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The Gala

By: Olgentleman



The day has arrived for the big gala party, you just got back from getting your hair fixed, finger nails done and you are putting on the final touches of your makeup. This is a big deal lots of people, with lots of money and big dreams. You have been before, but with your boyfriend. The guys and girls that attends this party are always the cream of the crop. Your gown is hanging on the door, you reach for your pantyhose then realize, "SHIT" I forgot to get a new pair. 

As panic sets in you remember you have stockings you once wore with your garter belt and they would work. Relief! As you finish putting on your clothes you are thinking to yourself, why wear panties. This will be the ultimate turn-on knowing you have nothing on under your dress, with all the guys looking at you. You arrive at the party, it is in a large hotel on the top floor. It is especially nice with a deck where you can go outside that overlooks the city. 

You get on the elevator and head to the penthouse. As you make your way through the crowd you don't see anyone you know however you feel eyes staring at you from all over. Your gown is beautiful, it shows off your figure. You know you look HOT!! On the way to the bar you see Harry an old friend on the outside deck talking with some people, as you walk up he introduces you so Sherry, Mike and Larry. You all continue to talk and have a great time. After a while Harry asked if you would like to see his new Porsche. On the way down the elevator you kiss and hug he reaches down to caress you ass. 

As the elevator reaches the grown floor you walk out to look at the car then after a few minutes of small talk and kisses then you head back to the party. Waiting at the elevator there is a crowd waiting to join the party when you hear someone yell Harry! It is his business partner, Harry asked you to go ahead and he would see you in a few minutes. As the elevator door opens the rush begins everyone is on but it's not too crowded. You have one person behind you against the wall, as you were one of the first to get on and several people in front of you. The elevator stops and 5 more people get on making it really crowded. You can feel the persons breath on your neck although you aren't touching, but the you feel his hands brush against your ass, then again. No, this is no brush he has slid both of his hands to your hips and he is gently pulling you back against his growing cock. 

You don't resist knowing he really can't do anything but you are thinking how excited you are getting on a crowded elevator rubbing up against a stranger's dick with no panties on. As doors open again 3 people get off freeing up some space you try to move but feel him hold you even tighter. He you can tell he is well hung and can feel his cock throbbing. The doors open to the Penthouse and the party is now well underway. As you leave the elevator you turn around to see who the stranger was and he is a well-dressed man in his 40's. He gives you a smile then makes his way to the bar for a drink. As you mingle through the party you get another drink and run into Sherry again. 

The conversation starts as girl talk and quickly turns to sex. You both talk about how hot some of the guys at the party are and then you mention your elevator experience. From the look on Sherry's face you can tell it was exciting to her. She had broken up with her boyfriend several weeks earlier and was back on the hunt. The night and drinking continued and you met more and more people. The people were fun, the party was great and you just to the point of feeling slightly drunk. You found it funny that many of the people were really getting drunk, spilling their drinks making funny remarks, and just acting silly. As you watched everyone having a good time Mike bumps into you being very drunk and stops and talks for a while, he is really funny. 

You can't even understand what he is saying but you know it must be important by the serious look on his face. As you look around the room Harry is talking with Sherry on the outside deck you leave Mike and head outside, when you clear the crowd Harry is there by himself. You talk about old times and he says that he really wants to get into Sherry's pants. He said she was getting really drunk and that he had a room down stairs but didn't think she would go. After thinking for a minute you said give your keys I'll take care of that for you. When Sherry came back it was obvious that she was drunk she had spilled part of her drink down the front of her gown and was having a difficult time keeping her balance. Looking over at her you say, "hey I have a room down stairs, let go get you cleaned up." 

As you enter the room she kicks her shoes off and in the process falls onto the bed. "That was a big first step" she say's as she laughs at her humor. You reach over to help her up slip her gown off and to your surprise she has nothing on under it. Her tits are beautiful perfectly shaped not too big just the right size and her pussy is cleanly shaved. You take the gown to the bathroom to dry off the drink spills and hear a noise Sherry has come up behind and before you can do anything has her hand cupped around your tits. Her fingers are gently moving and squeezing them as you turn off the water and lay the gown on the sink. You turn around and kiss deeply, it feels so good. It's not a hard kiss it is a gentle, tongue touching kiss when you feel her unzipping you gown. 

As she moves slightly back your gown falls off your cute little body and both of you are standing there, you with only your shoes and garter belt on. You move forward to feel your soft velvety skin touching hers, as you step out of your shoes and as you both reach to cup each other's ass. You slowly move back toward the bed and as you approach it she stumbles and she lands in the floor between your legs as you have fallen onto the bed on your back. You feel her hair as it tickles your thigh then you feel her warm breath against your pussy. Her tongue reaches out, parting your lips and entering your hole then she licks up to your clit and back down again. 

You don't move, you are enjoying having Sherry eating you out. Without notice you feel Sherry push 3 fingers up your pussy, as she sucks and licks gently on your clit. You can feel her fingers rotating in all directions up you hole, and the feeling of being eaten it too great. You cum within minutes as she continues to lick and finger you. You ask her to stop for a minute, as she does, she crawls up on the bed and lays beside you. Her ass is sticking up and you run your fingers down the crack of her ass to her very wet pussy. As you finger her as she raises her ass higher off the bed to give you easier access to her pussy. Remembering what she had done to you, you raised off the bed and push 3 fingers right up her pussy. She begins to hunch as your fingers slide in and out of her pussy. 

Then she begins to roll onto her back. This is the first time you have seen her pussy really up close, it is small shaved and very wet. You can't help but to ram your fingers back up her pussy as she meet each stroke with you. She moves under you and you are on top of her. She reaches around your legs and slides 2 fingers back into your pussy. Without warning you feel her tongue licking your clit, you reach down and let your tongue gently brush over her clit. This is a great sensation being eaten and eating a pussy at the same time. You can smell the slight fragrance of her perfume between her legs as you begin to run your tongue between her lips touching your thrusting fingers then back up to her clit where you lightly begin to suck. You can feel her stomach muscle begin to tense and then she explodes. 

You gently lick and suck her clit barely moving to prolong her on-going climax. It is a truly "once a year" climax, in all the excitement of her climax you comes without warning as she pushes her fingers hard up your pussy and then just holds the there as you rotate them to your favorite spot. As your climax passes you begin to slowly and lightly lick on her clit again, she jerks from the touch of your tongue and her sensitive clit. You open your mouth and place it around her clit as you slowly begin to move your fingers again. Her fingers are also moving in and out your pussy again as you await the touch of her tongue on your clit. 

Then you feel another pairs of hands sliding up the inside of your thighs as the reach your pussy Sherry slides her fingers out of your pussy and they are quickly replaced by two other but much longer fingers. You can hear Sherry sucking on his cock as he finger fucks you. He then pulls his fingers and replaces them with his 8" cock. It slides into you with easily then he starts to increase the pace. You can feel your ass slapping against his legs as he holds your hips to give him better leverage. It feels great, and then the ultimate Sherry begins licking and sucking on your clit. As they relax you feel the second guy increasing his pace, holding your hips tighter as he pushes it all into you and then you feel him squirting his hot cum up your pussy. 

As you roll off of Sherry you look up and see Harry up Sherry's pussy and the stranger from the elevator standing behind you. Everyone now is just relaxing, Sherry is still beyond drunk and Harry and the stranger, his name is Jim just lay there talking. The hotel room has two double beds and as everyone is relaxing Sherry has fallen asleep. You mention that you would like another drink so Jim slips his clothes on as you and Harry move over to the other bed. Jim returns and knocks on the door holding the three drinks holding the three drinks in his hands. 

Harry opens the door, as Jim enters the room he whispers into Harry's ear and the three of you sit on the bed sipping your drinks the conversation quickly turns to sex and you can feel the fire in your stomach begin to glow again. You think to yourself that you have never taken two guys at the same time. Maybe they will just take turns a blowjob while you are getting fucked by the other. But as you continue to drink that concern quickly turns to excitement of having both cocks in you at once. Jim finished his drink first and laid his head in your lap. You can feel his hot breath against your stomach. It is just like blowing on a fire, it is really heating you up. Harry finishes his drink and asked if everyone wants another round Jim says sure, Harry asks you and you say "why not." 

Harry calls room service places the order the slide up behind you and starts kissing you on the neck and rubbing your tits while Jim rotates his head downward and start licking your pussy. You are enjoying being touched by two guys at the same time and know that they are going to please you. You can feel Harry's dick growing to a full hard-on as it pushes against your back and Jim has moved around and slid off the bed so he can put his tongue up your pussy. Harry slides to the side and lets you lay down and then he begins kissing you and sucking your tits. In his position you reach between his legs and start playing with his hard cock. What a cock, it is longer that normal and fatter than most and feels so hot in your hand as you stroke it and play with his balls. Jim is has now gotten you to a boiling point with his tongue and is now fingering you with 2 maybe 3 fingers. You feel your juices running out of your pussy across your little asshole and down the crack of your ass making a puddle in the sheets. 

His tongue is going wild on your pussy licking your clit to your hole where his fingers are fucking you faster and faster. You feel the urge cumming on and know that at this pace your are going to cum very soon. You are a little numb from the drinks but that seem to prolong your climax and then when you get there makes it seem more intense and go on forever. You can feel Harry slightly nibbling on your nipples sending cum impulses right to your pussy and then Jim start sucking on your clit. OK that's it CUM CITY!! It was more that intense. It hit you all at once, you knew you were going to cum but with two guys playing and touching you all over it distracted you enough that the climax "was just there" and WOW was it intense and long. 

After a couple of minutes Harry rolls onto his back and tells you to get on and fuck him. That sounds good to you so you roll over and straddle Harry rubbing your pussy on him until his cock finds your "honey hole." As you sit back pushing it all the way in, there is a knock at the door. It is room service with the drinks. Jim says he will get and just throw the cover over you so nobody can see. So you lay on Harry's chest pull the covers over you and lay mostly still except for the slight rotation of your hips. You hear Jim and the Bellboy talking, setting the drinks down the door closing. You throw the covers back raise up and begin Fucking Harry again. 

Harry pulls you toward him so he can suck your tits while you fuck him. You hear Jim sipping on his drink and hear him set it on the table. Then you feel his cool hand touching your ass and rubbing the inside of your thighs up pass your ass and down your back. As he moves his hands you feel the presents of a cock as it touches your cheek. You turn your head and begin sucking. Jim is fucking your face while Harry fucks your pussy and sucks your tits. WOW what a feeling! Two guys at once! You are thinking this is great. As you move you can feel Harry's cock sliding almost to the outside of your pussyhole then you let it slide all the way back in. While you are giving Jim the best blow job in town. As you fuck your little clit is rubbing against Harry's stomach and with the intensity of what you are doing, you know this one is going to be bigger that before. 

You hear Sherry moan in the next bed but know that she is too drunk to do anything. Besides you are sandwiched between two guys and you know you are going to get the licking and fucking of your life. As Jim slides his cock in and out of your mouth you can feel it getting much harder and know he is not too far from cumming in your mouth. He slides out of your mouth wanting to hold on to the feeling as long as he can and he moves back around to your ass. You can feel him put one hand on each cheek of your ass and slightly spread your ass apart. Then you feel his hot breath on your little asshole. The you can feel his tongue circling around your little hole then running up the crack of your ass then back down to your asshole.

With Harry up your pussy and Jim licking your asshole, what more could a girl want. Then you feel him starting to push his tongue up your ass and then the sensation of being tongue fucked up your ass while you are being fuck for real in your pussy. By now your ass has relaxed and Jims tongue is easily slipping in and you are thinking this is a great feeling Jim moves his head back and you feel him insert one then two fingers up your ass. They slide in with no problem, and he starts moving them around inside you and fucking you with them at the same time. Your stomach quickly tenses you can feel Jim's fingers touching places that have never been touched and Harry's dick still pounding your hot little pussy as the rush overtakes your as your body begins to cum all over. It begins in you pussy or maybe your ass, then it goes to which ever didn't cum and then it is like your lower body goes into a total and complete orgasm. You lay on Harry's chest for a minute and realize you are building up for another climax when you feel Jim fingers rotating wildly up your ass hole. 

It happens in seconds, there is not even time to react, it is just there! All over again but this time you are sure it was from your deep within your ass. You continue to lay on Harry's chest and feel Jim slowly slide his fingers out of your ass. You can hear him take another drink, a couple of seconds go by and you feel him playing with your ass again. This time it is different he is not rotating his fingers he is just sliding his fingers in and out. You are thinking that it really felt great when he rotated his fingers while they were up your ass and was almost ready to ask him to do that but as you turned you head it was met by a cock waiting to be sucked. How did Jim? Which one is Jim you reach out and take his cock in your mouth this one is Jim for sure. You remember because it is so fat, shorter that Harry's but much fatter. But who is fingering my ass? 

About that time you feel him slide his fingers and the feel them replaced with the head of a cock. He starts pushing it up your asshole as Harry now holds still you arch your back trying to accept another cock in your little body and sucking on Jim. You feel the head slowly pass the outside of your opening and can feel it stretching, then like magic he is up your ass. Harry starts moving and you begin sucking on Jim again. You are now really getting into this and start hunching which makes both of the cocks slide in and out both of your holes. You can feel Harry starting to tense and then you can feel his hot cum squirting up your pussy at the strange continues to pound his cock up your ass. With the moans of Harry cuming and the sounds of the stranger slapping against your bare skin with each stroke you can feel Jim's dick get really then the pulsing and then his cum begins to fill your mouth. With each stroke he is squirting more that your can swallow and some leaks out the side of your mouth but the flood soon becomes a trickle then it stops. However the stranger is getting close to his time also but now your can feel Harry's cock begin to grow again up your pussy to another full hard-on just about the time the stranger pushes his cock up your ass to the hilt and you can feel his cum filling your ass. After a minute or so you can feel the strangers cock getting smaller then he pulls it out.

You hear shuffling in the room the door opens then closes as Jim replaces him as your ass. As Harry continues to slowly stroke you with all your holes full of new cum you know the night is not over yet. You can feel Jim positioning his cock against your asshole. It hasn't regained a total erection yet but it is still much fatter than the stranger. As he holds his cock in his hand and begins to force the head up your ass hole you can really feel your asshole being stretched. As he tries to get his semi-hard cock up your asshole you can tell it is getting harder each try. On the next attempt you push back accepting it into your hole. This time there is some pain but it is quickly overcome by the size of his cock up your ass. It feels enormous as it continues to grow. But the sensation is not bad it is GREAT and you know that these two guys are going to full you up. 

As the pace increases Jim is staying still as you rotate your hips causing both cocks to touch each other inside of you but also hitting those special places. Yes Those. You can feel yourself beginning to build but you can tell the guys are getting close also you continue to hunch and rotate when you feel Jim grab your hips and pull you back against him as he explodes Harry pushes up really hard and your time has cum also as almost automatic with the guys but this time for you is the best your have ever had EVER! It is mind blowing it is so intense that you feel like you are going to pee, and maybe you did a little as you rammed backed to take these cocks up you once more. After a few minutes Jim slowly eased his cock out of your ass, Harry was now semi-hard at best. Harry was on you right Jim was on your left and you pulled the covers up to rest for a while.

The Gala Ch. 01







The Gala Ch. 01



For a moment, Amy was unsure what was happening behind her. Suddenly Bill's hot breath was at the back of her neck. Mike was currently busy sucking her earlobe as he continued to massage his own throbbing, aching penis. Bill was propped up on one arm, and gently kissed and tongued the nape of Amy's neck.

Amy could feel Bill's hand behind her, grabbing a hold of his rigid cock. Suddenly she felt the throbbing head of his cock pressing firmly against her asshole. His cock drooled precum and the head felt rubbery against the sensitive flesh of her anus. Little by little, Bill's cock applied more pressure to Amy's backside. Each time the force increased, her fleshy opening instinctively tightened, remaining steadfast against the intruder. Bill softly bit the back of her neck, as his hand ensured the head of his cock was correctly positioned against her. He slowly circled his cock around the rim of her asshole, smearing his warm precum. With each pass, Amy's tightened knot became slicker.

Amy screamed. Bill had grabbed hold of the base of his fat cock, and thrust forward in one violent motion. At first it seemed as if he would not gain entry, and then suddenly the slick head of his cock popped through, penetrating Amy's rectum. Intense pain ripped through Amy's backside, and the muscles controlling her anus clamped down around the cock that impaled them, only increasing Bill's pleasure. Until then, Amy's mouth has remained closed around the soiled condom Bill had deposited there earlier. Nor has she swallowed, and now as she opened her mouth to scream out, a pool of saliva and semen soaked the pillow. In an effort to muffle her, Bill pressed her face into the pillow, forcing her head down with his upper body weight. Amy thrashed her head, smearing the filthy deposit of drool and cum over her face.

All the while Bill's cock remained still. The bulbous head of his cock lay barely in Amy's rectum. After only a few seconds, Amy's searing pain subsided as her asshole relaxed slightly around girth of Bill's cock. As the initial pain was relieved, it was replaced by a sensation of pleasure. Bill's hand reached down and cupped Amy's vulva, moistening his hand with her juices, which has again began to flow in earnest. He then massaged Amy's moisture into the smooth skin of his cock, repeating the process until the shaft of his penis was glistening with Amy's nectar.

Slowly but forcibly, Bill pushed into Amy's rectum. Each time her anal cavity tightened in protest, and each time Bill's cock invariable ventured deeper inside of her. The sensation of the hard cock parting the silky inner lining of her asshole was completely different than the intense pain of the initial penetration. Amy breathed deep, guttural moans into the pillow. Her knees weakened and parted, forcing her weight down upon Mike, her warm belly pressing flat against his aching cock. Now free to move, Amy's hands massaged Mike's upper arms, nuzzling her face into his neck as she moaned each time Bill ventured further inside her rectum. Finally, Amy's sweltering anal passage was hugging the full length of Bill's organ. His coarse pubic hair bristled against her anus, and the rubbery head of his cock pressed against something deep in Amy's belly, eliciting a sensation that split the difference between pleasure and pain.

Bill's weight was now fully pressed against Amy's back, and she was firmly sandwiched between him and Mike. Mike eagerly thrust up, settling on humping Amy's stomach, as his cock could not find her pussy. Bill pulled his cock slightly out of Amy, being sure that the tip of his penis remained embedded in the soft lining of her rectum. He paused for a moment, letting the rim of her anus quiver and spasm around his organ, and then, with all his might, thrust deep into her.

Amy screamed again, but unlike the first time, this was the result of intense pleasure as Bill's cock impaled her. His pelvis slapped against her ass with enough force to push her entire body forward on the bed. Amy's heavy breasts dragged over Mike's face, and he began to hungrily bite and suck at her nipples. Further down, Mike's throbbing cock could feel the heat of Amy's sopping mound, and it twitched and spasmed in anticipation of performing it's natural function. Bill, his cock still completely engorged in Amy's cavity, began to grind against her buttocks, the movement in turn causing the slit of her pussy to rub over the length of Mike's penis.

Bill continued to pick up the pace until his cock was furiously pumping in and out of Amy's ass. With each thrust, Amy and Mike were forced together, their sweat-covered bodies sliding against each other. Mike suckled feverishly at the ponderous breasts being continuously forced into his face each time Bill forced his own cock forward. Mike's cock, on the other hand, was desperately trying to find entry into Amy's slopping vaginal hole. Finally, as Bill's cock pushed Amy forward once more, Mike's cock found entry, easily slipping into Amy's drenched vagina. Feeling this penetration, Amy bucked back, forcing both cocks deep into her. While Mike's smaller cock was less able to thrust in and out of her, Bill's enormous member continued its assault on Amy's ass. Each time it thrust forward, it rubbed firmly on Mike's cock, the two boys separated by only a thin layer of tissue between Amy's vaginal and anal cavities.

Eventually the sensation was too much for Mike, and his cock exploded, sending several quick bursts of semen deep into Amy's pussy. Feeling the searing fluid of Mike's cum filling her as his cock pulsed with each ejaculation, Amy succumbed to an overwhelming orgasm almost simultaneously. Her body shuddered as her vagina constricted and milked Mike's drooling cock. The rim of her asshole clenched firmly against Bill's invading cock, and the walls of her rectum spasmed with each powerful wave of her climax.

Seconds later, Bill finally began to reach his own climax. Never slowing in his furious violation of Amy's quivering asshole, his cock began to spit sticky streams of thick fluid into her anal cavity. As he continued to ram his dick into her, streams of hot cum where forced out of her tight anus, forming sticky trails of semen that leaked down onto Mike's balls and inner thighs. Unable to discern Bill's cum from his own cum drooling out of Amy's ravished pussy, Mike paid no mind to the situation.

After several minutes, Amy pushed Bill's flaccid cock out. Her ass still drooled his cum which, combined with Mike's, forming a sticky pull between Amy and Mike's legs. His soft cock now dangling uselessly between Amy's buttocks, Bill finally raised himself up and out of bet. He silently dressed himself, gave Amy a firm slap on the ass, and strode out of the room. Amy rolled off of Mike, and the two fell quickly asleep.





The Gallery



The soft creaking of leather and almost musical clinking of chains filled his ears, but behind that was another nearly constant sound. Quiet, almost barely voiced moaning and whispered pleadings, punctuated with gasps of pleasure or pain. It was all dark for Andrew, the supple leather covering his eyes effectively cutting out even the smallest glimpses of light, but he knew full well where he was. The “Gallery”, She called it. A living, breathing, moaning and whimpering art exhibit of straining, needful bodies. He counted himself lucky to be here, on display to the throngs who would soon arrive to sip cool, sparkling champagne and eat savory foods, walking amongst the bound and aching bodies in designer suits and dresses, expensive Italian leather clothing their feet a sharp contrast to the utilitarian leather wrapping the wrists and ankles of those on display. 

Andrew found himself swaying slightly in his bonds, holding back on voicing the moans that the thought of those people coming into the Gallery brought to the surface. He thought himself too well schooled to show so little restraint, but it was difficult, especially when all around him he could hear those who couldn’t keep silent. Instead his breath came quickly through his nostrils, little realizing it made him sound a bit like an overworked animal. And, really, wasn’t that what he was? A fine piece of flesh, put on display for the amusement of the idle rich. He could feel his cock swell at the notion, pushing against the strap that encircled the base and tugging the strap between his balls a bit tighter. There was little he could do to stop it and, really, it would please Her all the more to find him, hanging in darkness, aroused in spite of himself. 

Her...She...he rarely thought of Her by the name She had given him when they met anymore. It was so common, these days, to meet someone on the Internet and, in a matter of moments, form a complex relationship with them mysterious to so many who have never had the experience themselves. There is some sort of tie there, unexplainable to the uninitiated, of exploring the psyche at first contact, rather than having to push through the societal boundaries imposed on initial meetings. So they had become friends, and soon more than friends, as She probed into his fantasies and desires. Things that he rarely, if ever, told anyone else, except those anonymous strangers on the other end of a keyboard. It wasn’t long before She knew exactly where his buttons were, the switches and levers to his inner being, and began to...dismantle him, is the only word he could think to put to it. Tearing him down, one erotic image at a time, until he came to see his desires as not deviant or strange, but something to be cherished. She certainly cherished them, helping to explore each twist of his erotic self. 

At Her suggestion, he purchased a webcam and some other items, including his first cockring and a thick, realistic dildo that he felt himself blushing about as he paid for. In the privacy of his own bedroom, She watched as he slipped on the ring for the first time, and writhed as he felt the pressure in his cock growing, blood pounding against his flesh. Spurred on by Her, he licked and sucked the dildo and, to her intense delight, fucked himself until he was breathless and sweating, more with the desire to orgasm than with his exertion. The further She led, the more willing he was to follow, until the natural course of things left him with no answer except an emphatic “Yes!” when She asked if he would like to meet. In that meeting he found that neither Her charm nor Her beauty was limited to a digital environment. He could not help but be entranced by Her, by the way She spoke and moved. When he managed to succeed at some task, Her soft hands stroked his face and hair and she whispered “Good boy, sweet darling” into his ear and he was filled with joy he could barely contain. When he failed, She still smiled, and She still petted him even as She found some new, blissful torture for him to endure. And when it was through, She whispered into his ear how She knew he would do better next time, he simply needed a little more time, and training. 

One yes often leads to another, and it followed that he came to be with Her, to be trained by Her, to become part of what he later discovered to be a complex society of her peers and their toys and entertainments or, as She often referred to them, works of art. Weeks had trailed into months, grueling and delightful, as She trained him to be what She needed and wanted him to be. It was only near the end of this period that he discovered that She had an ultimate goal beyond her own pleasure in mind. Occasionally She would comment that soon he would be able to contend with the other “pieces in the Gallery”. It seemed only those who had reached the pinnacle of preparation were sent there, and the idea was tangled in anticipation and fear in Andrew’s head. The unknown of this Gallery, and what might occur there, was overwhelming, but also exciting, as it signaled that She would finally decide that he was complete, prized enough to move to be displayed to her credit. 

The day finally came when Andrew was on his knees in front of one Her as she lay back in her chair, his hands clasped behind his back as he very carefully nibbled a strawberry from Her navel, teeth nipping at the fruit and just grazing the skin. She scrutinized Andrew’s pose of intent focus, eyes almost closed as he worked. His entire being seemed to be caught in this single task, without anticipation of the next moment or thought for what had come before. Her hand stroked through his hair and touched his shoulder, drawing a fresh moan from him as his mouth worked against her skin, unaware of the thoughts going through Her head. 

That evening, freshly scrubbed until his skin was as pink and naked as a newborn babe’s, Andrew stood before Her. Her beauty seemed to strike him anew, Her lithe and deliciously curved body curled against one end of the chaise and draped in near transparent folds of cloth. It reminded Andrew strongly of a portrait of Madame Recamier, and She held that same sweet, coy expression in her eyes, but behind that an inexplicable power. He knelt before Her, eyes focused on Her elegantly lacquered toenails tipping beautifully arched feet. A touch on his chin made him raise his gaze to Her, and a shiver rippled through him as She spoke in that well remembered voice, silken and honeyed with the slightest burr of Southern gentility that made her vowels soft and fuzzy. 

“Darling, you have come so far from the undisciplined, willful and desirous boy I met so many months ago. You’ve truly grown into a man and blossomed while I watched,” that sweet voice began.

Some note of surprise must have shown in his eyes, because She laughed, low and filled with delight, before continuing. 

“Yes, you have grown and through your trials, you have discovered that submitting to the will of another doesn’t take less strength, but more, to retain your sense of self and free will. So, knowing what you do, Andrew, I want you to make one last decision for me. I want you to decide if you are ready to leave this life...or if you will consent to be in the Gallery. I warn you now that, once you’ve made the decision, there is no turning back. You either take control of your own fate once again, and leave with my blessing, or give yourself over fully.”

Now, swaying as he was in his bonds between the two sides of the metal frame erected in the center of the Gallery, Andrew remembered how he had kissed Her hands and ankles, begging to be allowed to continue. She had lifted his chin and kissed him, and quiet words of adoration followed, poured into his ear to fill his soul. He spent the night in Her bed, in a world of bliss as She used him to satisfy Her own needs, coming again and again as he worshipped Her with his mouth or as She rode his cock. Near morning she slept and he was left hard and aching, his balls throbbing in time with his pulse as he lay on his back on the bed, with Her body curled close along his. He longed to simply turn into the warmth of Her, nuzzle into the rich, spicy scent of her body and simply slide, with a quick, wet movement into the heat of Her body and spend himself inside of Her. But he spent the night staring at the elaborate gilt medallion in the center of the canopy, tracing its contours with his eyes as his body slowly relaxed. 

It was the next evening when She finally woke, and Andrew still lay beside Her, wakeful and apprehensive. She gave him no chance to second-guess the decision he made the evening before, and simply slipped a hand around his cock, which had only become fully soft in the last hour. Lust flamed inside of him at the gentlest touch of Her small hand, and it wasn’t long before he was bucking against the bed and clutching at the bedclothes, entertaining Her with the silent begging of his body. It did not stop until he was trembling and drenched with sweat, growling behind clenched teeth as She rode the length of his cock and admonished him to hold on “just a moment longer”. Finally she shivered in orgasm, and he could feel the muscles contracting around him, futilely milking him as he struggled against the fluid that wanted to follow nature’s call out of his body, and into Hers. She calmed above him and then sat slowly back, the delectable curve of Her ass pressing down against his straining balls, stretching them away from his swollen cock. Even as the urge to come became easier to deal with, the pleasure intensified, and he found himself unable to withhold a long, supplicating moan that became an inarticulate plea. In moments, however, Her body had slipped from his and she left to dress with terse instructions to bathe and prepare himself. 

