but she couldn't because of her marital problems. I got the feeling that she was a bit lonely. I knew that her son was away at university so only her daughter would be at home now that her husband had, I presume, left. She said she would come next Friday if all was well. She sounded quite down but keen to carry on. Perhaps being photographed was providing some relief from her difficulties. I missed her and couldn't wait for the Friday to come round. Look, I was getting tied up in this. It wasn't like the porn sites, not like them at all and my feelings for her were growing. This was taking a long time. Much more believable I was thinking but a bit frustrating. Still I was enjoying myself and I was looking forward to our meeting. Yes, I was lonely myself I suppose and, perhaps, I was becoming more involved than I had intended but, then, life is like that isn't it. What happens on-line isn't real is it? I was quite edgy all week and was pleased when she phoned on Thursday to confirm Friday. I knew had to try to calm myself down. I felt that a Rubicon had been crossed. She'd actually had an orgasm in front of me and, although she had been embarrassed, she was coming back. I was beginning to think that it might just be possible that it would happen, could happen. Also, I really wanted to see her again. I'd missed her company over the last few days and I was beginning to realise just how lonely I really was. I picked her up outside M. & S. as usual. She said she didn't want the neighbours keeping track of her comings and goings, especially just now. On the way back she told me that her husband had packed up and left and her daughter Kirsten was coming back to stay with her. Kirsten had been staying at her boy friends house regularly but now she was coming home to support her mother. From her tone, I gathered that Miranda was pleased that it had finally come to a head although she was obviously upset about the whole thing. I did wonder why she was telling me all this but is suppose she had nobody else to talk to at the moment, being on her own. I must admit to beginning to feel something for her other than just pure lust. She seemed to have lost just a bit of her earlier sparkle. I suppose her husband leaving after nearly 20 years, for a younger woman she said, must dent your confidence somewhat. I must admit, I thought he was bloody mad and I was determined that, today, I would try to build her up. Truthfully, she was a very attractive woman and I was surprised he had left. She was, however, very naïve I thought. Perhaps that was why. Perhaps she wasn't adventurous enough in bed or something like that but then that could be his fault as well. Anyway we got back and I made her coffee, laughing and joking all the while. I wasn't going to mention Friday until she did, I'd let her bring it up. It wasn't long! "About Friday," she said hesitantly. "Mmm," I mumbled. "Well, I'm sorry for cutting the afternoon short." I felt she wanted to say something else so I just kept thing calm. "Oh don't worry, it's all right," I said matter-of-factly. She hesitated then said shyly, "Would anyone want to see them, really?" She seemed to be asking several questions here apart from the obvious one. How did she look, what did I think, was she really attractive, so I thought now was the time to begin to make her feel her femininity. "Yes they would. I watched the video and looked at the stills a few times over the weekend and I know a lot of men who would do the same." I looked at her and smiled, "You smouldered you know. You were very, very sexy." This embarrassed her again but she seemed pleased, shifting her position and sitting more confidently. "Did I? Did I really 'smoulder'," she said pensively, "I don't think I've ever 'smouldered' before." I didn't think she had either. I was beginning to suspect that she was a lady who had never really been 'woken up' if you take my meaning. "But I don't understand who you would sell the pictures and video to," she said, puzzled. I suppose I had to tell her now about the internet and what was available. "Well," I said pensively, "pictures like that don't go to magazines," I laughed, "well they might but only the 'top shelf' ones." She looked shocked. "No not the really bad ones," I added laughing, "they might make some of the new men's stuff but, to be frank, I wouldn't sell them for that. Honestly, they are to good." "Where would they go then?" "The internet," I said quickly. "The internet?" "Yes, there are lots of sites that like picture of 'mature' women. Some are reasonably innocent, some not so. Yours would go to the former." I could see she was thinking about this, what it meant, so I moved on quickly. "I haven't let any go yet. I won't until you say so." "Won't you lose money?" she said concerned. "No not really. Don't worry about that anyway." I hastily moved on. "Let's talk about today. You look a bit sad today so I think we ought to, errr, try wardrobe two, what do you say?" She smiled shyly, "You mean the 'sexier' ones?" I laughed, "I suppose so. That's why I was a bit hesitant, I wasn't sure how you'd feel about that." "They looked OK to me. I'll have another look." "Well," I said again, "you don't have to wear anything you don't want to but, well, I think you would look good in some of them." "Thanks," she said smiling, "you make me feel confident." "You should be. Come on, you can have a look at the clothes." So off we went upstairs and she rummaged in the second wardrobe compartment. There were a number of outfits in there as well as swimsuits, lingerie and bed wear (the non-erotic sort!). One outfit was a very, very short miniskirt and very sexy thigh boots with four inch heels. The blouse was see-through and was meant to be worn without a bra. Special knickers went with this outfit because you could see them under the skirt, it was so short. Another outfit was an exceedingly tight pair of hot pants designed specifically to show off a woman's bottom. Short, white ankle socks and trainers for the feet and a tight 'boob tube' for the top. Again special knickers, or rather thong, because the pants were so tight. The final outfit was a pair of faded and distressed jeans with holes all over and at strategic places, particularly just off the pussy and just off the crease of the buttocks. Four inch heels on the shoes would really thrust out the bottom and another scarlet, fully see-through blouse completed the outfit. Further along were swimsuits of various types and a bikini. Then bed wear and underwear. Just a couple of bra and panty sets and a basque suspender belt with some white stockings. If I could get her to wear all this today, well, I thought I'd be on track, mind you I wasn't sure about my own ability to hold on! I was sure she'd look fabulous in most of this gear. Her first comment was, "Oh, these all look a little young for me. Are you sure they'll be all right?" I smiled, "I'm absolutely certain," I said, "they're all your size so why don't you try one on?" She took out the mini-skirt outfit and looked closely. "I can't wear this can I," she said holding it up. "Look, you can see, oh the skirt's very short." Then she looked at me, "Do you really want me to model this?" Again I thought I detected a more subtle question here. Not so much did I want her to 'model' the outfit, did I want to 'see' her in it? "Yes I do," I said, "I do very much." She thought for a moment, looked back at the outfit she was holding, and made her decision. "OK," she said with a smile, "but don't you laugh will you?" I smiled back, "Miranda darling," I said, "I can assure you that there isn't a man alive who would laugh at you wearing that outfit!" She laughed, "Flatterer!" she said as she entered the changing room. Twenty minutes later she came out. "These boots," she said with a laugh, "I don't think I could wear them for too long and they take ages to get on!" On purpose, I didn't have a full length mirror in the changing room, she would have to come out to see herself head to toe and I think it was just as well. The skirt was so short you could see the bulge of her sex peeking out underneath covered by the frilly knickers that went with the outfit. As she turned I could also see the curve of her bottom as her cheeks met her thighs. It was VERY difficult to hold back then - she was so, so attractive it wasn't true. Now she saw herself in the mirror. "Oh, oh dear. I can't wear this. Oh," and she put her hands down to cover herself. "I told you," I said with feeling, "I wouldn't laugh at you in that outfit. You look fabulous." Now she looked at me quizzically. "I don't look silly?" "Silly," I said, "far from it. You look fetching, very fetching indeed." She smiled, "Really," then she remembered that her knickers were showing, "but, but you can see my knickers," she said blushing. I laughed, "I noticed! Yes, it's designed like that. Very sexy and very sensuous." She looked embarrassed. "Look Miranda, just let me take a few pictures and you can see yourself on the monitor. If you don't like what you see we can stop. How's that." She thought for a moment then, taking a deep breath, removed her hands and stood up straight. "OK," she said, "let's try." "Just walk over here Miranda. I've got the VT turned on so we can watch you walk in the outfit." I'd actually had it turned on since she came out. I couldn't help thinking that what wonderful series this would make on-line! She walked towards the VT, "Smile, good. Now turn and walk back. OK, lean forward slightly and look over your shoulder . . ." "Oh shit," she said, "you can see my arse! Ooops, sorry but you can!" "Yes," I said and decided to dare, "and very nice it is too but it is just the knickers," I added laughing, "they are meant to be seen." My comment caused her to look at me rather sharply, not angry, surprised I thought. The she smiled, "I suppose so," she said, "and they are rather nice." Now I took a series of stills of her in various positions. I was pushing her into slightly more sexy poses now, leaning forward on a chair and looking over her shoulder, that sort of thing. I had one of her kneeling on the settee looking back showing almost all of her bottom. She didn't seem to mind, indeed she seemed to be enjoying herself. I'm not sure she even realised that the poses were 'sexy'. I couldn't help but think that her husband was a bloody fool, he couldn't have satisfied her properly. I had also realised that, as soon as she came out, that she was wearing a bra. The blouse was see-though and, of course, you could see it. Not a problem, quite sexy really, but now I wanted to push some more. "Miranda?" "Yes?" "You realise that the blouse is see-through?" "Errrm, errr, yes." "And you have a bra on?" "Errr, yes." "Miranda, would you take it off?" She blushed. This was a major step wasn't it. If she did I would see her boobs, through the material certainly, but see them. And the material was very flimsy, intentionally so. This was a sexy outfit not really for street wear. It was designed to be photographed or stripped off! "I never gone 'bra-less'," she said embarrassed. "Look, it's only in here, only on photographs. I've said haven't I, that I won't sell any of them that you don't approve. And I'm the only one who'll see them aren't I, if you say so." She looked at me and I could see her mind working, then she smiled, "All right, it'll be exciting won't it?" I think her question was rhetorical but I decided to answer it anyway. "Yes Miranda, it will be!" This caused another sharp look, again surprise but tempered with interest. She turned into the changing room and returned a few minutes later without the bra. I could see she was embarrassed, unsure of herself so time to boost her ego. This wasn't a problem because, now, she looked even more lovely. I could imagine myriad male hands clasping erect cocks while looking at her dressed like this - I know mine would be! "Miranda darling, you look . . . bloody marvellous." I knew her boobs weren't enormous but they were firm and she must have been slightly aroused by the situation because her nipples were firm, sticking into the material. Large nipples too, I noted with interest. I like large nipples! She smiled shyly, "I feel naked," she said, "I've never worn anything like this before." And perhaps, if you had, your husband would still be around, I thought but it would have been cruel to say that. It was clear she was very innocent sexually. I wondered then how, nowadays, a woman of her age could be so unaware of her sexuality. You know, you had Cosmopolitan, and all the woman's magazines, writing about sex. Take that together with the letters pages and there wasn't much you couldn't learn. She seemed naïve about herself though, perhaps she had read it all but not believed it or, perhaps, not believed it about herself. A bit like I didn't believe the MILF sites were real. "That's a pity," I said, "because you are beautiful." She looked at me again, "Am I really?" she asked coyly. "Yes, really," I said with a smile. "Now let's get some photos taken!" "Mmm, OK!" she muttered seeming to be only too happy to be photographed. Now I moved her into even more provocative poses, getting close-ups of her from the waist down. Accentuating her pussy and her bottom and then focussing on her boobs. All the while she seemed unaware of the sexuality that she was displaying but she was sexy, bloody sexy and I was having great difficulty controlling myself. JT had formed a rather large tent in my trousers and I knew that I would be masturbating hard tonight. I did notice her looking at me once or twice, she must have noticed my erection but said nothing. I got plenty of shots of her and then suggested she tried on another outfit. She seemed keen and chose the jeans. As she went to change I said, "That's a see-through blouse as well Miranda." "OK," she said, apparently happy to go bra-less now. I was at the stage of longing to see her naked, to touch her body, to make love to her but I realised that there was still a long way to go. She came out after a while and now she looked even better. "These jeans are in desperate need of repair," she laughed, "there are holes everywhere." Then she looked at herself in the mirror and saw where one was. I was just to the left of her sex and showed the line of her knickers, not really meant to be seen I add, and bare skin. "Oh dear," she said, "you can see my knickers again!" "Mmm," I said, "you look great. Do you mind?" "Oh bugger it. No, it doesn't matter does it? Let's just take the photos. I quite like this. It makes me feel free." "Good," I said. "Now just walk up and down like before." So she did then saw where the holes were at the back. The were strategically placed as well. One, fairly large, was just to the left of her bottom crease and would have shown her anus had she not been wearing knickers, the other, like that in the front, showed the edge of her knickers. She was bloody delectable. "Oh dear," she said again as she saw herself, "you can see my arse in this as well!" I laughed, "No," I said then added, "sadly not. You are wearing panties aren't you?" She had heard the 'sadly not' I was sure because I caught another sharp glance. No anger just interest again. Perhaps, perhaps! "Look Mike, I'm just a bit worried this stuff makes me look cheap. All these holes, see-through blouse, that sort of thing." "Well Miranda, I suppose it's all in the mind. I could be flippant and say that's the last thing it makes you look," I laughed, "in that gear you'd be anything but 'cheap'!" Now she blushed. She wasn't that naïve, she knew what I meant. And I did mean it. If she paraded like that men would pay a lot to have her. "You're terrible," she laughed, "you've made me blush." "And you look even prettier," I said with a smile. "Seriously, no you don't look 'cheap'. Sexy, attractive, captivating even," I laughed, "but never cheap," I ended seriously. She looked at me for a long time then and I could almost see her mind working. Working at what I didn't know but she did glance down and my groin as if she was checking to see her effect. Luckily, or otherwise I don't know, although this gear made her look good it hadn't done much for me yet, I hadn't started to pose her. No doubt as I did so JT would wake up. "I believe you," she said, "but I'm not really sure about selling all these pictures just now." "OK," I said. I didn't mind anyway so I just added, "I'll make it up financially by paying a bit more when you model swimsuits and lingerie, OK." "It doesn't matter," she said. "To be honest the money's not that important. It's just nice to get out and to meet someone different." She looked at me then, "And I am enjoying myself," she added with a soft smile that might, just might, have meant more. Again a fleeting memory of my wife flashed through my mind. I was beginning to see that there was some semblance between the two of them, minute but there in Miranda's soft smile. I smiled back. A warm and inviting smile, "I am too," I said then moving us on, "shall we do a few shots in that then you can try the last one on before lunch." "OK," she said. I don't know whether she'd really looked at the last outfit! It was definitely more daring insomuch as it would make her feel very aroused. So, after about 10 minutes, I suggested she change. She picked the hanger from the wardrobe without looking really then turned and said, "What shoes?" "Just the trainers with white socks," I said, "and Miranda, you'll need this," I added as I handed her the thong. "Oh," she said puzzled, "what's that?" I smiled inwardly at her naivety. "It's a thong," I said with a smile. "You won't be able to wear normal knickers under those pants." "Oh, oh," she said her eyes widening, "a thong. I don't think I've ever worn a thong." I laughed, "Well you can now. Miranda?" I asked seriously, "are you sure you want to do this. We can skip it if you like." "No, no. It's all right. Anyway," she said with a girlish smile, "it's quite exciting really," She said as she entered the changing room. Yes, I thought, it will be when the that hem digs into your pussy and bottom! She came about 10 minutes later wiggling her bottom. "Bloody hell Mike, these are really tight." She laughed, "I don't think I could wear these for long!" She looked bloody fantastic, much, much younger - the effect of the trainers and white socks, and her bottom, well her bottom was heaven. The hot pants pulled her bottom cheeks apart and gave them a wonderful shape. At the front you could see the shape of her sex and the hem pushing between. God she looked so shaggable it was untrue, especially as the boob tube hardly covered her lovely breasts. "You look bloody fantastic," I said throatily. She gave me a long look, registering my state of arousal I suppose. A look that did wander down towards the floor. She must have noticed that JT had registered an interest because she looked back at me and blushed slightly. Then she saw herself in the mirror. Miranda "Oh dear, oh dear oh dear." She looked herself up and down then turned slightly. Her bottom was proud and absolutely delectable. She looked back at me, then at herself again and she stroked her body with her hands and stood up straight. Now, I thought, now you realise how lovely you are! And I believe she did. "Will you walk for me, the usual thing, then look back?" I said. She did a couple of times. I think she was beginning to realise that the pants were exciting more than just me. I could see her beginning to redden slightly and there was the odd licking of her lips. "Sit on the settee and cross your legs Miranda," I said. So she did. "Great, great. Uncross, cross. Good. Turn left and look at me. Now back right." There was method in my madness. Posing her like this was causing even more stimulation for her and I could see she was really beginning to get hot now. "I think I'd better change," she said breathing heavily, "it's a bit uncomfortable." I'll bet it is, I thought. "OK, just a couple more poses. OK. Stand, one leg up on the stool. OK, look at the camera, now away. Good." This was bloody fantastic. Because the pants were so tight into her pussy, when she lifted her leg on the stool I could see right into her crotch, even make out the thong and the soft skin underneath. Now JT was really bursting to get free. I tried to keep her facing away from the mirror while I took the pictures, at the highest resolution I should stress, but finally she turned and looked. She did a double take then shrieked, "Oh, oh no," and sat down covering herself with her hands like before. Quite a good result I thought. She would be frustrated because she had been well on the way to orgasm and she knew I had almost seen her pussy. "Miranda," I said, "Miranda what is it." "You could see me," she said embarrassed, "You know, everything." I laughed, "No Miranda, not everything," I stopped and looked at her hard, "sadly," I added causing a long look back at me and a glance down at JT (who was performing incidentally!). "Miranda, you looked absolutely wonderful, great. Sexy and very, very captivating." I fixed her with my eyes, "And I think you were enjoying wearing them?" Now she smiled, "Perhaps," she said coyly. "Are you sure you couldn't see anything really?" "No," I said sadly, "no I couldn't. Anyway, do you want to stop for lunch now or can we finish in that outfit?" She thought for a moment then took a deep breath. "No," she said, "let's finish before lunch. How do you want me?" Flat on you back with your legs apart, I thought! "Just like before if that's all right. Miranda, it's very sexy to see right up like that. Can I take some in that position." "Oh bloody hell, why not?" she said, "go on. Tell me how to stand." So I positioned her with her knee higher than her waist and faced her directly at the camera. Now it could see right up into her crotch. Also, the pants were digging into her pussy, you could clearly see the lips of her vagina each side. I got her to change legs a couple of times and I could see she was getting worked up again. I was as hard as a rock myself and it was becoming quite painful - I just hoped I could hold out. Now for the final challenge. "Miranda," she looked up seemingly preoccupied, "can I take some of you from the back?" "Mmm, why not! Come on." She was into it by now and well on the way. I positioned her kneeling on the chaise longue leaning over the back. This put her bottom high in the air and, the pants being so tight, I could now see her crotch and the edge of the narrow thong. The hem of the pants was digging onto the crease of her buttocks and splitting the lips of her vagina. It must have been pressing on her anus as well. "Hell, that's fantastic Miranda," I said a bit breathlessly. Now she looked back at me and her eyes wandered down to my crotch. My erection was obvious, I couldn't do anything about it. I thought I detected a slight smile on her face as she glanced at me. "That's it Miranda," I said as I moved her around some more. She was getting hotter and I decided to let her have her fun. "OK, Miranda, enough for now. I'll go down and get lunch while you change. Don't rush," I added smiling. She blushed a little and smiled back. "I'll get changed then." I quickly left her alone but, of course, I had left the VT camera running! I looked at it later that evening. As soon as I left she sat on the chaise longue and unzipped the hot pants at the side. Sliding her hand down the waist she opened her legs and pulled the pants down a bit. She must have been masturbating then because her eyes closed and her breathing got progressively heavier until finally there was a deep sigh and a relaxation. She quickly nipped into the changing room and you could hear the shower going. Of course I didn't know any of this until later but I did suspect she would bring herself off. She was certainly close when I left. She came downstairs about 20 minutes later looking very relaxed. She seemed happier now, having shaken off the blues of the morning. "What have you got for this afternoon," she asked with a smile. "Mind you," she said laughing, "you've seen almost everything!" She seemed much easier in herself over lunch, as if she'd come to terms with why she was here. I suppose her orgasm must have relaxed her and, by now, she must have been becoming aware that she was going on a 'photographic journey' so to speak. Look she may have been naïve but she wasn't stupid. She must have noticed the steadily decreasing amount of clothing I was giving her to model but that didn't seem to be bothering her now. Another thing that displayed her ease with me and her position was her dressing gown. On the last two occasions at lunch she'd worn the dressing gown tightly tied up and tucked in almost to the chin. Now it was loose and, occasionally she would flash a sight of her breast. Not intentionally, I think it was accidental, but she didn't seem bothered about it. I suppose I had almost seen her boobs when she wore the see-through blouses so she didn't think it important. "Some swimming costumes," I said, "I can sell those to brochure companies. They stitch them together, say with kids for family hotels, handsome men for things like Sandals, that sort of thing." "Is that all, I thought I saw some nightdresses?" "Yes, you did. There are some pyjamas, silk, and some nightgowns, also silk. There's some fairly ordinary lingerie and," I said looking directly at her, "a very sexy suspender set. Look Miranda, you only have to do this if you want to!" She smiled, "I do, I do want to," she said breathlessly. "I'm enjoying myself. I haven't enjoyed myself so much for a long time," she added wistfully then she looked at me. "You make me feel good, feminine," she said then added vehemently, "not like that bastard husband of mine." Now I was sure that they didn't hit it off sexually and that was probably the problem. She just needed to be admired, told how beautiful she was and the camera, and me I suppose, were doing that. "Sorry," she said looking up at me, "I shouldn't bring my problems here." I smiled softly at her, I didn't mind her bringing them here, it gave me a chance to get them off her mind. "I hope you can forget them here," I said and I meant it. She smiled, "Yes," she said, "I do. That's why I like coming here and posing for you." That was the first time she'd really said she enjoyed being here and it sent a thrill through me. "You go up and have a look through the wardrobe while I clear up," I said and she went off upstairs. I followed a while later to find her already changed into one of the costumes. It's funny really isn't it. A woman can be coy about showing her body in underwear but happy to reveal large amounts in a swimming costume, and in public. Still, she did fill out a swimming costume very well, I must say. "Is this OK?" she said. "I can't wear a bikini," she laughed, "I don't have the figure for it but I like the one-piece ones." I laughed, "I can live with that," I said, "that one certainly looks good on you." She smiled, "How do you want me," she said again but this time with a slight smile that I was sure hinted at a double meaning. Well, as I wrote above, I certainly knew how I wanted her but it was still too early. I felt things had to take their course. So we went into the swimsuit range, standing, sitting, kneeling, laying down. Lots of varied shots paying particular attention to her lying face down and showing off her gorgeous bottom! These didn't take very long as there wasn't much variety, after all one-piece swimming costumes are pretty much the same. The last one was different however, and I wanted her to try it on for a couple of reasons. Firstly the material was very, very thin because it was one of the new 'tan through' swimsuits and I could see it stretching very provocatively. It was a lovely dark pink in colour. Secondly, and I didn't know whether I would get to test this, if it got wet it completely disappeared becoming totally see-through. Miranda had picked this one up to change into. "This feels funny," she said, "very light." So I told her about the tan through and she laughed then I said, "But you can't get it wet. If you do it becomes see-through." "Not much chance here," she laughed as she went to change. No but I did have a spray bottle full of water that I was hoping to use just to test it out! She came out and I saw I was right, it stretched very nicely indeed. I looked her up and down, "I don't think you could ever wear that in public Miranda, you'd stop traffic." She looked at herself in the mirror and on the monitor, turning round as she did so. The costume really accentuated the shape of her pussy, you could almost see the parting of her nether lips. Her bottom was, well, out of this world! "Mmm," she said, "It fits well doesn't it?" I laughed, "Oh yes, it does that. Come on, let's take some pictures." So I did, focussing on those from the back I must admit. She must have known because all the while she had a tiny self satisfied look on her face, as if she was pleased with herself. After a while I said to her, "Miranda, you know I said it was supposed to be see through if you got it wet?" She looked and nodded. "We . . . ll, I said holding up the spray bottle, "shall we see?" "What if it is?" she said embarrassed. I laughed, "I won't tell anybody," I said. "Oh go on then, just the top though." Well yes but the material was probably going to soak up the water and the spray wasn't that specific. I sprayed her boobs with coldish water (method here - to get her nipples erect) making sure some water hit her below the waist. I was standing between her and the camera so she couldn't see the effect. I could! Her nipples and areole were showing through the suit perched on top of the lovely breasts. Looking down, I could see the slight darkness of her pussy hair, neatly trimmed I noticed, through the material that had, indeed, become completely translucent. I moved away and she could see, "Oh bugger," she shouted, "you can see everything!!" and her hands went down to cover her sex. The situation presented her with the same problem all women face in this case, only two hands but three points to cover. I was watching her with a big smile on my face and a very powerful erection. The sight was eroticism itself! I saw her looking at herself and then a realisation that she couldn't hide everything so she gave up, took a deep breath, and stood tall. I swear she gained confidence as she saw herself on camera, an attractive, sexy, mature woman who was having a powerful effect on the only man in the room. "You bugger," she said with a smile. Thank god she'd taken it well. "You did that on purpose!" "Well," I said laughing back at her, "I wasn't sure it would be quite so 'see-through' but I am sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you." "You," she said looking at me mock sternly, "are a very naughty man, taking advantage of my good nature." "Yes," I said seriously in return, "I am. I am sorry." Now she smiled, "Well, now it's done you might as well take some photographs!" I must admit I was surprised. She was so much more confident now. I couldn't really see that much through the material but, like most things erotic, it was the suggestion that excited and, boy, was I excited! I got behind the camera and took some pictures then said, "What about some from behind?" Now I was pushing it but I really wanted to see her lovely bottom through the material. She gave me a calculating look that did travel down to take in my bulge then she smiled, "Why not. Come on spray me," and she turned away. God she was lovely! I sprayed the water on her back and her bottom. As the material became translucent I could see the crease of her bottom and the wonderful globes each side. I moved back to the camera quickly. It was all I could do to keep my hands off her just then. I was a bit preoccupied with the camera, trying to cool down really, so I didn't immediately notice her watching me in the mirror as I adjusted dear old JT who was having a moment of crisis. She looked away quickly but I thought I noticed a tiny smile as she looked over her shoulder and said, "Shall I bend forward?" Oh shit I thought, I'm not sure I can handle that. "Oh yes," I said, "do that. I'll get some shots." So I did and managed to calm down a bit as the material dried out. In the end it was a fabulous series of pictures that told and amusing and erotic story. As I finished I said, "Miranda it's quite late. Have you got to leave at four?" "No, not now. I can stay later. Anyway, I want to finish the wardrobe," she added laughing, "there are one or two VERY interesting items!" Yes, I thought, there are. "OK," I said, "you get dried off and I'll make a quick coffee downstairs. So I did and we had a coffee together. She was very confident now, confident, I thought, in her ability of affect me, in her femininity. I wondered how she got on with her husband. I couldn't think she was like this with him or he wouldn't have looked elsewhere. Look, she was undoubtedly a very attractive and, underneath that veneer of, I don't know, drabness I suppose, an exceedingly sexy lady. We got back upstairs and she said, "I'll do the nightie stuff first. I can't wait to try on those pyjamas." I had a pair of silk pyjamas with a Japanese pattern. I know how silk feels against the skin, I always used to wear silk boxers when I knew I was going to be 'performing'. I find the feeling very exciting so I assumed she would as well. We did a couple of nightdresses, as ever she looked lovely, then I suggested the pyjamas. She took them and changed. I must admit that when she came out I was a bit overwhelmed - she was outstandingly gorgeous. There's something about silk pyjamas on a woman, especially when worn open or loose at the top, so suggestive without showing anything. She looked at me a could obviously see I was impressed. "You like these?" she asked with a smile. I smiled back, "Yes, very much. Mind you," I added, "if you came to bed in those I don't expect you'd get much sleep!" She blushed then looked directly at me, "You are terrible!" she said smiling, "but they do feel so lovely." She twirled and I caught sight of her breasts as she turned, so erotic. JT was obviously at full attention now and, as I set the camera again, I noticed her looking at me. She'd worked out how to watch me in the mirror so she probably had seen me 'adjusting my dress' on a number of occasions. It would be obvious to her the effect she was having on me. We finished taking some shots of her like this then she danced to the wardrobe and pulled out the white bra, suspender set, and stocking set. "This now?" she asked holding it up. I took a deep breath, "Yes Miranda, but only if you want to." "Do you want me to?" she asked with a direct look. Again I sensed more than a simple question here, she seemed to be testing me rather than the camera. "Yes," I said, "very much." "OK," she smiled, "it looks exciting." "The shoes are down there," I said pointing to a pair of white 3 inch platform shoes. She laughed, "I'll never be able to walk in those." "I know," I said with a smile, "but you won't have to walk far will you." "No, I suppose not," she said matter-of-factly as she picked up the shoes then the stockings and knickers. "Miranda," I said as she went to go, "can you wear these as well?" and I handed her a pair of plain glass spectacles. I love women in specs so this would add to the appeal. "Why," she asked, "I don't normally wear glasses." "Well," I said hesitantly, "I really like glasses on an attractive woman so . . ." She smiled a secretive, self-satisfied smile, "All right, if you like them," she said as she took them from me. My sense of anticipation at seeing her in this was very, very high. I was nervous waiting for her to come out and, I must admit, just a bit surprised she seemed so easy about wearing this outfit. Surely she must realise, I thought, that you only wear an outfit like this for one reason, that's for your lover to take it off, isn't it? She came out looking fabulous and just a bit tentative. She was nervous, about how she looked I suppose. From her manner now she was dressed in it, I doubted she'd ever worn anything like this before. A bra and suspenders really does look good on a woman with a decent figure and Miranda has a decent figure, that's for sure. The material was opaque so nothing was visible but that's even more erotic isn't it? She'd also tied her hair up, emphasizing the spectacles: WOW! "You look fabulous Miranda," I said, "fabulous." "Do you really think so?" "No," I said and saw her face drop, then added with a smile that surprised her, "I KNOW so!" This seemed to give her confidence and she stood up straight although a bit wobbly on the shoes. Her boobs were held delectably by the brassiere and her sex, covered of course by her knickers, was framed by the suspenders. The white stockings showed her legs off to excellent effect and the shoes, as well as making her taller, caused her bottom to take on an immensely sexy pout. I was having trouble now, JT was really bulging and I had to furtively adjust things down below. As I did so I caught her looking this time which caused a slight blush but still that little smile. "Let's do some