Andrew pulled himself from the whirlwind of thoughts that crowded his mind, reliving the moments of the last several months that had brought him to this place, centermost in amongst a living work of art. He could still hear the quiet groans around him, but he noticed that the sounds were beginning to calm, overtaken by a sense of anticipation that almost seemed to hum through the air. Now, without the constant background sussuration, he could hear footsteps moving against elegantly tiled floors, growing louder as they approached him. The steps were light, a distinctive quick clicking of high heels that he suspected, and hoped, belonged to Her. Hands touched his cheeks and then slid to the back of his head, releasing the blindfold that had blocked his vision. For a moment the world swam in a blur of white light, and slowly images began to emerge and solidify. He was, indeed, stretched upright on a metal frame in the center of a bright room, decorated in the height of classic tastes. As his vision cleared, he saw that it was cream, not white, that dominated the palette. He could also see why, since four more “exhibits” were stationed to the sides of the large room, and their black bonds, arranged artfully against bare skin, stood out starkly against the lighter background. It really did resemble an art gallery, bright and open, with odd writhing works of art displayed against the walls. It was obvious that the party would begin soon, since there were elegantly draped tables bearing a succulent selection of food and wines, white-dressed waiters bustling back and forth to arrange them. Curiously, they didn’t so much as bother looking at the bound displays around them.

Andrew, himself, was center stage, and except for the leather encircling his wrists and ankles, he was clad only in the cockring She had fitted on him with loving fingers earlier that evening. She stood in front of him, the blindfold in Her hands, looking up at him from her diminutive height. It never ceased to surprise him that the one who held him in Her hands was so tiny and delicate. His eyes found Hers and Her smile greeted him, and even in his apprehension of the evening to come he felt himself suffused with joy at being Hers. Those small, soft hands stroked his bare thigh and stomach, and he swayed again, but this time as he pushed his hips forward towards Her. As she spoke, her voice was like a balm to him. 

“Shh, darling. They’ll be arriving soon and you’re to be on your absolute best behavior. Everything you do tonight reflects upon me, and I’m positive that you wouldn’t want this evening to go poorly for that reason alone. Now...I know that this should all go without saying, knowing how I’ve taught you, but I’m going to give you a few instructions in any case. Tonight, no matter how you are touched, no matter by whom or in what circumstance, no matter how you are tempted, you are not to come without my express permission. If at any time you feel that someone has over stepped His or Her bounds in touching you, all you need do is call to me. I don’t foresee that happening, but bear it in mind in any case.” 

As She continued to speak, Her hands slipped along his abdomen, down the inside of each inner thigh and stroked his buttocks. The touches enflamed him, causing his cock to grow harder and harder against the strap confining it, until he could feel the leather outline pressed firmly against his skin and his balls full and stretched in their prison. She moved around behind him, stroking Her fingers between his buttocks, lightly grazing the soft skin just behind his balls and teasing across his anus. He gasped and flinched, surprised at the touch and by the simultaneous feeling of Her lips against his ear. 

“It will be to your advantage if you perform well this evening, darling. You never can tell when your wildest and most divine dreams might be on the verge of coming true.” Her voice murmured against his ear, teeth nipping gently at the skin before she pulled away to greet the first of the guests just now entering through the outer doors. She left him hanging there, erect and straining against his bonds, now more desperate than ever to feel some sensation. As She left, She drew the doors closed behind Her, smiling and dipping one heavy-lashed eye in a slow wink at him.

He listened to the gathering start to come together in the outer chamber, shivering at the growing din of voices and elegantly shod feet against the parquet floor. His cock twitched, the sense of anticipation doing nothing to soften his torment. In an attempt to distract himself, he looked at the other displayed bodies, wondering who in Her circle of peers they belonged to. Only one other man was present, and Andrew couldn’t help but admire him as a physical specimen. Andrew himself, in his own consideration, was nothing special. Average build, average looks and an average cock, She had told him that his true beauty lay in his eyes. Not in their physical beauty, but in the desire that lay behind them. The man to Andrew’s left, however, was someone’s idea of a perfect slave Adonis, right down to the long hair. He was tied, as were the others, flat against the wall, with black leather artistically criss-crossing against his so-perfect body. His cock was large, jutting straight out from his body, and Andrew could already see the glisten of precome against the head. 

The other willing captives were women. The two directly in front of Andrew, to the left and right, were a matched set of blondes with over-pert, full breasts that only implants can give. So matched, in fact, that Andrew wondered if they were twins and was certain that they belonged to the same person. The fourth, though, to Andrew’s far right, held his attention. A redhead, with hair curling nearly to her buttocks, her body had a soft, rounded look and pale skin with a soft rose undertone that said she would burn easily. Her breasts, full and lovely, were heavy enough to have never have seen a surgeon’s knife and were tipped with large, pink nipples. Just looking at her made Andrew’s cock stiffen a bit more, but when she turned gorgeous blue eyes towards him and her lips parted to draw in a long breath, he could actually feel his balls try to draw up against his body.

He was pulled from his dazed exploration of the other slaves, though, when her head the click of the latch from the outer chamber door. A moment’s pause as all of them directed their attention towards the doors, and then they suddenly swung open to allow the room to fill with elegantly clothed people. Andrew could feel a buffet of air from the other room press against him, warm from so many bodies and redolent with expensive cologne and perfume. He was immediately aware of many pairs of eyes on him, but no one approached yet, instead he became the centerpiece in what, otherwise, could have been any other society gathering. Satin and silk moved past him, covering all sorts of forms, shining and dazzling in the bright light and making a whirl of color before his eyes. He could feel the blood thumping through his body, and most especially in his cock which had begun to soften somewhat due to his distraction, leapt to renewed erection when the guests entered.

Somewhere in the throng he could hear Her laughing, and his eyes began to search Her out, looking for the flash of Her bright hair in the crowd. Finally he spied Her, choking back a gasp that She was so near. In fact, She was moving in his direction, drawing along a little crowd of people she was speaking to.

“As you know, this is his first time in the Gallery. He hasn’t as much experience as some of the others, but I do feel he is ready.” Andrew watched as one of the men with her chuckled softly, which seemed to cause the frown that appeared on Her face. “Of course, I could always be proven wrong, Gerald, but I don’t think I will be. I wouldn’t have brought him for tonight if I thought that.” 

Andrew shivered as he realized the room had gone quiet at Her words, and all eyes turned to him. He felt as if he were in the eye of a hurricane, in the calm just before all hell breaks loose. 

“Well, in that case, I suppose we can begin the entertainment, can’t we?” the one she had addressed as Gerald spoke up. She nodded and almost instantly Andrew felt a hand against his buttocks, trailing along his thigh. Another grazed across his stomach, and another his neck. Andrew had no way of knowing who the hands belonged to as he felt himself pulled into the press of people around him.

For a moment chaos reigned, as it seemed like millions of hands touched his body, caressing every inch of him...all except for his straining cock. It was as if there was an unspoken agreement not to touch him there, and yet this was the one place he ached to be touched. He knew he had promised Her that he would not come, but if someone would only touch him and stroke him, it would be a form of relief. Andrew groaned in spite of himself, twisting against his bonds as he tried to press his cock into any of the hands that stroked his thighs or abdomen, and he was greeted with delighted laughter from all sides. The hands withdrew, again as if this were something well-rehearsed, and left him panting with need. He glanced at Her, to see if she was upset with his overt reaction, but She only looked amused and turned to the man next to her to converse quietly. 

After that initial swarming, the tone of the evening changed. Rather than being ignored as a piece of artwork as the party progressed, Andrew became the entertainment in truth. Every so often a guest would stop and toy with him, sometimes men and sometimes women, but always they would leave him gasping and aching. One woman drew a chair up in front of him and sat down to eat from a plate of canapés she had selected. As she nibbled on toast points and caviar, her free hand began to stroke and fondle Andrew’s bound balls, grazing the taut, shiny skin with her fingernails. She even plucked gently at the strap separating them, causing it to snap very lightly against his skin and make him gasp, again and again. When he was well and truly writhing, she began to stroke his cock, agonizingly slow pumps up and down his aching member, all the while sipping her wine and speaking to other guests as if she were doing nothing amiss. It wasn’t long before Andrew was pressing himself backwards against his bonds in a futile attempt to escape her relentless hand, afraid that if she continued much longer that there was no way he would be able to keep his promise to Her. Just as he felt his resolve beginning to slip, the hand pulled back and the woman moved on to another conversation and another glass of wine, leaving his cock to twitch with his pulse as he tried to regain his composure.




The Gallery



1. Jane.

It wasn't a plan; just a fantasy. A half formed image swirling in my head from the last look at the picture as I covered it up; what an arousing thought it was though. I wondered if he would do it?

It had been a long day getting the exhibition ready and now I was alone, I was in need of some – relaxation. Pouring the wine I thought about Michael and smiled to myself. Yes, Michael. The photographer. Would he do it? Of course he would; I remembered the few times I'd seen him looking at my figure when he thought I hadn't noticed his stare. I chuckled as I sat in the leather chair behind my desk; he was shy but still, that could be overcome with a little thought.

The white wine tasted cool in my mouth as I looked out at the picture now draped in its cloth. Yes, that would be the place to take innocent, shy Michael. Right there, after I show him that image.

My fingers were half consciously massaging my thigh through the fabric of my jeans as these thoughts turned themselves into possibilities.. Then there were those other pictures in the exhibition too, yes I'd show him them. It was then the idea began to form and I bit my lip in anticipation, sliding my fingers higher to the front of my jeans, between my legs. Softy rubbing the clothing against my wetness within, I felt the warm surge of pleasure move out from my loins, making my nipples tingle. Idea, fantasy and body were all coalescing.

Yes, he would do it, I thought, putting the wineglass down, eager now to play through my fantasy in my head as I fondled myself through the denim. As I parted my legs, I imagined how he would react when he saw me the way I was thinking.

I opened my tight jeans sliding my fingers inside, feeling the wetness of my panties as I caressed myself through the soft cotton, feeling the hairs moving under my fingers, as I played with my lips. The gentlest touch on my clit as I leaned back on the chair with a soft moan, finally allowing my fingers to slide under the wet panties, led by the images conjured in my head. I felt my engorged lips, opened them, played in the wetness, taking wet fingers to my clit and massaging around it, quicker, harder.

I would play with him I thought, looking out at the half lit gallery, populating it with our naked bodies, then shuddered and groaned as the wave of the climax washed over me.

I let my fingers explore inside at that moment, thinking, yes, he'll do it for me; sweet man that he is. Yes. I needed props; those would be easy – from my apartment overhead. Mostly, I needed Michael. I picked up the phone.

2. Michael.

I'd known Jane a long time and we were good friends, nothing more. So, when she called me up from her gallery and asked me if I'd like to come around and help her out with a new exhibition, I was pleased. On top of that she even wanted to hire my professional photographic services. Perfect!

"It'll mean working late," she said, "the display has got to be ready for the day after and we only have the time after we close."

"No problem," I said and we discussed the sort of things she wanted of me. "Most things will be finished," she said casually, " but I want to do some special shots - me and the pictures - for some publicity, that sort of thing."

I pictured her long red hair and deep blue eyes, her fresh complexion and good bones, these always made for nice images. Sensual images. I'd used one in the window of my shop a while back and it seemed to have attracted attention - and customers!

It was already dark by the time I arrived at the gallery. I waited in the cold for her to open the door. She smiled when she saw me outside, loaded up with photographic equipment bags and a pizza box. "Pizza delivery," I said, "thought you might need it. I bet you haven't eaten today at all, with getting everything ready, have you?"

She laughed. "You're getting to know me well."

Entering the gallery's large white space I began to off-load bags while she took the pizza. I pulled a couple of bottles of beer from the pockets of my leather jacket. 

We sat behind one of the pillars in the gallery, away from the window, to eat. Jane sat down with a languid elegance, despite being in working jeans and a shirt. She curled her right leg beneath her reminding me of a cat's grace then sighed and took an open beer, taking a sip from the bottle. As we ate she explained about the exhibition. The pictures were mostly by new artists and were all of women. "Unusual," I said.

She nodded. "I thought it might be nice to take some pictures of me taking up the poses of the women in the paintings, to do as a publicity stunt."

"Nice," I said, my mind on the lighting in the room and the best way to take the pictures already. I was engrossed in those thoughts so I hardly registered her saying, "and to finish off I have a special shot or two I'd like you to take." I nodded absently, still looking around, thinking the light might be rather harsh in places.

She led me to the first picture, a long, tall, realistic picture of a woman in a flowing white dress, slit up the thigh. "I'll get changed," she said. I was surprised - though of course it made sense she would want to wear something special for the pictures. She went into her office and emerged a few minutes later wearing a remarkably similar dress to the woman in the picture. Suddenly, I felt her sensuality, as if I had never noticed it before; it was almost palpable, hanging in the air like musk.

"How about this," she said, leaning on the thin frame, one hand pushing back her hair from her shoulder, staring at me. She made the most of the slit skirt, her thigh exposed. I gazed back, then blinked. "Yes. Good. Let me get my things."

She took up the pose, saying, "this picture is called Desire," she murmured through strand of hair she let fall over her face.

"Apt," I said, taking the sultry look into my camera, preserving her overt sexuality on film. She finished off sitting at the base of the tall picture, grinning up, her legs provocatively apart, showing white panties.

"Too much?" she smiled; we both laughed. I took the picture anyway.

Another couple of pictures followed and then she walked over to me.

"Now I'd like my special shots."

"OK," I said quizzically. She took me over to a picture covered with a white sheet. Smiling at me, she revealed the image. The woman was nude from the waist up, her arms held up over her head. Flowing velvet draperies hung from her waist in billows of crimson. At her feet, a knight kneeled in worship to her beauty.

She smiled at my expression. "Not an original, of course - but I thought it might be a nice – attraction."

I looked at her smiling face and swallowed. "It will be," was all I could say.

"You can be the knight," she said, softly. "Take my picture from down there."

She walked slowly away to get ready. I tried to concentrate on preparing for the photograph.

She came back, wrapped in a robe - to start with. Her eyes on mine, she smiled. "You've done nude pictures before," she asked; I felt the teasing tone in her voice.

I shrugged. "A bit."

I noticed the arch she had had painted on the wall next to the Pre-Raphaelite image now. She stood against it and slowly shrugged the robe away from her shoulders. Looking into my eyes she gradually opened it, letting it slide from her arms to the floor. She was naked to the waist, her skin pale, translucent almost under the soft light. In place of the flowing draperies of the painting she wore a long deep red sarong made of silk. She pushed it down her hip a little in imitation of the picture, then leaned back against the wall, raising her arms slowly above her head. Her firm breasts rose as she lifted her arms; I noticed the faintest of blue underneath from their veins and realised I was becoming excited, my penis pressed uncomfortably against my pants. "Ready?" she said, in a low voice.

I knelt before her, raising the camera as she gazed down into the lens.

As I took various pictures she began to move her arms down, sliding them over her breasts; I carried on taking pictures until her right hand slid to her belly, then lower, outlining the top of her legs under the silk. Slowly her long fingers moved between her legs, slowly, back and forth, around and around. "Why have you stopped?" she breathed. I raised the camera one more time. Her other hand caressed her breasts while she excited herself, her hips moving slowly as her fingers tugged her nipple. She smiled. "Does this excite you?" she asked.

I nodded, unable to speak.

"How much? Show me," she said, still touching herself through the sarong. "Show me how excited you are," she said more eagerly. My hands moved to my belt. I slowly undid it; was this what she meant? "Yes," she said, as if answering my thought, watching me. I pushed down my pants, my underclothes. My erection stood stiff from me as I kicked the clothes away and unbuttoned my shirt. She walked slowly to me then, putting her hands on my shoulders, urging me down, on my back on the floor. Lying I looked up at her as she straddled me, her thighs encompassing mine. The silk flowed down, cool against my skin; I felt the bareness of Jane's legs against me underneath it. Her hands ran up my chest. As I reached up for her she shook her head. "Lie still," she said, "you're the knight, you only adore me - whatever I do," she smiled.

I let my hands fall back and she ran her nails over my chest, my nipples. Then she moved forward over me, her knees locking against my hips, the silk still covering her lower body. She eased herself over my cock, with the fabric still keeping us apart and slowly she began to move it against me, the silk riding over my hardness. I moaned at the touch of her body, kept from me by the diaphanous material. I watched her as she moved over me, pressing down on my stiff cock with her hidden pussy, watching her hips rotate over me, then move back and forth. I could sense the wetness that was beginning to seep onto the silk as she moved. Her eyes were on my face as she moved quicker. "Please - I want you," I begged. She shook her head, soft red curls tumbling across her smile, moving faster on me, her back arching, pushing out her breasts to me. My head rolled back as I felt her moving quicker, felt her fingers slide down the silk to pleasure herself as she rode me. My hips began to thrust involuntarily. "Jane," I groaned.

"Come for me baby, come for me," she urged. I cried out watching her excitement mount. Then, pushing hard, I gasped, " oh yes," my hips thrust hard up, raising her up and the first shot of semen spurted from me, out over my belly, followed by more as I gasped. She rode my shaft harder, milking my cum, watching me come, groaning herself now as her fingers drove her to her climax, her head tilted back giving a long, soft sigh.

Slowly our violent movements subsided.

In the passing minutes her fingers moved over my belly, massaging my cum into my skin, turning against my muscles. She then lay on her side beside me, her fingers trailing over my chest, her head propped on her other hand. I wanted to ask – why? What now? But she was studying me, offering no explanations; again she performed her mind reading act.

"It's not over yet," she murmured. She bent towards me, her soft lips kissing my mouth, her tongue teasingly playing over my lips, opening them. I responded, kissing each of her lips softly, a hand to the side of her head in her hair, feeling the nape of her neck, pulling us closer.

Her hand slid down me, feeling for my penis, taking it, engorging it again. I gasped; I was so aroused I was ready for her again. She looked down at my growing cock in her fingers, then back at me as she smiled. Quickly she moved down my body and her lips surrounded the head of my penis as it enlarged fully under her touch while her fingers teased my balls. Her tongue moved over the head, its very tip playing with the hole in my cock. I moaned loudly. Now I had to touch her, reaching for her legs as she had bent to me, feeling for her warm skin. She lifted her face from me and stood for a moment, sensuously unwrapping the skirt from her, exposing her naked body to me for the first time. She then bent to my cock again, allowing me to savour the taste of her pussy, of the wetness from her recent climax.

Her luscious wetness covered my lips as I pressed close, my tongue moving against the slit of her beautiful outer lips. As I felt her suck me gently I parted her lips with my fingers, helping make room for my tongue to delve deeper into her hotness, tasting her sweet juices. As my tongue gently flicked over her clit I felt her moan on my penis, exciting me even more. Her hips moved against me and I slipped a finger into her feeling how tight her pussy held me.

I knew I had to have her body and began kissing her inner thigh, twisting up to kiss her hip, causing her to break her kiss on me and look to me. We sat up together, kissing each other harder now, tasting each others sex in our mouths. My hands caressed her naked back, feeling her firm breasts against my chest. I eagerly pushed her down and she smiled, knowing I was ready to enter her. She parted her legs for me and as I kissed down her body, taking first one nipple then the other in my mouth. I slid the head of my cock through her soft pubic hair down across the wetness and hotness at the mouth of her sex. She held my cock. "Slowly," she said, controlling me. I pulled my hips back and under her hand placed the tip of my cock into her. She closed her eyes, turning it a little around there, like a toy. "Deeper," she sighed, allowing me to push a little more. Her hips raised to me.

"Yes," she said.

Deeper I pushed.

Her moan was long and low, an erotic accompaniment to my penetration deep into her pussy. My fingers slid over her clit for a few moments while her hands moved away from my cock to slip over the roundness of my ass, her nails digging deep as she pulled me all the way into her hot wetness.

We both cried out softly together as our mouths met too in a deep kiss. Slowly we rocked together, Jane's legs locking around me, her hot thighs over my hips, helping to pull me into her. I kissed her neck as we moved together, our bodies pressed, skin on skin, bone on bone, catching her clit between us, squeezing her. I felt her excitement grow, felt her hands roam my skin, pulling me to her as her back arched, getting us close, pressing our bodies together. 

Our breathing fused into the sounds of lust; sighs and wetness, fingers raking skin and hair. Her pushes became insistent, her body lost control. As I watched her writhe, open mouthed in orgasm, she finally was able to call out, "come in me, come now." I pushed harder, quicker; in only a few strokes her beautiful body had drained me again, my cum shooting into her hot pussy. "Oh yes, I felt you...hot...your cock throbbing in me," she panted, clutching my groaning body tightly to her.

For several moments we lay together, smiling.

"Better get dressed," she said, finally. "We've still work to do before the exhibition. You've pictures to develop. I take it you'll be coming?"

I smiled. "That was quite an invitation. How could I refuse?" 



The Gallery



It was Friday and Missy stood in the small tub shower at Dave's place, washing the last of the soap away from her body. The shower curtain pushed aside, she looked at the clock on the wall.

"Geezzz. 7pm. Where is he?!" she thought. "Always late and never where he is supposed to be. He should have been here by now." she felt herself getting angrier by the minute.

Closing the shower curtain, she turned, rubbing the wet glass window with her hand. Pushing the window open, the warm summer nights air started to mix with the steam filtering through the screen as she peeked out, watching few cars pass on the street.

A loud thump and Missy could hear the garage door go down. Dave's place was so run down and needed so many repairs, but he was on the fast track. At least that's the excuse he kept giving her. Missy heard a slam, and another noise as the screen door hit the frame of the door.

"Dave? You home?" she asked, not really needing an answer.

She could hear his keys hit the dish on the counter and then a long silence. Standing under the shower spray with her eyes shut, she just listened.

"Miss me?" Dave's voice flooding her ears as he touched her shoulder.

Turning around quickly. "Damn you! I hate it when you sneak up on me! Where have you been?!" Missy asked, smacking him on the arm and then stopping suddenly, realizing he stood completely nude before her.

"Does that mean you want me to leave?" Dave asked with a wicked grin as his mouth began to curl at the edges.

A long stare that lasted longer than she liked, still trying to be pissed at him, with her breath held, he stood there already hard.

"Is that a no? " he asked.

With a lump where her voice was supposed to be, she was unable to speak.

"Uh-huh. I thought so." He flashed a lusty grin, then his eyes went dark, seductive, and purely animalistic.

"Something tells me I am forgiven." he added, just loving the fact that she was speechless. "You have such beautiful long legs, you know that." he said, more as a statement then a question.

The hot shower spray blocked by her wet body, slowly he began to descend down in front of her. Sliding and tickling his finger tips around her knee's, stopping at the tops of her thighs.

"Looks like you missed a spot." he said, making a teasing, tsking sound, the words hissed through her body like a burning fuse. She bit her lip, weakened at the sight of him.

"We don't have time for this. We are going to be late for the opening." Missy said, trying to distract him from the path he was taking, pressing her hands on top of his shoulders.

"Maybe if your a good boy, I'll let you fix those spots later." a devilish giggle followed by a deep breath as she backed up pulling the shower curtain aside. Legs that just ached with desire, she gazed back at him. Oh how she wanted him, completely hard just standing there, waiting for her.

"Mmm, silk over steel." she thought to herself. "Come on, hurry up!! Take your shower or we will never make it." she said, trying so hard not to look at him.

Rising up off his knees, grabbing up the fluffy, round, spongy thing she'd hung on the shower handle. He squeezed some shower gel into it and pressed it against his hard torso. Across his chest and around his well muscled shoulders, the bubbles began to appear. Eyes just filled with lust, his hands slowly moved as they danced under and around his length, the soap oozing between his fingers. 

"I'll be ready, when you are." Dave laughed, and she knew he wasn't talking about the party.

Standing in front of the closet, Missy dropped the towel at her feet. She slipped into a long, black dress, the beautiful and soft indent of her spine went straight down within inches above her crease. The back of the dress exposed soft skin as the rest held the curves of her body. Enjoying the heat of her skin, she pulled the straps of her dress up with the cooled material sliding over her bare breasts. Black strapped sandals slid under her toes as she stood in front of the mirror, taking one last look while gazing at her pink skin, still rich in color from the hot water of the shower. 

Releasing the clip in her hair, long brown curls fell to her shoulders. A couple passes over her open lips with some gloss and they began to shine back at her in the mirror. Grabbing her small purse off the hook next to the mirror, she sat down on the bed, pulling the sandal straps over her heels.

"Come on. Geez, you take longer than I do!" she chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." his voice came from the bathroom.

A few moments passed and then Dave appeared in the doorway of the bathroom. Leaning against the door frame with a smile which stunned her body from moving. A clean shave and gel smeared into his hair.

"It's about time!" she smiled wildly at him, loving that fresh showered look.

The faint smell of his cologne crept into the air as he began to walk toward her. "All I need to do now is jump into my clothes." his wicked smile still there as though she'd never left the shower.

Kneeling at her feet, his hands slowly slid up into her dress. "I just need to figure out what I am going to wear." Dave spoke softly, uncrossing her legs while kissing at the tops of her thighs.

The palms of his hands slid between them, easing them apart, just to the inside of her knees. Cool blown air was felt as it tickled at her heated skin. Gazing down at him, she watched his open mouth. Almost feeling paralyzed, Dave brushed his tongue against the inside of her thigh.

"Dave, umm... " as she attempted to try again." Dave, we have to go. You told Rick you'd be there." feeling the need to shut her eyes. A small heated sigh passed between her parted lips.

"Yes, and we won't miss it. " Dave said, looking up with a torturing smile.

The power he had over her, was unmeasurable. "One kiss, just one, and I won't be able to say no." she thought.

Rising in front of her, Dave leaned just a little toward her open lips, Missy quickly turned her cheek to the side. "Go! Go on, go get dressed." she giggled under her breath, pointing to the chair where his clothes laid.

"We will finish this later." he said with a wicked grin.

Arriving a little after eight, a line of about ten people still stood out in front of the double doors to the gallery. Dave grabbed the invitation off the dash of his truck and they walked toward the front door. At the bottom of the steps, a man in a tux stood with his arm extended out.

"Invitation?" he said with a smile.

"Yes, we do." Dave said, handing it too him.

"Right this way." as he ushered them in past the line of people.

The already thick crowd of people stood in front of many different pieces of art that hung from the walls. Some paintings as tall as the ceiling, Missy looked at the double doors and wondered how they managed to get them through the front door of the gallery. 

"I'll get us some drinks." Dave said as he smiled, his hand slipping away from the small of her back.

"Okay, I'll be here." Missy turned, walking toward another the wall of art.

One piece of art, rich in color, caught her eye as she stood motionless studying it.

"Not all art belongs on the wall." A smooth voice said from over her shoulder.

Thinking it was one of those stuffy types, Missy stayed focused on the painting in front of her. "And not all art is for sale." she added, without showing any interest. A few moments passed in silence. Thinking he was gone, she walked along to the next piece.

A nudge to Dave's arm and he turned around.

"Hey Dave, glad you could make it!" Rick said, patting him on his shoulder with a gripping squeeze.

"Yeah, we made it. Great place you've got here. I'm actually impressed." Dave said with a chuckle.

"Well, a little help from my dad, but I have hung a lot of my art in this gallery." Rick said defending himself. "So, where is she?" he quickly said. "You did bring your girlfriend, didn't ya?" he asked, looking as though he might become disappointed.

"Oh, yes! I brought her. She's standing over there." Dave looked past Rick, pointing her out.

"What? The brunette over there with the long black dress on?" Rick said, blinking only once. "Dave, I just talked to her. Her legs are amazing! I stood behind her while she was looking at one of my pieces." Rick said as the both of them looked at Missy across the crowded room.

The slit that went up the side of her dress exposed a generous amount of her thigh, giving Rick the sudden urge to nudge Dave. "You're in over your head." he said, pushing him in disbelief. Rick had seen Dave's girlfriends before, and Missy was nothing like them.

"No way, she is really sweet. Seriously." Dave added, glaring back at him.

"I would love to do a piece with her." Rick said, stating the obvious.

"Oh. Really? And just what piece is that, Rick?" Dave said curiously, but knew his love for women subjects.

"Her legs of coarse!" Rick said with a serious face.

"Come on. I want you to meet her." Dave said with heavy laugh and huge grin.

Walking casually through the crowd, Missy stood studying another painting. Missy turned around just as they were approaching her.

"Missy, this is Rick." Dave said.

"Hi, great to meet you." she said, as Dave handed her a glass of wine. "I've heard a lot about you." she continued. "Dave says you have quite a collection." She hid her smile behind the wine glass. "Oh my, he's hot." she thought heatedly.