pictures," I said so she stood, she sat, she knelt. In the latter case leaning forward on the chaise longue looking over her shoulder - god she was lovely. She was wearing the knickers under the suspenders which, I suppose, is the natural way to wear them but, although it is still sexy, I think that wearing them over the suspenders infers more so after several shots I made a suggestion. "Miranda," I said as she sat, "you're wearing the knickers under the suspenders." "Mmm," she said, "why?" "We . . . ll," I said hesitantly. "Well what?" she said with a smile. "Well, you're wearing the knickers inside the suspenders," I said again. "I don't understand?" she said, puzzled. "Errrmm, look," I hesitated, "if you were going to take them off it would be difficult. Wearing them like that, sort of, infers they are not coming off." She missed my point, "I don't need to take them off. Anyway, if I did I could undo the suspenders." I took a deep breath, "Yes," I said, "but what if someone else wanted to take them off but leave the suspenders on?" For a moment she didn't see the point then she coloured up. "Oh, oh, oh I see. Right! OK. Yes, I see now." I could see her mind working now as she dealt with her embarrassment. Then she looked at me, her poise having returned. She surprised me, "Shall I wear them like that then?" Her glance was frank and open. Was there a suggestion? I couldn't be sure. Miranda "Only if you want to," I said. I wanted her to decide. She said nothing, just turned into the changing room. I fiddled with the camera and adjusted my dress until she came out a couple of minutes later with the knickers over the suspenders. "How about this?" she said stroking her hands down her body accentuating her shape. "Yes," I said with a catch in my voice. I was close to cumming at that point. Her eroticism was almost overwhelming and my cock was straining at the leash to such an extent that it was becoming uncomfortable. I couldn't adjust properly because she was standing there watching me. Now her attitude shouted confidence; she knew full well how she looked and exactly what it was doing to me. There was a tiny smile on her face as we stood looking at each other. Then she said, "It's not very comfortable wearing them like this. They pinch the suspenders. Shall I take them off?" she added fixing me with her eyes. She was killing me slowly and she knew it! I was so surprised at her apparent brazenness that I could only mumble a disjointed, "Yes, oh errm, errrr, yes," in reply. "I will then!" and she slowly lowered them and stepped out. Now she looked at me almost pleadingly. She seemed to need my approval. Well, by heck, she had it. It was almost too much. "Oh my God Miranda, oh shit," I managed to blurt out, "fantastic, absolutely bloody fantastic." I think that was the approval she needed. The recognition that she was lovely. I was being completely out manoeuvred here, she was taking control as only a woman can when she finally realises exactly how beautiful, sexy, and attractive she is. We mere males have no chance do we? From leading I was now following, at least for the moment. She seemed pleased with herself, pleased with her decision, as she continued to watch me flounder. Trying to regain some semblance of control I said, "Shall I take some shots?" "No," she said as she walked towards me, "I think we need to release some pressure." Now she had me foxed. "Pressure?" "Yes," she said, "pressure." Then, looking down at my erection stretching my trousers, she said with a great big smile, "You look a bit uncomfortable." "Oh Miranda, I'm sorry." "What for?" she asked enjoying, I think, the idea of being in charge. "Well, you know, 'reacting'." "I don't think you should be sorry for 'reacting'," she said with a smile, "perhaps for not reacting. I think it's nice that you 'reacted'. Anyway," she went on, "I think I ought to do something about it." And with that she knelt in front of me, undid my slacks and dragged them to the floor. Now, given it's freedom, my cock shot to attention, the head poking above the waistband of my pants. She was slightly to one side and now her eyes were fixed on the bulge and the head as if gauging what to do next. Then, apparently having made up her mind, she grabbed the waistband and pulled them down. Her eyes widened in surprise. Look I'm not that well endowed but I am a bit bigger than average, about 8½ inches long and three round on a good day. She obviously hadn't seen one that size before and her face was a picture. She looked at my cock, then up into my eyes as if seeking approval for what she did next. I was rock steady. Can you imagine? Here is this woman I've fantasised over for the last few weeks kneeling at my feet, her hands and mouth only inches away from an erection that was begging for relief. For all that I didn't know what to do, what to say. It was as if we were both in a static tableau, stuck in a moment of indecision. In the end she must have read the desire and the need in my eyes because her hand came up and grasped my cock at the base and started to masturbate me. Well it didn't take long, about three strokes I think. Then bang, off I went. The first pulse, further than I'd sent one in ages, hit her shoulder and ran down on to the bra, the second, less strong, hit the bra full on. Her eyes widened in surprise. Subsequent pulses, weakening, dribbled onto her thigh and the stockings. All the while she was watching my cock wide-eyed, almost as if she'd not seen one before or, at least, not seen one cum at such close range. "Oh Miranda, Miranda, love. I'm sorry," I managed to say breathlessly. This was quite an achievement because she still had hold of my softening cock. Sadly, I can't maintain an erection very long after cumming, it's a curse of age I'm afraid, but it doesn't make my cock any the less sensitive just afterwards. My apology seemed to break into her apparent reverie. I hadn't noticed at the time, I had other things on my mind, but now I saw that her other hand was returning from between her legs. Did she orgasm, had she masturbated herself as she did me? She let go of my cock and seemed suddenly embarrassed, very embarrassed. "OH dear, oh dear," she looked in my eyes, "I don't know what came over me." I smiled, reached down, and touched her cheek gently, "I don't either," I said, "but I hope it does again!" She smiled shyly then said looking down at her spunk covered body, bra, and stockings, "I'd better get changed." "Mmm," I said. "I'm sorry, we didn't get any pictures." I smiled, "I can live with that," I said, "sod the pictures!" Now she seemed to have regained her poise, "Perhaps I can wear it next time?" "Will there be a next time?" I said seriously. I'm sure she knew what I meant. "Yes," she said holding my eyes with hers, "yes I think there will be." It was clear she had made a decision. "Good," I said with feeling, "good. Then wear it again." "I will," she said, "for you." Oh that I was thirty years younger, I thought, you wouldn't have to wear it again, I'd take you now but that wasn't to be. I smiled, "I look forward to that," I said then, "look, leave that in there, I'll sort it out." "No, no, it's all right," she said quickly, "I'll take it home and wash it. Don't worry." "Thanks. I'm sorry for messing you up." She smiled, at ease with the situation now, "I think I had something to do with it as well!" I laughed, "Yes, dressed, or rather undressed, in that outfit you're dead right." She laughed and went into the changing room. "I'll make some coffee," I shouted through the door, "see you downstairs." She came down about half an hour later. I wondered what she was doing up there. I'd heard the shower go but not for a while after I came downstairs. I had a sneaking suspicion that she might have been pleasuring herself. Good luck to her I thought. She looked radiant now, much more confident, certainly with me. Her smiles were full and her eyes met mine on every occasion. Seeing her like this pleased me, not only because I was sure now that I would achieve my aims, which I must admit, were beginning to change, but she seemed happier as well, as if her decision was made and she would go forward from here. My feelings were difficult to assess. Originally I just wanted to get a MILF back to the house and do all the things I'd seen on line. I still wanted to do that but the desire was tempered by the beginnings of a strong emotional connection with Miranda. Her position, her apparent 'flowering', her realisation of her own sexuality, were all having an effect on me, bringing a remembrance of the happiness I had experienced with my wife before her death. We didn't say much to each other over coffee, just minor chit-chat really. About the photographs and the video. Then I realised that, all the time, the VT had been on. I wondered how much it had caught. I smiled at Miranda, "I left the VT camera on," I said with a smile, "so our escapade may well be on film." "Oh dear," she said not embarrassed at all, "perhaps we can watch it next time." She was surprising me with regularity now so I had to say something. "Miranda love, you've changed?" "Mmm," she said with a smile, "you've changed me. You've showed me what I can be, what I can achieve. I'm not going back now. I'm enjoying myself," then she fixed me with her lovely smiling eyes, "aren't you?" "Bloody hell, Miranda, of course I am." "Good," she said in that self satisfied way women have when they have their chosen 'victim' in their sights, "good!" I laughed. She looked at the clock, "I think I need to get home now," she said, "Kirsten is phoning about next week. I'll phone you to arrange the next time, OK?" "OK," I said then added, "I can't wait!" She smiled again, that secretive, powerful smile of a woman in control! I drove her home this time, she didn't seem bothered about the neighbours now, and she leant over and pecked my cheek as she got out of the car - the first time she'd done that. I wanted to drag her back in and fuck the arse off her frankly but perhaps that was inappropriate! I got back and tidied up, watching the video as I did so. Unfortunately it wasn't up to much, I was in the way of almost everything. Mind you, the dialogue was quite sexy. It's amazing how much feeling was in the words. I thought that, if I was going to make a video like those on-line I'd have to give more thought to camera position. There were, however, some excellent pictures of her in the suspenders and pyjamas so I did have a quick wank, two in fact, over those as I lay in bed. I didn't know at the time but she told me later that she was doing the same. She hadn't washed the underclothes but had worn them to bed revelling in the feel of the material and, and this is strange, licking where the spunk had fallen: she wanted to taste me. She said she masturbated herself to sleep, cumming half a dozen times. Of course I didn't know how she had spent that evening so I was surprised to hear her voice on the phone the next morning. "Hi," she said with a smile in her voice, "it's Miranda. How are you?" "Great Miranda and you?" "I'm fine," she said then, "you said you work on weekdays. Do you work at weekends as well?" "Yes," I said, "I can work when I want." "What about tomorrow then?" "Yes, errr, fine. What time?" "Pick me up at 10. At home. Don't be late," she added with a smile in her voice. No, I won't, I thought. No way! I picked her up on the dot at 10 o'clock and she seemed happy to see me. As she sat in the car she leaned across and kissed my cheek, not a peck like last time but a real kiss. To say I was surprised was and understatement! "Hi," she said with a big smile. "Hi yourself," I managed to blurt out. "Wardrobe three today?" she asked with a smile. I took a deep breath as I drove off, "Yes Miranda, wardrobe three but only if you want to." "Oh, I do," she said, "I can't tell you how much." Oh shit, she was beginning to manipulate me already because I was starting to think about fucking her. Mind you my feelings were becoming quite difficult to identify. I was really pleased to see her and not just because my MILF hunt was progressing. She seemed so different, confident and assured. Again that fleeting feeling that she was so like my wife. We got back and, as we entered the house, she said, "I haven't seen the rest of your house. Why don't you show me around." Well, I didn't mind, in fact I hoped we would end up in the bedroom at some stage. Although my original aim, to film her being fucked in every way if that was possible, still existed, I did realise that that wouldn't really be for pleasure. You can't film a good fuck if you're enjoying it, you can't concentrate on two things at the same time, especially if one of them is a gorgeous woman: well I can't anyway. Even if someone else is filming, and I hoped a friend of mine would, (he is gay incidentally so he wouldn't be overly put off by what was happening because I knew he didn't fancy me!), you have to stop and start so it isn't for pleasure. I was beginning to feel that I wanted it to be good for her as well, not just a quick fuck for the camera. I didn't think that she'd ever been really satisfied sexually. I don't know why, it was just her sudden change as she realised her effect upon me. I showed her around, downstairs first. I have a very large kitchen cum breakfast room with a utility room off. A large lounge, dining room and downstairs study. It's finished off by a shower room and toilet. Upstairs, as well as the studio suite that she knew well, I had a very large master bedroom with a six foot bed and an en-suite with a four person shower that you could sit in. There were two other bedrooms, a computer room, and a big family bathroom with a whirlpool Jacuzzi bath and a shower. "It's nice," she said when I'd finished, "perhaps we can take some pictures around the house." Yes please, I thought, especially in the bedroom. "I'd like that," I said, "in fact I've got an idea I'll explain later ." "Mmm," she said, "that sounds interesting." Then, as we sat down to coffee she said, "About Friday . . ." "I'm sorry," I said, "I shouldn't have done that." She smiled, "No, don't be sorry." She looked me in the eye, seemingly confident now, "I enjoyed it. Do you know I've never seen that happen before, it was funny." I don't know whether she was kidding or serious. She was talking about it quite normally, as if it was a normal thing. I decided to play along, "What, you've never seen a man, you know . .?" She laughed, "No, not as much as that and that hard anyway." Then a touch of sadness mingled with anger, "We never did anything like that. My husband didn't seem interested." You poor woman, I thought, he must be some sort of idiot. Or was it just familiarity breeding contempt. "Did you dress like you have here for him?" "No," she said looking at me, "no I didn't." Then she said, almost as a plea, "It wasn't my fault was it, really?" This was dangerous ground for me. I didn't know the history but I suspected that their marriage had foundered as neither had worked very hard to keep it going. I was lucky. I had a fabulous marriage with a wonderful, truly wonderful woman. We had a serious problem after a couple of years of marriage which resulted in us both having affairs but, thank god (if there is one) we managed to sort ourselves out. After that we both worked hard at our marriage. You have to. Marriage isn't a walk in the park and it won't be really successful unless both parties make an effort. Our marriage worked because we both tried. We came to understand that what goes on in the bedroom is the basis for a happy marriage and satisfying each other sexually became important to us both. Sadly it had slowed down after out marriage. A slow down caused by all those usual problems, overwork and stress, deaths of loved ones, and the troubles of close friends. My wife was attractive and appealing but even so after our problems we both used clothing, stories, even adult movies sometimes, to increase our appeal to each other and to excite us both. I believe that a woman should be cosseted, complemented, and that a man should work at that to show her how much he cares. So, to play my part in the marriage I let her know how valuable she was to me. Thankfully it seemed to work for almost 16 years so something must have been right. I had to answer her question. "Miranda, darling, I can't say can I? I don't know you both. All I can say Miranda, is that you are a very attractive woman," I laughed trying to ease her mood, "as you can tell from Friday's performance. You caused that," I said looking at her intensely, "you and only you!" This seemed to cheer her up and she gave me a long and intense look. It appeared she'd made up her mind about something but I didn't know what. "Well," she said, "Friday was fun. Now, what have you got planned for today?" she asked with a strange smile. I smiled back, "Well," I said, "maybe we can take some pictures around the house. I've got a several outfits in the third wardrobe," I went on suggestively, "that will definitely make you look fabulous and we can use them in a number of settings." "That sounds like fun," she said with a degree of suggestibility that really had me on edge, "let's go upstairs and choose some things." So off we went to the studio where I gave her an outfit that, whilst not immediately sexy, suited her so well. "Can I really wear this?" she said, "it's so short!" "You can wear it," I said, "and it will look marvellous on you. Go on, try it on," then I added, "please." She gave me a look that seemed to ask a question. "I'd love to see you in this," I said, "I bought it with you in mind." And I had, I really did want to see her in this outfit. She smiled her soft smile and went into the changing room. I was right, she looked well, fantastic, but she wasn't sure. "Come out on to the landing," I said, "and let me look at you." The outfit consisted of a pink/red/white check pinafore dress not cut too low over her breasts but certainly showing plenty of cleavage without going over the top. It was waisted, being cut close to show her figure. It appeared that it had a separate skirt but it was all one piece. The skirt was short, not much longer than the mini she'd worn on Friday, although you couldn't see her knickers in the normal course of events! It was finished off with white thigh length self supporting stockings that had a tiny cloth bow in matching check fabric attached to the top. Add to this the three inch high white platform shoes. As she stood there in front of the bathroom door I had to take a very deep breath because she looked so shaggable it was unreal but I was conscious of something else as well. Familiar feelings were stirring inside me as I looked at her. Not just arousal but care, affection even. Feelings I had thought lost when Kate died. The dress showed off her figure to perfection. As I said, she didn't have a really narrow waist but she was in proportion. The cut of the décolletage showed just enough of the swell of her breasts to suggest a lot more. The whole outfit was a wonderful example of how clothing can make a woman so, so attractive. I must admit I stared. "You look fabulous," I said hardly able to take my eyes off her. "Go in the bedroom and look in the mirror." I had full length mirrors on the bedroom walls so she could see herself in all her glory. She came out smiling shyly, "It's too young isn't it. Far to young for me to wear." I smiled at her, "Nonsense, absolute nonsense. Miranda, it is you. Turn now, let me see the back." Now she smiled, "Later," she said with a coquettish look then she turned slightly and lifted her leg to rest her foot on a nearby chair. "How about like this," she said exposing her leg. Now she looked even better! The expression on her face was marvellous. She wasn't sure about it! She was showing an awful lot of leg, and rather delectable leg at that, and I could tell she was just a trifle shy, why I don't know considering that she had worn swimsuits. I suppose it's just the different clothing that sends a different message. Anyway, I thought she looked gorgeous! "Miranda," I said with a laugh, "you are a provocative minx. You're lovely. Now, let's do a few more." We did quite a few more pictures all around the landing and I was getting more and more excited by the minute. She was growing in confidence, confidence brought about by knowing the effect that she was having on me. I couldn't help it, my eyes were devouring her. Look, I'd always told myself that I wouldn't press things to hard with any of the women that I managed to photograph. I was very conscious that these weren't porn stars, they weren't going to drop their knickers at the drop of a hat and they certainly weren't going to get fucked up the arse on the first day! I felt that it would be better if I let them, now Miranda, take the lead if you like. Oh, I knew they wouldn't attack me, I'm adult enough to know that I'm not that attractive, but I felt that she would let me know, if you like, by her behaviour, that a further advance was acceptable. The trouble with this is that you have to be a very good reader of behaviour to access the right time. Miranda So many new experiences were coming at me all at one time that I was having problems processing them. A college freshman - finally! But all the daydreams about busting loose were tempered because I was also in the seminary. We weren't cloistered, but we sure did not have the opportunities that most college students have. Of course, the seminary was an all-boys school, but we also attended the nearby secular university for requisite college courses for our various seminary-related majors: psychology, philosophy, etc. One bright spot was Saturday evenings, believe it or not. The day before church day we were not only allowed to go and visit the city unsupervised, but if we requested we could also attend the college football game if they were playing at home. The rector thought it would be good if we traveled in a group and represented the seminary on the college campus as a beacon of chastity and goodness. He was almost 100% correct, too, because not a one of us voiced an impure thought. After attending a couple of home games, however, this began to change. It seems that no one at the seminary bothered to check when we came in. The game usually ended around 10:00 p.m. and we usually returned to the seminary between 10:30 and 11:00. We fully expected the rector to welcome us in and ask about the game, but that never happened. So one of the guys had an idea about what we could do after the next home game: why not go to the "strip?" I don't think I mentioned it, but I was a little farm boy from the country. I always made good grades in school and basically did whatever mom, dad, teacher or pastor asked me to do. Sure I had the same urges and feelings of every growing boy, and at eighteen I fought daily with primal feelings but offered them up as I sought my vocation. Here I was tempted by a fellow student on the path to enlightenment. Go to the strip? You mean where all the bars and crowds are? "It's just a couple of beers, not like we're breaking the law or anything," Randy countered my almost-voiced opposition. "We go, grab a beer or two. Have some laughs with our classmates at university and come home. Promise." I loved beer. My grandfather had been sneaking me beers since I was 15 years old. When I turned 18 I was so happy to be drinking legally that I really didn't realize that the seminary would have put a stop to it. But they did. Alcohol in any form was not allowed on the grounds. And I had not had a drop since I entered its doors. Two beers, huh? I bet if I drink fast I could have three or four! Oh, my brain was wandering down that slippery slope of rationalization. The next home game was two weeks later. A long two weeks, but something that gave me hope as the course load got heavier and heavier. There were five of us who signed up to go to the game. We had to sign-up to check against permission slips our parents had to sign for us to participate in extra-curricular off-campus activities. Dressed in our university colors we were indistinguishable from the rest of the crowd. We piled out of the Dodge van and made our way into the stadium meeting up with our regular group in the student section. We lost. We lost really big, too, but you could not tell from our faces. We were going to the strip! Then I heard Tommy groan and say "oh no." My heart sank. Who did he see? Was it Father McGinney? Another teacher? "It's Miranda," Randy yelled to a couple of us over the crowd. Who's Miranda, I thought. This very cute blond came out of the crowd straight for Tommy and let out a squeal. She hugged his neck while poor Tommy looked absolutely helpless, his arms at his side. "That's Tommy's sister," Randy told me. "She's a sophomore here, and Tommy doesn't approve of how she acts. He says she has way too much fun and doesn't pay enough attention to her studies." "She's pretty," I blurted out loud not really meaning to. "Oh she's a fox, all right," Randy winked at me, "and that's why Tommy's worried." "Hi guys!" Miranda squealed when she released her grip on Tommy but never really letting him go. "Are you protecting my little brother?" "Hi, Miranda," Randy said. "Remember me?" "Yeah, you're Randy!" she piped up. "And who are you guys?" Jerry and Lloyd offered their names, but I was completely tongue-tied. I've always been very shy around pretty girls, and Miranda really had my stomach doing flips. "And this is Brad," volunteered Lloyd, pointing to me as if I were a special needs case. I could have just dug a hole in the ground and climbed in because she immediately released Tommy from her grip and ran up to me putting her arm around mine. "Hi Brad, howya doin'?" she asked as she pulled my arm closer to her side. Still unable to speak I just kind of melted against her finally managing enough strength to mumble, "ok." She laughed and pulled me along with her. "Where are y'all going? Back to the convent?" she laughed again. Randy told her that we're all going to the Strip to get a beer. "SHUT UP! You're lying! Are you really?" She seemed positively excited. She looked me in the eye as if asking "really?" I shook my head and said "uh huh." "Can I ride with you guys? I don't know where Theresa and Mallory went, but it doesn't matter. They were walking back to the dorm. I'm going with you." We made it back to the van and Miranda and I squeezed into the center seat, her in the middle and me pushed against the far wall. There was only one sliding door to the passenger compartment. Lloyd was in the back and James on the other side of Miranda. Tommy rode shotgun while Randy drove. Miranda spoke endlessly mostly talking with Tommy about home. Every once in a while she would ask the rest of us about school and the seminary. And through it all she never let go of my arm. I don't know if it fell asleep or what, but I didn't care if she never let go. I watched the side of her face while she was talking across the front seat. She was very beautiful. Soft face, pretty blond curls. Even her voice sounded like a song. I knew right away that I had a major crush on her, and that was a big problem. I immediately started thinking about the seminary and chastity and purity. But then I'd look at her again and get this funny, twisty feeling in the pit of my stomach. Now, some part of reality made me know that she was probably treating me like a little kid. I was smaller than everybody else in the van, and certainly not as sure of myself as Randy and Lloyd. They spoke to her without hesitation. And although I was getting braver with her on my arm, or vice-versa, I still could only manage to get out some "uh huhs" and "yeahs." We stopped a couple of blocks from the Strip, which is basically five or six bars along this street. Mercifully or not Miranda released my arm to scoot out of the van. Apparently, her interest in me was short-lived because she led the way, obviously quite excited at leading a group of virginal boys to their debauchery. No one offered to buy her a beer because we were all too self-centered in getting our own. Before too long each of us was lost to the crowd, and I didn't see Miranda, Tommy or any of the crew for a while. Didn't matter; I was quite happy with my mug of draught. After about a half-hour Lloyd found me and asked if I had seen the others. We rounded up Jerry and Randy, and after a brief chit-chat I found that my assumptions were right. They had each had a single beer and I was about to finish my third. Needless to say I was feeling no pain and happy as a lark. Finally Tommy saw us all together and asked if we wanted to go to Drewberrys, another bar nearby. We all nodded our heads and left for the exit. Out of nowhere Miranda appeared from a group of people near the door and asked where we were going. "DBs" shouted Randy. I saw the pained look on Tommy's face. I figured he really didn't like the idea of spending the evening with his older sister. But I was happy to see her again, and after three beers I finally found my voice. "Well, look at you," she said after I asked her if she was having fun. "About as much fun as you, I guess!" She grabbed my arm again and almost skipped out of the door. Of course, I almost skipped with her. She was laughing and singing, and then she asked "how many did you have?" "Three!" I held up my fingers. "Me too!" she cried, "I like a guy that can keep up with me! C'mon." And we crossed the street to the next bar with the other guys behind us. I didn't even look back to see the looks on their faces. I didn't care. I was arm in arm with a pretty girl, and I just about forgot she was Tommy's sister. It felt good walking into a crowded bar with a beauty on my arm. I felt like a big shot, a college stud. No one needed to know I was a seminarian and she was a friend's sister. I bought each of us a beer, and the she kissed me on the cheek. The room just disappeared and all of a sudden there was silence. There was a warm spot on my cheek that suddenly became white hot. She kissed me? She kissed me! Holy crap! What was I feeling about now? I was so confused. I'm a seminarian I tried reminding myself. And I'm sitting in a bar with a beer in one hand and a pretty girl by my side. And she kissed me! I had no idea where any of the other guys were, and I didn't care. They would just confuse me further. Now wasn't the time to debate vocations and intentions - not with a full glass of beer in front of me. If I didn't believe in divine intervention what happened next would have convinced me. "So, why do you want to go to the seminary?" Miranda asked as if she were my personal counselor. I slurped my beer almost spilling some when I heard the question. "Oh sorry," she quipped reaching for napkins. "I just mean do you want to be a priest like Tommy, or do you think you're still trying to decide." I told her the truth - that I was searching for a vocation I felt I had. I was going to give it my best shot to see if it's true. She seemed to think about what I said as she sipped her beer. It was very loud in the bar so we just about had to shout at each other to be heard. I was thinking she was tired of hollering because she was being quiet. Then she leaned over and said loudly in my ear "Did you have a girlfriend in high school?" I had to think quickly what to say. Of course, I didn't. I went to the prom with a friend, but I couldn't call her my girlfriend. I had just a few dates but never with the same girl twice. So I said, "I had a few," hoping my lie wouldn't be obvious. "How many?" she yelled back. "Dunno. Didn't really count," I replied. "Let's go. It's too loud in here," she said touching my arm. We downed our beers and looked for the rest of the crew. She found Tommy and told him we're going to Pete's and that we'd meet him there. The parking lot was much quieter, and I could still hear ringing in my ears, so I had to ask her to repeat it when she asked again about my high school girlfriends. "Why do you want to know about them," I asked back, delaying the truth. "I dunno, just wanted to know, I guess." She seemed contented with my answer so didn't bug me about it again. I had to admit I was getting nervous about her probing. She had to know I was pretty inexperienced around girls, but I felt like I was handling my own with her pretty well about now. Tommy and the rest of the guys came out of the bar and asked if we were going to Pete's. Miranda nodded and we all took off with her and me trailing behind. When we got to the edge of the parking lot, Miranda grabbed my arm and quickly ducked around the side of the building behind some tall bushes or small trees, can't remember which but we were pretty much in the dark but could see through the leaves pretty good. "Let's see if they notice us missing," she whispered. "They're gonna think we're up to something." Then she giggled. That giggle completely upset my insides and my stomach started jumping. I stood behind Miranda against the wall and saw her leaning over peering through the leaves. The light from the parking lot just barely illuminated her backside, and I could see her white shorts covering her behind. I looked further and saw her shirt creep up exposing a little of her back. That little view of skin started my mind working, and I felt my loins begin to stir. This was not a good thing. I tried desperately not to ogle the pretty girl bent forward in front of me. Of course, she was completely oblivious to my stares as she constantly giggled about them finding us. I looked at her round bottom in her white shorts. Her cheeks were very round, it almost looked like a large bosom. It was impossible to stop now; my erection that had been growing was now very hard and very uncomfortable. I was afraid to adjust it fearing she would look back and catch me. The last thing I wanted to do was to embarrass her by letting her see that I was turned on by her. It felt so juvenile. I felt like I was back in middle school when I couldn't control my feelings and stuff, when I got erections all the time. When I couldn't stand it any longer I quickly reached beneath my waistband and placed my erection straight up since I couldn't move it down. From what I could see it looked less obvious that way, but it was still harder than usual. Prayer. That's why I need to do - pray for helping me through this ordeal. "I don't think they're coming back" she whispered and backed up to stand up straight when her behind bumped right into the front of my jeans. "Oh, sorry!" she whispered a little more loudly, then "Crap, what was that?" "Huh?" "What did I hit? Was that you? Holy crap was that you?" she said aloud as she turned around to face me. I have prayed for many things - health, weather, Cowboys winning the Super Bowl, but at that moment I prayed the hardest for the ground beneath me to open up and swallow me whole to save me from the most embarrassing moment of my life. "Good Lord, that is you! Holy Mary, did I do that to you?" I winced as she took the Holy Names in vain, but that didn't lessen the shock that ran through my body when I felt the palm of her hand press against my zipper. I yelped like a girl! "Miranda, for God's sake, what are you doing?" I panted in complete disbelief. "What do you mean, Brad? This is awesome! I didn't even think you liked me." She had an evil smile on her face. Then she began to rub her palm up and down my zipper pressing against my erection. Everything in me wanted to stop her from doing what she was doing, but I knew that I wouldn't or couldn't. "Miranda, don't..." I cried unconvincingly. "Shhhhh." She unbuttoned the top button of my jeans and tried lowering the zipper. She was having difficulty because I was so hard and pressing against the zip, but I am ashamed to say that I did nothing to stop her from trying. She got the zipper all the way down, and I just stood there completely at a loss as to what I should do. She peeled the sides back and tugged a bit on my jeans lowering them. I was embarrassed by the huge lump protruding obscenely from my white briefs. I didn't jump when I felt her hand against my briefs, but I could feel the extreme heat from her palm as she pressed it against me. "You are a very selfish person," she cooed as she rubbed me through my underwear. It was as if being awakened rudely. "Wha, what do you mean?" I stammered. "You're going to lock this thing away from all women. I think that's a mortal sin." "Miranda, we better not..." "Hush. You know you want to." Actually, I didn't know I wanted to. I didn't know what I wanted at that time, but I knew what she was going to do next, and she did it. She pulled the top of my briefs away from my body and pulled them down exposing myself to her. She wasn't content until she got my underwear all the way down past my knees, and I was completely exposed to her and completely embarrassed at being so vulnerable. "Oh - My - God." she mouthed. "Brad, if you've never used this on a girl before then it's a complete waste. Are you OK?" She heard me shudder and I'm sure the look on my face was almost one of pain. "It's ok, you know?" she tried reassuring me. "Just relax." Relax? There was no way I could relax when she did what she