"Great to meet you, too." he said, returning the smile equally. Missy felt it shoot straight though her.

"Yeah, some of my pieces are hanging in my father house." Rick laughed. "So, is this piece worth selling? " he added.

The look of shock came over Missy's face as she suddenly realized he'd been the stuffy one standing behind her.

"Ah, yeah. This one would sell." she giggled under her breath while taking another drink.

"Glad you think so. I won't tell you how much it already sold for." Rick chuckled, letting her off the hook.

"Some of these piece are just not my taste." she said.

"Well, what is your taste? We are always looking for fresh ideas and new models." Rick said, casually glancing at Dave as he quickly returned the smile to Missy.

"Models, huh?" she winked at him. " I'll have to think about it." she said, looking at Dave with a curious smile as his arm went around her waist, smiling back at her.

A couple hours passed, and Dave leaned into Missy ear.

"I think I am ready for that midnight snack now." he said, tickling the lobe of her ear with a heated breath. His hand trailed secretly down the back of her spine until reaching the edge of her dress. Slipping his fingers inside the seam, playfully toying with it while kissing the back of her neck.

"I'd like to repeated that intoxicating look you had in your eye's before you stepped out of the shower." he added, with a deep tone. He stood behind her, breathing at the back of her shoulder.

"I can see you're ready for me. Mmm, no panties." he whispered, promising so much pleasure.

Missy looked over her shoulder. "Can you leave now or do you need to stay a little longer?" she questioned him as Rick started making his way back to them.

"You two getting ready to leave? " Rick asked, seeing that ready look in Dave's eyes.

"Yeah, it's time to go. Great show though." Dave said with a smile as Missy watched them shake hands.

"Give me a call, if you think of some new art that would work for the gallery." He looked at Missy, trapping her eyes.

"I'll do that, Rick. Thanks for the invitation." Dave pulled Missy along with one last wave, heading for the front door.

A loud thump and the garage door went down, making contact.

"Are you ever going to fix that thing?" Missy asked, rolling her eyes.

"It's supposed to do that." Dave said with a sarcastic laugh.

Unlocking the door, she passed in front of him. The screen door slammed against the frame after he walked in behind her. A quick glare and Missy began to laugh.

"Uh huh, that must work the same way too." she said, pointing at the door.

"What a great gallery." Dave said, ignoring her comment. " I've seen a lot of Rick's art, but quite a few pieces were new." he went on, smiling at Missy. "An interesting offer Rick made, don't you think?" his smile deepened, while walking up to her.

"Mmm, just take it off." she thought to herself as his eyes walked all the way down her dress. "Very." she said finally, and then turned, walking down the hall. " I wonder how much Rick pays his models." she teased, heading for the bedroom.

He turned, watching her walk away as the long black dress slid against her curves, inviting him to follow.

Missy stood at the mirror, looping the strap of her purse on the hook. Suddenly, Dave appeared, leaning against the doorway to the bedroom. Standing there quietly, he watched her figure that was held inside the mirror's image. Missy caught his unbreakable stare as he casually walked toward her. Now standing behind her, Dave gazed past her, looking into the mirror while he lightly began caressing the top of her shoulders. His fingers vanished as they slid down the trail of her spine.

"I think you'd make a great subject." he said softly with a heated look, catching her eyes once again. 

Slowly, he peeled his shirt off, and she felt his heat just inches behind her. Missy stood speechless, looking into the reflection of the mirror.

"What part of you would you show him." he teased, now sliding his pants off, pushing them to the side along with his shoes.

Her mind began to race, remembering the rich, hazel eyes that Rick flashed her, along with that sexy smile. Dave's fingers slipped into the straps of her dress, pulling them to edge of her shoulders. The dress dropped to the floor, laying in a gathered pile on top of her sandals.

"Would it be the front side?" Dave continued, reaching his hands around, teasing the edges of her nipples.

"Oohhh" A faint sound and then her small shiver was seen in the mirror.

"Or how about the back side?" Dave's hands moved around behind her and with a slow drag, the tips of his fingers started at the back of her knees until he reached just under her cheeks.

"Or maybe what's hidden?" his voice erotic, stirring the heat inside her.

Dave reached for Missy's hand, placing her fingers against the soft line that had been drawn by a razor. Dropping slowly onto his knees, he watched Missy with a wild gaze. Her searching stare moved along Dave's nude body, stopping at his hardened length, hovering just above his thigh. Flinching at the sight of her, the sweet liquid heat began sliding between her fingers while they moved along her parted crease. Eyes filled with fire gave away the building pleasure.

"Oohh, please touch me." she thought, crippled by his words.

Dave grabbed her wrist, pulling it behind her back, holding it there. Disappearing behind her, the warmth of his wet mouth now wrapped around one of her fingers. The double sensation caused her to close her eyes as her head fell back, heavy with desire. He rose to his feet.

"Don't shut your eyes." Dave said with a husky voice, his hand grabbing a fistful of hair, baring Missy's neck to his open mouth. "I love looking into those beautiful eyes." he said, nibbling at the side of her neck.

The intense heat from his chest, which was pressed against her back. Grasping her moving hand, Dave slid her covered fingers into his mouth, tasting her excitement. Holding one wrist, he grabbed for the other, placing them at the top of the mirror. Missy could feel his hardened length dancing between her wet, satin lips.

"Mmm, take me!" she breathed in a lustful tone. Dropping her head below her shoulders, Missy could see his shiny crown held at the edge of her excitement.

"Oooh, so hot. I wanted you hours ago." He said with a low moan, while firmly cupping her full breast into the palm of his hand.

His length slid slowly but purposely until he reached the soft padded core of her tunnel. Her breasts began to rise and fall, almost as if she could no longer breathe. She pushed against him.

"Ohhh, don't make me wait." Missy thought to herself, wanting that full feeling to rush deep inside her and yet hoping it wouldn't end. "Oooo, my knees are so weak." she whimpered. His hands gripped her tightly at the hips.

"Mmm, weak in the knees. Soon you won't be able to stand." he moaned against Missy's ear while teasing her with another thrust.

"Ohh, yes! Don't, stop!" she said with whimpering cry.

Dave's pace continued as she looked into the mirror, watching it shake with each jolt of his hips. His fingers deliciously teased Missy's swollen sex, making her knees feel heavier and heavier until they began to buckle. Quickly, Dave wrapped an arm around her waist. The other, crossed over just above it, holding her up against him. His hips slid up against her cheeks, repeatedly torturing her tightest spot as Dave began to feel the tightening grip around his crown.

"Uhh, uuhh..." she cried, with her wounded face showing in the mirror. The sight of Missy's body jolting in the mirror, crippled inside his arm's, sent sensations to the very core of him.

"Oohhh, I love it when you loose yourself." with a growl in her ear, his eyes rolled back as Dave braced himself against her. "Uhh, ohh." he moaned loudly. His hips quickly made contact, releasing the heat of his built up excitement.

Weak in his arm's, almost ready to collapse. Dave turned, picking her up as he carried her over to the bed. Her arms barely held on. She released them from his neck, falling back onto the bed. With a small tilt to her head, she looked up at his peaceful smile. Laying pressed up against her heated body, Missy watched him for what seemed like minutes as she drifted off to sleep. 

The next morning Missy woke up to Dave standing over her with his robe on, holding the phone in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

"It's for you, sweetie. Are you awake enough to talk?" He chuckled, watching Missy look at him with groggy eyes.

"Uh, yeah." she said softly as he handed her the phone.

"Hello?" she leaned back into the pillow with a small pause. "Hi, Rick." Missy began, surprised to hear his voice as she watched Dave pull the sheet back.

"Uh huh, Oh? Um, yeah.?" watching intently, while trying to talk. With a sexy look, Dave lightly kissed up the inside of her thigh and then placed the cup of coffee at the edge of the end table.

"Well, I have given it some thought." as she sighed softly, watching Dave blow on her parted sex.

"Stop it, Dave." she whispered as his finger teased her sex.

"Oh, yeah, I'm listening. Sorry. " she said quickly.

"Do it, you know you want to." he breathed quietly between her legs.

"Okay. Uh huh, that sounds good." trying to think of the next thing to say as Dave's finger slid inside. "Oh!" clearing her throat, " Um, yes, that is great." she blurted out, trying to control her breath. "See you then. Bye Rick." as she dropped the cordless phone on the floor.

Her heated skin became peppered with goosebumps. "Dave, I have to...oooh." she stopped in the middle of her sentence, catching a quick breath. " ....get dressed. I only have one hour to get ready." she said, exhaling while pressing her hand to the top of his head.

"Ahhh, So you made up your mind about posing." his tone was excited, still at the inside of her thigh. He rose onto his bent knees and with a wicked smile, reached for the tie on his robe.

"Oohh, your so hard." she thought, watching his sex leap forward out in front of him, pushing his robe aside.

He began slowly touching, making a path down his muscular chest and over his stomach. Teasing his skin using his finger tips, he watched Missy while her eyes heatedly followed his every move. Extending his hand, Dave began to slide off the bed. Slipping her fingers into his hand, Missy's toes lazily reached the floor in front of him. Dave wrapped his arms around her nude body giving her a tight squeeze.




The Gallery



"Mmm, you smell as good as you did last night." he breathed down into her neck then pulled back, watching her eyes shut halfway. "Are you excited about posing for Rick?" he asked, cupping her cheeks in the palm of his hands, feeling her body mold into his.

"Yes. I have never done anything like this before." she answered, shyly looking up at him.

"Nervous?" his voice went deep into his throat.

A slow burning smile appeared on her face. "Maybe, a little." she quietly said.

His hands moved, gripping at the muscles in her lower back while his mouth exhaled next to her ear. Dave rubbed his chest against her warm breasts, pressing his sex up against her smoothly shaved center.

"I can't wait to watch your beautiful body." he finally said, enjoying the heat of her sex against him.

Missy slid her hands up the inside of his robe with her hands gliding up his muscular back, dragging her finger nails along the way. His soft lips danced back and forth across hers, barely touching them until she shook with a small chill.

"Time for you to get ready." he breathed.

Missy tilted her head up, trying to get closer and closer to his waiting mouth. Opening her eyes, Dave's hands slid under her jawline while his velvety tongue entered her mouth, curling and tasting her tongue. Her eyes shut instinctively, moving her hips forward as a soft moan was heard, feeling his excitement flinch against her.

"Mmmmm" she smiled wildly as she slowly started to backed away while releasing her grip on him. A loud smack and his hand made contact with her bare cheek.

"Come on, get moving." Dave chuckled as she looked back, just under her eyelashes rubbing her cheek.

An hour later at Rick's gallery, Missy stood in front of the large wall of art as Dave stood over at the front desk.

"Hi! We have a appointment with Rick." Dave said plainly. 

"Missy at 1 o'clock?" the lady at the desk questioned.

"Yes, that's right." he nodded.

"Rick is expecting you. He should done in a few minutes. He's just finishing up with another client." she said smiling back at him. 

"Thank you" Dave said quickly.

Standing in a small, slightly see through sundress, Missy stood with her fingers folded behind her, swaying from one leg to the other. "I can't believe I am doing this! What was I thinking?" she thought, taking a deep breath. " I don't look anything like these girls, not even close." she said, doubting herself as she chewed at the inside of her lip.

Walking a few more steps, she stopped in front of another piece of art. Missy nervously tapped her heel against the hardwood floor. The woman's body was stunning, with beautiful curves and a smooth shape, skin that looked as though it had never been harmed by sunlight. Missy looked on, studying the emotions on the woman's face, picturing what she felt at the time the pictures were taken. Her nipples showed hard, as though they had just been touched. Missy began to feel hers harden as the fabric on her dress rubbed and pulled against them with each breath she took. 

Dave walked slowly toward Missy as she stood at the wall of art. Watching her body's sway as her sundress kissed at the back of her thighs. His gaze dropped down, looking at her small ankles held by the straps of her white sandals.

"This has really caught your eye." Dave said, finally standing behind her with his hand coming to rest at her hips.

She flinched not realizing he was behind her and before she could answer.

"Hey!" Rick said, across the showroom floor as his heels were heard scuffing it walking toward them.

"Find a piece you like?" Rick questioned Missy, finally standing next to them. 

Missy turned her head and smiled. "Yes." she paused. " I would say it has a quiet beauty to it." finally catching Rick's beautiful eyes staring back at her.

Missy's heart began to race as Dave's arm wrapped around her neck line, resting it just below her shoulders.

"Can he feel how hard my heart is pounding?" she thought, feeling as though it was going to leap out of her chest as she glanced up at Dave with a curious smile.

"Ready to get started?" Rick said, looking at Missy.

"Ready when you are! " Missy said, trying to make herself believe that she could go through with it.

Rick turned, leading the way as he turned toward the front desk. "Hold all my calls."

The lady at the front desk gave Rick quick nod. Reaching a door at the other end of the gallery, Rick opened it, letting Dave and Missy pass through. A soft bed-like spot appeared first with various lights shining down on top of it. Another spot was just spotlights shining, with little circles appearing on the wall and carpet below it. Missy eye's scanned the room, looking at all the different places that the lights framed areas for pictures.

"Just toward the back, there's a door. That's your changing room." he paused, pointing past a few cameras that stood on tripods. "A robe is available that you can use." Rick added as he smiled, while Missy eyes continued to wander around the room. "It's your choice what you wear or not wear. Once you pick something, put on the robe and then come on out." Rick continued, placing his hand at the top of her shoulder, trying to get her attention.

"Okay, thanks Rick." she finally spoke, then turned, smiling at Dave as she walked away from them.

She stood in the dressing room. "Okay, it's now or never." she thought bravely, looking into the mirror as she held up an outfit.

A few minutes passed and Missy appeared at the door, walking toward Rick and Dave with a long, fuzzy blue robe that stopped just below her knees. Dave stood motionless as he began to see the white stockings peeking from underneath.

"That didn't take long." Dave chuckled.

"There is a lot of cool stuff in there." Missy added with a huge grin.

"That's a good choice, I'll put you over here." Rick spoke up, breaking the stare between them. Rick approached the bed, pulling the protective cover from it. White satin sheets were loosely tossed over it, almost making it look like a real bed.

"Okay, Missy. Show me what you want." Rick smiled, waiting for her to sit down on the bed.

Missy walked over to the edge of the bed, looking at Dave as he comfortably sat down in a chair just below a glowing light. Climbing onto the bed, Missy sat with her robe still tied.

"What would you like covered?" Rick asked, slowly walking up to her, holding a white sheet. Missy brought her hand to her ribs, just below her breasts. "From here up." she said with a innocent smile. 

"Okay, cover yourself with this." as Rick laid the sheet next to her then turned walking toward the camera as Missy began to open her robe, gazing into Dave's eyes.

Dave sat with one leg crossed and his elbow resting on the arm of the chair. His chin went to the palm of his hand, with wicked grin that curved the corners of his mouth. Dave suddenly sat up in his chair as Missy's breasts appeared then disappeared, leaving the sight of her beautiful legs as she laid back into the satin sheets.

"Okay, you may turn around." Missy said, finally.

Rick turned and with a smile walked over the to edge of the bed, professionally straightening out the sheet as he gave Missy a small wink. Walking back to the camera, he stood behind it, looking through the lens. Chills began to float up and down her body.

"Ohh, not now." she thought, looking over at Dave.

"Raise your hips off the sheets Missy." Rick said, as the camera took a few shots. "That's it. Now turn to the side." Rick said softly, directing her with each change of movement. Missy felt her sex heat up with each shot taken. A series of shots went off and Missy sat up, pulling the sheet around her. 

"Ok, new outfit!" she grinned, walking back to the dressing room.

Over the next two hours a series of pictures where taken with each outfit. Each one making her fill with desire. Rick's eyes were so inviting, moving her into each position while Dave also watched each and every move her body made. Missy could see Dave's excitement and the need to take her, the minute they were alone.

"Bring your arms forward, Missy." Rick said as she moved once again. With each picture more and more skin would show as Missy got braver with each outfit, wearing less and less.

"Okay, this is the last one. I'm getting hungry!" Missy spoke up as she entered the room once again with the robe tied in front of her. 

"Walk this way." Rick said as he walked toward soft lights. "It's going to be a little cold, but lay down over there on the table." Rick smiled as she dropped her robe comfortably at her feet.

"How do you want me?" Missy questioned with a stronger tone. 

Rick and Dave chuckled as they both watched Missy walked over to the table and lay down on her back. Her hands laying neatly folded across her tummy.

"Turn on your side and tuck one arm underneath your chin. Drop your head down." Rick said softly as he went on. "That's it.. hold it right there." The camera went off, taking a series of shots.

The cold table touched her skin, but she was no longer chilled from it. The crease of her sex slid against her moistened lips as she laid still, taking deep breaths, heated by the feeling of their eyes touching every part of her.

"Now flip over and arch your back." Rick said. " Place your hand down in front of you, turn your head." Rick added.

Missy automatically moved her legs before Rick asked as she got comfortable.

"Right there, don't move." Rick quickly spoke up.

"Okay, that's a wrap. I think we have everything we need." He said as Missy began to sit up.

Walking over to Rick, she reached down and grabbed the robe. "Thank you Rick. I'll be excited to see how these have turned out." Missy said as she walked toward the dressing room, smiling at herself.

Dave stood and reached a hand forward."Thanks, do you think you'll hang these in your gallery?" he asked, as Missy could hear the question while she grabbed the door knob to the dressing room.

"That is up too Missy." Rick said, quickly responding.

Appearing a few moments later, Missy stood in front of them in her sundress with her face and skin flushed in color. 

"Feeling alright?" Dave asked, reaching out to grab Missy's hand.

"Perfect!" she said with a smile. 

Dave turned toward Rick. "Thanks again!" with a quick slap to the shoulder.

"No, Thank you both." Rick paused. "Missy, I will call you when the pictures are ready." Rick added.

"Okay, I'm looking forward to it." she smiled wildly at him, knowing he was going to get to see her all over again while he was developing the pictures. They both turned and walked toward the door as Missy looked up at Dave with another smile.

"I did it, I actually did it!" she thought to herself.



The Gallery



A had been in London for a week: an extended stay after 4 exhausting days stuck in contract negotiation. It had taken it out of her. So it hadn't been a major decision to postpone the return flight and have a look round one of her favourite cities. 

She'd bought Time Out like a good tourist and consulted on the best shows, concerts and exhibitions to visit...she'd ticked a fair number off and had saved potentially the best till last...a small gallery just off the canals at Little Venice. She'd enjoyed lunch in a bijou waterside cafe watching the boats bob past and the collective mass of Londoners wander, head down in the hazy afternoon sun (she'd been lucky!).

Dressed in a simple Paul Smith dress she'd picked up yesterday in Covent Garden (knee length cream cotton, with a turquoise hem and slim brown leather belt) she strolled her way to the exhibition entrance. A square white building, not much bigger than a terrace house didn't bode particularly well...but books, covers etc... 

She rang the small silver bell to the side of the sturdy looking ash door. After a worryingly long wait, it eased back. A man, about her age, looked out, eyes wincing in the afternoon sunlight. Like all gallery folk he was dressed a little eccentrically; a plum cotton blazer, white tshirt, jeans and some trainers straight from a running track...but he wasn't bad looking. A smiled her best tourist smile "Er, hi...is this the place where The Woman is?"

"Um...yeah...(a little shy and awkward)...we closed 5 minutes ago though...I'm just locking up". Silence. "Oh shit" she thinks. She was assuming it was 4 and it was 5; she always ended up having a late lunch on vacation. 

"Oh no (turning on the *charm* smile) I'm heading back to? tomorrow. I really REALLY wanted to see it (head to one side, cute, employing those piercing eyes). Please...I'll be quick?"

He checks his watch. A thoughtful pause. "Yeah...no problems. I'll have to close up behind you. I'll let you out the back in 5, yeah?" A steps into the cool dark room and he locks the door behind her with a thud. He points to the painting ahead of her. "Please..." and with a slight blush returns to his open plan desk. 

I think he likes you...a little twinge of pleasure turns in her tummy. Her flat white sandals (Burberry) slap on the grey concrete floor. She self-consciously treads a little lighter as the echoes in the deserted room are deafening.

The room is indeed impressive; better than she would have assumed from outside. Square, white, high walls topped by narrow oblong windows (that only let in a modicum of light) surround a single painting, 10ft by 8 ft., hanging from the ceiling. 

The lack of light was mandated by the artist, Emmaline Parry, a young British artist who wanted the audience to get up close. It's quite breathtaking. A reworking of Picasso's masterpiece. The pain had gone, replacing it was pleasure; a head thrown back in unadulterated ecstasy. The teeth bared...the hair flowing...the eyes unfocussed...not looking...only feeling.

A looked at it and lost herself in it. The colours. The lines. All made her think about the last time she'd felt that. Between a job that required travel and a broken down marriage, well, it had been a long time ago. But somehow the memory stirred something deep in her; starting in her tummy...working down the front of her thighs and back up her again. It felt wonderful. She became aware of the warmth hovering around her groin. Instinct told her to touch herself but she refrained...maybe later...

It was only then she became aware if him next to her again. About 6 feet away, close but not close enough to invade her space. She glanced over: he seemed to be lost in the woman's face as well. Out of the corner of her eye she took him in...over 6 foot...brown scruffed-ip hair...blue eyes...nice lips...and an obvious reaction to the painting in his tight jeans. She looked away, embarrassed for him and herself. But that abated and was in turn replaced by curiosity and something else: a desire to see all of him.

"Good, huh?" she said straining to keep her eyes above his waist. (Distracted) "...hhhmmm? Oh...yeah...(smiles shyly, blushing again you think, hard to tell in this light). I look at it longest at this time every day...the best light...really...brings it all out." 

"Yeah, I noticed." you tease, but he doesn't take the bait.

"I've..g...got to close up now" he mumbles. OK, she admits defeat, but he's going to have to tell her the way back to the tube. She steps to him, tube map in hand but the damn thing slips to the hard floor. She goes for it, but (British, chivalrous to the end) so does he, and a slight collision of skulls occurs...

"Oh Jesus, I'm so...sorry." Doing a best effort impression of Hugh Grant he begs forgiveness while hunched down on the floor as he tries to recover her papers. She can feel the aroused nervous energy coming off him and it strengthens her resolve to do something about it...she does what comes natural to her in life...she takes control. 

Her knees bend, and she lowers herself to his level. Her arm extends and places a hand on the soft material of his jacket; she squeezes his shoulder but says nothing, just holds his gaze...let's an almost imperceptible smile play across her lips and her other hand passes her fingertips down his jawline. (In hushed tones) "Its ok...it did the same to me"- she cocks her head at the painting hovering over them.

His eyes pass from hers to her lips and back again. That's when she swoops. Her lips push against his. She feels his inhalation of shock but he isn't going anywhere, and he relaxes into the kiss ("that's better" she thinks). Their mouths widen, his hand drops the paper and moves to cradle the back of her head. Her boyish haircut, spikey to the eyes is soft to his fingers. Tongues meet now as they explore each other, tasting each other. 

She breaks the kiss to briefly look up at the bright paint on the canvas. His heart jumps like a rabbit thinking she has seen the error of her crazy ways, but she takes him by the wrist and gently moves the palm of his hand up her dress and onto her silky thigh. "Ah...are you sure?" he breathes, not quite able to follow how quick she's moving, but she's sure what she wants...she wants to be like the woman above them. "Of course: touch me."

His fingers cautiously move to the plain white cotton thong adorning her. His fingertips graze across the soft material and he can feel the shape of her raw flesh underneath. Her arms flung round his neck, she holds him tight urging him to go on, further. "Pull them to one side please," she says, lust catching in her throat. His fingers do her bidding, trembling with excitement. 

He touches her, for the first time skin to skin, and it feels like electricity shooting up her. Her feels her wetness...there since she really looked at the painting. The inside of his knuckles pass over her clitoris and she moans at the change in texture and pressure. 

She purrs quietly into his neck and her lips press against him looking to taste his flesh as he sets hers on fire. He slips his middle finger into her now and she whimpers, tensing. He feels her soft flesh tighten around him...she feels wonderful.

"Stop..." She directs him and again takes him by the wrist. This time the destination of his hand is up to her mouth; his gaze is held by hers as she unflinchingly takes his fingers and sucks her juice from him. Her eyes shut tight at the exquisite taste of herself. "Sit back" (he looks like he needs a rest, his face set in a mask of awe at this...creature). He rocks back and sits on the concrete floor examining her. On all fours she crawls to him and makes no pause in undoing his flies. 

She looks him in his bright blue eyes, their faces about a foot apart as she puts her fingers into his pants...searching...wrapping around his already half hard member. Her eyes fall now: she wants to contemplate the almost obscene sight of his dick being pulled out. Her teeth dig into her lower lip; it's a nice size...very, and as it falls in her hand and feeling its satisfying weight, she wants only one thing: to feel it in her hungry mouth.

She brings her eager face to it and kisses the bulbous head. She savours the silky texture, passing it back and forth across her lips, over her chin and up over her cheek...teasing him mercilessly. She wants to devour him as much as he wants her to and eventually she opens up, slips her tongue under his head and takes it in. 

She feels it throbbing and growing to its final size. Not sucking it yet, she just senses his shape, sliding her tongue up, exploring his hole, stretching it. Her hand slides down and reaches to caress his balls; this causes him to tense and she loves the sensation of his cock fighting to free itself from her control. 

Its now that she wants to suck him...the muscles in her mouth tense, drawing him against her. "Ahhhh..." he cries, moving his hips involuntarily towards her (she's been told before that she can suck a little TOO hard). And then after the first few full sucks she settles into a rhythm. Just taking him in an inch or two, releasing and sliding back down. 

Saliva begins to collect in the corners of her mouth, and she begins to taste the unmistakable tang of his precum. He's ready, although she could carry on doing that forever, she wants him in her...now. With a wet *smack* she relinquishes his dick. Again she slides the head slowly across the soft skin of her face leaving a slight trail of combined fluids.

OK...no words required now. Rising and taking him by the hand she leads him to his minimalistic desk. No need to do the dramatic sweep of office detritus! Hands moving up her dress, she removes the thong, sits on the table and leans back. Opening her legs and lifting her dress she exposes her shaven slit to him; her hand passes down and gently teases her swollen labia open. He can see her glistening even in the half light...

"Now" she commands. He doesn't demure. Taking his head he pushes against her entrance...he's a little big for her and hesitantly tries to gently work his way in. But she wants it, so she reaches around his waist and encourages him to thrust; with one powerful movement he's fully in her and she emits a small scream. She smiles again and relaxes her head back on the table. He can start now. 

Slowly he enters and slides out, enters and slides out. She feels like he's filling her to capacity, her walls being stretched every time: it feels overwhelming. "Harder" she says, leaving him in no doubt. He rolls his hips faster, each time he retracts she thinks he'll exit completely but at the end of every repetition he drives into her again. Each time she wants to scream.

He's fast now, banging into her and her body begins to hum, that familiar feeling of the very start of an orgasm. She clenches her buttocks, feeling her own juices leak and slide down past her ass. His tight grip on her hips heightens her pleasure and this is magnified even more as she ventures a finger down to tease her clitoris. 

More than anything the sight of her touching herself begins his orgasm. His legs begin to feel weak, tension rising from the knee to the thigh. His skin prickles...he can feel it passing from his legs and up his back. She too feels it now. Every molecule of her concentrates its attention on the energy building between her legs. 

He reaches the point of no return and whilst still thrusting, he doubles over, onto her. He twitches, feels his lower half almost give way and he unloads his hot come inside her. His hips jam up hard against her and she can feel him filling her up: this triggers her final moments of climax. 

Lifting her knees up and raising her ass off the table, tightening the vice of her legs around his torso. She bucks a few times, her pussy tight, ringing every drop from him. In that moment she resembles the painting...freed of everything...becoming only a vessel for pure pleasure.

And with that they collapse. Spent. He leans and places his head on her shoulder, plants a soft kiss on her neck. He smells her perfume mixed with the musk of recent sex. She places her arms around him again and pulls him closer. Feels the comforting weight of his body on her as she leaks their thick mess onto the desk. But she cares not...this was an unexpected end to the trip. A happy end.

He turns his head and smiles mischievously. "I forgot to tell you it's £5 entry..." She rolls her eyes and nips him at the waist...then kisses him gently on the lips.



The Gallery



He wasn’t given long, though, as guest after guest took advantage of the chair left in front of him to repeat the procedure again and again. Between each he had just enough time to gather his strength and it began again, until his moans were carrying clearly over the conversations in the room. In between these pleasurable tortures, he would look to find Her, and always She was watching, even as She spoke to someone else. A small, pleased smile touched Her lips as She watched, and that was enough to give him reason to carry on, to somehow find a way to keep his promise. 