did next: she wrapped her hand around my penis and began to pull back and forth. The feelings were overwhelming and battling each other in my head. This is so wrong but feels so good. I've promised myself to never do this but I want to do this so bad. Finally, the devil won. I knew it was impossible for me to make her stop, and I knew it was impossible for me to want to make her stop. I wanted her to keep doing it and doing it. She certainly knew what she was doing. Her strokes were gentle and long, and every once in a while she would squeeze when she pulled the skin back. "Oh, Miranda," I moaned over and over. "Oooh, that's its. Just enjoy. I'm enjoying it." And her other hand reached beneath me and began rubbing me from below. I felt like such an animal, but all I could do was spread my legs and bend my knees giving her total a complete access to whatever she wanted. Like a dose of cold water she stopped. I opened my eyes wide expecting to see that we had been busted or that she was scared. Instead I saw her fumbling with the front of her shorts. "Shit, I can't stand this anymore," she said quickly. "What's wrong?" I pleaded, wanting nothing more than for her to keep doing what she had been doing. "Nothing's wrong, Darling. I'm going to baptize you," she said, and all at once she pulled down her shorts and her underwear to her ankles. It was too dark to really see anything, but I knew right there something big was about to happen. She turned back around with her bare behind now facing me, then she leaned over. "Come here," she said and I saw her hand reach from between her legs. I inched forward and felt her grab me and pull me toward her. My mind seemed to have left my body as I mechanically did whatever she wanted. But I desperately wanted my mind to return because I didn't want to miss a thing of what would happen next. I couldn't really see anything between us, but I felt her rub the tip of my erection against her right between her legs. It felt hot and wet, and I heard her moan like she was enjoying it. I know I was! She pulled me even closer even though I was already touching her, and then that's when I felt the tip of my penis push inside of her. "Oooh, there it is," she cooed again. "Now push," she commanded. I bent forward a little and rested my hands on her back and pushed my bottom toward her forcing myself inside. I never heard anybody ever mention a pleasure bomb going off in their head and loins, but that's what it felt like. It was like my entire penis was engulfing my body in this wave of pleasure that went straight to my brain and back again. "Oh shit!" she cried. "Are you OK?" I managed to grunt. "Oh, shit, I'm real good. Keep pushing, oh shit. Just keep..." And then I felt myself all of the way in. It was as if her insides had grabbed me and sucked me in completely. I almost felt stuck where I was, but I sure didn't feel the need to get unstuck. But then she started moving; she moved back and forth. If I thought I felt pleasure before it was certainly nothing like I was feeling now. I strained my eyes to see in the dark, and I could see the white globes of her behind moving back and forth over the white shaft of my erection. I couldn't help myself so I put my hands directly on her bottom and squeezed guiding her back and forth movement. Soon she started to shake a bit and her movements got unsteady. I heard her begin to cry and pant a little louder, her moans became like grunts. "Oh shit, I'm gonna come. I'm gonna come," she cried. Miranda At first I thought she was going to turn around or something because I didn't have a clue as to where she was coming. Then she let out what I can only describe as a squeal, and she stopped moving completely. Then she started to rock forward again and stopped. She did that about six times, and the last time she let out a yell and then almost collapsed in front of me dropping her head almost to her knees. "Oh stop, oh stop! I can't stand it. Wait!" she yelped, almost in tears. I really thought I had done something wrong now, and I started to become nervous and scared. She had her elbows resting on her knees as far as I could tell in the dim light, and she was breathing heavily. After what seemed like an eternity, but really was only about 15 seconds, she began to slowly straighten up. In that moment I saw the light shine on her behind and where my erection was lodged inside of her. I confessed that I spread her behind cheeks apart to get a better view, but it still wasn't good enough to see. As if she caught her second wind she straightened up a bit and began to move back and forth on me quickly. "I'm gonna make you come just like you made me," she panted. I thought she might have been speaking in riddles, but I didn't pay attention because her renewed vigor made me even harder. She was no longer bent over but now standing almost erect in front of me. I had to bend my knees to keep from falling out, and I grabbed her by her waist to hold her up. My hands slipped up higher, and when she felt me she said "All you guys gotta feel the tits, huh?" And then she lifted up her shirt and I felt her tugging on her brassiere until it fell on top of my hands. I felt her hands grab my wrists and pull them up to her. Then I felt her bare breasts and she rubbed my hands on them. I took her cue and began rubbing on my own. "Are you gonna come yet?" she grunted in my ear. "Where do you wanna go?" I asked quizzically. She laughed, "I mean are you ready to shoot off. Shoot off your sperm. You can shoot off in me. I'm on the pill." So now I understood what she meant. She asked if I was ready to ejaculate like I did in wet dreams. Well this was unlike any wet dream I ever had, but I was ready. She then bent at the waist and I felt her breasts leave my hands. I grabbed her by her hips and felt like an animal. She was no longer moving back and forth on me; I was pushing in and out of her. Despite all of the pleasure I felt there came a tiny spark somewhere in the base of my balls. It was a pleasure bomb, for sure, and I felt it completely encompass the length of my erection. Without really knowing what to do I pushed forward until I was fully lodged inside of her. I heard a guttural scream in the air, like a trapped beast escaping; and then I realized that I was making the sound. My whole body shook and I felt myself pump into her without really moving. I felt my erection grow larger and larger as I sprayed into Miranda. Six or seven times I felt myself explode, and with each one she'd let out a high-pitched grunt. Finally, I literally collapsed on her back, me still inside of her. After almost a minute of nothing but heavy breathing, she turned her head and with a giggle asked, "You OK?" "I don't know," was all I managed to grunt. She moved forward slightly, and I felt myself slip out of her. I got off of her back and backed up against the wall still trying to catch my breath. She turned around to face me with a huge smile. The vision I beheld was breath-taking even though I was already out of breath. There she stood with her shirt and brassiere pulled above her breasts. Her pants and panties were below her knees, and the street lamp illuminated everything. "I don't think your soldier's all the way dead," she said with sort of a laugh. I looked down and saw that I was still about half hard, which really surprised me because I had "come" so violently. I guess seeing Miranda looking like that caused me to stir again and very quickly. "One more?" she asked with open eyes. I could only pant, "uh uh, we better get back." I couldn't believe I was refusing. Sure I wasn't experienced, but it certainly was the best thing I ever felt in my life. But I was so out of breath that I wasn't thinking straight. "OK. Whatever," she tossed over her shoulder as she began to straighten her garments. I watched with a pang of disappointment as the pulled her bra up over her beautiful breasts. She then stuffed her shirt into her pants and zipped up her shorts. I could smell the sex in the air, and I stood there soaking up the scent. "You ready," she asked turning around, and then she laughed "No, I guess not. Sure you dont wanna do it again?" I just shook my head. "Is that no you don't wanna, or no you're not sure?" she teased. "I wanna," I finally panted. "Maybe later," she laughed again and came to me helping me straighten myself. I managed to tuck my semi-hard dick down into my underwear, and she laughed watching me do it. She buttoned my shirt, zipped my fly and then rubbed my crotch which caused me to groan. "Let's go!" she sang and she was off out of the bushes. Outside of a bar a couple of blocks away we spotted Lloyd who was standing alone with a beer in his hand. He kind of jumped when he saw us. "Hey," he yelled, "where have you guys been? Tommy's been looking for you, Miranda." "Tell Tommy that I'm a big girl, and if I want to play in the bushes with his friend that's my business," she replied curtly. I felt my face start to turn twelve shades of red and Lloyd shot me a look of of shock that I couldn't face, so I turned away. We left him there speechless and went into the bar. Tommy and Randy were both at the bar, and Miranda quickly made her way through the crowd almost skipping and jumped behind Tommy grabbing his shoulders almost making him spill his beer. "What the hell?" Tommy shouted trying to spin around quickly but carefully to keep the beer inside of the can. "I thought you went home. Where were you?" "Brad and I were just walking and talking," she replied innocently. Tommy looked at me as if looking right into me, but then quickly turned his attention back to Miranda. I guess he figured if she were with me then no harm could come to her. "Well, ok, you need money for a beer?" he asked as only a big brother could. "No, thank you," she answered retrieving a twenty from the impossible confines of the pocket of her shorts. "I'm buying one for Brad and me." Tommy shot another glance my way, and I saw Randy chuckle into his beer facing away from us. "He's that good of a talker?" Tommy asked looking straight at me. "You would not believe!" she gushed. I stood there speechless as Tommy's eyes continued to bore into me, but mercifully Miranda turned around with two beers shoving one into my hand. We left their company, and I was grateful for our departure. We went outside and sat on an old picnic table on the side of the building to drink our beers in relative silence. It really wasn't quiet out there, but the din inside made it appear so. I felt kind of strange sitting with her drinking a beer and neither one of us were talking. I racked my mind trying to think of something to say, like 'boy, you felt good,' or 'your tits are very pretty,' but stopped short before revealing myself to be an idiot. "Was that really your first time?" she finally asked not facing me. "I promise it was. I have never... uh, made love to another woman before. That was fantastic..." "Well, you're great at it," she cut me off. "You're fantastic, as a matter of fact. You're a gentle lover, and it's a good thing because with that telephone pole between your legs you could hurt someone." I didn't know how to respond except with a little "thank you." And it was quiet again. Finally, she broke the ice again, "I don't want to seem greedy..." Then she grabbed my arm and pulled me into the shadows again leaving our beers on the table. --- I saw Miranda a lot that semester, and we enjoyed each other as often as we could. I never became a priest or stayed in the seminary much longer after that. Sadly, I never saw Miranda again after that first year. I heard that she didn't make the grades. Tommy did become a priest, and we visited at our 10th year college reunion last year. It was great to see him again, and we caught up on old times and what I was doing now, where I was living. I told him that I had a failed marriage, but was trying to get my stuff together. It took a long time before I asked about Miranda, and I found out she was only living a few miles away in Heatherfield. She was divorced and had a little girl. I told him to tell Miranda hi when he saw her. About three weeks after the reunion I was sitting in my office late one afternoon when my phone rang. I looked at caller ID and saw that it was a Heatherfield number. I picked up the phone and didn't even say hello. "Hi Miranda..." Miranda Miranda was surging, her mind was hard, and she needed to fuck someone. Sometimes, Miranda felt as if she could grow a dick just by closing her eyes and forcing the sex hormones in her body down like daggers between her well-shaped, muscular thighs. When she felt particularly fired up, this thought would cross her mind. If she couldn't grow a dick, maybe she could pick a fight, down some Jim Beam, or just get fucked. Get fucked, harder than she's ever been fucked. Or, she could simply strap one on and fuck a hot man up his tight ass. Punch, punch, punch, punch. Into her cell phone, a brief text message to the Boy. "Get over here. Now." Reply, "Fifteen minutes?" Reply, "Ten." Reply, "Yes." The fact that the "Boy" was a professional handsome man roughly her age notwithstanding; in this context, he was strictly the Boy. And her Boy needed to get fucked. How did she know? She didn't, and what's more, she didn't care. His needs were irrelevant. He'd get fucked. He'd like it. He always did, as did she. Mutually assured destruction of wants. She kept the apartment dark, as was her custom. As soon as the bell rang, she was ready. Striding quickly in her four-inch black pumps, she opened the door just wide enough for his slim body to gain access. His leather jacket, damp from the rain, already smelled like rawhide and chilled her as she pulled him close and kissed him hard, consuming his lips as his face grazed hers, his stubble providing a satisfying and slight burn. The kiss, hard and urgent, seemed to last hours but ended with her hard shove against his chest. She slid her strong leg between his, pressed her full chest against him, pinning him against the brick wall. Her hands free, she was able to rip free enough duct tape to shut his wanting mouth. She'll hear enough from him later, but now she demanded his compliance and his silence. His steely blue eyes burned with passion and not a small amount of fearful anticipation, staring into her deep brown eyes. Without breaking her gaze, she pulled his hands behind his back, winding tape around his wrists and muscular forearms without detaching it from the roll. With a sharp rip, Miranda secured his wrists and skillfully slid down, crouching in front of the Boy's twitching cock but barely acknowledging it. She carelessly undid his pants and pushed them to the ground, pulling them off over his shoes. Almost angrily, Miranda pulled the Boy's shoes off; almost gently, she pulled his tenting damp boxer shorts over his tense muscular legs and removed them. Clad in a Tshirt and tape, the Boy looked almost helpless. She slipped the roll of tape behind his thighs and unrolled a length; he winced, knowing the pain to come later. She strapped his thighs together in three quick winds of the tape, smoothing it down just beneath his swollen balls. Miranda stood up and allowed herself a brief moment to admire her work. She grasped his bound wrists and shoved him awkwardly towards her darkened bedroom. The Boy tottered like a kimono-clad geisha, stutter-stepping and sliding across the floor. Miranda kept a firm grip on his shoulder as she urged him along. Entering the bedroom, Miranda gave him a hard shove, landing him face-down and helpless on the bed, which, if it's not clear, was exactly where he belonged. Not a word was spoken as Miranda slipped off her skirt, revealing a well-worn studded leather harness, secured over her voluptuous hips and nearly obscuring her black lace panties. The rough leather straps contrasted with her smooth black lace-top stockings. Miranda ran her hand over her curvy thigh, feeling the contrasting textures, heat and wetness building behind the lace. Miranda grasped the Boy's shoulder, pushing him on his back so he could watch; see, be seen, but not heard. Perfect. His cock was unstoppable, growing fiercely hard in anticipation. She raised one leg, balancing her heel on the edge of the bed, as she reached over the Boy to retrieve her firm silicon play-cock. Six inches long and nicely thick, soft to the touch but firm enough to fuck, it was her favorite, and his too, despite the tremble that washed across his tight body whenever she brought it out. He watched, wide-eyed, as she caressed it, fitting it expertly into the ring on the front of the harness. Sometimes, he knew, she would tear the tape from his face and force him to suck her cock; tonight, however, she just wanted to fuck. Miranda had a bottle of lube handy, but didn't need it just yet. Its presence, casually tossed on the bed, was simply a reminder of what was shortly to come. She stroked her own cock expertly, as he watched intently, and then moved her hand to his flesh-cock, caressing with her soft hands, running her fingers up and down the shaft, teasing his balls on the downstroke. She could hear him groan behind the firm swath of tape across his lips; his eyes closed, his legs pressed together making his cock rise even higher. She continued to stroke him until copious trails of precum streamed from the head, wetting her fingers. Her hand roamed past his balls, between his bound thighs, finding sufficient space to slip her hand between and caress him just behind his swollen package. Miranda's fingers were firm, circling the sensitive spot between his cock and ass with gently increasing pressure. The Boy was transported by the sensations, moaning deeply behind his gagged lips. His eyes closed for a moment, then opened to see Miranda's finger slide lasciviously between her pouty lips. In and out her finger slid, wetting it generously as she smiled at her helpless Boy. Roughly, she flipped the Boy onto his stomach; he wriggled awkwardly as his rigid cock pressed into the mattress. Her firm hand on his shoulder stopped his wriggling, as her wet finger began to probe his tight, wanting asshole gently. No sense in rushing; patience was the key; anticipation would heighten, the Boy would relax and tense simultaneously, knowing what was to come. One wet finger, then two. Sliding in and out. Without stopping, she reached across the bed and the helpless Boy for her bottle of lube. Sliding in and out with one hand, she poured a generous complement on her strapped-in cock, rubbing it with the other hand to spread and warm it, readying herself. As she stroked the silicone spear between her legs, her soaking hand wandered between her thighs, into her now-dripping cunt, mixing the lube with her own wetness on her hand and on her masterful toy. Now, the toy, and she, were soaked and ready. So was the Boy, whose helpless hard cock was dripping profusely. He drew his knees up, presenting his stretched and tense ass in the air, responding to the pressure of her hand and her movements on the bed behind him. Her wet hand pushed between his crack as she slowly removed her two fingers, dripping in lube and her juices with her damp hand. She kneeled on one knee, expertly positioning the cock at the horizon of his open and now-lubed asshole. Her strap-on was soaked with lube and slowly pushed against him, finding its way inside, the soft-firm head popping in causing the Boy to let out a muffled cry of anguished pleasure. She slowly thrust her leather-strapped hips forward, pushing it further and further in, burying the slickly wet hilt inside him. Her hands gripped his tensed hips and muscular ass more surely, as she rhythmically began to thrust and pound him fully. They were joined, cock in ass, his man-cock throbbing as she fucked him with abandon, clenching her thighs as they pressed against his, closer and closer. Miranda could feel him bucking back against her as he was overcome with the crazy sensations. She slid a hand underneath his belly, stroking his cock as she continued to pound his ass. Faster, harder, deeper, until all at once she pulled out, causing the Boy to jump, falling face down into the mattress helpless and quivering. She speedily slit the tape at his wrists, and roughly shoved him onto his back. Her timing was perfect. He immediately grasped his swollen cock, gripping and stroking it as Miranda watched breathlessly. She slipped a fresh, large dildo into her dripping pussy, shoving aside the leather harness and her nearly torn panties, pushing the substantial shaft upwards as she clenched it with her cunt-muscles. Standing, watching the gagged and excited Boy bring himself off, Miranda could barely contain her own ecstacy, fucking herself as hard as she'd fucked the Boy, moaning, her back arched and her thighs trembling. First the Boy came, hard, his taut body practically levitating from the bed as come shot from his cock. Then, Miranda dropped to her knees, clutching the dildo inside her, wave after wave of orgasm wracking her body. She tore the tape from his mouth, and their hard ragged breathing were the only sounds to be heard. Miranda My thanks go to my proofreaders LadyCibelle, and my friend SH, for attempting to sort out all of my co... foul-ups! But I must remind the reader that I still retain my annoying habit (Well I would be surprised if I doesn't get right up their noses, after all the effort they put in on my behalf!) of fiddling with my tales of woe, almost every time that I open them. So blame for typos, spelling mistakes and all grammar foul-ups, should be laid at my door. Miranda I must admit she still looked as beautiful as she ever had; well, I could see through the forlorn expression on her face. Five foot two and with a figure that could raise any red-blooded man's blood pressure; I'd thought she was a special gift to me from heaven when we'd first met. I'd pursued her, wooed her and eventually convinced her to marry me. For seven years, my whole world had revolved around her. Now there she was, standing on the pavement in the drizzling rain, outside a block of flats in the city. Two suitcases at her feet and a table lamp in her hand. I remembered that table lamp, it was one that her mother gave her; it was the only piece of furniture she'd taken from the house. I'm not really sure how long I stood hidden in that shop doorway watching her; wondering what she intended to do; besides get soaked to the bone, that is. After a long time, I began to realise that Miranda really had no idea what she was going to do; no matter how many other people had foreseen what was going on, this turn of evens had taken Miranda completely by surprise. I'm not sure what I was intending to do as I stepped from my hiding place in the doorway, put my umbrella up and confidently walked the fifty yards or so to where Miranda was standing. I believe I was intending to play it by ear and just react to whatever Miranda said or did. Possibly, Miranda didn't recognise me, until I got up close to her; maybe because of the umbrella that I held low to keep the rain off as much as was practical. But when she did finally realise exactly who was approaching her. What I can only describe as a defensive or maybe even a little apprehensive expression came over Miranda's face and she glanced around quite nervously, as if looking to see there was anyone who could come to her assistance. I have no idea whether Miranda thought that I was going to attack her or what; but that was sort of impression that I drew from her actions and general demeanour. However by the time I finally arrived near to her, she must have decided to put a brave face on things and brazen it out. "Hi Miranda!" I said when I got close enough for her to hear. "Hello Harry, what are you doing here?" She replied turning her head away slightly, so that I couldn't see her face." "Well, to be honest, I did come to gloat. But... well I came to gloat but now I wish I hadn't." "What do you mean gloat, gloat over what?" She spat back at me. "You, getting evicted from your lovely flat!" I informed her. "You knew that I was going to be evicted from my flat today?" She asked, obviously amazed that I did if the tone of her voice was any indication. "Come on, Miranda; technically you weren't evicted, because it wasn't your flat. It was your loverboy's flat, his name was on the lease and he wasn't going to pay the rent after he'd cleaned you out and done a runner, now was he? It was just a matter of time before the landlords got impatient for their money, kind of left you holding the baby though didn't he." Miranda looked embarrassed for a few moments, and I do believe she thought she'd try to bluff it out. "You don't know what you are talking about! Sven is away on a business trip, he got delayed for a few days that's all. Unfortunately, we have a minor cash flow problem, until the deal he's working on goes through. He'll be back in a day or so, to sort everything out. We are moving to another flat, an upmarket penthouse apartment. That's why we terminated the lease on this flat. Sven being delayed has just temporarily thrown our schedule out by a week or so." Miranda blustered. "Is that so? So tell me, where are you intending to live until loverboy returns, Miranda? I asked, I was beginning to get annoyed that she was lying to me. But then I realised that she was probably lying out of embarrassment for the situation she had suddenly found herself in. Although I suppose there was the possibility that she still hadn't realised what had happened and the gravity of her situation. "I'm going to stay with my sister for a few days until Sven gets back into the country. I just can't understand why my taxi is taking to long to get here; I called it hours ago." Miranda bluffed. I doubted she'd called a taxi, because I was pretty sure that her purse - much like I knew her bank accounts were - was completely empty. The private detectives report I had in my pocket virtually assured me of the fact. I could have called her bluff... I could have walked away and left her standing in the rain... but I still felt a little affection for the mother of my children. "I'll tell you what; it doesn't look to me as if your taxi's going to show in a hurry; why don't I run you over to Karen's place. It's been a long time since I saw her and the baby." Miranda gave me a sideways glance; she had been avoiding looking me in the eye all the time I'd been talking to her. Yeah well, they say that not many people can lie to you and look you in the face at the same time. "I suppose I might as well accept your gracious offer; it does look as if my taxi has let me down." She replied, with a resigned tone to her voice." "Come on then?" I said cheerily, holding out my umbrella for her to take so that I could pick up her two cases. See no matter what a bitch Miranda had turned into, I couldn't shake off the fact that basically, I am a gentlemen. Taking the brolly in her free hand, she followed me to my car. "You've got a new car!" She exclaimed, after at first looking confused as I opened the boot of the Beemer. "Yeah, it's only a company car, but it suits me and the kids fine for a run around. Little sods won't stop playing with the electric windows though, well you know what they're like?" Actually, I was very proud with my new company car that came with full leisure usage; but I didn't want to state the fact to Miranda. Before she left me, I had been struggling to run two second hand cars for us, and pay the bloody mortgage as well. "How are the children?" She asked, as she settled in the front passenger seat. Fine, fine! Missing their mother of course, but that's to be expected. My purposeful mention of the children had done what I'd intended it would do, and jolted Miranda's conscience over the fact that she hadn't come down to visit them recently. "I'm sorry about that; I've been missing them as well. But I've been so busy lately that I just haven't been able to find the time. I'll try to get down next weekend. It's your fault really, if you hadn't moved them out to the middle of nowhere, it wouldn't be so far for me to have to travel. "What did you expect me to do Miranda? You demanding half our assets, forced me to sell the house, I warned you about that. And you also knew that Carter had been bugging me to go and work for him for years. The only reason I hadn't was because you insisted that we stay in the city. Well, houses are cheaper down there and I got a massive increase in salary when I took Ben Carter up on his job offer. Enough for me to be able to employ a nice housekeeper to look after the children; after all their mother has other interests now." Surprisingly Miranda didn't take the bait or retaliate, but I hadn't expected her to really; she might be gullible, but she wasn't that stupid. If she had risen to the bait and gone onto the attack, I might well have stopped the car and told her to get out. That would have left her in the same pickle she'd been in before I'd approached, stuck out in the rain with no money in her purse to get to her sister Karen's flat. Miranda stayed silent for the rest of the journey. I almost dropped the bomb on her during the trip, but a plan had begun forming in my head. Karen and I had always got on, and Karen is also pretty nosey; if I could drop the hint about my new housekeeper to her, she'd surely ask the right questions. "Oh Harry, this is a surprise. Er, what have you got there? Karen asked looking down at the suitcases I was carrying, as she opened her door. "Miranda's cases, apparently she's going to be your house guest for a while." I replied with a grin on my face. I'd managed to stay in front of Miranda as we exited the lift, her two suitcases I was carrying had prevented her passing me in the narrow corridor. The expression on Karen's face told me that she definitely wasn't expecting her sister to come and stay. "Sven's been held up abroad and we haven't signed the lease on the new flat yet. I'm at a little bit of a loose end until he arrives!" Miranda blurted out from behind me by way of explanation. "And you volunteered to drive her over here?" Karen asked giving me a quizzical look. "Yeah I just happened to come across Miranda standing on the corner out in the rain and... Well I thought that if she stood there for too long the local police might pick her up for soliciting. Wouldn't like something like that to get back to the children!" I grinned at Karen. "How dare you?" Miranda started to say, but Karen was on top of the situation. "Miranda. Don't get out of your pram; Harry's taking the piss. Christ, you should know what his sense of humour is like, you were married to him for long enough!" Then she went on, "I wish you'd given me some notice Miranda the spare room is an absolute tip." Karen said as she led us into the flat and then to me. "Coffee Harry?" "Yeah fine, black and strong; you know how I like it, Karen." I replied. "You're not kidding big boy. But not so much of the black I don't think!" Karen grinned at me. "Alright coffee black! My women a little on the pink side." I assured her. "What are you two going on about?" Miranda demanded. I guess she picked up on the innuendo in Karen's and my voices. "Nothing that should concern you sister. You and Harry were divorced by then." "I don't believe it! My sister and my ex-husband?" Miranda gasped. "Haven't you got any family loyalty? "Sister, a woman who steps out on her husband and children, shouldn't try to lecture anyone about family loyalty. Now you are welcome to use my spare room for a while, but you can tidy it up yourself. I'm going to make everyone some coffee! Coming Harry?" Karen grinned at me. Karen hadn't been too enamoured when she'd learnt that Miranda had walked out on me. She'd been even less enthralled to learn that Miranda had shacked up with Sven and left the children behind. More than a few times she'd come over to commiserate with me and because I had been feeling that it was a failing on my part that had lead Miranda to leave. Karen had taken it upon herself to make sure I knew that it wasn't. It's a shame that there was no real chemistry between us, but by Christ, was Karen good in bed. Mind she didn't actually climb into my bed until after the divorce was final. I liked Karen and she liked me, but there were no feelings that we could build an emotional relationship on. Except that we both like shagging and just about every other form of sex. For a time we discussed it, but we both knew that there was never going to be a long-term future in it. "How's the new house?" Karen asked as she poured the coffee. "Fine, the kids love it and my new housekeeper is brilliant with them. Helps that she has two children of her own about the same age, I suppose. Mind the children had a language problem at first, but they are getting around that now." "A language problem?" Miranda's voice came from behind me somewhere. "Yeah sure, my housekeeper is Dutch; but her two little ones are picking up the lingo all right. I think in the long-term all the children could end up being bilingual, they talk a kind half Dutch half English between them, bloody confusing until you get the hang of it." I assured them. "Where did you find this housekeeper?" Karen asked. This was good, Karen's curiosity had been piqued, and she was asking the right questions from my point of view. "Oh, I ran into her in Holland almost a year ago, while I was doing some research. She had been widowed and then she'd got involved with a guy who turned out to be a real con artist. Seems he goes around Europe seducing women and well... then the bugger talks them out of their money and does a runner with it. Usually he gives them some bullshit about a big deal he's got going that's going to make them rich, but he needs some help to finance it. He left poor Eda without a penny to her name! "Well, when I needed a housekeeper, I remembered her. She wasn't sure about moving to the UK, but I think she's happy enough that she did now. We're thinking about making it a permanent arrangement." "Permanent?" Karen quizzed. "Oh yeah, I bought her a ring the other week. Funny that we just kind of fit together. Isn't that how you how described it with you and Sven, Miranda?" I asked. "Well... Um, yeah there was just a sort of emotional bond that grew between us." Miranda replied. "This guy who took all Eda's money. Does he have a name?" Karen asked. The suspicion obvious in her voice. "Oh sure, he's got plenty of names. Tends to change his surname a lot though, but he nearly always calls himself Sven something or the other." "Not!" Karen asked. "Yeah, it sure looks like it, Karen!" I replied with a... little smile. I didn't want to overdo it. "You're lying?" Miranda screamed from behind me, at the same time striking me on my back. After I got over the shock, I turned to face her. "No Miranda, your man Sven was arrested in Amsterdam last week. That money you gave him he was trying to set-up a drugs deal with. In a way you were lucky, had the deal gone through you would have lost the lot. As it is, the British police have been tracking it and you have a good chance of getting it back. It was a close call, let the deal go through and then have Sven locked away for years. Or throw a spanner in the works and he'd only be nicked for conspiring to import drugs into the Netherlands. I figured you'd need some money to live on." "You, threw the spanner in the works?" Karen asked. "Yeah well, it cost me a few bob but I had some private detectives watching him. They just had to jump the gun a bit and call the Dutch police in." "But why, surely you had reason to want him put away forever? After all he broke up your marriage." Karen said. "What marriage? Miranda couldn't wait to find someone else. If it hadn't been Sven what's his name, it would have been some other flash git. No actually, he did me a big favour really; I got rid of a selfish bitch and found myself Eda. Oh don't worry, he won't get off that lightly in the long term, there's half a dozen different police forces all queuing up to nab him for con games he's played on women all over Europe. Once he gets out after one stretch in prison, they'll hand him to another police force for the next charge. "Right I think we're done now. Miranda, here's the number of a very nice policeman who should be able to get your money back for you, eventually." I said rising to me feet. "But why did you worry about getting Miranda's money back?" Karen asked. "Not much else I could do, Karen. Can't have a bag lady or lady of the night, calling at my house to visit my kids, can I? Some time during my little tirade Miranda had taken a seat; she was by then staring at me with her mouth open. She never even flinched when I mentioned prostitution again, which to my mind is possibly the only way Miranda could earn a decent living. But that might just be me, being vindictive. Karen stood and came with me to the door. "You're better off without her, you know! I wish you and Eda well!" "Pity I ran into the wrong sister first, Karen. Had we been younger we might have..." "Don't say it, Harry! Sometimes I get the same thoughts myself." Five minutes later I was driving away from Miranda for the last time. I owed her nothing and she had no