The others bound against the walls weren’t being ignored. While Andrew was “in use”, the guests used the others for their entertainment. It seemed, however, that these others were those who had already been in Andrew’s place of honor and undergone the rigors of this test among the crowd. The guests seemed to treat them almost as an afterthought, a side show to the real performance taking place center stage. To Andrew, however, the sight of the other bound women and man undergoing the same treatment only served to further excite him. He split his attention between the Adonis, whose large cock had only gotten larger and more impressive and whose moans rivaled his own, and the plump little redhead who tossed her head fetchingly as she was teased. 

As the latest hand left his straining cock, Andrew slumped forward in his bonds, looking down at his own member as it pulsed and throbbed, just waiting for the next hand. He watched as a clear drop of precome welled out and gathered, gleaming in the bright lights. Suddenly, beneath his gaze, Her hand appeared and She scooped up that droplet on Her fingertip, bringing it to his lips. Andrew closed his eyes and sucked Her finger into his mouth, savoring the taste of himself against his tongue and on Her skin. While he held Her finger in his mouth, he felt Her lips against his cheek again.

“Gerald is going to try to break you, but you must resist, darling. He is, I suppose you might say, a rival of mine. I broke his sweet boy in the corner over there and now he’s determined to do it to you.” Her lips brushed against his forehead, then cheek. “Be good, my darling. I know you can.”

And with that She drew her finger from his mouth and slipped back, leaving him to open his eyes and face this man. He was tall and lithe with a powerful air that said he would have strength and long muscles beneath that expensive suit. His eyes seemed to bore into Andrew as he hung there, sizing him up, idly tossing his dark hair back away from his face with a jerk of his chin. A woman stood behind him, nearly as tall and just as dark as he, but with a sly, anticipatory smile. She was beautiful in a classic sense and something about her seemed subservient, but at the same time calculating, as if she had an agenda of her own. Gerald snapped his fingers and drew the woman around in front of him, where she stood with fluttering, fawning obedience.

“Amelia, sweet one, use that delicious mouth of yours on him. Don’t stop until I tell you to stop.”

Andrew looked across at Her in a panic, but She simply smiled confidently at him and gave a little shake of Her head. He wasn’t sure if it was to remind him not to come or to tell him not to panic, but he swallowed hard and tried to strengthen his resolve. The dark haired vixen had gotten to her knees in front of him and was looking up at him with large, shadowed eyes filled with amusement. She licked her lips, then flicked the tip of her tongue across the head of his cock, savoring the taste of his precome there. It seemed she was in no rush to take him into her mouth, however, because she dipped her head and began to lave her tongue across Andrew’s balls, held so tightly in their straps. He could feel her hair brushing against his thighs, her cheek brushing against his cock as her tongue worked at him, toying with his aching balls. She gathered one, then the other into her mouth, sucking them one at a time between her lips. Andrew writhed, cock growing impossibly harder as he struggled to maintain some semblance of control. Unfortunately the woman working on his balls was all too aware of his squirming and laughed softly, still holding his aching balls against her lips, sending tantalizing little vibrations along his skin.

Gerald watched, smiling, as Amelia toyed with Andrew’s bound balls, and his hand slipped down to massage his cock through his trousers. Andrew followed the movement with his eyes and then squeezed them shut, pressing his lips together against a moan. He was, then, surprised to feel hands unclasping his wrists and legs, strong arms catching him from behind when he nearly fell as his weight shifted. The talented Amelia hardly missed a beat as Andrew was lowered to the floor, startled to see that Gerald was the one helping him to lie down. He opened his mouth to ask, to make sure that this was allowed, but he stayed himself when he saw Her looking over Gerald’s shoulder with that same serene smile. Instead he gasped, open mouthed, as Amelia slide her mouth down over the head of his cock and began to swirl her tongue around him. It was like being bathed in a hot, wet vortex of sensation and he could almost feel his balls jerking up against the straps holding them taut. 

Andrew felt his upper body lifted slightly until he was in a semi-reclining position, unsure of just who was holding him when he saw Gerald coming around to face him. The taller man knelt over Andrew, a knee on either side of his chest, and began to unzip his trousers. Andrew couldn’t bear to take his eyes away from the sight to see who held him in their embrace, instead his entire being was split between the sensations on his cock, and the slow unveiling taking place in front of his face. Gerald’s hand dipped into the open fly and slowly withdrew his long, slender cock, already hard. Andrew’s tongue dashed against his lips, because he knew what was coming, and relished it. This was something that She had gotten him to admit having fantasies about and the idea that it would really come true thrilled and excited him. He felt soft hands against his cheeks and looked up to see Her looking down at him, serene smile still in place, holding him cradled in Her lap. She tapped his chin and he dutifully opened his mouth and looked up at Gerald once more just as the smooth head of his cock slipped between Andrew’s lips. 

Andrew’s eyes drifted closed as he enjoyed the sensation of the cock sliding into his mouth, his tongue automatically moving across the head to savor the taste of him. He felt Her lift his head slightly, nudging him, helping him to push back and forth against the cock in his mouth, Her fingers woven through his hair. Gerald didn’t so much moan, above him, as issue a guttural growl of satisfaction as Andrew closed his lips around his cock and began to suck greedily. Andrew himself was surprised at his own reaction. There was no hesitance, though this was until this moment only a fantasy for him, instead the act seemed to further excite him. He felt each thrust of Gerald’s cock into his mouth mirrored by Amelia’s mouth sliding down over his cock, her hands rolling and petting his balls as she suckled him. Andrew’s eyes squeezed shut, trying to cut off at least the visual stimulation of Gerald, head thrown back, moaning over him. It was almost too much for Andrew, who began to buck his hips against the floor, unsure of whether he was trying to escape Amelia’s mouth or push further into the warm depths that surrounded his cock. 

Gerald’s hand found Andrew’s hair and his fingers knotted into it forcefully, causing Andrew to cry out softly against the cock in his mouth and his breath to quicken, but the assault did not stop. She leaned in behind him, bringing Her mouth down next to his ear. 

“I told you your most divine dreams might come true, my darling slut. Doesn’t Gerald have a gorgeous cock? Doesn’t he taste divine. Just wait until he comes into your mouth.” Her words were soft, but loud enough for Gerald to hear, and he moaned one last harsh time and then pressed his cock forward into Andrew’s mouth as he began to orgasm.

Andrew, caught by surprise, felt himself starting to tumble over the edge as Gerald’s come began to fill his mouth, unable to control his own response to the sensation. Thankfully, Amelia withdrew at just that moment to sit up and wrap her arms around Gerald, her hands moving to stroke his chest and stomach as he pumped into Andrew’s mouth. As he recovered his equilibrium following his orgasm, Gerald pulled away from Andrew’s mouth, one hand wrapping around his softening cock as he almost glared down. Almost automatically, Andrew licked his cock clean with long sweeps of his tongue, eyes closed against the expression in the other man’s eyes. After he was done, he felt the couple withdraw from him, leaving him lying on the floor in the midst of a quietly conversing group of people, his aching cock still standing rigidly up from his body. She continued to cradle him, kissing his forehead and smoothing the hair back away from his face.

“You’ve done very, very well tonight, darling. I think Gerald is angrier at his defeated attempt than I’ve ever seen him.” Her quiet voice was filled with satisfaction. “It serves him right. Now...rest a moment and we’ll get you a drink before the last of the evening’s activities.”

She rose, leaving him reclining on the floor in a state of confusion. Andrew couldn’t fathom how there could be more, but the room certainly still seemed to buzz with anticipation. He sat up slowly, taking a moment to massage his sore wrists and look around at the guests and the other displayed bodies. To his surprise, though, sometime during the evening the others had been removed. He was now the only naked body in the room, and the thought made him feel inexplicably stripped. She returned with a glass of water, which Andrew drank slowly, and a little plate of food. He found, however, that he couldn’t stomach the food, his apprehension of the last activity of the evening making his stomach flutter. 

Sooner than he would have liked, though, She beckoned him up from the floor and lead him to a small raised dais that he hadn’t seen before, as it was positioned behind the frame which had held him. There was a single microphone set in the center of the dais, and small, official looking man was adjusting its height. She led him to one side of the dais and instructed him to stay put, then nodded to the gentleman who had just finished setting up the microphone to his liking. He gave it a sharp tap with one immaculately manicured fingernail, then cleared his throat. The room fell into immediate silence and the guests turned as one towards the dais. Yes, this was the moment that they had been waiting for, and Andrew shivered as he tried to think what could possibly be coming. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the man cleared his throat again. 

“Yes, I can see I have your attention now. Well...ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to thank you for coming this evening. As you know, it is our tradition every six months to have one member exhibit a personally trained man or woman for our evening’s entertainment. Elizabeth has shown that this man is truly one of her best achievements. And so, without further ado, on to the, perhaps most anticipated point of the evening. Now that we’ve had a chance to see Elizabeth’s work in action, I would invite each of you to come and make a closer examination before our auction commences. We will begin in thirty minutes, which should give everyone ample time. Thank you.” 

Andrew stood silently stunned as the entire room full of guests turned their eyes on him. Auction? Auctioned off? He couldn’t believe that She would turn him over into the hands of strangers, but this certainly sounded like the point of that announcement. Andrew returned their stares, wondering which of those gathered in the room would be the one to pay the highest price to have him. Across the room he saw Gerald’s sharp glare and the thought that it might be him thrilled and frightened Andrew.

She stepped back to allow room and, in small groups, guests began to approach again. It was just like the initiation of the evening, with hands from all sides reaching to touch him, but this time there was no teasing to it and, oddly, this seemed to excite him all the more. Hands tugged at his cock, testing the length and girth, hefted his balls and rolled them to see how heavy they felt against the palm. Andrew felt his legs being nudged apart and a pair of small, feminine hands pried his buttocks apart while another hand slipped between to tease at his anus. He quivered, cock twitching, as he fought against a moan that threatened to escape him. Suddenly his chin was tugged down, mouth opened to its fullest extent by a conspiratorially smiling pair of men. The breath rushed out of Andrew all at once, his resolve to maintain his composure disappearing in that one moment. He cried out softly, letting his arms relax and be lifted away from his body by another inspecting pair of hands. Bodies pressed in against him, luxurious fabrics brushing his skin as the wearers leaned in to poke and prod and feel him. Finally it drew to an end, the half hour stretching out into days in Andrew’s mind, and he was surprised to open his eyes on a gaily milling gathering of chattering people. The blood thumped behind his eyes and it was echoed by a throbbing of his cock as he watched the man approach the microphone once more.

“Alright, then. Now that everyone’s had their chance, let’s let the auction commence.”

Andrew expected him to begin, but instead the man turned and looked significantly at Her and She stepped forward to speak quietly to Andrew.

“Darling, tradition is that, to enhance the bidding, you’re required to stroke your cock during the entire auction. This is supposed to increase the amounts being bid, since it will invigorate the crowd. Give them a good show.” and with that She stepped back. 

The man continued to stare at Andrew until, swallowing hard, he took his cock in his hand for the first time in two days, and began to slowly stroke up and down the shaft. He had to bite his lip to keep from crying out, so wonderful was the sensation of his own hand on his cock. After a moment or two, the man nodded and turned back to the microphone to begin accepting bids. 

Andrew barely heard any of it, save for the quiet calls of numbers that echoed inside of his head meaninglessly. He realized that the amounts began at one thousand and rapidly escalated from there, but that was as far as his rational mind could reach. Instead he was captivated by the sensation in his cock. It is something nearly miraculous to touch your cock yourself after a long period of not being allowed to, and it was almost more devastating than all of the touches that had come earlier in the evening, even Amelia’s mouth. Hundreds of eyes feasted on him as he was locked in his private struggle against orgasm, his already slow strokes starting to slow even further to keep himself from going over the edge. Soon it became apparent to Andrew, though, that only two voices were being heard alternatingly calling out amounts.

He came back to himself enough to hear Gerald calling out his bid, and it caused Andrew’s cock to pulse against his hand, almost sending him over the edge in that one instant. Andrew had to slow even further, his cock all but trembling as he switched to barely touching himself, avoiding the head of his cock entirely. Another voice rang out and Andrew looked toward it, spying a man far back in the crowd. He wasn’t quite as tall as Gerald, fairer of hair and eye, and he seemed to almost be pleased at the other man’s irritation at their competitive bidding. Andrew slowed his hand even more, gritting his teeth to fight against the impending orgasm. He hoped, feverishly, that one of the two would give in so that he would be allowed to stop. He didn’t even dare hope to come, but just to stop would be a blessing. He didn’t even care which of the two men finally won. 

A hard, sharp sound barely penetrated Andrew’s consciousness, fogged as it was by his struggle with control, but the room grew quiet and suddenly Andrew was aware of another presence on the dais. The fair haired man was standing beside him, wearing a pleased smile. Somehow, to Andrew, it seemed at once friendly and slightly menacing. Almost like Hers. He felt the man’s hand close over his wrist and draw his hand away from his cock, and Andrew groaned loudly in disappointment, his cock bobbing up and down to the delight of the audience. Two soft hands drew his arms behind him and pinioned his wrists, causing Andrew to look around, but he was unable to see who it was. She was standing nearby, smiling triumphantly, and Andrew found himself in a state of intense confusion. 

The man laughed and slipped his arm behind Andrew’s back, cupping his buttocks, while his other hand moved to his cock. Warm, but with a hard, unyielding feeling of masculinity so surprisingly arousing to Andrew, he felt the other man’s hand wrap around his cock and begin to stroke him. Unlike the soft, careful touches he himself had been using, this man pumped his cock with full, quick strokes, his palm sliding up over the head and twisting gently around it before slipping back down. It was only moments before Andrew was crying out and begging softly between gasps, unsure if he was begging for them to stop or to let him come. All he could utter was a desperate “Please! Please!”

Finally, She came up behind him and moved I against his ear, pressing the other woman behind him up against his body, and the man’s hand closer against his ass. Gathered there, in a delectable group around the struggling Andrew, they made quite a display for the hungry eyes of the guests. Lips pressed against his ear, She whispered.

“Come now.”

With a wrenching cry, Andrew pressed himself forward into the man’s hand, rocking his hips against the touch until he finally felt him entire body quake as the orgasm overtook him. Jet after jet of come erupted from him, falling to the floor of the dais, almost invisible against the tile except for the sheen beneath the lights. Quiet applause broke out amongst the guests and the party began to break up with laughter and discussion, as the dais lost its attraction for them and individuals prepared to leave. Andrew slumped back against Her as She cradled him, gasping and panting. The other woman slipped out from behind and smiled at him, and Andrew was shocked to see that it was the redhead who had been bound to his right. 

Andrew half expected for Her to tell him to kneel and lick up his mess, but before She could the man gestured to the luscious redhead and she dropped to begin delightedly licking the tile clean. Watching her ass as she crawled across the floor was almost enough to make Andrew’s cock stir again. Almost. He forced himself to look away, though, and close his eyes to relax against Her as She stroked and petted his tired body. The man leaned down, looking directly at Andrew, but speaking to Her.

“I’ll call and arrange a time for you both to come. I’m looking quite forward to it, though it was really Julia that wanted me to buy your boy here.”

Andrew felt Her nod, and heard a quiet laugh. “Alright, James. I’m so glad you came tonight. Otherwise we might have a date with Gerald and Amelia and I don’t think Andrew would like that much.”

Andrew trembled at the thought and opened his eyes slowly, looking up at James, the one who had spent so much money to acquire time with him. James smiled broadly, displaying perfect, dazzlingly white teeth.

“I look forward to seeing you, pet. Indeed I do.”

With that, Julia rose to her feet and the two of them left the hall. Andrew slumped against Her and nuzzled into Her neck, almost hiding from the world against Her body as She sat stroking his hair.




The Gallery



“You were so very good tonight, darling. I only hope you can be just as good when the time comes and give James his money’s worth. Come on, let’s go home and you can rest. Then we’ll discuss exactly what I expect of you when the time comes.”



The Gamble



How dare that fuzz bucket wire-haired snaggled-tooth jerk tell me that I didn't know squat about playing pool! Somebody should inform the numskull that my daddy was the state 9-ball Champ for 4 years running and my Grandpa was the owner of this town's biggest and baddest billiard room in the early 1940's. Pool is my first, middle and last name. Oh well, hindsight is 20-20, so they say. I threw a $50 spot on the worn green-carpeted table. The game is on.

I had beaten my gambling addiction a few times but each time it came back stronger, beating me up worse. I loved to play while on an edge. I had the edge tonight like the angles of a triangle, crisp and sharp. My game was on and going strong. I beat him 4 of 4 games, and with every game the wager grew. Each time I skillfully sunk the 8-ball with a smooth as silk stroke. In my mind, when I took my shot, I imagined my cue stick was a long smooth cock that I steadily caressed, following through on the final down stroke, making the target ball slip into the dark welcoming hole of a pocket.

I sound like I own a cock. Well, I don't. I am a 25-year-old blonde haired blue-eyed petite woman. A Duke University baseball cap perfectly hides my soft curls. My plain blue jeans are loose fitting ones that fail to reveal the lack of male bulges. Breasts are harvested melons for the women in my family. Too bad, my seeds never sprung. I had no breasts hardly, just large nipples. Many thought I was a man due to my shape. But underneath this harsh tough as nail exterior, I was a soft pliable lady. I just chose to let assumptions and stereotypes remain.

I won 1 K off the arrogant ass. I was stuffing my jeans pocket when he said to let us go for one more game. What a dill weed! I had just taken 90% of his money, what did he have to offer. I don't play for jewelry or post-dated checks. I reminded him that he had nothing worth 1 K to me and that I was heading home. He asked if I could give him a few minutes. I had a full beer sitting on the jukebox collecting condensation, as Pasty Cline sang "Crazy." I informed the sweating mass of pudgy pudding that he had until the next to last swallow of my beer to make his point.

He ran into the bar area of the pool hall. A few of my buddies were giving me pats on the back telling me how great that I played. Like I said-the edge was alive tonight. I could not lose. It was written in the constellations. I bet if I called my tarot card reader that she would agree with me, and probably reveal that I was a small-breasted woman, too.

Humpty Dumpty came huffing back. If he insisted on another game, I wondered if he realized that all the king's horses and all the king's men didn't have enough glue to hold his game together. Behind him, reluctantly following was the most beautiful woman that I had ever seen. She had long thick bouncing black hair and big green eyes. She was tall and curvy, almost bursting out of the top of her red dress with cleavage. Her breasts would have fit in at my family reunion, as they were ripe full melons. Her skin was pale and translucent. Her full lips were scarlet and her nails were fuck me red.

My mouth fell open when he told me that his bet was his girl. She was mine if I won and if I lost, his money was once again his. What was I to do with a woman! The cheers and catcalls drowned out my protests. I watched in amazement, as the sweating desperate prick racked the balls. My eyes fell on the lady or whatever she was. She gave me a challenging look, as if daring me, taunting me to refuse to play. With my blue eyes locked in a contest of wills with her green ones, I gallantly rallied the crowd. This was no contest and would be a total mockery of a game. My edge was on. I was as infallible as the God of Billiards was.

With the crowd's silence riding shotgun on my shoulder, I lowered my pool stick. Taking aim, I steadied my bridge, for the jukebox Conway Twitty's voice sang, "Its only make-believe." Inhaling a big lung full of stale smoke filled air, I broke the balls. They ran around the pool table. I swear they sounded like banshees. Screams of joy filled the room, as the 8-ball went into the pocket on the break. I had won. A hundred to one shot and I made it. Now what the hell was I going to do with a woman! I looked over at the simmering voluptuous female. I was shocked to see a small smile on her face. Our eyes met of a brief moment, electricity passed between us. Mr. Loser shook my hand, telling me that I was one lucky bastard. He knew when to quit. I thanked him for offering his girl and told him that I didn't expect for him to go through with his wager. It was cool and no one would find out.

He laughingly slapped my back, saying that she didn't expect a gentleman and to give it to her rough because she liked to be treated like a slut. I fumed. How dare he call this vision of loveliness a slut! As if she knew we were discussing her, she came over and placed her arms around the pig, kissing him deeply. She asked if she should let me cum in her. He laughed, telling her to do like they always do. I realized that I was a pawn in some kind of twisted sexual game between them. Boy was she in for a surprise! Acting male, I squeezed her as and winked at her pimp like boyfriend. He told me that I had all night to do whatever I wanted with her but she had to be back at his place by 8 am. He gave me an address about ten blocks from my place. I was tired of the pool hall. I glanced at my watch. It was hitting 2 am. The bar would be closing in a few minutes.

She followed me to my bike. I could tell that she wasn't too thrilled about riding on it. I gave her my helmet, telling her that we had just a couple of blocks to drive and to hang on tight that I like it fast and wild. She smiled at that comment. I could smell her skin, as she leaned into me. Her breasts were pressing into my back. Her nipples felt like fingers poking me. If I had a cock, it would have been bursting to cum with the way she rubbed her breasts against my back. I drove the bike like a daredevil, giving her the ride of the night, since I couldn't give her a ride like she and Mr. Hustler thought she was going to get.

My apartment was about the garage of an elderly couple. It was a small two-room place. I rarely had company over. After the incident in Denver with Mac, I guarded my heart. I didn't date or entertain. The pool hall patrons didn't find me attractive and I believe half of them thought I was a man or a lesbian. But did I care? Not really, I was happy not having some fool try to probe me with his wasted weenie.

I offered her a beer. She gave my apartment the once over with her hawk like eyes. She declined, asking if she could freshen up in the bathroom. I politely nodded. She was in there for about 10 minutes. Sitting on the couch, I pondered the situation. I had a dildo that I could fuck her with. With the lights off, and keeping my clothes on, I think I could fool her. When she walked back into the room, I had a sinking feeling. I knew I couldn't pull off the charade. She had removed her red dress and was standing in the doorway of the bathroom. She was as vision, wearing black stockings, a garter belt and a bunch of scarlet lipstick. Nothing else-no panties and no bra. She was the mold that the gods used to create the body of goddesses. Her skin was clear and so porcelain fine. Black hair cascaded down her back and over her shoulders. A few wisps of curls cradled her nipples with their deep pink hue making me dizzy.

She walked over to where I sat and stood in front of me, asking if I liked what I saw. Honestly, I am no lesbian but at that moment, I wanted to taste her. Offering her breasts to my lips, I sucked them. Oh Goddess, manna from heaven. I kissed down her flat stomach. My hands stroked her inner thighs. She trembled when I accidentally brushed her pussy lips, which were shaven.

She asked if I was gonna fuck her on the couch. She deserved satin sheets, flower petals and champagne. Oh well, flannel sheets were gonna have to work. I pushed her hand away from my crotch. I wasn't ready to confess that I was a woman. I wanted to lick her first. She laughed at me, thinking that I was a shy young man. I didn't care. She was going to be very surprised.

I led her to my modest single bed. Pushing her down on it, I dove into her pussy. I licked and massaged it. Sucking her little stiff clit into my mouth, I listened to her moans. I knew I was doing it right, as this was how I loved to be licked. She wrapped her legs around my shoulders, urging me to tongue her. Her taste was sweet and heady. It made me weak. The first time she came, she cried out pulling my hair. I continued to suck lightly on her clit, as my fingers slid inside her tight pussy. The mushy swampy sounds were in tune with her labored breathing.

After she had come the third time, she started demanding that I fuck her. She pushed me away, pulling at my shirt. I told her to take it easy, because I couldn't perform-that I was impotent. She didn't believe that. Oh well, might as well show her the truth. I stood up and stripped under her watchful green eyes. My pussy was throbbing to be touched. I knew that later I would masturbate. When she saw my small breasts with their big puffy nipples, her eyes grew big. But when she saw my trimmed pussy, they grew even bigger. I held my breath.

Throwing back her head, she laughed as her black curls danced across the pillow. Holding out her hand, she urged me to come to her. Pulling me down onto her, she kissed me softly and tenderly. Her fingers found my nipples. She whispered that she loved small-breasted women. I could not believe what I was hearing. The Goddess was smiling down on me. Her approval was her mouth on my nipples. I was the one trembling now.

I found myself lying on my back as she sucked my fat nipples. Her silky tresses teased my stomach. Her kisses left red lipstick on my breasts and tummy like a crimson passion trail. I was trimmed where she was bald. Would she mind I wondered? She kissed my thighs, pushed my legs apart, and began to take long deliberate licks up my pussy slit. Oh, how good her tongue felt! I relaxed. She was better at this than I was. She teased my clit as I had teased her. How she licked me! As if I were cream, she lapped at my pussy. When I came the first time, she didn't stop. But threw her pussy over my face into a 69 position, so that I could eat her too.

We went on for hours until 6 am, coming over and over. Curling into sleep, we purred like kittens contented. An hour later, I awoke. I looked at her and remembered that I had to have her back to her fat lover by 8 am. This made me think the night before and their parting conversation. He had wanted me to fuck her like a slut. But we had fucked each other like lovers. I had wanted to lick her once again gently. But this time, I decided that she really did need fucking, so I got my vibrator out. I began licking her awake. She wasn't full alert until I slid the vibrator in and turned it up full blast, while I steadily licked her clit. I wanted her to return to the pig sated and weak. I fucked her hard with the unrelenting dildo and my tongue showed no mercy to her clit. She cried out, screaming that she was coming, calling for God and begging me not to stop. I didn't. The aggressive side of me took over.

I flipped her over to fuck her doggie style with the fake cock, slapping her ass as I did it. She begged me to call her names. Slut and bitch she became. Demandingly, I made her lie on her back with her legs open wide. I sat on her face, telling her to eat me as I fucked her. She went wild on my pussy. I had released a pussy hungry animal. Her tongue stuffed my pussy while her fingers danced over my clit. I leaned over her to slip the vibrator inside her, the batteries long dead, as I sucked her clit. We came at the same time, covering each other with creamy pussy juice.

I climbed off her and wiped the wet vibrator all over her body. I helped her to get dressed. She smelled like pussy, which was what I wanted. Was sending her back to the arrogant pig of a man whom got off on her sexual escapades, weak and cum soaked like he wanted but cum soaked by a woman and not a man. For some reason, this made me smile.



The Gamble Pays Off



A few months ago this gorgeous brunette moved into the apartment next to mine. She looked to be in her early 20's with a pretty face and a tight body to kill for. Before she lived there a couple in their 50's lived there. The reason I know this is because from my bedroom window I could peer down into their apartment, which was one level below. Despite the ideal view for voyeuring I never really did because they weren't very attractive people.

This had all changed for the good now as I soon found out. One night her bedroom light caught my eye as I was doing something in my room. Even though she had blinds up they weren't very effective from the vantage point of my window as I could see fairly clearly right down into her room. Suddenly she came walking into her bedroom wrapped in a towel as she obviously had just gotten out of the shower. She brushed her hair for a few minutes in front of the mirror then I got my reward. She dropped the towel and walked to her dresser to retrieve her nighty. While she did this I had a great view of first her tight ass, and then her shapely breasts and dark patch of pubic hair. Much to my dismay she got dressed and turned off the light before leaving the room. 

Having gotten a taste of this highly erotic scene, I wanted more, so for the next few weeks I was constantly checking to see if her light was on. If it were on I would sit and wait for the action to start. There were a few events that were similar to the first but usually I would end up disappointed.

About a month after she moved in things took another turn for the better, a male friend, I assume her boyfriend started showing up. He would show up around 10pm every other night and sometimes stay the night. Since her bed was fully viewable to me through her wonderful blinds, I watched them get intimate on a number of occasions. My favorite position was when she would get on top. From that view I could see her plump yet firm breasts bouncing up and down as her tight pussy road his pole. They had a routine that usually started with some fondling then some oral by one or both then the intercourse. 

Possibly looking for new thrills they started introducing new elements to their routine. One of my favorites was the blindfold she would put on during their encounters. They must have had a role playing game of some sort going on as I noticed she would just lay there motionless and he would come into the room with a blue ski mask and have his way with her and then leave as if it were some sort of a non-consensual thing. This was incredibly erotic to watch play out and since I had an identical blue ski mask gave me an idea. 

It was an extreme gamble but I wondered if there was any way id be able to sneak in and have my way with this beautiful girl without her knowing. Since I was roughly the same height and build of her boyfriend it just might work I told myself and I began watching their encounters with an eye towards that opportunity. The last few times had proved to be a consistent routine with him actually leaving to go home directly after the sex and her laying there blindfolded still in bed for awhile before taking them off and going to sleep. 