call on me any more. Life goes on This story is posted on the site with the Author's knowledge and consent. Miranda I had escaped the house again, running as always to my safe haven to get away from one of my father's drunken tirades. On most days the small park was normally quiet and empty, and I could have the swings all to myself, letting all of my problems fly out of me. Today was not one of those days. Her arms were wrapped around the chains, rocking her feet against the ground so that she moved slightly back and forth. Her black hair hung in two braided pigtails on either side of her head, and a pair of glasses sat on the bridge of her nose. But what caught me was the lollipop that sat between her lips; lips that were as cherry red as the candy she was sucking on. I watched as her tongue swirled along the surface of the candy, licking and sucking until it glimmered with a sheet of her saliva. I felt a flush of heat across my face, and something stirred between my legs. My eyes darted back up to meet hers and I saw her staring at me intently. She pulled the candy from her lips with a small pop, and smirked at me. Her name was Miranda. She had moved to the town after her parents kicked her out. She would be attending the community college with me in the fall. After half an hour of a mostly one sided conversation, she invited herself back to my house. I was a bit scared to take her back; I wasn't sure what state my father would be in. But I didn't have many friends, and so I was eager for the company. And Miranda was so dynamic I don't think I could have refused her. Luckily when I opened the door I heard my father snoring on the couch, passed out in some alcohol induced stupor. I quickly led her past him and upstairs to my room, where I shut and locked the door. Miranda made herself at home in my room. She walked around and touched my things. She jumped on my bed, her shoes still on, which made me cringe. As she sat there bouncing around excitedly, her eyes landed on my laptop sitting open on my desk. Something mischievous sparked in her eyes at that moment and she looked at me. "Do you mind if I rub one off? We've been in the car for days, I haven't had any release." My eyes narrowed slightly in confusion. Rub one off...? She hadn't waited for me to respond. She had already bounded off the bed and crossed the room, sitting in the chair excitedly and pulling open a browser. "I think I'm in the mood for some cocksucking, don't you think?" she said as she typed something into the address bar and pressed enter. A website popped up and a barrage of images appeared on the screen. I managed to move from my spot and walk up behind her to get a better look. Then I realized that the images were actually thumbnails of video clips with women and men in various states of undress. Full, rounded tits with hard nipples, pussies shaved bare and dripping wet, ass cheeks spread wide open, cocks stuffed into every possible hole, mouths licking and sucking hungrily at whatever they could latch on to... I stared at the screen, transfixed, but Miranda was busy typing something else into the search bar. Before she could finish, I managed to breathe out, "Miranda... what do you think you're doing?" She looked over at me, a mock innocent smile on her face. "What? Don't tell me you've never watched porn before?" I blushed and lowered my eyes. It couldn't tell her that the closest I had come to looking at porn was watching videos of girls kissing, that I was too afraid of my father to do anything more... when I didn't respond, she smirked, and turned back to the screen and hit enter. The page refreshed and the thumbnails changed: thick, long cocks shoved into mouths, cum and saliva dripping down the shafts, spread messily over pink, full lips; two tongues lapping at a swollen head, pre-cum glistening off the tip... My breath caught in my throat. I knew about porn, I knew about blowjobs... but I didn't know about this. Miranda was scrolling casually through the page, seemingly unfazed by the litany of dicks and the tongues flicking over them. She stopped scrolling, made a contented little noise, and clicked on one of the thumbnails. The video popped up and started playing right in the middle of the action. My room was assaulted with gasps and moans, and a shot of fear spiked through me at the thought of my father waking and catching us. I told Miranda to turn it down, but she ignored me, fixated as she was on the scene playing out before her. Reluctantly, I turned my gaze towards the screen as well. A woman with hair as dark as hers was on the screen, wearing a white t-shirt through which her nipples poked out, and short shorts that rode up her ass, tantalizing the viewer with promises of her soft round cheeks. She was leaned over, head buried in the crotch of some faceless man. The video jumped to a new angle and we saw the mouth glued to his cock. His dick was huge, and it seemed to grow even bigger at the tip. She deftly bobbed her head up and down on his shaft, working him simultaneously with one of her hands. The camera pulled back as she lifted her mouth up off of his dick with a small pop. She opened her lips slightly, letting a drop of saliva fall onto the head of his cock. She rubbed it over the length of his shaft, one strand still clinging to her pouty lips. And then her mouth was back on his cock, and he was moaning in ecstasy and she was gasping around his prick and the heat was back, the stirring in between my legs, and I started shifting my weight from one leg to the other, trying to make the feeling go away... Out of curiosity my eyes darted back over to Miranda, who hadn't said a word, and now I could see why -- her legs were spread wide open in the chair and her shorts had come off. One hand was rubbing small circles over her panties, where I could see a dark wet spot; the other was gently caressing her breasts, pinching and squeezing her nipples through the fabric of her shirt. Her eyes were open and fixed intently on the scene before her. I toyed with the idea of letting my own hand sneak down to that spot between my legs, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. There was a new angle now, the camera behind the woman and pointing up at her ass. It swayed seductively from side to side as she continued to pump her mouth up and down on the man in front of her. I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through me at the sight of it. My hand trailed up the side of my body, my palm landing innocently on one of my breasts. They stopped in the middle of their action to take the woman's shirt off, and the man began greedily licking at her tits. Another jolt through my body. They were small but perky, her nipples stiff and erect from his touch, and I squeezed my own as I stared at them. The woman leaned back down and I was slightly disappointed at the loss of the sight of her boobs. She pushed the man's cock up so it was flush against his stomach and took one of his balls into her mouth, sucking it gently past her lips, and poking her tongue out to lick the sensitive flesh. Then she was back on his cock, rubbing her lips up and down the shaft. The man grabbed her by her hair, held her head still, and began thrusting into her mouth. Yeah, bitch, that's right... oh yeah, suck my cock... His voice, low and rough, rang out in the silence of the room. "Yeah, bitch, you suck his cock... suck it real good..." I was startled by the sound of Miranda's voice. I looked over at her and my breath caught in my throat. Her shirt was pulled up, revealing her pert tits and the pink nipples that had been teasing me all day long. She was pinching them between her fingers, rolling them around until they were dark and swollen. I raked my eyes over her body, down to her legs, where I could see her panties hanging off one of her thighs. And her fingers... her fingers were sliding up and down the sides of the pinkest, most perfect pussy I had ever laid my eyes on. Well, the only pussy I had ever laid eyes on. She circled her middle finger around her clit, pressing down hard and pulling upwards so that her tiny red button was exposed. Then she ran her finger back down over her slit, dipping it into her dripping wet cunt, shoving her finger deep inside. When she pulled it back out it was slick with her juices, and she spread them over the entirety of her pussy, making it glisten with her excitement. I could barely breathe; my face was hot, but that space between my legs was hotter. I hadn't touched myself there, not in a long time, not since my father had barged in one day and caught me with my hand halfway down my pants... But he wasn't here now, he was downstairs, passed out drunk, and the only thing that was here now was Miranda, and the only things that mattered were the sweet moans emanating from her throat and the way her fingers expertly worked her soaking wet pussy, bringing her ever closer to the brink of orgasm... I wasn't paying attention to the video anymore, but Miranda was. I could still hear what was happening, though, and the man's breathing seemed to quicken and become shallow. Miranda's eyes were half-lidded, never wavering from the action on the screen. I let my hand trail down my body and rest on my own pussy. I could feel the heat against the palm of my hand, and slowly I pressed my fingers against myself. A shiver ran through my body at the contact. Oh yeah, oh fuck yeah, oh god I'm cumming, I'm gonna cum all in your mouth, and you're going to swallow every bit of it... Miranda was moaning in ecstasy, her fingers moving faster, working herself desperately. Her tits rose with every shallow breath she took. "Yeah, you fucking cum in her mouth, cum all over her slutty little tongue..." I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She was mesmerizing. The way she talked while she got herself off sent jolts of pleasure through my body. I darted my gaze back down to her pussy. One finger was frantically rubbing her clit, pressing hard against the nub. Two fingers from her other hand were shoved deep inside her pussy, thrusting in and out, pumping rhythmically with the man who was now face fucking the woman on the screen. They were both so close... Oh god, I'm cumming! Fuck, suck my cock, oh god yeah, take it bitch, take it all down your throat... "Yeah, you cum all over her filthy tongue! Suck it, bitch, oh god, I'm gonna cum...!" Miranda threw her head back and cried out, eyes leaving the screen for the first time, pressing her fingers against herself feverishly, as the orgasm crashed through her, sending waves of pleasure throughout her body. She convulsed in the chair, bucking against her fingers and moaning loudly. I felt I could cream myself just at the sight. She didn't come back over the next day, or the day after that, or the day after... I went to the park several times, hoping to see her there, but she never showed. My days were filled with obsessive thoughts of her, of her sweet, wet pussy, of the way she moved her hands so expertly over herself, of the sounds she made when she was reaching climax... At night I would find myself waking up in a state of horniness that I'd never experienced before, my panties soaking from dreams of her. One night I stuck my hand down my panties and began to rub myself, circling my fingers around my clit just as she had, pushing inside my wet pussy and trying to make myself cum. But I couldn't. I was sexually frustrated for days on end, especially since I couldn't make myself cum no matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I thought of her. Maybe I just wasn't doing it right. One day, out of anger at her disappearance and frustration at my lack of self-pleasuring abilities, I ran outside of the house, ignoring my father's unintelligible screaming, heading in the opposite direction of the park. I walked for I don't know how long, hoping the air would clear my head, but the silence of the streets only caused thoughts of her to stick out more in my mind. Where had she gone...? I didn't know if I was angrier at her disappearing without a trace, or at myself for feeling so absolutely smitten with her. Suddenly I heard a rustling noise to my right and two figures emerged from a small cluster of trees. One of them was a tall boy with brownish hair and a stupid grin plastered across his face. The other was... Miranda? She strutted out of the trees, a self-satisfied smirk tugging at her lips. Her hair was slightly messy, and something white and glistening clung to the corner of her mouth. The boy kept flicking his eyes over at me. He seemed quite uncomfortable at me being here. As my eyes traveled down his body I saw that his pants were unzipped and that his cock was hanging out, shimmering wet and slowly losing its erection. He reached down and hastily began to stuff himself back into his pants. I looked back up at Miranda. Her eyes met mine, and my heart seemed to jump into my throat, but she made no acknowledgement of me and turned to face the boy. "Pay up, hun," she said, staring up at him through her eyelids and holding out her hand. The boy, after he finished making himself decent, reached into his back pocket and pulled out a crumpled bill, which he thrust into Miranda's hand. Then he rushed past me, not looking at my face. Miranda's hand closed around the bill and she began to walk, her only sign of my acknowledgement a wink as she made her way past me. I stared after her, incredulous, and then began to follow her. "Miranda!" I called out. "Hey, wait!" She didn't slow down, her hips rocking from side to side with each step she took. I tried to stop the heat from coming, but it was hard, watching her ass sway seductively in front of me. I shook my head and hurried to catch up to her. Once I was in step with her I asked again. "Miranda, what the hell was that?" She looked over at me. "I sucked his dick. He gave me twenty bucks." She seemed entirely unfazed. I blinked confusedly, not sure what to say. We walked a few more yards and then she turned right into a driveway with one small car in it. Was this her house...? My assumptions were confirmed as she strode up to the door and pushed it open. There were boxes in various states of being unpacked, filling the mostly empty living room. A few pieces of furniture had been set out, and various suitcases dotted the remaining space. Miranda walked straight through and headed to the stairs in the back. She led me up the stairs and down a hallway to a door that was slightly ajar. She pushed it open and went in, me trailing along after her. Her room was bigger than mine, but a lot emptier. There was a bed against one wall and a dresser with a TV mounted to it across from it. There were boxes and suitcases all over the floor, and clothes, shoes, and other belongings covering everything. "Sorry I've been MIA for a while," she said, walking over to her bed. "I've been busy." She began to sweep everything on it down onto the floor. I wasn't sure what to say, so I didn't say anything. Once the bed was clear, she climbed onto it, reached over and grabbed her laptop off of a nightstand, and settled down, opening it. I walked over to the bed and joined her, sitting uncomfortably on one corner. "My roommate's out," she said, looking up at me, a devilish grin playing on her face. "Thought I'd make the most of it." She looked back down at the screen, and I began to blush, anticipating another episode where I got to watch her work her pussy. "I've already had cock for today..." she mused, typing away at the keyboard. "Think I'm in the mood for some girl on girl action, what about you?" She didn't look up at me, didn't see the red flush that deepened in my cheeks. "Got one." I raised my eyes to look at her, and she grinned up at me. "Hey... wanna see what I can do with this?" She didn't wait for my answer, instead getting up from her bed and walking her laptop over to the television. She pressed the power button on the TV, then reached behind it and grabbed a thick cord, which she began to attach to the side of her computer. On her screen I could see a video pulled up; it was paused, and two girls lay on top of each other, their mouths pressed together. I could feel myself growing wet. Once the computer was connected the screen from her laptop was duplicated on the TV screen, and the two girls were magnified. Miranda looked over at me excitedly and grinned before pressing play on her laptop and rejoining me on the bed. I had scooted farther up onto the bed, turning to face the television, my eyes growing wide. They were kissing, mouths glued to each other, blonde and brunette heads leaning left and right as they licked and sucked at their lips and tongues. It was wet and messy: strings of saliva hung between their tongues when they pulled apart. The blonde girl took the brunette girl's bottom lip into her mouth and began sucking on it gently. Their tongues danced and twirled around, trying to taste as much of the other as possible, their moans of pleasure disappearing down each other's throat. There was no denying how incredibly turned on I was at that moment. I couldn't move, didn't want to break my concentration, didn't want to miss any of the action on screen. I could hear Miranda moving around behind me, and briefly I wondered whether she was trying to get naked, but then the camera angle shifted and she was put out of my mind for a moment. The brunette leaned down and took the blonde's left nipple into her mouth, sucking on it and pinching the right one in between her fingers. She rolled the little nub between her thumb and index finger, flicking her tongue quickly across the one in her mouth. The blonde girl had her eyes closed, moaning and mewling at the sensations, her pink tongue darting out to lick her lips. I felt Miranda move behind me again, felt myself sink backwards a little as she moved on the bed. I could hear her breathing get a bit closer, and realized that she must be moving towards me. I didn't dare look behind me; not just because I didn't want to miss a thing, but because I was anxious about what she was going to do. Anxious and excited. The brunette took her mouth off of the blonde's nipple and began to lick a path back up her body, landing on her neck, where she began to suck gently. She continued to squeeze at one of the blonde's tits. The blonde girl raised one of her hands and tangled it in the brunette's hair, pulling her closer to her body. Suddenly I felt cool air hitting my neck as my hair was pulled away from it. Miranda was directly behind me, hands on my shoulders. I could feel her breath hitting me, and it made my hair stand on end. My