The next night I decided to try my plan. I got my blue ski mask and waited for them to finish their routine. Just like previous days he left and after watching him pull out of the parking lot, I went back to the window and saw she was still laying there in a half sleep blindfolded. Everything hinged on her door not being locked so when I turned the knob and the door opened I was relieved yet petrified. There was no turning back now as I crept inside her home and made my way towards her bedroom with the ski mask on. When I got to the door I peered inside and saw her supple young body gleaming in the dim light just waiting to be taken. 

I took off my shirt and shorts and my erection sprang forth as I stepped inside the room. To this point she was still unaware of my presence until as I approached the bed a large creaking sound was heard from the floor. Still blindfolded she turned towards me and said, "still here I see" followed by a seductive sigh. I was frozen for a moment but soon translated this to be an invitation to push this further. I approached the bed and reached out to touch her breast to which she let out a small moan and arched her back up offering it too me. I lowered my head and took her nipple in my mouth instinctively. I was in heaven as I alternated between a deep engulf and light tongue exploration. I felt her hand rub the back of my head through the seemingly familiar ski mask. 

I reached down between her legs and felt the just soiled moistness below her bush. I wanted to eat and taste this beauty badly but thought better of it as her boyfriend's seed was still oozing from her. I hopped in between her legs and positioned my now throbbing member at her entrance. She let another soft moan as I pushed forward and my cock easily slid into her lubricated hole. I was in heaven and had to resist the need to explode my cum inside her immediately. I moved very slowly allowing her pussy to stretch around my cock before burying it to the hilt deep inside her. She let out a soft moan again and started pulling at my hips trying urge me to start humping. 

With her guidance I began sliding in and out of her moist but still tight pussy. I took one nipple in my mouth while pinching the other with my free hand wanting to absorb as much of this once in a lifetime opportunity as possible. She had incredibly strong pussy muscles that squeezed my cock tightly every time I slid forward. When I withdrew my cock I would feel her walls clenching down try to hold it in, the friction was incredible and I knew I wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. I tried slowing the pace but her guiding hands on my ass cheeks increased tempo conveyed her wish to be fucked fast and hard so I relented. 

I began pumping her at a frantic pace easily surpassing the tempo she had established. She moaned deeply this time and let out a vibrating utterance, which seemed to come from deep inside her. She pulled all the way inside her and held tightly as I felt a wave flow through her entire body. Her pussy squeezed my cock tightly and I felt a series of contractions pulsating throughout my entire length. The vibrating utterances became more intense and she bucked her hips forward trying to draw my cock deeper into her. 

A warm sensation flowed through my whole body as I felt my cum ready itself for delivery. A huge spasm whipped through my cock as my first spurt shot inside her. My cock exploded with a flurry of twitches as I felt her still contracting pussy sucking the cum right out of it. We lay there still engaged for a few minutes as the contractions faded to trembles and then nothing. I slowly slid out of her and made my way towards my clothes and the door. On my way out I could faintly hear her mumbling something about being totally exhausted and that she would see me tomorrow. 

I went home with knowledge I had just experienced one of the most erotic things I shall ever be a part of and went back to my normal existence. I never tried it again but still would masturbate and fantasize about the experience.



The Gambler



The Gambler

The style was called "Anguish." It was the latest fashion rage—dress your woman in haute-couture, bind her in some minor way, and then hurt her ...just a little ...just enough to draw out her beauty. It looked sophisticated when it was done properly, with a light touch. 

This definitely was not the case for the contract-girl across the aisle. Her look simply wasn't working. She was just a CELT of course, which allowed for a more daring presentation, but even so, one could only get away with so much skin, so much pain. In my opinion, the mark of a real sophisticate was subtlety. 

Not that this girl wasn't beautiful, quite the contrary, she was extraordinary—light brown skin, a face that could launch ships, shoulder-length chestnut hair, a long graceful neck; and tall, maybe five-ten, with an athlete's perfectly sculpted body, one that came with hard, consistent exercise. Someone had really worked this girl to get such a figure. 

It was difficult to nail down exactly what was wrong with her look though. Every part of her presentation was correct if slightly overdone; maybe that was it; maybe it was all just too much. 

Pleased with my sudden insight, I studied her more closely over the top of my computer. She was sitting back on her heels, wearing a white sundress. This was his first mistake—a sexy sundress wasn't appropriate for an airport waiting lounge. It just barely contained her full breasts and revealed more of her well-rounded ass than it hid. That dress would have worked fine in one of the island's beach bars, but not here, not in the semi-formal stiffness of the first-class lounge.

And those shoes! She had worn expensive fuck-me heels that had been removed and were now at her side. I imagined her long legs mounted on those platforms, yum. This was definitely a rich man's sex-toy...but why advertise it, I thought. Why, for instance, did he need to spread her knees? A demure knees-together position would have been much more effective—a modest counterpoint to her natural sexuality. 

I could see a black thong between her legs. It barely covered the mound between her legs. I did have to admit thought that this was sexy, especially the way it slipped into her crack, creating a pair of, well ...lips. I looked at her mouth then back to her cunt then back again to her mouth and smiled. Both set of lips were exceptionally round and full. Just right for warming somebody's cock at both ends, I thought rudely. 

Maybe someday I'll buy my own CELT. I wonder what that would be like to own someone? This was a just a dream of course—people like me didn't traffic in women; we didn't have anything to do with the CELT business. Not only that, I didn't have the personality for it. As much as I denied it, even to myself, I wasn't comfortable around girls. That's just the way it was, I thought sadly.

But I could still dream... I could feel myself getting hard as I studied her long, almost prehensile toes. People said that this was the problem with CELTs, they brought out the worst in men. 

Not that this aspect of contract-girls bothered many people anymore. Consensual bondage was practically an institution now and CELT contracts were common. Didn't I just read that 5% of the women in the U.S. under thirty were CELTs? Legalization made sense, I thought, with today's overpopulation. People needed a way out of their poverty. After a few years a CELT, which stood for Contracted Escort-Long Term, could earn enough money to make a new life for themselves and often for their entire family. This made sense to a lot of people, despite the moral issues.

Of course, only a tiny fraction of the world's billions, just the most beautiful, the healthiest, the smartest made it out this way. Natural selection, I thought. Maybe this was why there was so much prejudice against CELTSs? 

But still...even with a CELT good taste was important. Just sitting there, his girl was giving half the room a hard-on. That wasn't right. Most sensible people tried to avoid trouble by downplaying the sexual aspect of CELT ownership. This girl's attire and her bondage were much too risqué for the lounge—more appropriate for a private men's club or a bondage bar, I thought prissily.

Nowadays, it wasn't that unusual to see CELTs bound, even hard-bound in public. (Although it was still shocking to some, it was fairly common in Manhattan for example to see a girl being walked on a leash with her arms bound. It was chic, fashionable...) 

This girl's owner seemed to be trying for that look. He had tied her wrists and elbows together behind her back with narrow strips of soft white leather. Another strap had been wrapped twice around her neck, almost like a fashionable choker. The leather was so supple that the ends were simply tucked in, giving her that perfect no-knot look. I wondered if this leather tightened when it dried, like rawhide; that would be something to watch on this one, I thought evilly.

Despite the appropriateness of it all, I grudgingly acknowledged that she looked incredible in her bondage—every man's fantasy slave-girl. As I said, it was just...too much. Her sexy bindings were supposed to create an illusion, I thought. The "chocker" for example was making her pant like a dog and the elbow tie was pulling her shoulders back much too far. This wasn't pain for fashion's sake, it was torture.

Was I being too critical? The girl did look valuable—something you would see in a French fashion magazine. She also looked a little dangerous with that sleek, muscled body. Maybe the unusually harsh bondage and all that bare skin were intended to create an altogether different look—punishment for her haughtiness? Whatever, she was certainly stimulating a lot of fantasies.

Unconsciously, my mind started to drift. I imagined her with me in my shower. She was on her knees, wrists tied behind, looking up at me with frightened glances as I deep-fucked her soft mouth. Her luscious full lips gripped my cock hard and I could feel her throat muscles moving rhythmically, swallowing to take me more fully inside. In my dream, I reached down and pushed her away. She moaned in protest. 

I shifted in my seat and surreptitiously repositioned my cock. 

Back in the shower, the girl looked up at me confused, her mouth and tongue still moving, memory-fucking my cock. Fighting the urge to reinsert myself, I reached behind her and lifted her bound wrists. She scrambled to her feet, bending forward at the waist. I hooked a chain hanging down from the shower's ceiling to her wrists and then expertly tied her forearms together.

I ran my hands along her back and flanks as I moved to her rear.. She was up on her long toes, the ridges of her leg muscles sharply outlined. I watched her struggle. The oversized mound between her legs darkened as it filled with aroused blood.

I moved in from behind, pushing my cock lengthwise between her pussy lips. I didn't want to enter her just yet. By instinct she inched forward on her long toes until she was over my cock and then she pushed herself down. I heard her moan from the new pain in her arms. Cruelly, I laughed and started to pull out. Her cunt tightened. It was a delicious sensation, but I had another hole in mind this morning.

Squirting shampoo into her ass, I pointed my cock and pushed. She cried out, squirming. But the pressure was unrelenting and slowly I worked my way inside. In a few seconds she was fully impaled. Laughing again, I grabbed a leather paddle hanging nearby and paddled her wet flanks. Immediately, her squirming settled into a steady rocking motion—a gait. I enjoyed this for a time and then gave her a single sharp whack. She responded immediately, increasing her fucking speed to a slow trot. I waited a bit and then did it again and again. Each time she went a little faster. When she reached a full gallop, I exploded inside, triggering her orgasm. Quickly, I shifted my hands to her stomach to enjoy the contractions of her rock-hard abs.

Glancing around the lounge, I shook off the daydream. Even though no one had seen it, I was embarrassed. My cock was like a piece of wood and I thought about going to the men's room to jerk-off. No, I thought, someone might walk in on me, but there was no going back to my computer now. 

Instead, I resumed my furtive examination, focusing on the outline of her bullet-like nipples pushing through the dress. How did she get such large, hard points, I wondered? I didn't think they were artificial, she just looked too young and fresh. But was anyone really born with such perfect nipples? What would it be like to grind them a little between my teeth? ...stop it, not again!

This was all just too much, I thought. No wonder I'm sitting here getting off. This outrageous display was pushing me beyond my limits. I could tell from their shifting eyes that the others in the lounge, mostly vacationers and a few businessmen, had the same feelings.

In fact, the only person looking directly at the CELT was a plain-looking newlywed a few seats away, and her gaze was pure hate. Apparently, her new husband, a mousey man who was now studying his golfing magazine with way too much intensity, had been caught looking. I wondered what his married life was going to be like.

I shrunk down a little lower behind my laptop. Where did such a perverse dream come from? There should be limits, I thought, even for a fantasy. It wasn't exactly my fault, though. The man who owned this girl was the culprit! In another airport in another country, someone in authority would have already spoken to him about their decency rules and about public punishment of CELTs. But this was the Caribbean. Things were done differently around here. Most of the time officials acted only when someone complained. 

Maybe the plain girl will say something, I thought. Then again, why would she? She was probably enjoying the girl's suffering, which now appeared to be quite intense. Her neck strap was way too tight.

Yes, she was definitely in trouble. I glanced around. Maybe some bystander will intervene? Unlikely I thought the CELT's owner was an aggressive lout. This was obvious from the heated argument he was having at the counter with a petite, but determined ticket agent, something about a seat. Getting involved would probably result in an ugly confrontation and for what? Technically, the man wasn't doing anything wrong. She was just a CELT.

Not only that, this was a public place. If she was in real trouble, all she needed to do was to ask for help, just give us a sign. Someone would help her. But uninvited, no; people in crowds just didn't act that way. No one wanted to interfere, to look foolish. Certainly not me; I'd spent my entire life hanging back to avoid public mistakes.

This was really unusual though, I thought again. Despite her distress, she wasn't making a sound. Normally, a contract-girl would be whimpering like a puppy by now. One of the people nearby would then warn the man in the same way someone would tell him that something was leaking from his luggage. Not a criticism, just one traveler helping out another.

As I watched, I could see that she was actively resisting this. She just wasn't going to as for help. Strange...typically the last thing a CELT wanted was to attract negative attention especially from strangers. They prized their lucrative contracts and went to great lengths to avoid even the hint of a serious problem. Problems might lead to a formal complain, maybe even a legal action, maybe even contract nullification. This was extreme rare of course, but the threat was real. I was glad I had decided to stay out of it.

I'm a respectable banker for heaven's sake, I told myself, here on business. How would it look if I actually got mixed up in something like this? I hadn't even gone to the beach on this trip although I had secretly watched the woman and the hard-bound, half-naked CELTs from my balcony.

Maybe one day I could afford a discretely hidden-away contract-girl of my...

Our eyes met! She was staring at me. She was begging for my help, my personal help! I panicked and for a second I couldn't think. It was as if someone had touched me with a live wire. Maybe I should notify the desk? Then again, she wasn't really asking for help, not in the right way. She's supposed to whimper, whine; maybe cry a little. This would allow someone to report her distress in the right way. What could I possibly say, "Ah, excuse me, Sir; I'd like to talk to you about the way you're treating your CELT." I'd look ridiculous. CELTs don't just flash their eyes at someone and make him their champion. Not only that, it would embarrass and insult her owner, and no matter how big a jerk he was...

Anyway, the rules were different for her. It wasn't as if a normal person was in trouble. Legally, she wasn't much more than a pet. So what if she suffers a little. I broke eye contact and starred down at the keyboard. Maybe she will get someone else's attention if I ignore her. I really don't want to get involved in this. I started to work feverishly on my spreadsheet. I had no idea of what I was typing. I just didn't want to get involved.

I typed gibberish for almost a minute then I looked up. She was still watching me as she worked to suck air into her lungs, but no longer pleading with her eyes. Clearly, she had given up on me as her champion. I felt relief then, without warning, she started to swoon; I could see her struggling desperately to take in more air. After a few seconds, her color returned. There was perspiration on her upper lip. She looked at me defiantly with her nostrils flared. Then she turned away. 

This was totally ridiculous. What could I do? Let the bitch suffer! This fucking CELT had too much pride for her own good. She was bringing this trouble on herself. I could feel myself getting angry. How dare she drag me, a total stranger, into her problem?

No, it was definitely better to just stay out of this. I resumed my nonsense typing. In the back of my mind, however, I could hear a small voice repeating one word softly over and over—coward—and deep inside I knew it was true.

II.

The man returned from the counter and sat down on the lounge chair next to the girl. He was angry, shoving his ticket roughly into a paper folder. I could see from the color of the folder that he was in first class, same as me.

"Fucking airline," he muttered to no one in particular. I could tell that he was fuming. Then he looked at the girl and a smile seemed to cross his face. Without a word, he sat forward on the edge of his chair and moved his leg to hide the girl's body. Reaching into his jacket pocked, he extracted two round metal objects that looked like thick metal washers. Careful not to let him see me looking, I studied them; they had sharp triangular points on the inside rim and push-tabs on the outer edges. Discretely, he pulled down the girl's dress, squeezed the tabs, and pushed one over her bare nipple. 

I was horrified. Her entire body stiffened and her bare feet curled into claws. The first shock of pain lasted only a few seconds, but to me it seemed to go on forever. Amazingly, she still didn't make a sound. Then he did the same to the other nipple with much the same effect.

Numb, I thought about what I had seen. Those "washers" were actually circular nipple clamps, bondage toys. The pain must be excruciating.

The man settled back in his chair, pleased with himself. It was as if the girl's pain had absorbed his anger. He seemed unconcerned that his vicious act of pique would be noticed by anyone. 

I watched her out of the corner of my eye, still pretending to be focused on my spreadsheet. Sheens of sweat now covered her body and two trails of wet ran down the side of each tightly closed eye. Appalled and still feeling ashamed, I hid my face behind my screen.

"Hey Pal," he called to me casually across the aisle. "Would you mind watching my stuff while I go to the John?" He pointed with his thumb to his bags and the girl.

I looked up, trying to look innocent. "Sure, sure no problem," I said much too quickly.

"Thanks," he said smiling. "Want me to grab you a cup of coffee on my way back?"

"No thank you," I said with the barest hint of a judgmental tone. He looked me over as he stood up. Then, with a bit of irritation, "don't let anyone touch the girl, OK?" His meaning was clear. ...and keep your fucking hands off her as well. Then he seemed to think for a moment and turned back to her to remove her neck strap.

Glancing down to my lap as he passed, he smiled and gave a friendly knowing nod. Embarrassed, I realized that the computer had slipped down and the bulge in my pants was showing. I readjusted the computer and once again starred at the keyboard as if searching for a missing letter. 

I should have said something to him, I thought, as he walked away, but who was I to criticize this stranger? She was his legal property. It might not be very polite or appropriate to hurt her in an airport lounge, but he certainly had the right... nothing to get very upset about. Was I trying to provoke a confrontation? Again I had the sickening thought of trying to explain my involvement to the people at work.

When I finally looked up, the girl was staring at me again. The two wet streams drying on her face. "Don't let him rattle you," she said softly. "That's what he does for a living—shakes people up enough so that they make mistakes. I'm sorry I bothered you before. Please don't tell him." She seemed frightened; apparently he was capable of a lot worse.

"No problem," I said, trying to sound casual. "Do they hurt?" Idiot! I thought immediately. "Do they hurt?" What a stupid question.

She nodded. "He uses them a lot..." she paused as another wave of pain passed over her face. This explains the shape of the girl's nipples, I thought insensitively. Frequent use of the clamps had trained them into hard-points.

I was totally unnerved and before I could stop myself, another stupid question had passed through my lips. "Why are you with him?" I was appalled; it was a totally absurd and inappropriate thing to ask. Her face froze and she was silent. Why was I being so incredibly dumb? In the back of my mind I realized that I was trying to defend myself in her eyes. This was stupid, I thought. She's just a CELT; who cares what she thinks? 

She remained silent and despite my rationalization, I felt terrible. One didn't apologize to a CELT, but maybe in this case... Fortunately, she raised her eyes and started to speak very softly before I could put my foot back into my mouth.

"I didn't contract directly with him, Sir. My obligation was transferred." Then she looked up defensively, "My family needed the extra money; my brother was sick."

I was surprised; not at her sob story, everyone had one of those, but that she had a "transferable" contract. Almost all CELT contracts were non-transferable. A transferable contract meant that you might end up with a very nasty stranger, like this one. Three years of legal bondage, the typical contract period, could feel like thirty in the wrong hands. Not only that, but transferable contracts were much more difficult to reverse. The courts had ruled a number of times that the consenting adults signing such contracts generally accepted greater risks, and that bad treatment by itself did not constitute grounds for reversal. (I had been interested in this subject and studied the Consensual Bondage Laws of the 2120's quite extensively while in business school.)

Still acting the idiot and probably still trying to salvage my pride, I pursed my lips and shook my head. Then, with a critical air, my eyes shifted to the outline of the nipple clamps visible through her dress. The meaning was clear—this is what happens to silly girls who engage in such foolish behavior.

She looked at me for a moment and then bent her head in silence. We had both said too much. In a few moments, the man returned.




The Gambler



After a time, the first boarding call was announced. The man reached over, and removed her bindings. He left the nipple clamps on under her dress and she made no attempt to touch them. She was well trained, I thought. "Let's go," he said. Painfully, she got to her feet and slipped on her sexy heels. Her legs were as magnificent as I had imagined. Then bending down as modestly as she could, she picked up a leather bag and followed him to the ramp, never looking in my direction. 

I was the last person in the lounge to board the plane—too embarrassed and ashamed of myself to take the chance of accidentally bumping into either of them again.

III.

Shit! What miserable fucking luck—the man was in the seat next to mine. I checked my ticket again, 6E (fuck). I tried to slip into my seat without being noticed.

"How you doing, partner?" he said in a friendly way. The girl was on the floor at his feet. She was hugging her legs, her wrists tied to her ankles. 

"Sorry 'bout this, he said, pointing at her with his thumb. "I tried to buy her a seat, but the plane is full. He glanced around the full first-class cabin to illustrate the point. We'll be a little tight, but I'll keep her on my side."

"No problem," I replied. "There's plenty of room in these seats. I'll probably just work. You can let her move around a little if you want."

He smiled, "Thanks, Later." Then he went back to his magazine.

In a few minutes, the stewardess walked by and stopped at our row. "Can I get either of you something to drink," she asked.

"Nothing for me," I said.

"I'll have some Champaign, little lady," the man said.

"Certainly," she said. Then she noticed the CELT. "I'm sorry, Sir. She's going to need to be checked. We have some very nice cages in the hold specifically designed for contract-girls. I can gate-check her right here for you." She started to reach into her apron pocket for a check slip.

"Hold on, little lady," he answered. "This here's a pretty valuable piece of property. I'd rather just keep her with me."

"Sir," now she was annoyed. "It's regulations. You can't keep anything in the aisle. Everything, including this... this woman must fit in the overhead or go under your seat. Otherwise it's got to be checked. This one is much too tall to go under the seat." (Airlines now allowed their first-class passengers to transport their CELTs in first class, but this accommodation was really only for petite young girls. Some men liked their CELTs small and tight, believing they were easier to handle and that the sex was better.)

"She'll fit," he said, showing his own annoyance now. "Maybe you can get me one of those CELT-belts."

"I'll get you a belt, Sir, but if she doesn't fit fully under the seat, I'll need to insist that she be checked." She wanted to get the last word. In a few seconds, she returned with a long, wide belt and handed it to him along with his drink. No words were exchanged.

"Frigid bitch," he mumbled. "Would you mind holding this, Partner?" He handed me his drink then he positioned the girl between his legs and wrapped the belt around her legs and back and pulled hard. The air went out of her lungs. Then he tightened the belt a little more and buckled it. I could see it digging into her skin. 

He reached into his seatback pocket, breathing a little heavily from the exertion. "This bitch is one fucking pain in the ass," he said as he unfolded a leather hood and placed it over her head, tightening its built-in collar around her neck. Then he laid the girl down on her knees and pushed her head-first under the seat in front with his feet. Her short dress rode up her back, but he didn't bother to pull it down.

"Nice, huh?" he said, pointing at her ass with his toe.

"Can she breathe in that thing," I asked, forcing myself to speak casually.

"No, she's just gonna have to hold her breath for a while," he said laughing. Then he fluffed up his pillow and turned away.

I watched her long toes curl and uncurl as she settled into her confinement. It was clear that she could breathe through the hood's stitching, but it wouldn't be pleasant or easy. It must also be getting really hot in there, I thought. After a while, I looked away and sat back in my seat for the takeoff. This was none of my business, I thought again. Stay out of it. She's just a CELT ...a CELT with a transferable contract. That basically makes her a prostitute, a whore.

The stewardess stopped by once to check. It was obvious from her frown that the girl wasn't really fully out of the aisle, but the woman chose to ignore the infraction rather than start another argument. I smiled at her for this small mercy.

The plane took off without further incident.

I spent the next hour staring at the girl's feet, wondering what it was like for her. The planes' interior had been darkened and most of the passengers were sleeping when the man finally stirred. Stretching, he turned on his overhead light, unfastened his seatbelt, and pulled the girl out. After pausing for breath, he sat her upright on the floor and removed her hood. Her face and hair were covered with sweat. Carelessly, he wiped her off with a couple of drink napkins and then set her back against the side of the plane still bound hand-to-foot.

"'Scuze me, Partner," he said. "...need to visit the boy's room." I smiled and politely moved my legs aside to let him pass.

When he was gone, I looked over at the girl. She was still trying to recover from the hood.

"He's a character," I said, trying to be casually friendly.

She looked at me and smiled politely, but said nothing. 

"He seems to know all the tricks." I persisted, not willing to be put off. She was silent. "He seems to know all the tricks, right?" I repeated, annoyed.

"He's a sadistic pig," she answered. It was obvious that this had just slipped out. Immediately she looked up, shocked at her loss of control. 

For a moment neither of us said anything. Then she started talking fast, much too fast. "Not that he's done anything wrong, Sir. Our contract, of course, gives him the right to treat me just about any way he wants. He's maybe a little too harsh. We just need more time to get used to each other."

She thought for a moment and then restarted her rapid-fire monologue. "Please Sir, please, if you have one ounce of mercy in you, please don't tell him what I said." It was obvious that she was afraid, but it also appeared that beneath the surface, she resented the need to beg for my help. 

I thought about this for a minute. Truthfully, the responsible thing to do was to tell the man everything. If, God forbid, something bad happened in the future and it was discovered that I could have prevented it by warning him, I could be sued. An angry CELT is not a good thing to have sleeping in your bed or even at the foot of it.

Still, was that necessary? It would get me further entangled with these two. Shit, why couldn't I have just kept my mouth shut? I thought for a moment and then I had what seemed to be a good idea. "Maybe you should speak to him. Your contract gives you the right to protest, to contact your attorney. Why don't you try that?" I suggested. My tone was reasonable. 

She looked at me as if I were an idiot. "Why should he talk to me? My contract has only a year to run. He knows I can't end it now. It would mean the loss of all further compensation," then her eyes filled, "and that would mean the end of my family, the death of my brother." She was getting worked up again, emotional; exactly what I was trying to avoid. 

"Yes, I guess that is a problem." I said dismissively.

I didn't have an answer for her and, more importantly, I didn't want to get into a heavy discussion with a CELT whore. She was nothing to me. Why was I even bothering to talk to her; it was stupid. She had created her own problem; complaining about it afterward made her what, a cheat? I stopped talking.

She glared at me and suddenly I was glad she was tied. In a low voice, she started talking again. "Yes, it's a problem..." She wasn't hiding her anger now, and most of it was directed at me. How did I get into this mess!

"Let me tell you what he did to me last night." She was whispering, but every word was sharp. "He made me strip down to a thong that he likes, tied my arms behind, and locked my ankles together with a short hobble-chain. He likes to watch me run." Her voice dropped even lower. "Then he put his Piranhas on me. That's what they're called, Piranhas. I know you saw them tonight. It's like being eaten alive."

She paused for a second to regain some composure. "He attached a Y-leash and walked me around the hotel, stopping at every party to check out the action. Can you imagine what its like to be displayed naked on a leash... with women watching! At one party, he put me on my knees then he tied the leash to a coat rack and hooked the hobble-chain to my wrists. I had to balance myself with my nipples. Everyone thought it was hilarious."

"Maybe you should try that with your cock, Computer-Boy, before you criticize me. They make Piranhas for men, you know." She stopped and started to cry. They were silent tough-guy tears, but the way she wiped them off on her knees reminded me of a little girl.

"Look, I'm sorry," I said in a whisper. I was doing what all men do when faced with tears—lie. "I didn't mean to put you down before; it's just that this is none of my business. It's also not right for you to talk that way about your contract owner. As you said, he can do whatever he wants with you. In fact, if I don't tell him about this conversation and something happens, I could be sued."

She wiped off her tears and looked at me with absolute loathing. "Go ahead, tell him," she spit it out. "Maybe he'll punish me right here and the two of you can get off. A cowboy-sadist and a Wall Street-coward, you two could be great friends." She starred at me defiantly. We both jumped when the man appeared in the aisle.

He was carrying a glass of ice and four small bottles of vodka. "I raided the liquor closet," he said jovially, ignoring the tension that was hanging between us. "She's a good looker, no? He glanced at me as he moved sideways back into his chair.

"Yes," I said red-faced, "very nice." I started to reach for my computer, trying to avoid any more conversation. This flight was turning into a nightmare. 

But now the man was fully awake and talkative. "Won her a few weeks ago in a card game," he said in a conspiratorial whisper as he poured his first drink. "Fella was drawing to an inside straight. He was so happy to make it that he thought he owned the pot and bet the farm, including her. Bad way to play! I had a full house from the get-go. He never knew what hit him. ...been fucking her every night," he added. "...amazing muscles, good moves ...I just needed to teach her some manners. Now she's okay. Amazing things they got these days to keep these CELT bitches in line."

I thought about the Piranhas.

"Yup... I got an electric whip in my bag that I used on her a couple of time. It hurts like Hell, but it don't make any marks. ...copper's woven right into the leather braid. You don't need to kill yourself, even a light stoke gets her full attention." Glancing over to be sure I was listening, he continued, "Best thing is to put them up by their wrists and get them on their toes. Then put a good gag on 'em and you're in for some real fun. Jesse here is strong and defiant. She'll kick for half-an-hour—maybe 20 strokes with the electric whip." He paused and took a sip of his drink. "Can't go too fast with the power turned up, you know; they'll pass out on you...got to give 'em time to rest."

He lowered his voice and moved a little closer. "You also want her conscious when you're finished. That's the best time to fuck 'em you know...right after, when their brain's still sparkin'. Give you a real ride." He laughed and, not knowing what else to do, I smiled and nodded my head in agreement. 