breathing became quick and shallow, and then I felt her lips on my neck and my heart stopped. She began lapping at my skin, swirling her tongue around, biting and sucking gently at my neck. I cocked my head to the side to give her better access. She moved forward so that her body was pressed flush against mine; I could feel her nipples poking against me. She brought her hands around to the front of my body and began to squeeze my tits, flicking her fingers over my nipples through my shirt. I moaned slightly, and she grabbed my shoulders and began to push me back onto the bed. She climbed over me, straddling my waist and holding my wrists down onto the bed. Her eyes had grown dark with lust, visible even through the lens of her glasses. My breath couldn't get any shallower, and I was growing restless beneath her, and then she leaned down and pressed her lips to mine and every thought was chased away. The kiss was heady and fierce. She immediately thrust her tongue into my mouth and began running it along every surface she could reach. I had never kissed anyone like this before, and I wasn't sure what to do. I tried to match her movements, letting my tongue dance around her lips and her own tongue. She managed to wrap her lips around my tongue and began sucking at it, as if she were sucking on some guy's cock, at it felt so incredible that my thoughts of inadequacy melted away, and I pushed up into her, suddenly matching her kiss with an equal ferocity. Miranda We weren't paying attention to the movie anymore, but the moans of the girls on the screen continued to ring out into the room. Miranda began to move downwards over my body, pushing my t-shirt and my bra up and revealing my own erect tits. She wasted no time in latching on to one of them, sucking and biting at the nipple. I writhed beneath her, crying out in simultaneous pain and pleasure. I had never felt anything like this in my entire life. I reached out and grabbed her head, pushing her against me, trying to stuff as much of my breast as I could into her mouth. She moved from one to the next, biting and sucking, twirling the sensitive buds between her fingers. I was growing wetter by the second, and I felt like my pussy was on fire. As if she had read my mind, Miranda sat up in front of me and grabbed at my jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling them off of my legs as quickly as she could. She pushed my knees apart, spreading my legs wide so that the only thing separating her from my dripping wet cunt was a thin slip of white cotton. She leaned down slowly, stopping just inches away from my pussy, and inhaled deeply. "God, you smell so good..." she breathed. She thrust her face forward and stuck out her tongue, giving my pussy a long, slow, agonizing lick through the fabric. I moaned low and long, as she continued licking slowly up and down me, relishing in the feeling of her tongue through the fabric. After she had enough of teasing me, she began to slide the panties down my thighs and my legs until they were off and tossed onto the floor. I could smell the musky scent of my arousal. My cunt was sopping wet and throbbing. I had never felt so aroused in my entire life. The few times I touched myself, I had never come close to being this worked up. I didn't think it could get any better, but then Miranda's tongue was back on my cunt, this time with no fabric in the way, and it was oh my fucking god, the wetness and roughness of her tongue sliding in and around my dripping slit. She licked her way up to my clit, swirling her tongue around it and flicking it rapidly. She wrapped her lips around it, sucking lightly, and then harder and harder until I was practically screaming in ecstasy beneath her. "Oh, god, Miranda! Oh shit, that feels so--! Fuck, don't stop! Don't stop..." She had no intention of stopping. She continued sucking on my clit, flicking her tongue against it as she did so, and then I felt another sensation, her fingers stroking my slit, up and down, trying to find my entrance. And then one finger slipped inside, dipping into my pussy, and I bucked underneath her, moaning and cursing with abandon. She worked it in and out, fucking me with her finger while she sucked on my swollen clit. I could feel my juices streaming out of me, and then a heat began to pool in the pit of my stomach, and I could feel myself began to pulse and throb faster around her fingers. I felt another finger poking at my slit, and then she pushed it inside as well, and she began pumping them in and out as fast as she could, all the while sucking on my clit, and I was a writhing mess beneath her, my eyes rolling into the back of my head. And then the warmth began to intensify, and my clit throbbed in her mouth, and my cunt began to clench around her fingers, and then my orgasm shot through me. I arched my back, thrusting my cunt down onto her fingers, reaching with my hands to push her head as hard as I could against my pussy, screaming and crying out as waves and waves of the most intense pleasure I had ever felt crashed through me. Miranda ran her tongue lazily over my pussy, licking up my juices, letting me ride the wave of ecstasy until it died down. The room was silent but for the sound of her tongue lapping between my legs, and I noticed vaguely in the back of my mind that the video had stopped. After a while Miranda sat up, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth and smirking at me. "Did you like that?" I blushed and averted my eyes. Saying I liked it would have been a gross understatement. Then she began to undress in front of me, pulling her shirt up over her head and wriggling out of her shorts. She wasn't wearing any panties. She sat back against the edge of her bed and spread her legs wide, running her fingers over her own cunt. I stared at the pretty pink folds, mesmerized as she moved her finger about herself. "Now it's time for you to return the favor, isn't it?" My eyes grew wide at this statement. Return the favor? Did she want me to do the same thing to her? A small shock of anxiety shuddered through my body. There was no way I could do what she had done to me. "But... Miranda, I can't..." "Bullshit," she interrupted me. "It's only fair. I lick your snatch, you lick mine. I make you cum, you return the favor. That's just how it works. You got it?" I was still lying back on the bed, afraid to move, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit excited at the prospect of tasting another girl's cunt... Admittedly my fantasies for Miranda hadn't gone any further than kissing her and wanting to watch her masturbate in front of me again, but after the video, and after what she had done to me... "Come on, I'm horny as fuck and I want to cum." I turned over and crawled towards her, leaning down so that my face was between her legs, inches from her pussy. I stared at it, reaching up with one hand and running my finger down the middle of her, feeling the increase in wetness as I neared the entrance to her vagina. She shuddered above me and sighed contentedly. I brought my hand up to my face and licked at my wet finger. It was like nothing I had tasted before, bittersweet in a way that was hard to describe. I stuck out my tongue and placed it at the base of her slit, licking upwards in one smooth stroke, flicking my tongue against her clit as I went. I heard a low groan escape her throat, so I repeated the motion, licking slowly upwards, spreading her juices over her pussy with my tongue. "My clit... suck on it... I'm already... so close..." Her words were breathless, and I peeked up at her, watching her run her fingers over her nipples. I wrapped my lips around her clit and began to suck on it gently, swirling my tongue around it, and her moans deepened and I felt her legs start to shake. "Unh, god, that's it... suck it... suck it harder..." I did as she asked, sucking her clit harder, pulling it roughly into my mouth. A string of curses flowed out of her mouth, punctuated by pleasurable moans and cries of ecstasy. She reached down with one hand and shoved two fingers into her dripping slit, pumping them in and out rapidly. With her other hand she pressed down on my head, pushing me into her pussy, grinding my face against her clit. "Oh shit! Oh, fuck yeah I'm gonna cum... oh god, suck it... fuck, I'm gonna cum all over your face...!" She was bucking underneath me, thrusting her fingers as fast as she could, matching her thrusts with her hips, and all the while I was sucking as hard as I could, swirling my tongue around every inch of her pussy I could reach, loving the taste of her juices as they flowed out of her and into my mouth. And then she screamed, a long unbroken cry of pleasure, convulsing and thrusting upwards, pushing my head into her crotch, juices flowing out of her as her pussy clenched and pulsed around her fingers. She sighed deeply and relaxed beneath me, running her fingers through my hair. I continued to lick at her cunt, lapping up her juices, relishing in the taste of her. "You did a good job," I heard her say. "Now I won't have to charge you twenty bucks." I looked up at her, and she smirked down at me. Miranda and Carl My buddy Phil had a constant hard-on for this woman, Miranda, for months and months. Don't get me wrong, she's hot, sexy and smart -- a dangerous combination, no matter who you ask. She was even able to sucker us into helping her move -- to the third floor, no less! We were rewarded in the best way, though -- a smokin' hot threesome and Phil almost didn't close the deal, the chump. In the end, Miranda must have liked his shyness because they've been dating for a few months. Sometimes I still join in with them, but this story is just about me... and her. Phil had to go out of town for a few weeks on business. One night I was at a local bar for happy hour when I felt a hand on my shoulder. "So do you come here often?" said a sultry voice and I turned and laughed. Miranda was standing there making a ridiculous, exaggerated sexy face. She giggled and sat next to me. I, along with everyone else at the bar, couldn't take my eyes off her. Miranda was wearing a white blouse that clung just right to her huge breasts, a pencil skirt that accentuated her round, firm ass and thick hips and high heels that made her long legs look even longer. Her long, brown hair flowed and her beautiful face lit up as she spoke. Miranda ordered a martini and I kept sipping my beer, making conversation and thinking about how good she gave head, how good it felt to be in her pussy and how great it would feel to get into her ass... but wait a second, this is my buddy's chick, and while it's okay to fuck her when he's there, I don't think he'd like it if I did her while he was gone... I fought the hard-on that was ready to burst through my pants and kept thinking un-sexy thoughts... but they kept drifting back to her huge tits and round ass. A few drinks later, we were laughing and flirting. I would say something funny and Miranda would laugh and put her hand on my arm. Just that touch was enough to make me dizzy. At one point, she laughed and put her hand on my knee -- and left it there. She leaned in and whispered, "How long do we keep playing this game? I was hoping to get out of here and fuck you about an hour ago." I smiled and said, "What about Phil?" Miranda replied "I'm not talking about Phil. I'm talking about you and me, fucking, right now." That was all I needed to hear. I paid for our drinks and we left the bar. On the way back to my house, Miranda kept her hand on my knee, driving me crazy. We pulled into the garage and I killed the engine. She turned to me and gave me a light kiss on the lips. She then proceeded to unzip my pants and pull my hard cock out of my pants. She licked the precum that had leaked out and started sucking on the head. Oh this woman was a dream, I tell you, sucking my dick in my car while we were parked in my garage. She continued to suck my off while I rubbed her back and ass. I started thinking about sliding my cock into her tight ass --something I had never done before -- and I started shooting my load, right then and there. Miranda sucked me like a champ and didn't waste a drop. We got out of my car and went inside the house. Miranda asked me for some wine and walked straight into my bedroom. I poured the wine and walked into the bedroom, and I just about dropped the glasses. Miranda was naked and on all fours, right in the middle of my bed. Without even undressing in immediately lay on my back and she lowered her pussy to my face. She kept the hair nice and trimmed and her pussy lips were puffy and wonderful to suck on. I started by licking them softly and then I licked right up her slit, finding her hard little clit. She moaned and began pinching her big nipples. I licked and sucked on her pussy while holding her perfect ass cheeks in my hands. I began thinking about fucking her ass again and I felt my cock begin to get hard. I slowed down my licking and slid out from under her. I lay her on her stomach and opened her ass cheeks, taking in that beautiful little brown nub. I began to lick it and Miranda shuddered, gripping the sides of the mattress. I knew, with that small act, that I would be in her ass before the night was over. I undressed and Miranda turned onto her back, fingering her clit and watching me, licking her lips. I loved this girl's body. She had heavy, natural tits, big brown nipples, a flat stomach, thick hips, strong thighs and a pussy so beautiful that I could look at it all day. I stood at the foot of the bed, stroking my cock slowly while she lay on the bed, fingering her clit with one hand and pinching her nipple with the other. We watched each other masturbate until I couldn't take it anymore. I crawled onto the bed and lay on top of her, in between her legs, with my cock resting against her slit. I kissed her beautiful mouth and began working on her neck, then down to her tits. I licked one nipple, then the other, driving her insane. Miranda was writhing against my cock, lifting her hips up, trying to get me into her hole. My cock was rigid and I wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer. I raised my hips and pulled back a bit while she opened her legs even wider and I slid into her warm, wet pussy. Both of us moaned at the sensation and I stayed inside her for a minute, loving the feeling. I leaned in and took a nipple back in my mouth and began sliding in and out of her, slowly, working my thick cock in as deep as I could before pulling out and pushing back in. Miranda kept running her fingers through my hair, scratching my back and shoulders lightly and moaning my name over and over. She wrapped her long legs around my waist and moved with me as I fucked her. She looked so beautiful and I couldn't help but moan as well. When I moaned her name she got really turned on and said, "fuck me Carl, fuck me harder." I picked up the tempo and began pushing into her harder. "Faster, please, fuck me faster!" she moaned and I got up on my knees, pushing her legs back a bit and fucking her faster and harder. The headboard was banging against the wall; her tits were jumping with every thrust and she was pulling at the sheets, moaning loudly. When her orgasm hit, she arched her back, went silent and then let out a loud moan. Without thinking, I said, "who's pussy is it baby?" "Yours, Carl, yours!" she moaned. "Tell me again Miranda. Who's pussy is it?" I panted, loving the way she said it was mine. "Yours baby, since the first time you fucked me, it's yours!" I was just going with what felt right and said "you gonna give me your ass too?" Miranda pushed herself up on her arms and looked dead in the eye and said "take it." I nearly came. "You sure I can have it?" I asked, teasing. "Take it, it's yours. Take it," she moaned, cumming again. I fucked her for a bit longer and then pulled out. I got up and went to the bathroom to retrieve the lube, with a raging hard-on sticking out from me. She sipped some more wine and settled back on the pillows. She looked so hot! I turned her onto her hands and knees and got behind her, pushing my cock back into her pussy. I put a little lube on my finger and began playing with her ass. I slid my finger and felt how tight it is in there. I put a little more lube and pushed my finger in further. Miranda mumbled something and I asked what she said. "Put your cock in my ass!" she said. I pulled out of her pussy and spread some lube on my cock. I pushed the head into her ass and held it while she gasped and adjusted to the size. When she relaxed, I pushed further and she tensed up, from pain I guess. I pulled back a little and rubbed her back, massaged her ass and said "relax baby... It's me... I'll be gentle... Just relax and take it baby... take it." My whispered words relaxed her and I felt her ass open like a flower and I pushed in further, slowly. When I was about three quarters of the way in, I stopped and rubbed her back again. "How is it baby?" I asked. She purred a response and I knew she was okay. I started to pull out and push in a little, opening her up. As she completely started to relax, I began moving faster. I held onto her perfect ass as I began to fuck it and it was so tight and warm and wonderful, I can't begin to describe it. I gave her ass a light slap and she moaned again, so I spanked her again and began fucking her faster. She was moving with me and gripping at the bed. I knew I wasn't going to last much longer and I began fucking her faster, moaning her name over and over and when I was about to cum, I gripped her hips, pushed in all the way and yelled out her name. My cum shot into her ass and I stayed in her, panting and trying to catch my breath and not fall over. Finally, I pulled out and Miranda lay flat and I collapsed next to her. I leaned in and kissed her and she said "now THAT was the kind of fuck that I needed. You are wonderful." I nodded but couldn't reply and she just laughed and got up and went into the bathroom. I finally was able to get up and I went into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of wine and some water and went back into the bedroom. We lay in bed and laughed and sipped on the wine. I asked Miranda to stay the night and she said only if she could take a shower. I joined her and we simply stood under the water and kissed. It was wonderful and I knew that something more than sex was happening between us. I also knew that there was no way I could go back to just being the third guy... hell, there was no way I would have shared this woman with anyone. Little did I know that Miranda felt the same way...