The girl looked up at me. I knew what she was thinking. This made me a little angry. No one, not even me, likes to be called a coward, especially by a stranger...a CELT. This bitch was purposely antagonizing me and I impusively, I asked him, "What do you do when she complains about you...to other people?" The girl's face turned white. Not shooting off your mouth now are you, bitch? I thought.

He glanced at Jesse then said, "Naw...Jesse wouldn't do that. She knows that I won't put up with that kind of foolishness. If she did that to me, I'd whip her hard for days. I know exactly how much she can take; I could easily keep her screaming for a week.


He looked at me hard. "She didn't bother you with any tall tales while I was in the John, did she Partner?" he asked. I knew that he was watching to see if I glanced at the girl. 

"No. No, she didn't say anything to me," I lied. "I was just wondering." I never blinked or took my eyes off his.

"That's good, real good," he said slowly. His jovial mood returned and he paused to sip his drink. Then he looked over at her again, "Got to keep that whip oiled up, right Jess. Don't want the leather to stiffen up." Then he turned back to me, "The best thing for a whip is the oil from a girl's skin. I know you think I'm shittin' you, but it's true. Just keep turnin' the whip to make sure it covers every part." 

"Probably sell her contract when I get back," he continued. "She's too much trouble, too much baggage for my line of work... There are plenty of girls around to rent. No need to carry my own around with me. Am I right?"

"What line of work is that," I asked, ignoring his question and trying desperately to now sound friendly. (I was thinking about the pain my vicious little remark might cause her.)

"Well, I'm pretty much retired now, but I do some gambling from time to time. Keeps life interesting, you know. You ever play?" It sounded like a question he had asked many times before. 

"No, not really," I said. "Well, sometimes, just for fun."

"Tell you what," he leaned over, there was vodka on his breath. "How would you like to play for this here girl? I 'seen you eying her. She'd make a great bed-warmer. And like I said, she's strong and tough...takes a lot of pain." 

I looked at him, knowing that he was joking, putting me on. "What's she worth," I asked, playing along.

"'bout a hundred grand now, still got another year or so to run on her contract." He was bragging, showing off.

I nodded my head, smiling, still going along with the joke. Then my mouth opened and I heard myself saying, "OK, I'll bet you a hundred thousand dollars, against her contract. One cut of the cards." 

I couldn't believe my ears. What was I doing! In a panic, I realized that a quick laugh would make the statement sound like a joke. I needed to laugh! Laugh, you fool! 

But something held me back. It was the only truly brave thing I had ever done.

The girl looked at me, openly curious. The man's eye's narrowed and he put his face close to mine. "I was just kidding, Partner." then he leaned back in his seat and was quiet for a few seconds, sipping his drink. 

Slowly, he turned to me and asked, "You got a hundred thousand dollars, Kid?"

"Yes." I said simply, holding his gaze. Actually, I had $108,000—my life's savings. WHAT WAS I DOING!

The man looked at me for a long moment. I held my breath, maybe he would laugh the whole thing off. Then he glanced at the girl. Guilt was written all over her face. He knew immediately that we had done more than talk; he also knew that most of that talk had been about him. I could see him turn a little red in anger.

He nodded and looked back at me. Then he smiled. The girl was going to be whipped exactly as he had described. A personal insult was an important thing for him. She realized it at the same time and trembled. She knew difference between casual pain and real punishment.

But now he wanted something from me as well. I had apparently violated some unwritten gambler's code.

"OK, Pal. You come up with the dough and it's a bet." His tone was no longer friendly, it was distinctly hostile.

I hid my fear. Maybe I could just laugh now, roll over and go to sleep. Who cares what this creep thinks or says? So he punishes her...so what. The truth is that she deserves it. Well, maybe she doesn't deserve being whipped for a week; and maybe I was partially responsible for egging her on, but so what? ...just a CELT, remember!

Every logical part of my brain desperately wanted me to laugh it off and forget it, forget about her. But I just couldn't do it. Without thinking, I reached into my wallet and retrieved my debit card. I swiped it through the seatback reader with a shaking hand. Using a few keystrokes on the seat's built-in computer, I moved a hundred thousand dollars into an escrow account and assigned it a password, writing it secretly on a paper napkin. He watched all this with a smirk on his face.

"You sure seem to know what you're doing with that banking stuff," he said. Then he stood up and pulled his large leather bag out of the overhead locker. Unzipping an outside pocket, he found the girl's contract. I could see that it already had several transfer endorsements on the back.

"She sure is going to look good at your feet if you win," he said. "I'm also gonna throw in everything in this bag. You'll need this stuff to keep her in line." I could tell that I was being worked now. He smelled my money. I was now his pigeon or whatever gamblers call their prey.

"Thanks," I said quietly, glancing at the girl. This is lunacy, I thought. I was about to lose my life's savings for an exotic pet, a whore. 

"Well, OK!" he said emphatically, ringing the call button. In a few seconds the same stewardess appeared. "Ma'am, would you mind getting my friend and me a pack of your best playin' cards?" She nodded stiffly and went for the cards. We waited in silence.

When the cards arrived, he shuffled them on the divider between our seats. His hands moved like a magician's. I was glad this was a simple cut of the deck.

"You know what," he said, placing the deck between us. "Let's bring Jesse into this." Reaching into his bag, he pulled out the Piranhas. Then he retrieved a large ball gag that he had stuffed in the seatback. Moving the girl between his legs, he pushed the gag into her mouth and tightened it behind her neck. Then he quickly pulled down her dress and placed the Piranhas on her nipples. Reaching back into the bag, he found a high leather collar. I knew this was for discipline. 

"What are you doing?" I asked. 

"You can let her out when you win," he said, positioning the collar on her neck.

"And if I lose?" I asked. 

"Then you can watch her for the next three hours," he replied. He had buckled the collar so tightly that her face had turned red. She wasn't getting enough air. 

"Look, there's no reason for this," I said, starting to panic. The girl was barely able to breathe. A blunt point at the top of the collar kept her head high so that she was staring directly at me. I was reminded of the scene at the airport. 

He was having sadistic fun with both of us and enjoying himself. He was also continuing to work me, ensuring that I had yet another reason to continue with the bet. 

"OK, I'll tell you what, partner," he said reasonably. "Once our bet is finished, I'll let her out." I knew it was a lie. Once he won, we would both be at his mercy. Jesse would stay in the collar until she passed out, then he would devise some other torture for her. He wanted us to suffer and he knew that punishing her was painful to me as well. The girl looked over at me with her mouth open, breathing hard. She was now working hard to survive."

I smiled at her reassuringly, but I felt sick.

"Come on, Kid," he urged. "Don't lose your balls now. This one's tough. She can take it, can you? Worry about yourself. It's your money."




The Gambler



What a vicious bastard, I thought. I can't let him whip her for a week because of something I did. 

"OK," I said, defiantly. "Let's get this over with."

He smiled again and turned to the girl. "You got yourself a real champion here, Jess. Man's willing to put up a hundred thousand dollars to keep your pretty ass from a little punishment."

He was absolutely gleeful. "My name's Max, by the way, Max Springer," he said as he held out his hand. "...and this here is Jesse. I don't like to gamble with strangers."

"I'm Howard Lowe," I said, returning his handshake with a limp wrist. My face was ashen and despite my earlier resolve, I was afraid. 

"Howard," he repeated, turning the name around scornfully in his mouth. Now, he was really enjoying himself. Then he pulled the Piranhas out of his pocket and held them up for both of us to see. "These little babies are amazing," he said, pushing on the side tabs and demonstrating the pinching movement of the inside points. "And the name really fits. They can really bite." 

He slipped Jesse's dress down to her waist. She sat on the floor half naked, bound, and gagged. We both looked down at her from our plush seats. She starred back at us unashamed. Grabbing one of her breasts, Max held it tight as he pushed the Piranha over her nipple and slowly released the tabs. Jesse closed her eyes and absorbed the pain. I could see that it was a lot worse now since her nipples were already sore. Max would have known that.

He watched her anguished face for a moment and then did the same to her other breast. Pulling her dress back up, he muttered, "We'll leave that up. Don't want upset that stewardess, now do we?"

He whispered to the girl loudly enough for me to hear, "You'll be okay, Jesse. Just keep thinking about how much worse it will be when we get home. She held my eyes. I could see fear; this was no idle threat. The man really was a sadistic pig, just as she had said.

"I hate to see her cry," he said then he smiled.

That was when I lost my nerve. "Let me ask you a question," I said with a shaky voice. "Suppose I just buy out her contract. You said you were thinking about selling it anyway, this way we both end up with what we want." This wasn't true at all, I thought. All I wanted was my hundred thousand dollars safely back in my account and to be free of this mess.

He looked at me like the street fighter that he really was. "That might have been OK before, kid, but then you and Jess here went and made this personal. Personal is no good. This girl is my property. You fucked with her head without my permission. Now she's goin' have to pay for her mistake and yours too."

His arrogance put some steel in my back. I looked him in the eyes and even managed to exhibit a bit of bravado, "Well then, all that's left to do is cut the cards." It was all show; I was scared and I knew he was going to win. 

Placing the cards down, he gestured with his hand for me to take my cut. I managed to nod in his direction—you first. 

Smiling, he reached down and cut the deck—a Jack. He just smiled, leaned down, and showed the girl the card. Her eyes rolled and I thought she had fainted, but then her eyes opened and she looked at me. It was the look of someone condemned; I had sent her to Hell. "I'll charge up the whip's batteries as soon as we get home, Jess, so you can start your week right." He was enjoying every moment of this.

Then he looked over at me, "Your card, How-word."

I ignored his jibe, but my hand was shaking so badly that I had trouble cutting the deck. I didn't even look at the card I'd drawn, just faced it towards him. He looked down from my eyes to the cards, smiled broadly, and leaned back in his chair happy. I had lost! 

I was devastated. Three year's savings gone in a second and a week of vindictive torture for a girl who had just asked me for a little help. Surprisingly, the money didn't seem all that important anymore as I thought about Jesse's beautiful body writhing at the end of this asshole's whip.

Oh man, what had I done? I felt sick.

Numb, I checked the card in my hand to see how close I had come. It was the queen of hearts. The queen of... THE QUEEN!

Max looked at me unfazed. "Looks like you won, Kid. Congratulations." He picked up the contract, wrote in my name as owner and signed it. Then he put it back in the bag and gestured for us to change seats. Once he was settled, he casually rolled over and went back to sleep. Gamblers don't linger at a losing table.

I was dumbfounded and sat there for some time enjoying the relief that coursed through my body. Then I remembered the girl and moved to her aid. I swore to myself that she would never suffer in my hands.

Reaching down, I removed her gag and then as gently as I could I took off the Piranhas and put them back in the bag. I tried not to touch her breasts, but of course that was unavoidable. She was crying softly. I wiped her face and untied her hands and ankles. Still crying a little she moved in between my feet and rested her head on my lap. I could feel her arm inching forward to find a secure place between legs. I pushed the hair out of her face and then got instantly hard when I saw her mouth so near my cock. She probably noticed, but I didn't care. We had won! 

When we started to descend, she turned around and positioned herself for the belt. I put it back on and gently moved her halfway under the seat. Of course, I didn't use the hood. 

Max, who had slept for most of the trip, finally woke up as we were landing and watched us with his now-famous smirk. When the plane arrived at the gate, he stood up and gave me a quick goodbye handshake. "You are the man, Howard," was all he said. Then he was gone. 

At the time, I thought it was just a Max-like dumb thing to say. Later, I would regard those four words as precious wisdom ...most precious wisdom. 

IV.

"May I change my clothes, Master?" she asked.

We were standing outside the arrival gate at JFK. With the sundress exposing her bare shoulders and long legs, she was getting lecherous stares from the male passersby. I was embarrassed. "Look, ah...Jesse, please don't call me that; my name is Howard. And you don't need my permission to change your clothes. That life is over for you. I'm a decent person, I don't treat women badly."

She looked at me with a strange expression. "Thank you, Ma... Thanks, Howard. There are some jeans and a top in this bag. Maybe I could wear them?" 

"That would be fine," I said. She just stood there holding the bag. I was confused. "Go ahead," I urged.

She glanced at my shyly and said, "I'm not permitted to open it." It was ridiculous, but I guess once you've been whipped for something, you learn.

"Look, I said, you don't..." then I stopped, frustrated. This wasn't the place to have this conversation. 

Bending down, I opened the bag and handed her a pair of jeans and a top. She walked off to the ladies room. In a few minutes she was back. I held my breath. She looked like a New York fashion model, totally unapproachable. I could see that people were still staring at us... at her. She was movie-star gorgeous.

Quickly, I steered us to a cab line and we jumped in. "Twenty-Eight East 79th Street," I said to the driver, then added a "please." He nodded and drove off. We sat in total silence for the entire trip, both of us overwhelmed by the events of the last few hours. 

I live in a Manhattan townhouse. When we arrived, I saw that she was surprised. She had expected an apartment. I turned on some lights and directed her to the library and a wooden chair in front of my desk. I took the seat behind the desk.

"Let me explain a few things to you, Jesse. I was trying to be very businesslike. I'm not rich. This is my Grandfather's house; it's owned by a family trust. I have the right to use it, but not to sell or rent it. I also have a small trust that pays me a little allowance each month. That's all my Grandfather left me. In other word, I'm not rich." I paused and let her absorb what I'd just said. "Do you understand?" I didn't want her to think I was...a mark.

She nodded. 

"I live here alone, by choice," I continued. Actually, the choice part wasn't really true. "I don't socialize much... too busy at work." ...this was getting too personal. "I just don't have that many relationships," I said, stupidly ending my clumsy explanation of why a 25 –year-old, townhouse-owning, reasonably good looking, tall, eligible man was living alone in Manhattan.

She nodded again, while she looked around the room and then asked the obvious question, "Are you gay?"

"No," I replied, a little hurt for some reason. I hurried on. "You can stay here while we take care of the legal work. There are plenty of extra bedrooms. Tomorrow, I'll call my lawyer and get him started on your emancipation."

"Emancipation?" she asked.

"Yes, emancipation. There's no way that I can hold on to your contract. I work in a bank, a vice president. It wouldn't look right. Not that I wouldn't want to be...associated with you, any man would, you're beautiful. It's just that in my position, with my family...it would just be, well inappropriate. Even though what happened tonight was all innocent, it would be just too hard to explain. Don't worry; I'll make sure that you get paid the full amount agreed to in the contract."

She was quiet for a moment. 

"I'm sorry about what I said before in the plane, Master ...ah, Howard," she was looking down. "The pain was getting to me. Thank you for your help in working things out with Mr. Springer. I know it's inappropriate to say such things, but he was an animal. It was a brave and generous thing to do."

We both knew that this little speech was bullshit—for the most part, I had let her down time after time—but it was easier for us to accept the picture the way she had just painted it. If I had just left it there, things would have worked out much differently, instead my mouth began again. 

"I'm not sure how long the legal work will take, but if you're okay with it, we can just pretend that you're my live-in girlfriend for a few days. This way, when you leave, I can just say we broke up. As I said, I haven't had much time for girls, but people will accept this explanation. The last thing I want is for anyone to know that I owned a CELT contract. Even though I didn't do anything wrong, I don't want to have to explain this, ever." I paused again.

"Or, if you'd rather stay at a hotel, I can make a few calls and we can move you in tomorrow. You won't need to worry about the expenses; I'll pay for everything."

"In either case, I'll treat you with the utmost respect and, of course, there won't be any physical abuse. I find that reprehensible. Hopefully, Max is the last man who will ever... Anyway, for all practical purpose, we can consider your CELT contract ended right now. You are my guest."

I smiled in what must have looked like a self-righteous way and sat back in the chair. She looked at me with a strange expression and in a matter-of-fact tone said, "Won't we need to fuck, Howard, if we're going to be boyfriend and girlfriend?" Was there a hint of sarcasm in her voice?

Her directness surprised me, and I needed a moment to recover. Don't forget, I told myself, she's little more than a street whore even though she looks like a model. 

"No, we don't need to do that, Jesse," I said slowly, thinking that she may be relating to this kind of decent treatment after what she'd been through. I also had the idea that she might not be that bright. "We're only going to act like lovers, but in truth we'll just be employer and employee. You're an escort, remember? Someone people hire because they don't want to go places alone." We both knew that that was also bullshit; CELT escorts were sex-partners, mistresses.

"Do you understand what I've told you?" It was almost the tone one would use with a child. Maybe she was stupid?

"Yes I understand, Howard," she began with equal patience. "It's just that people always seem to know when a couple is fucking... someone might suspect something. Maybe you should think about it; fucking me might actually be the safest thing, reputation-wise." She was copying my parent-child tone; she also sounded a little angry. Why?

"And when you say, 'no physical abuse' though," she continued, "you mean, unless I deserve it, right? It wouldn't make sense for you to allow me to go without any discipline. Didn't you and Max agree that the best way to handle one of us was to, and I quote, "put them up by their wrists and get them on their toes....shove in a good gag and you're in for some real fun. This one...will kick and jerk for half-an-hour..." You seemed to be listening very hard. Oh, and I almost forgot his most important suggestion, 'fuck her while her brain is still sparking.' Isn't that what you and he agreed?" She was definitely angry now. This was not going at all the way I expected.

"Look Jesse, I don't think you understand..." I started again.

"...and by the way, Howard," she interrupted; "I fast-tracked my way through high-school and college, graduating from NYU at 20 with a bachelor's degree in psychology. So, don't keep asking me if I understanding you. I said my family was in trouble, I didn't say that I'd been poor and dumb all my life." 

"Let's be honest with each other," she continued, clearly angry now. "You didn't have the nerve to help me when I needed you, but now I'm supposed to believe that you're going to do the right thing for the sake of your reputation ...your family; you're going to throw away a hundred thousand bucks."

"And what makes you think I want to be emancipated?" she asked. "Don't you think the next man who buys my contract is going to wonder why I was set free early? Are you going to give him an affidavit attesting to your good will? CELTs are worth a lot, people don't just give them away without a good reason."

"You didn't act out of honor or sympathy, Howard; you were distracted by that bulge in your pants and acted impulsively. It's that simple. Once you had backed yourself into a corner, you just followed the path of least resistance. It was all an accident that worked out okay for you. Once you have had some time to think it over, you'll come to your senses about me." She was calming down.

"It's not that I don't appreciate what you did, Howard. Some of it truly was brave and Max really was a pig." She paused and looked at me.

"Take my advice," she leaned forward as if to emphasize her next words. "Tie me up and hurt me a little over the next few days...just so you can see what its like. I'm sure you'll like it. If you want, you can fuck me as well or I can suck your cock. Then, when you've had your fill, sell my contract. That's what most men in your position would do. Believe me, I know. You won yourself a contract-girl worth a hundred thousand dollars tonight, Howard, enjoy her. As for the contract itself, I agree that it would be impossible for you to hold on to it, someone of your standing, but don't give it away."

She leaned back and smiled at me with a now-doesn't-this-make-sense expression.

I was hurt. I guess I had started to think of "us" as a team. She was right to set things straight. I would never hurt her, of course, and there was no way that I would force her to do anything sexual, but she was right about the money. Holy shit, in the last few hours I had doubled my net worth. Tripled it really if you adjusted for the taxes I didn't need to pay. (I knew that Max wasn't going to claim any of this on his taxes.)

I was also extremely tired. "I'm not exactly sure why I did any of the things I did tonight, Jesse, but I'm not the kind of man who would take advantage of such a situation." Let me take you to your room," I said this last with finality. "We'll straighten all of this out tomorrow."

I left the house the next morning early, before she was awake. I wrote her a brief note saying that she should make herself at home and that if she wanted, we could go to dinner that evening and talk. I also left her some cash to do some shopping. (She didn't seem to have many clothes.)

I put the evening's discussion to the back of my mind. She had been tired and stressed. I should have waited to talk to her. She seemed like a decent person in a bad situation. We would get it all worked out tonight. In the meantime, I'd get things started by talking to my lawyer about her contract. Once she really understood the kind of person I was, it would be easier for us to talk.

The office was in chaos over something or other and I was in meetings for the entire day. It was a blessing in a way to be distracted from the "Jesse problem." Unfortunately, I didn't get a chance to calling my lawyer. 

V.

That evening when I got home, she met me at the door dressed in black pants and a white silk top. The pants hugged her behind, highlighting her long legs. The outfit included a short jacket that made her small waist look tiny. She was a classy dream... a Park Avenue debutant... no one would ever guess that she was a CELT.

"Is this okay, Howard?" she asked innocently.

"It's perfect," I replied enthusiastically. My relief was enormous. I wanted to kiss her and more, but held back. We hardly knew each other.

She waited and then leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "Thank you, again," she said. Then she began to describe her day as we walked to my bedroom. She was effervescent, bubbling over with enthusiasm, talking lightly all the way to my door where she waited modestly while I got dressed. 

Being in New York City with time and money was an exciting experience, especially for a stunningly beautiful young girl. I knew that she would have been propositioned at least half-a-dozen times. In fact, a part of me thought that she might be gone when I got home, contract or not. 

For the next hour we talked continuously without saying anything important. I forgot that she was a professional escort and despite my clumsiness around women, I felt a real rapport growing between us. She made everything easy and fun and there was no mention of yesterday's events or the prior evening's discussion. It was as if we were old friends.

Dinner was even better. We talked about everything and nothing; it was a real date. It turned out that she was 22, three years younger than me. Her family was from California with Russian roots. She had originally come to New York to get the East Coast educational experience. It was fun to talk about the stuff we'd done in college, and to exchange opinions on just about everything. She was incredibly sharp and smart, much smarter than I had imagined. For the first time in a long time, I was having fun.

Later, over coffee we discussed her "situation." She was open and unembarrassed. After college, she had been looking for a job when her father had been accused of embezzlement. Between the legal fees and fines, the family, which had been reasonably well off, lost almost everything. He went to prison for eight years. Two month's later her brother was diagnosed with cancer. The treatments needed to keep him alive were costly. She tried everything, but the only way she could get enough money for him was to become a CELT. Even then, the non-transferable contracts didn't pay enough, so she needed to agree to the more lucrative transfer clause. Such a contract had come easily with her looks.

The only sad moment in our conversation was when she talked about her mother and brother, who she had not seen for two years. Apparently, both had naturally fought her decision to become a CELT, calling his illness "God's will." When she refused to listen, they broke all contact with her. Her money was now funneled to them through a charitable foundation which, on her strict orders, took full credit for the charity. There was no bitterness in the explanation. "Just my bad luck," she said with a sad smile.




The Gambler



I

I wanted this one. Different from the others, he was somehow able to see what I had habitually hidden. He was slender, tall, and had jet black hair. His deliberate movements laid bare a deeply rooted intelligence which revealed he knew who he was and what he wanted. At a point in my life where I found myself attracted to men who knew what they wanted, I wanted him to want me.

Small towns, you understand. Even now, I can't remember how I knew about him. It seemed I always did. From the time I was a little girl, I knew. But he was a big boy and big boys don't notice little girls, at least not until little girls grow big tits. 

Of course, in little towns, everyone sees everyone at some point. It's just that not everyone is conscious of everyone is all. 

We didn't formally meet until I was nearly twenty. Until then, I went out of my way to stay out of his way, embarrassed he might catch me looking; worried he might know my secret thoughts. Anyway, he paid little attention to me and fortunately, our uninvolvement gave me time to grow, to visit the clearing...to become a woman. 

At the time, I was tangled up with Dex, the one I followed to a secret place - secret from girls anyway, or most girls; a clearing in the woods by the river. There, concealed in the tall grass, we did it; made love with only the warm afternoon sunshine looking on, smiling no doubt. He was tender and taught me. It was there that I first knew sex and its power. As one might nourish a delicate sprout, a little girl's body soaked up those few drops of semen and blossomed, developing a slender waist which accentuated large soft breasts, and rounded hips. Pretty? I don't know, but with my big green eyes, carefully accented with pale shadow, some thought so. 

Like an Egyptian goddess, I learned that my eyes entranced men; lots of men, men who contributed to my...education, which advanced in lengthy -- sometimes dangerously lengthy - strides. Mom knew and feared for me. But it was too late. By then, I was who I was. 

After the river there were others of course, but nothing like this; nothing that left me hungry like I was for this unusual man, this Edmond. My feelings for him were frightening in their intensity and were about to drive me to take on a role I had never had to actively play on a man's stage before; the temptress. I had to have him.

Where he was concerned, little else mattered. In the end I just couldn't resist him as some strange and demanding attraction tugged at my heart-strings and, in typical fashion, I gave way to instincts which overwhelmed me.

One day, as if it were a casual thing rather than something I had obsessed about for months, I simply opened my phone and called him. He was surprised, but only a little. We met for an innocent drink and he asked me to a New Year's Eve party. Though I accepted and desperately wanted to go, from the moment I said "yes" I had every intention of backing out. 

Even knowing he was the kind who might not repeat the invitation, I played the odds and risked it anyway. Employing a lame excuse, I stood him up at the last minute. It was a favorite trick I used to keep men off balance. It always worked.

II

I didn't allow men to control me and puzzled even myself about this one. Why was it, I wondered, that with him I wanted it; to be controlled, but not too readily. True, I enjoyed the danger I sensed about him and knew if he ever touched me I'd catch fire, so I decided that whatever this was, despite the fantasies I'd had since the age of thirteen, I wasn't going to allow myself to open up too quickly. 

Given the relationships which had already passed across the stormy sea of my experience, I had learned that there are only two places from which a woman could survive in a relationship. She can either be dominant or dominated. The first was safer and was infinitely more useful than the second. But given what I knew of Edmond's temperament, I wasn't certain I could access option one.

III

There was an emotional strength about him that I liked but which came bundled with a matching suggestion of delicacy. I sensed he was made of tempered glass and knew I would need to be alert in my dealings. The risk-taker in me had passed up what might have become safer relationships as I waited, anxiously at times for the likes of him to make his appearance. But I liked the danger his paradoxical nature implied as he, unlike the others, rarely did what I thought he would. 

An intimate connection with him would require carefully considered tactics as he insisted on exclusivity in his women and had a reputation for demanding that they remain chaste, a rule he didn't apply to himself. Being with him meant he could do what he wished while it was understood that I would fuck only him. All of this came to me through women who had played their hand with him but failed to produce a Royal Flush. So yes, I knew the stakes were high with this one. 

And I admit, I had something working against me; something I knew he was aware of and which never sits well with Sicilians. My past was suspect; sex with a man I didn't like much while others stood watching nearby. I had slept with yet another merely because he looked like Brad Pitt. So shallow, I thought afterward, but that was before I did it a second time. Oh, and I had fucked my best friend's boyfriend while she was at work, all because I could. This was only the tip of my sexual iceberg. 

And then there were the others. Women I knew he was seeing; three of them. Dealing with them would be complicated but that was for later. Right now, I had more important things to contend with; the danger which had taken me to the river that first time; the same danger which now lured me to Edmond. 

Anyway, in keeping with my game-plan, I stood him up. New Year's Eve came and New Year's Eve went, with little doubt he'd call back in a week or two. They always had.

But a week or two came and a week or two went by, and he didn't call. That's when I grew frantic.

IV

Months passed without a word from him - nothing. Not known for patience, one day I screwed up my courage, and phoned. I knew instantaneously he was less than surprised to hear my voice.

"So, what are your plans for the weekend?" I asked brazenly, acting as if my behavior on New Year's Eve hadn't happened.

Giving me a pass, he answered by calmly handing me the dice. "Nothing much, Annabeth. What did you have in mind?"

Like the impulsive nit-wit I was I invited him to my college, which implied an invitation to my bed where there would only be room for two if one lay on top of the other. A part of me wanted to be turned down. But he didn't turn me down. 

That final notion didn't strike me until after I'd hung up, however. I had now set my next sexual stage; rashly this time, with a man who baffled me, who was pushy when others might cower and who, I would eventually learn, would walk away when others would stay. 

It was clear none of the rules of engagement applied to this guy.

V

Then there was the variable of my college. At my parents' insistence, I lived in an exclusively women's dorm. Imagine? Given this minor restriction, most girls would have opted to work at the local Burger King after high school.

But not being most girls, I didn't even complain. Knowing I would demolish the rules with abandon, I gladly acquiesced to their wishes. It wasn't so bad really; there were particular times when we might entertain male guests. Nighttime wasn't one. 

It was junior year and a trend was developing as many of my friends firmed up relationships with boys who looked to be sound investments. These were girls I confided in. We raised hell together, passing around lots of guys in the process. We had sex with them. Sex, after all, was easy. Love, we learned, was another matter altogether. Somehow the pill, available on demand at the infirmary, didn't help with that.

As we grew older, finding loving relationships took on an urgency none of us would admit to. Did true love even exist? In typical fashion, we ceaselessly tossed the question around and as a hedge against disappointment, tried to convince ourselves it wasn't real, something we all publicly agreed to. Privately, we obsessed over finding it and each of us embarked on quest after quest just to feel it, if only briefly. 

Anyway, I thought maybe he wouldn't show.

VI

Descending nervously that Friday evening, I navigated the stairwell to the lobby to greet him. 

Dressed and ready to leave, I was both excited and frightened; awash in my own femininity, and about to experience what I had only watched from afar since God knows when. Moving with slight trepidation, I wore black heels that left me conscious of every step I took.

He had taken a seat in one of the lobby's overstuffed chairs and studied my approach. I was careful and tried to hide my apprehensions, instead projecting warmth in my smile. Standing, he greeted me with an affectionate hug and I could tell he was pleased with what he saw. It was nice.

"I'm glad you came, Edmond," I lied.

"I am too," he responded, likely half-wondering why he was bothering with me after the New Year's Eve fiasco.

My mother's advice crossed my mind. "Don't show too much of yourself," she had cautioned when I was a teen. "Boys will think about whatever they can see and their attentions can be held in check with minimum visibility." Having been with my adorable father for nearly twenty-five years, it was a safe bet she knew something. 

So I didn't show a lot but with my body, I didn't need to. A blind man could see there was much to be had. And this one wasn't blind.

We went off to attend a party at a nearby school where we danced and didn't stop moving for hours. Tire him out, I reasoned. He had to be exhausted by the end. Then we'd sleep together. And I didn't think of that euphemistically. In one of my more contradictory moments, I suddenly wanted to put off what I had craved since a little girl had watched a big boy from afar on her way to school. 

My mind rolled the issue back and forth in unrelenting chaos. Why was I at once both excited and terrified by all this? Why did I suddenly have reservations about the complications which routinely come attached to overly-hasty sex? Fuck, I had always had overly-hasty sex! 

Deep down, I knew the answer. It was because the stakes were so high. I wanted him too much and was scaring myself into hesitation.

In any event, as the evening waned I came to think I might have gotten through night number one unscathed, with a second and more challenging day to follow on Saturday.

But the flavor of life can change swiftly and we danced, we sweated, we sneaked outside to the parking lot and smoked a joint - not that we needed to as there was plenty of that going on inside, but rather to be alone together. By late evening the weight of my own passion, a passion whose origins followed a vanishing point dating to childhood, was crushing me.

Nonsensically, when being alone with him became too scary for me I hinted we'd best rejoin the party. He surprised me by conceding and we giggled at the transparency of concealed intimacy. The next few hours heaved with music. I never moved my eyes from his, and instead wandered naked in a crowd which saw nothing and where our intellects wordlessly merged and waited. It was exhilarating and didn't work, of course, as with every passing moment I wanted him all the more.

Like I said, risk is exciting. And just then, he was risk.

VII

My heart pounded anxiously as we approached the dormitory, standing in frosty, silent silhouette against the backdrop of a moonlit early-morning sky. Shifting seamlessly into stealth mode, I sneaked Edmond to the third floor using the rear service entrance whose key I had previously lifted from the facility's security chief, after indulging him for the express purpose of acquiring that illusive prize. Getting caught meant suspension but at the moment the remnants of my hazy mind judged the prize worthy of any potential peril.

Two frenziedly silent minutes later, I slipped my key into the door of room 310. We had made it. Of course we had; having smuggled numerous boys into Queen's Court, I was a celebrated expert, an authority on the subject who knew exactly how to do it. In fact, I had never been caught and my girlfriends stood in awe of an unbroken record of success.

He was in and I had gotten him there. Barriers to the disguises women rely on for refuge were being battered down and I was doing the battering. The door to my empty room closed softly behind us. We were alone. 

The fiery heat of our bodies, stoked through hours of continual movement at the party, had cooled in the winter night only to have the embers reignited by the tension of piercing the residence hall. But the flames burst back to life with an insistent and not entirely unexpected kiss that symbolically sealed an unspoken and one-sided agreement that went something like this: "I will allow you to fuck me with no strings attached." Such a bargain.

In search of a moment to catch my emotional breath, I glanced at the bathroom door. "I'm going to shower," I said, leaving out the part where I invited him to join me. He had undoubtedly noticed but courteously avoided acknowledging the sleight of hand. Instead, he nodded and patiently sat himself on the bed, stretching his long legs onto a small table a few feet away as he mutely stared out at the moonlight bathing the snow-covered quad. 

The ploy granted me a twenty-minute reprieve, time to wrestle with myself over what to do next. In the shower I allowed the water to run for what seemed an eternity, soaping myself twice and afterward rubbing my body with the lotion my dry skin forever craved but derived no satisfaction from. 

Trembling a little at the thought of opening the bathroom door, I wiped the steamy mirror and studied my nakedness. My eyes followed the contours of a vulnerable body, down narrow shoulders to curvaceous breasts, past my waist to soft but unlikely pubic hair. With my own chestnut curls still glistening and damp from the shower combined with the anticipation of what would likely follow, I found myself smiling at the thought of how girls in the market place of romance shaved now.

I remembered Ferron Laporta's off-handed comment before Christmas. Learning I planned to start seeing him and sensing things might end up a little more than platonic, she had warned, "Don't shave, Annabeth. He likes it natural. Hair really turns him on." I had wondered how she knew that, but thought it best not to ask.

Her cautionary words had continuously passed through my neurotic mind during the weeks and months that followed, as if endlessly recycling themselves in an IPod set to repeat the same songs over and over. As winter raged, the hair I had once routinely shaved grew back. I was ready for him. 

Anyway, the stage I had created was set but my fears remained, tearing at long-held desires. Why, I wondered, did I have to luck out this year with this private room? There would be little need for the unease I felt, if only I had the usual roommate underfoot. She would have been the diversion I needed. We could all just have...gone to sleep. 

With my gaze locked onto the image in the mirror, I moved my hands to cover the heavy breasts that defined my upper body, remembering his last girl's were all but insignificant; perhaps his preference, but a well-developed woman's figure was what I had to offer. Pulling on my white terry cloth robe, I glanced at my face a final time before grasping the doorknob.

Our eyes met as I warily emerged from the bathroom. The perfect gentleman, he instantly stood, awaiting my approach. Walking up to him I hesitated, as if admitting his impressive height hadn't registered before. Searchingly, I looked up into his eyes and knew he knew it was time. Without uttering a word, he cautiously opened the top of my robe cinched loosely by a frail belt, nudging the garment's soft fabric apart and baring my shoulders.

I allowed it to drop to my waist where it lay for a moment during which time a silence even more deafening than before shrouded our little world. 

Topless. Men like topless and there I stood, looking up into the dusk of those patiently smiling Sicilian eyes. It was as I knew it would be. He could see everything; the little girl which I kept hidden within myself and the woman I was about to show him. 

The heavy lids of my eyes closed languidly as his hands caressed my face before moving to the softness of my breasts. We kissed a kiss of urgency; a kiss I had spent hours convincing myself I didn't want and I tore at his shirt, almost frantically seeking some measure of parity which might show itself if only we were both naked. A feeble long shot, it was nonetheless the only card I had left to play.

Locked in that frantic kiss, we began a groping combat as I unbuckled his belt and madly forced his pants to the floor. His shorts followed as my robe fell away and we collapsed onto my narrow bed where I instantly felt his erection against my belly. He was already, well - ready.

His strength, something I had longed to feel, stretched itself over my satin skin, warming me like a rough blanket against the cold, a chill which had followed us up the stairs in the wake of my own fears. Lowering his head, he urgently sucked my pink nipples into his mouth, circling each with his tongue and leaving them wet as if to remind me of the path he planned to trace over my fully exposed body. 

His thumb plunged into my cunt, soaked from hours of ceaseless, if denied, anticipation. I felt his lips broaden into a smile as he murmured into my open mouth, "I love it...you're wonderful." 

I knew he was telling the truth as that wetness stated plainly that I wanted him. A woman's ultimate decree of invitation, I thought.

I reached for his penis. The tip was wet and I urgently spread his sticky fluid over the head with the palm of my unsteady hand. I so wanted him in my mouth, to suck away the rest, hidden safely inside his handsome body; to taste him as only that act of intimacy allows. But with the ounce of reason I still possessed and juvenile as it may sound, I understood it was too soon; too personal, and if he wanted it - a safe bet with most men -- he revealed nothing of it. He was so Sicilian.

No, I knew tonight he would take my sex, into which he now ceaselessly plunged his rigid thumb and I instinctively opened my legs, allowing him free access to my wanting cervix; an erogenous zone few men even know exists. He carefully circled her tiny mouth, sending shock-waves through a body now freely handed over to his whims. 

Using the dampness from the thick hair between my legs, he pushed a finger into my anus and worked its tip back and forth against his thumb through the thin membrane separating vagina from rectum. No one had ever done that to me before and it left me in both pain and enchantment. What was I thinking? It was madness but with the moment already out of control, I had neither the presence of mind nor the will to restrain him.

With a silent abruptness, he suddenly withdrew both finger and thumb and placed them first into his mouth, then into mine. Our eyes locked again and I sucked his fingers as he rubbed the tip of his erection against my inviting vulva. With an arm under my head and his hand guiding his penis, I opened my legs wider for him and with one swift movement, he was inside me. 

I wanted him deep, deep enough to pummel my uterus and with a muffled scream, I clawed at him, pulling his hair, reaching down to his firm buttocks, demanding more. 

We rocked against each other as if continuing some animalistic dance begun in the early hours of an evening that seemed lost now in some far-off distortion of time. His tongue moved against mine. His penis bludgeoned my sex and I responded by lifting my broad hips to greet his every thrust. We went on that way for what seemed a passionate eternity. 




The Gambler



Throughout it all, he guardedly watched, never relinquishing control of himself or of me and I sensed his wonderment at the woman struggling under him, as he searched her eyes to see whether she was all she appeared. Like a cat stalking its quarry, he never took his eyes from mine until, with a scream, I climaxed for him, wrapping my legs around his back and holding him as deeply as my body would allow. Then his eyes closed and with barely a whimper his hot semen filled me, determined, I thought, to flood my depths, claiming me more completely than I had allowed any man. 

Despite having finished, his cock remained enormous in me, pinning my tiny frame under his weight. The sweat pouring from our exhausted bodies bonded us as one, our chests still heaving despite excitement's fading. 

He charmingly stayed in me, resting himself on strong arms, looking down at the worn out woman of the moment. When he finally began to withdraw and fearing his cum might slip away, I closed my legs and complained tenderly, whispering, "Don't go. Not yet."

Ceasing his movement, he rested his head on the pillow next to mine and taking my hair in his hand, he kissed me, his lips lingering against my own and I breathed his air into my wanting lungs.

It was finished. I had done it; I had taken his sperm for my own. I had opened myself, knowing once done, nothing would ever be the same. Would anything be better? Would the gamble a woman takes when she exposes herself to intimacy's unknowns lead me to a special place? I hadn't a clue.

VIII

The hours before the sun rose were maddingly short as I lay silently but fully awake next to him, watching as he slept peacefully. Refusing to stir for fear of disturbing his slumber, I gave thought to how this one night's sleep might yet become a lasting hibernation with me. 

I knew this sex, this strange and exciting man, was different for me; unlike anything I had felt before. What I needed to know now was, when he awakened, would he feel the same?

End



The Gambler and the Debt Collector



I'd always considered myself a strong man, not really in the physical sense, but more in the confident, motivationally driven and successful sort of thing. As a dutiful and loving husband and a father, I've high morals and standards to strive to meet. I was successful in business and provided well for my family. My job as a business consultant involved a lot of travelling for set periods of time, and when my daughter left the family home to make her own way in life, my wife Lynn then usually accompanied me on my travels. We were both happy and content, until the story I'm about to tell you about unfolded and changed us forever. 

I suppose everyone has a little habit of some kind, sex, drugs or alcohol would be prime examples. Mine was gambling; I liked nothing better than the challenge and excitement of a game of poker. Thinking back, it was the only thing I did that had risk attached to it. In both my work and home life, everything was planned and calculated to ensure that our existence was smooth and uncomplicated. So, for me there was nothing better than to sit back once or twice a week and play a few hands. Back in the old days, I guess I started off small, but as I got better, the stakes went up accordingly. After twenty years, I considered myself pretty darned good. Lynn sort of tolerated my little hobby, but was always worried that it would lead to trouble; I of course assured her that it was only a bit of fun and always under control. 

There are two separate worlds when it comes to poker; the first is at casino which I try to avoid, as I don't enjoy the glitzy glamour and all the noise that goes with it. My preference has always been to find other interested parties and play in the quiet of someone's house, or maybe in a hotel room. Financially, I was ahead in the winning stakes, over the years I'd built up a ten grand float to play with. There had been times that it had been in the negative, but that was some time back now. 

All my troubles started when I took on a three-month out of town contract in a medium-sized city. Lynn and I quickly settled into to our comfortable apartment, generously provided to us by my client, and I put my head down and got stuck into my work. Lynn was an accomplished artist, and would spend most of her time painting. All of her work sold, maybe not for much, but it was her financial contribution to our relationship and would pay for a good holiday once a year which was important to her.

It wasn't long before I began looking for a game of poker and found myself making the rounds of the local casinos to see what was on offer. Out of the three casinos in town, the Golden Globe was the best, and I dropped in twice a week on Tuesdays and Thursdays nights for a little relaxation. It was there that I first met Johnny Enfield, after a few nights at the same poker table we became acquainted and began to socialise as we played. We were about even in the winning stakes, and while there were other players at our table, we laughed as we won and lost against each other. 

A few weeks into it, Johnny mentioned that he also played privately with three or four regular guys, and they were always looking for new blood. I, of course, offered my services, and the following week I joined them. It wasn't a flash affair, just five of us in a run down hotel room with a few drinks. Johnny introduced me to the three other players, Allan, Peter and Kevin, and the fun began. Once a week, we would gather in the same old room and play good poker. We were all confident players, and I won and lost as much as the others. There was lots of laughter and joking as we played, although the strain of the game sometimes came to the fore. 

As the weeks flew buy, the stakes somehow got bigger and bigger. I guess it was the pride macho thing where males don't want to be the first to try and put the brakes on, me included. As the stakes went up, so did the excitement, and I was hooked into it, so much so, that I lost track of what was happening. In the last two hands of the night in question, I lost thirty thousand dollars. I was shaking when I returned home that night, and a wise man would've cut his losses and quit. But for the rest of the week I dreamed the gamblers dream of the one big pot, and I eagerly returned for the next game full of confidence and bravado. I left many hours later with my head in my hands and seventy eight thousand dollars in debt.

I learnt two important lessons that night; the first was that I wasn't as good as I thought I was, secondly that my gambling friends weren't really my friends at all. Two days after that fateful game, Johnny's phone calls started - when was the debt going to be paid? At first, the calls were quite amicable, but soon began to have a more sinister feel about them. My problem was that seventy eight grand was a lot for most anyone to find. By this time, I'd finally come to my senses and ruled out any return to the poker table. My only option to settle the whole thing was to cash up an investment, something I was loath to do. I then stuck my head into the sand and hoped the whole thing would just go away, which it didn't.

I arrived home from work one night to find a stranger dressed in a suit in my lounge sipping on a coffee provided by Lynn. Luke McCann politely introduced himself and advised me that he had business to discuss with me. My initial thoughts were that it was to do with the contract I was working on, and I made myself comfortable to hear what he had to say. With Lynn sitting beside me, Luke told me that he was in the debt collection business, and that he'd purchased the seventy eight thousand dollar debt from Johnny Enfield for seventy thousand. He explained that the eight thousand difference was his commission. I felt Lynn's eyes upon me, and my heart sunk into the depths of despair. Luke smiled knowingly from across the carpeted floor for a few seconds before asking how this debt would be paid. I waffled on for a few seconds before he got to his feet and looked down at me with menacing eyes. He was much taller and wider than me, and the threat was real and obvious. Placing a business card on the coffee table beside me, he suggested that I call him in the next twenty four hours. He then made his own way out of the apartment.

The next twenty four hours were the worst in my life; I first sat subdued as Lynn vented her anger upon me. She used language that I would never thought would ever leave her mouth. For the first time in our marriage, her hand lashed my face twice leaving me stunned. She then glared at me in her rage before rushing into our bedroom, the metallic lock snapping loudly behind her, and then I listened to her distant sobbing. Until this night, ours had been a good strong marriage. It was like a partnership, we both valued the same things; morally we were on the same wavelength and we worked hard for what we had. And through my own stupidity, I had put it all in jeopardy. 

The next morning after a sleepless night in the spare bedroom, I tried to take my anger out on Johnny Enfield. Over the phone, he listened to my tirade without interruption, and when I'd run out of steam, he told me that Luke McCann was a very dangerous man, and that I'd better pay up quickly. When I asked the obvious, Johnny told me that he wasn't the usual type of debt collector, but his methods were very effective. 

Realising the trouble I was now in, my next phone call was to my financial broker. Against his better judgement, I advised him to cash up our retirement investment to cover the debt. My only worry was that it would be two weeks before I could get my hands on the money. My next phone call was to Luke McCann who was surprisingly agreeable about the arrangements, especially when he advised me that the interest over the two weeks would be just above market rates.

Over the next two weeks, I tried to make my peace with Lynn. But she was in a new place; she was distant, but polite when she had to be. She did her best not to be in the same room as me which hurt me more than I can describe. She moved her clothes into the spare room where she slept since Luke's first visit. My vigorous attempts to win her over failed dismally, and I feared for our future. Whenever I tried to explain what had happened, her tearful eyes would engage me for a few seconds before she made her escape.

My despair increased when my broker rang to advise that there would be a further two weeks until the money would be available. The following phone call to Luke McCann did not go well, and I had a feeling that my excuse for non-payment had fallen on unbelieving ears. 

Three nights later, Luke McCann was back at our apartment. I reluctantly invited him inside and offered him a seat. Lynn entered the room and took a seat as I began to explain to Luke about the delay in getting his money. He listened with interest until I'd finished and then smiled.

"See, sometimes I get the impression that people don't take me seriously." he commented. "And it's when people don't take me seriously that I don't get paid. So I have this little rule, and this is how it works. I always find it beneficial to demonstrate how serious I am about this sort of thing. I'm currently seventy eight grand out of pocket, and as a business man I have costs and therefore have to protect my investment. When people like you tell me I'm gonna have to wait to get my money, I find a little demonstration of my frustration gets results."

"You're going to get your money." I replied.

Luke smiled as he looked around the apartment, "Oh, I know that, but when, is the big question? What I usually do is break a few things, but I guess this is a rented apartment and it won't have any real benefits. That leaves me the violence option, a few broken bones maybe, just to demonstrate the urgency of the situation."

"You're not serious?" I asked as my heart thumped.

"Deadly serious". Luke replied as he removed a wooden truncheon from inside his long jacket and tapped it on his knee. "As I'm not an unreasonable man, I usually start on the legs first. I mean you can still work with a broken leg, or two."

Lynn surprised us both as she jumped from her chair, "I'm not putting up with this I'm going to call the police."

"DON'T YOU DARE." Luke replied forcefully.

Lynn looked over at me, and sat back down when I shook my head.

"There's no need for this." I replied. "You will get your money."

"I know. But this is not about the money; it's about breaking your promise to me. And that comes at a price. So, where do you want it, an arm or a leg?" Luke asked calmly.

Lynn jumped from her chair and stood between Luke and me.

"How dare you come into our house and threaten us. You're nothing but a fucking creep and a hooligan. Just fuck off out of here."

Fearing for Lynn, I leapt from my chair and pulled her away, she struggled with me as I did so. Luke watched on with some interest and smiled as I managed to get her back into her chair.

"I'll tell you what." Luke said. "How about you let me fuck your pretty wife instead of taking a beating? I reckon that's a fair deal, I mean no man in his right mind likes to see his wife get drilled by another man."

"NO!" I replied.

Luke grinned as he got to feet, "Your choice, but a broken leg takes time to mend. You might want to reconsider." 

"I'll take the beating if I have to." I said bravely.

"No you won't." Lynn said getting up from her chair. "If that what it takes, then I'll do it."

"No Lynn, you can't. I won't let you." I pleaded.

But Lynn stood defiantly before me, "I'll not let anyone hurt you."

"Lynn, you can't do this."

She shrugged her shoulders, "I've done it with other men before we met, what's one more now?"

By this time, Luke was more than interested in seeing this through, for my Lynn is indeed a desirable woman. She's not tall, is petite in stature but with all the right curves. With her shoulder length black hair, she could pass from a school girl from behind. But from the front, there is never any disappointment when one then realises that she is much older than they might have originally thought. Her face is lovely, with big eyes and high cheek bones, her smile can be dazzling. In summer, her skin turns a coppery brown. And here she stood, looking beautiful in a short denim skirt and a pink top, and was offering herself to another man to save me from getting hurt. 

"No, I won't let you." I said with conviction.

Lynn turned to Luke and pointed to our bedroom door, "Wait in there, I'll be there in a sec."

"Nah, I think he should watch." Luke suggested. "It's supposed to be his punishment."

Lynn turned to Luke, "Don't make this any harder than it is, just go in there and wait."

Luke smiled and gave me a wink, "Don't worry, I'll give her a good time, I promise."

I made a wild lunge for him, but Lynn stepped between us and put her hands on my chest.

"Don't, you'll only get hurt."

Luke waited until he was sure that I'd calmed down, and then walked into our bedroom.

Lynn turned to me and looked into my eyes, "You're a stupid man and I love you to bits. I can't just sit back and see you hurt if I can do something about it."

"Please don't do this." I again pleaded.

Her eyes hardened, "It's only sex for Christ's sake."

I watched as my wife turned and walked to our bedroom and closed the door; then the metallic click of the lock being set reached my ears.

Our bedroom door leads off the lounge, and I sat down outside the door and buried my head in my hands as the gravity of the situation took hold. What had I done? I asked myself. For the next few minutes I could hear voices from behind the door, mainly Luke, but not what was being said. Then I heard the bed springs creak as it did when climbed upon. My heart was beating wildly in unfathomable despair at the thought of what was happening a mere few feet away. While I'm not a violent man, I dreamed of having a gun in my hands and breaking down the door, then placing the barrel against Luke McCann's forehead and pulling the trigger. But alas, it wasn't to be.

My dream was eventually broken by the sound of familiar little gasps from behind the door, the sort of little gasps that Lynn moaned when she was being pleasured sexually. My heart sunk further as the realisation hit home that Lynn might be enjoying herself. A short time later, came the tapping of the wooden bed head against the wall, and I knew that my beautiful Lynn was being fucked. I cannot begin to describe how I now felt; the emotional pain was almost intolerable. A short time later came the little moans of Lynn's pleasure that I knew would be in perfect timing of every thrust of his cock as it hit home deep inside her. I soon lost track of time, every now and then, the bed noise would stop, and then start again soon after. I realised that this would be when they changed positions. When I could take it no longer, I moved away from the door so that I couldn't hear. I sat in the lounge and stared painfully out into the night without seeing a thing.

The unlocking of the bedroom door brought me back to reality, the door opened and Luke stepped out and into the lounge. His heavily muscled nude body was shiny with sweat; my eyes fell to his large semi erect cock which covered in a wet gooey mess. His eyes found mine, and he grinned at my obvious discomfort.

"Hey, that's some lady you got there. Best fuck I've had for years. Maybe we can work out a little deal. I get to fuck her each week you're late with payment, I could live with that."

Before I could answer, he walked back into the bedroom and closed the door. A few minutes later, Luke reappeared dressed and ready to go.

"If you want all this to go away, you know what you have to do." he told me before heading for the door and letting himself out.

While I wanted to walk into my bedroom and make sure Lynn was okay, I couldn't bring myself to do so. My pain and guilt were just too much to cope with, for I had brought a terrible, terrible thing to us. Hearing the shower in the ensuite running, I then took myself into the spare bedroom and curled up on the bed, and the thought of suicide was briefly contemplated. 

As I later lay in the darkness, I was surprised to hear Lynn's footsteps enter the room, and then the soft warmth of her body as she cuddled in behind me.

"I'm sorry." was all I could muster.

She didn't reply.

I didn't sleep that night, I just lay awake with Lynn curled in behind me. She eventually fell asleep, and her intermittent light snoring gave me some comfort. The next morning, Lynn woke and climbed quietly from the bed. I heard her use the bathroom and she then came back into the bedroom. In a short nightgown, she sat on the bed next in front of me and gazed down.

"I'm sorry." I again whispered

"I know, but what's done is done. We can't change it."

"Did he hurt you?" I asked.

She sort of smiled and shook her head, "No, he treated me fine."

"That's something I suppose. I could hear you from outside the door."

Her smile disappeared, and her face became serious. "We need to talk about this, and we should do it right now. I know you're going to ask me questions about what happened. Did he hurt me, no he didn't. Did I enjoy Luke fucking me? No, I didn't, but the sex was good. Did he cum? Yes he did. Did I cum? Yes, I did. Do I regret it? I will for the rest of my life. Will I ever do it again? No; never in a million years. Is there anything else you might want to know?"

"Yes, do you still love me?"

Her hand stroked my face, "Always. I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't."

I pulled her down towards me, and we kissed and petted for a while. I was surprised to feel her hand slip inside the waistband of my trousers and caress my manhood. I looked into her face questioningly.

"I can't bear the thought that the last man inside me wasn't you." she said. "After all that's happened, I want you to do me right now. It may seem strange, but that's what I want."

I raised myself from the bed as Lynn removed my trousers and then settled down beside me. Her warm mouth was around my cock, and it quickly grew under her skilful technique. It had been some time since I'd been intimate with my wife, and the joy of her return was special. When she got me hard, she straddled me as her hands removed the nightgown from around her and she disposed of it. Raising her buttocks a little, she took my cock and slipped it between her pussy lips and lowered herself carefully onto it slowly. I savoured the pleasure, her tight warm wetness hugging my cock as it moved inside her.

I let my eyes take in her body, the last few weeks of hell forcing me to appreciate her more than I had ever done so before. Her short tanned thighs seemingly spread painfully wide across me, and exposing a natural triangle of short dark curls. Through them, I could see glimpses of her thick pussy lips gripping my shaft. Her bikini lines were pale, but above it was tanned until it reached her pale breasts, a mere handful but perfect through my loving eyes. Her eyes were closed as she slowly rode me, her face still attractive without any make up. I reached up and pulled her down so that I could kiss her, and hold her tight.

"I love you so much." I whispered.

"I know." she replied while stroking her hand through my hair. "I know you do."

After a few minutes, she raised herself into a sitting position, her pussy jammed down fully over my cock.

"Do you want to know about last night, what he did to me?" Lynn asked as she looked down at me with her big eyes.

"I don't know." I replied honestly.

"This is your only chance, because I'm intending to forget it forever, like it never happened. No doubt you will be inquisitive, and I think you should know."

"Okay." I replied, even though I wasn't sure it was such a good idea.




The Gambler and the Debt Collector



LYNN'S STORY:

I've always hated violence. I will never forget seeing a man beaten after a traffic accident when I was ten or twelve years of age. Our car was hemmed in by others, and my mother was unable to escape from the scene. We watched in dumbfounded terror as the victim was dragged from his car and beaten to a pulp before our eyes. The thought of Luke beating and possibly maiming my husband in front of my very eyes was unthinkable. It would no doubt have a profound effect on me and would haunt me for the rest of my life. So was the option of trading my body for sex to save my husband from a beating a hard one? Not for one second. But if I could've got out of it, I would've run from the scene at a million miles an hour.

Before I met my husband, I was fairly free with my sexual favours, I liked boys and they liked me back. In my late teens and early twenties, I enjoyed the excitement of casual sex as well as all the pleasure that came with it. It gave me the opportunity to experiment and find out what I liked, and what I didn't which wasn't that much. When I met my husband, I knew he was the one for me. He was cute and with a good body, which I might add has now slipped a little with age. He was funny and made me happy, and even at a young age made good money which he sensibly lavished upon me; although that wasn't all that important in the scheme of things. Our marriage has been a good one, and we worked hard to bring up our only child and successfully dispatch her into the world with all the life skills we could provide. Since then, we've settled back and lived life to the full.

I've never been unfaithful to my husband from the day we met. He's an accomplished lover and keeps me well satisfied, but his sex drive is a bit higher than mine. Like most marriages, men reckon they don't get enough, mine included. Has my husband ever been unfaithful to me? While he's had plenty of opportunities when he's been away on business, I don't think so. I see him right before he leaves, and he's pretty demanding when he returns. His suitcase has hardly hit the floor before his wandering hands are up my skirt. Besides, I can usually read him like a book, and the guilt would soon give him away.

Luke kind of scared me from the first time I laid eyes on him. He was big and powerful, and while he smiled and laughed a lot, there was a menacing side to him that was apparent to me from the start. When I learnt about the debt, I was petrified, and I knew that something bad was going to happen. My anger and fear knew no bounds, and I struck my husband for the first time. I hated the gambling thing, but every man has his weaknesses. Was the gambling too bad a vice? Until now I didn't think so. 

I was stunned at Luke's proposition, although maybe in hindsight I should have expected it. Both times he was in our apartment; his eyes were often upon me. I know men look at me, and usually I don't mind at all, but with Luke it was more calculating. So, my choice was terrifyingly simple, watch my husband being beaten, or spread my legs for Luke. As I mentioned before, the answer was simple, but for any loving husband, this would be unthinkable. I knew that my husband was going to defend me, and Luke knew that too. Luke was just waiting for my husband to attack him, and the result would have been catastrophic. My husband isn't a fighter, and Luke armed with a wooden truncheon would've dealt to him in seconds, and I have no doubt it would have been vicious.

It took me seconds to make my mind up to do this act; my next responsibility was to separate the two men before something bad happened. That's why I asked Luke to go into our bedroom and wait. The fact that Luke wanted to do me in front of my husband was unthinkable, I just couldn't do it. The one thing I'll never forget is the look of absolute despair on my husband's face just before I turned and walked into the bedroom to commit that horrible deed.

After locking the door behind me, I found Luke smiling smugly as his lecherous eyes roamed over me. I shuddered and vowed to get this over as soon as possible. I walked to the side of the bed and waited for him to do what he wanted with me. I closed my eyes as he approached me, and then jumped involuntarily as he touched me for the first time.

"No rough stuff." I growled.

"I'm not into that." he replied.

Luke was much taller than me, and to counteract it, he lifted me onto a small wooden locker that sat on the floor at the end of our bed. We were now just about the same height; and I felt Luke's lips on my neck slowly kissing their way upwards to my mouth. At the last moment I turned my head away to avoid his mouth.

"No kissing." I whispered.

Luke chuckled, "Oh, going to play hard to get are we? Let's see if we can fix that."

His hands were next on my legs, and I felt my skirt being lifted and my buttocks caressed. Not wanting to antagonise him any further, I parted my legs slightly as his fingers slipped between my thighs. I stood still as my panties were eased aside and his fingers explored my pussy. I winced as he attempted to slide a finger inside me, my lack of arousal making it impossible. Thankfully, he removed his hand from inside my panties but then pushed them downwards to my ankles. My skirt was next, and he then removed my top and bra leaving me nude with the exception of a necklace, and my wedding and engagement rings. He then took a step back to admire my nakedness.

"Holy fuck, what a killer body." he whispered as I looked ashamedly down at the carpet.

Luke then impatiently threw off his clothes in a matter of seconds, and I raised my eyes with morbid interest. At another time, I might've admired his body. He was wider shouldered and heavily muscled. On his chest sat a tattoo of an eagle, and his thick upper arms were tattooed also. I took in the scars on his chest and arms, no doubt from previous violent encounters. His stomach was flat, and below his heavy erection pointed slightly downwards. It was an ugly looking thing, heavily veined with a bend to the right. The shaft was long and thick; and the pink bulbous head sitting unattractively at the end, and I shuddered at the thought of it inside me.

I forced my eyes downwards to his wide thighs, and fearfully considered how this powerful man could to anything he wanted with me, for I could never hope to fight him off. He stepped close to me and guided his erection between my thighs. I moved my right leg slightly to accommodate his wish. For the next minute or so, he explored my breasts with his hands and mouth as he moved his cock back and forward between my thighs. Eventually, it found its way between my pussy lips, but while I remained submissive; my arousal was nil. He asked me what I liked to do, but gave up when I failed to answer. 

Eventually he gave up on his endeavours to arouse me in the standing position, and with his strong arms, effortlessly picked me up and placed me on the bed. I lay back submissively as he spread my thighs wide and positioned himself between them. A few seconds were spent examining my most private parts, and then his tongue slipped between my lips. I did my best to ignore his endeavours to try and arouse me, but after a few minutes I felt a little interest seep through me. I fought hard to remember that the tongue toying with my lips was unwanted, and that no enjoyment should be taken. But it was to no avail, and I eventually gave up the struggle. Luke was an accomplished licker, and I began to move against him as my clitoris was skilfully licked and suckled upon.

I've always been a noisy lover, and moan and groan a lot when I'm being sexually pleasured. No matter what I try and do to keep quiet, it never works. Throughout the time when our daughter was at home, the master bedroom had to be a long way from hers to eliminate any embarrassment. So it wasn't long before Luke knew that he had me going, my vocal repertoire and my freely running juices over his face making it more than obvious. He continued licking me for quite some time, but then I felt his mouth disengage and his body slide upwards and over me. I braced myself as the head of his cock slipped between my lips searching for my entrance. His entry was gentle, and he moved back and forth as he entered me in a few short strokes. 

His cock was large and filled me completely when he was in to the hilt. Again, I tried to ignore the pleasure that came with it, but it was all in vain. With long slow strokes, Luke began to fuck me; sometimes he would completely remove his cock from my pussy, and then aim it back in again. My hand slipped downwards to correct his aim if need be, but it wasn't needed. Luke was supporting his weight over with his arms, this allowed his lips to roam over my breasts and neck, but I still avoided his attempted kisses. My legs crept upwards and surrounded his torso, and I was soon being ridden hard and well. Luke began to speed up, and our bodies slapped noisily together with resounding slaps. I could hear myself moan and groan, but was powerless to stop myself. 

He chuckled into my ear, "So, you like old Luke fucking you do you? 

I didn't reply, but let him ride me at will. The next thing he proved was that he had stamina. I lost track of the time he rode me, but our bodies were soon glowing from our sexual exhaustion, I would have to admit that I was enjoying the ride and his every thrust was met. Please don't think that Luke was a better lover than my husband, it was just that everything was different. My legs were spread wider around his torso, due to his cock being thicker and with a bend; it felt noticeably different inside me. His technique was to fuck me with long hard stokes which was a change from what I was used to within my long marriage. While I knew that I shouldn't be enjoying this, the pleasure was hard to avoid.

It was some time before Luke removed his cock from me and rolled onto the bed beside me. If the situation was different, I might have laughed at the sight of his cock swinging back and forth in the air. His hand began toying with my pubic curls.

"Mmmm, I love hairy pussies, don't like them bald." he whispered. "What shall we do next?"

When I didn't answer, he rolled my submissive body on to my stomach and pulled me up onto my hands and knees. He moved behind me and I soon felt his cock slip between my pussy lips, when he couldn't find my entrance, I reached down and guided him in to avoid him hurting me. Again Luke began to punish me with long hard strokes and I lowered my head to the bed and braced myself. It wasn't long before I heard myself moaning and groaning. With his strong hands around my waist, he was able to pull me backwards onto his thrusting cock. Little did he know that this was my favourite position, and intense pleasure soon began to build inside me. I involuntarily raised my head from the bed and pushed backwards to meet his every stroke. 

Our fucking became almost frantic, and a few times his cock fell from me causing me to cry in disappointment. But each time I was thankfully re-entered quickly, and it wasn't long before the stirrings of orgasm came to me. My movements became more calculating so that his cock didn't fall from me and break the rhythm I needed to achieve that special moment. I fought the guilt that intermittently flicked through my brain telling me that I shouldn't let this happen, that it should only be for my husband. I cried loudly as my orgasm arrived and slowed my movements down so that I could concentrate on the exquisite pleasure as it rocked through my body. My hand slipped down to my clitoris and stroked it as I eased away from Luke's cock so that I could ejaculate freely. My ejaculation, which was always welcomed by husband was forceful and messy as usual; but caught Luke by complete surprise. 

"WHAT THE FUCK?" he mumbled as he looked down at my juices all over his cock and running down his thighs.

But I cared not as I relaxed down on the bed in my usual post orgasmic coma. 

"What've you done to me?" he gasped.

I grinned smugly, "Cum over you."

"Fuck, I've never seen that before." 

I watched with some pleasure as Luke stood beside the bed and dried himself off with the corner of the bedspread. Reaching for me, he raised me back onto my hands and knees and guided me away from the mess on the bedspread. He slipped inside me again and began to fuck me. But my interest since my orgasm had diminished, and I wanted this over with. I lowered my head to the bed and let him take me, he soon sensed this and slipped his cock from my pussy and placed it against the entrance to my anus. Before he could do me any damage, I pulled away from him and rolled over into a sitting position.

"No, I'm not into anal." I said with conviction.

Luke smiled down at me, "Some girls like it."

"Well I don't."

Okay, okay, don't get septic with me." he replied. "How about a bit more missionary?"

I moved downwards on the bed, lowered myself onto my back and spread my legs for him. I watched as Luke's body moved over mine and his cock disappear beneath my pubic curls. His entrance was easy from my wet orgasm, and he began to slide back and forth within me. He lowered his body onto mine but thankfully took his weight on his elbows. He was soon nuzzling my neck and breast with little kisses, but I again avoided his numerous attempts to kiss me on the mouth.

"C'mon, how about a little kiss?" he asked.

"No, you can fuck me, but you're not going to kiss me."

As always, my passion disappears after orgasm, and I wanted Luke to finish and get out of my sight. I was now thinking of the consequences of being fucked by another man for the first time in my marriage. My husband whom I loved was a few feet away and no doubt in some agony of what was happening to me. Would this be the end of our marriage, could we ever hope to put this behind us? All of a sudden I got emotional, and I could feel the tears of my anguish running down my face. I needed to get out of this bed and away from Luke so that I could be with my husband.

"Hurry up, you've worn me out and I'm starting to get a sore pussy." I lied.

"Sure, all in good time." Luke assured me as he raised my legs over my shoulders and pushed into me.

For the next few minutes, Luke pushed hard into me. I knew that he had no intention of finishing quickly, and then horrid thought of his sperm inside me suddenly made me queasy. I didn't want his sperm inside just as I didn't want him to kiss me, it just seemed too intimate and personal for someone I had no feelings for. It was now time to take things into my own hands. I rolled away from Luke and knelt on the bed.

"I'm not fucking anymore, but I'll blow you if you promise to cum quick?

Luke smiled smugly and rolled onto his back. I held back my own grin because it was going to be more of a handjob than a blow job, he just didn't know it yet. I moved into position and took his cock in hand and began to fondle it for a few seconds before settling down into a rhythm. I've always liked giving handjobs, from a young age it was a good way to keep boys interested without fucking them. Besides, I liked to watch the look on their faces as I teased them towards and through an orgasm. Sometimes, I would place pressure on their cocks at the precise moment and then release it to see how high they could squirt.

"Suck me." Luke urged after awhile.

I reluctantly lowered my mouth and sucked him for a few seconds. I took back into my mouth a few times but only for short periods.

"You're too big," I lied hoping it would appeal to his large ego, and continued with the hand job.

When I ran out of natural lubrication, I reached over to a bedside drawer and carefully removed a tube of lube and closed it again. I didn't want Luke to see the toys that were in the drawer, for it might have led to other things. After squeezing out more than enough onto the head of his cock, I then massaged it down the length and began to work him. It took a short time to work out which technique was going to be most effective, long fast strokes from the base up over the head seemed to work best. Within a minute, Luke began to shake beneath my touch, and seconds later his cum was flying into the air and then down my hand. Fighting the urge to stop my stroking, I slowly milked him until he was finished. 

"Ohhhhh that was good." he whispered.

His eyes closed, and I realised he was about to go to sleep which was the last thing I wanted. I poked him in the ribs and thankfully he roused. He smiled up at me as he stretched his body, then rolled to the side of the bed and got shakily to his feet. He walked to the door, unlocked it and stood where my husband could see his nude body just to rub it all in. 

I removed myself from the bed and quickly hid my worn body under a robe; removing the soiled bedspread I placed it in the laundry hamper. Luke came back into the bedroom and smiled.

"How was that, good for you was I?"

I gave him a dirty look and entered the ensuite locking the door behind me. Thankful for my escape, I stood under the shower cleansing my body until the water turned cold. I dried myself and returned tentatively to the bedroom, and was very relieved to find Luke and his clothes gone. Finding the lounge empty, I walked into the spare bedroom to find my man curled up in the bed. Without hesitation, I climbed in behind him and placed my arms lovingly around him. And when he whispered I'm sorry, I let my silent tears flow, for I too was sorry what I'd done and very scared for our future.

_________________________________

By the time Lynn finished telling her story, there were tears in both of our eyes. My erection had long since disappeared, for me there had been no joy of my wife's intimacy with another man. Lynn lay down over me and I held her tightly and told her how much I loved her. She then told me how much she too loved me, and it was the most important thing I've ever heard. We lay in bed for a long time with only tears as our companion.

Later that morning, Lynn and I sat down over breakfast and discussed the future. We were both concerned that Luke might return for another frolic in our bed, something that neither of us wanted. It was decided that Lynn would return to our home town where she would be safe among family and friends. I would stay and finish my contractual obligations and then follow. It was with a heavy heart that I packed Lynn's car with her belongings knowing it would be a while before we saw each other again. I had the horrible nagging feeling that maybe Lynn might not want me anymore, and I would return home to an empty house and a Dear John letter. But you can't be married for someone for twenty plus years without knowing what is going through your soul mates mind. Lynn could always read me like a book, and she got out of the drivers seat, slipped into my arms and nuzzled my neck just how I like it.

"Please get home as soon as you can, I love you to bits and I want you back as soon as possible." she whispered. "Promise?"

"I promise."

Ignoring what the neighbours in the car park might think, we kissed passionately for more than a few seconds before Lynn prised herself from my arms. It was with inconceivable sadness that I watched my love's car drive away a few seconds later.

For the next two weeks, we spoke to each other by phone every night, for it gave us both a little assurance that things would be okay between us. I put in sixteen hour days to finish off my project so that I could head home. There were still a few little things that had to be done, but I could do those from back home. During that time, I managed to transfer the seventy eight grand to Luke, and got an e-mail confirmation and thanks from Luke. The fact that Luke had my e-mail was a surprise to me and proved how resourceful he was. What I was soon to find out was just how resourceful he actually was.




The Gambler and the Debt Collector



Fate sometimes provides us with valuable lessons that put things into perspective. After returning home, Lynn and I settled down into our normal loving coexistence, and put what had happened with Luke behind us. We talked lots, and I promised that my gambling was gone forever. Not long after my return, one of Lynn's old girl friends from her school days met with tragedy. Her husband had gone to pick up their son after the movies, and their car had been hit by young street racers and they'd both been killed. A few days later, we sat and watched as a friend buried her husband and only son. I will always remember the emotional moment during the service when Lynn put her hand over mine and squeezed it tightly. The message was clear, how lucky we were to have each other.

One night about eight weeks after my return, I answered a late night knock at the door. A hulking man whom I'd not met before stood on our doorstep and held out a brown paper bag.

"Mr McCann said to give you this." 

Without another word, he walked away down our driveway. I carried the bag inside and emptied it out on the dining room table where Lynn was drinking a coffee. To both our surprise, out fell a substantial bundled pile of cash. To one side fell a single leaf of light blue paper folded in half. We both looked at the money for some seconds, and then I picked up the solitary piece of paper, unfolded it and began to read it aloud for Lynn to hear.

"I hope I find you both well. Your debt was the first dealings I had with Johnny Elwood, but I got a few more after that. It kind of got me thinking, were these guys really that good at poker that they could win substantial amounts of money? While you might find this hard to believe, I consider myself an honest businessman. The last thing I want is to be is associated with some kind of racket. After a little investigative work, it appears that Johnny and his cohorts befriended players like you. To make you feel comfortable with the situation, they would let you win and lose a little before they then deliberately cheated you out what money they could. 

My dealings with you were always above board, and you proved to be an honest man who always intended paid his debt. After a little negotiation, I got Johnny to return the money he cheated from you, and got him to round it up to a nice hundred thousand for your troubles. Johnny and his friends aren't in the poker game anymore, for it's hard to play with broken fingers if you catch my drift. I hope you can overlook the incident with Lynn. It seemed a good idea at the time, but you are nice people and I shouldn't have taken advantage of the situation as I did. Hopefully the return of your money will go some way to compensate for your troubles and forgive my unprofessional behaviour.

Luke M"

I sat down on a dining chair and looked at the pile of money in complete astonishment; I thought it was gone forever. Lynn sat on my lap and placed her arms around me. We looked at each other for a few seconds before our lips touched, and tears began to roll down our faces. You might ask the question, were they tears of sadness or happiness? I don't think either of us could answer that. 



The Gambler and the Others



"Annabeth! Don't talk with your mouth full!" How many times does a girl hear that one growing up? Mothers. Little do they know...

Good thing she didn't say anything about thinking with my mouth full. Anyway, my poor mom. She saw just enough to drive me and herself crazy.

I had to admit though, at this very moment and confined as I was to the cramped space of his front seat, her words more than applied. But her admonishment, regardless of its obvious value, just wasn't the overriding issue on my mind. 

I was too preoccupied with my plan to extract the Sicilian from the clutches of the others. 

The problem stemmed from the fact that I had fallen for this one with my full emotional weight. As with any addiction it had struck in a single heartbeat, leaving me struggling to breathe through the passion which had wrapped itself tightly around me.

That was the first part of the problem anyway; a whole half, so to speak. The second was obsession; mine, with three women. Women he was having sex with -- three women in addition to me that is -- three that I knew of.

He made no secret of them so I had understood from the beginning who they were and when he saw them. The only surprising thing was that I allowed him to reveal it all to me; all the lurid details of his sexual encounters, thereby transforming myself into a ready-made spillway for his fantasies; someone available not only for sex, but to whom he could tell all while fucking me. 

I know, I know; a woman shouldn't stand for it. Well, in truth, I used to think that but not anymore. I now firmly believe we'll sit by and take anything. Of course, I had allowed it all to happen, so I should know.

Want to know the deal? I'll tell you: I could have sex with him and with his approval, with anyone I wished; which I didn't take advantage of for lack of interest. In exchange, I took on an assignment of sorts, playing 'Keyhole Kate.' In other words, he permitted me to peek into his erotic world, where I could clearly see the others and what he was doing with them. 

The fact that I was even permitting it frightened me. After all, why was I giving so much away? But the entire relationship was frightening because it - that is I - was so out of control. My God, I'd do anything for him. What was I thinking?

Voyeuristic to the core, I so willingly took the bait and transformed myself into a sounding board off which he could bounce his erotic experiences involving other women. It was as if I stood outside a transparent bubble, watching him have sex within. I was visible to him but not to the women he was with...or at least, that's what he said. Let's start with Marilyn, the divorcee with two young children. The boys slept in another room while their mother and Edmond did it in hers. That little fact didn't seem to bother him one way or another. Why would it? He was getting laid and had no responsibility for her kids. They meant nothing to him which I liked, because I didn't want them to. 

The fact that I didn't like her is something I admitted to myself but never to him. I mean, I really didn't like her. She was a know-it-all par excellence from her bottom up, as they say. The worrisome thing was that like him, she was smart. His intellectual equal, and mine, for that matter - she would be trouble. 

She was also a notorious man-eater and had gobbled up numerous boyfriends and two husbands amidst a litany of countless affairs. Everybody knew about her. She was a slut.

To complicate matters even more, she was beautiful. Flawless white skin, long legs and a more-than-available body that dripped sensuality; you know, things that attracted men who responded like lemmings, jumping to their deaths just because everyone else was. There was simply no one she hadn't fucked. 

Always on the look-out for lucrative prey, she had locked her tractor beam onto him. They fucked often and I knew it because he told me. They had done it their second time out - outside of work that is. That's Marilyn -- the bitch.

Now, Diana. She was a biologist and a highly skilled academic, just like him. Her spectacular hour glass shape and perky boobs served her well. She was pretty too, with freckles. Can you stand it? I'm not saying I hate freckles as I have them too but I hated them on her. Fortunately, he despised science. 

A wholesome-looking country girl, she lived in a small rural town nearby. With her shoulder length strawberry blonde hair, big blue eyes and perfect figure, she was madly in love with him. Who wouldn't be? He was beautiful, articulate, intelligent to a fault and learned. 

Interestingly, I knew the taste of Diana's mouth because twice - twice - I had sucked his succulent cock only hours after she had and I'm sure he assumed I found comfort in the fact that it was 'just the three of us.' I wondered whether she had ever found herself in a similar position, following in my wake and perhaps sampling my body's flavor. So intimate, don't you think?

But the poor thing couldn't connect the dots; despite her storied education he could run cerebral rings around her. To compensate, she played trickster, a human fucking machine who screwed him like the proverbial Energizer Bunny, doing it all at his convenience, whenever and wherever he happened to be in the mood. She just kept going and going and...well, you understand.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I learned that she made mistakes; insisting on condoms for one thing, something men in general and he in particular detested. She also denied him, shall we say, full blown fellatio? We all make errors in judgment with men, but really, you've got to be kidding.

Big mistake, I thought, because condoms diminish affection's definitive realization; a man bequeathing his seed to his woman. 

And as for fellatio to completion...well, need I go there? I don't think so, because men only recognize two kinds of women; those who do and those who don't. Everybody knows that - well, almost everybody, because Diana was an imbecile and missed it completely.

I mused at what a fool she was. But still it bothered me because he liked her enough to maintain the relationship since her physical reaction to having sex with him contained a remarkable and crucial component. She came as soon as he touched her down there. 

She played showgirl, grinding her pelvis against him, meeting his every thrust with her own, all in the midst of a one sided screaming match that had nearly frightened him to death upon first encountering it. At least, that's what he said. She could have been acting, but then there was no way for me to be sure. 

Awkwardly, Diana and I had met once, rather unexpectedly - at the hospital of all places. Having left work, I was still wearing my uniform from the restaurant where I waited tables. He had had a minor procedure done -- on that precious penis, of all things, and I had stopped by on my way home, thinking I could get a few minutes of alone time with him. Let's face it, alone time is hard to come by with a guy who's fucking a herd of women. Anyway, when I walked in she was sitting there. Shit. 

What can I say? It was awkward. He introduced us of course and with two vying females in the little room, it wasn't hard to sense his discomfort -- not to mention our own. Giving her an artfully practiced cold shoulder, I ensured she didn't stay long and after she left, I lightened up. 

It was a risky maneuver I know, because he immediately recognized what I was up to and gave me a look that said "I'm annoyed." But he didn't make it an issue which I thought was telling. He was fucking me too, remember and anyway, it worked because she left. What a wimp.

I didn't overly concern myself about this one because of the oral thing. In the end, a guy will almost always go with the girl who does 'all the way' blowjobs; the only ones that really "count", and let's not kid ourselves - men count. 

She had failed to grasp the fact that just sucking cock carried little cash value so I knew she wouldn't last. Diana just didn't have enough to hold on to him, but she did divert his attentions away from me when his urges drifted in her direction. She was the weakest link in his sexual chain and I decided she would be the first to go -- and quickly. The trouble was, he liked variety.

Then there was that Sharon girl in Ohio. She was some hotshot manager for a sizable accounting firm and their broiling affair had begun at Kent State University. I had caught a glimpse of her recently when she unexpectedly visited him in New York. All right, so I was spying but a girl has to know these things, doesn't she?

He said he was surprised when she showed up. "I happened to be in the vicinity and figured I'd just drop by," she'd said jokily, conveniently disregarding the fact that she lived five hundred miles away! 

Yeah right; "...just happened to be in the vicinity." I mean, come on. Even a man wouldn't fall for that one. But he was flattered by her effort. After all, he was the reason she'd done it; he knew that. Next life? I'm coming back as a man. I've already decided.

Sharon was also divorced but didn't have children. She was cute, with her waist-length brown hair, large boobs considering her petite size and the skin of Snow White. She would be trouble up the road because she had "I'm in love with this guy" written all over her beaming face. I didn't like her right off.

All of this left me with a predicament: How to be a rarity? Being one meant not being like most women. And most women were afraid to know the lurid details of a man's intimate relations with others. So I gambled, imagining that he, like most men, thought that I, like most women, at least most of the time, would respond like most women and wouldn't want to know about the others. 

But this wasn't most of the time, now was it? I wanted this guy, so I needed information and used my time with him to find out about his steamy intimacies. 

The gamble was simple enough: in the end, theoretically anyway, I'd know the three contenders and they wouldn't know me. They'd be overly confident in themselves and wouldn't bother with one another...with the part about them not knowing me being a tad tricky, of course. 

Yes, he had promised that if I listened he'd keep our sexual relationship secret, which I liked, but you just never knew with these things because if he had an urge, he might just tell them about me. Anyway, as you can see, it was a tangled web.

It didn't take long before he revealed the details of his relationship with Sharon. I learned they had lived together in Kent and he characterized her as the absolute superlative fellatio queen.

"Do you want to know what she's like? Sexually?" he had asked one evening, with a twinkle in his brilliant eyes. 

With my instincts saying 'fuck no,' I answered assuredly, "Yes, tell me...tell me what Sharon does to you." 

It was a gently demanding response and he seemed a little surprised by it - but only a little, since at that particular moment his cock was buried deep in my pussy so, well you know how it is, he thought he had a certain control over things. Sex can be so powerful, I reflected, all the while wondering whether he was pulling the same act with the others.

We did it twice that night. And the second time - God, how he adored the slurpy smooth sensation of the second time, when his own semen starred in the lead role of nature's ultimate slippery stuff - I presented my question just as he began sliding his beautiful erection in and out of my inviting sex. 

Second times are sloppy. He liked things sloppy and I always saw that he got it. Guess I'll never be accused of being Miss Goody Two Shoes.

He paused a moment and didn't answer immediately, so I ceased moving under him. In fact, everything paused, all sex, all thought.

"What? You expect me to answer that right now?" he asked with a hint of incredulity and just a touch of humor in his deep voice.

"Yes, now!" I gasped. "Tell me Edmond, what does she do to you? I want to know -- now -- the details." Honestly, how men enjoy our reactions to their conquests, especially amidst the influence of passion. 

From that moment I found myself almost always asking him questions during sex, when his emotions peaked, momentarily cornering the measured intellect men picture themselves in such control of. Anyway, he was usually off balance then so although the circumstances may have been a shade awkward, my timing was perfect.

Of course, men lie at times about what women do, but not always and if I'm in one of my more discerning moods I can still ferret out the truth. Anyway, I searched hard for it because I wanted him more than they did. That should be obvious enough.

He plunged deeply into me as I presented my demand and I locked my legs around his little butt to keep him there until I got an answer. 

"She's my cum queen," he blurted breathlessly, sweat pouring from his luscious body. "She... lights candles all round the bed, plays music in the background and sucks me to the rhythm of the sound."

"Really?" I asked, acting marginally startled. "So, silly boy, she plays you like a flute?"

He looked at me curiously, but half-laughed anyway.

"Do you come in her mouth?" I continued as he pounded my womb, knowing he loved that little act - at least he did with me. 

Groaning into my swollen lips he answered, "Yes, I do -- I come in her mouth. Why, are you surprised?"

"No darling, I'm not surprised. Sharon, or whoever she is" - I lied and acted like I'd never seen her -- "knows, like I do, that you cherish having your cock sucked. Tell me more."

"And she's relentless," he breathed, "sucks me like she's a machine that can't get enough."

"Does she swallow?"

"Yeah, she swallows. She's done me twice in one night. Swallowed both times..."

"You like that. I know you like that," I answered, nursing his earlobe with my mouth.

In the weeks that followed, I probed about the others. It was like piecing together a sexual riddle and I learned how an especially astute man resolved what might otherwise have been little more than a prurient bewilderment as he sought each of us out on differing erotic grounds, finding a dissimilar intimate act that each was either good at or was at least willing to perform without complaint. 

My goal in all this was to draw the others into myself, to replace them one by one by embracing -- no, by stealing - their special talents. After that, well, we'd just have to see... 

In the past, guys had always been so disposable. I had never come across someone this complex; a man I craved to have entirely for myself. I mean, this was serious and even though I really didn't give a good shit about what kinds of kinky things other women did with him, I obsessed in two-part harmony; infiltrating his relationships and breaking the bonds he had developed with the others. 

I did it because this Sicilian wasn't like other men I'd known. "Known." I like that word. Anyway, unlike the array of characters I had previously "known," I looked up to him and realized replacing the other three would entail becoming Wonder Woman, which frankly, I wasn't certain I could transform myself into but simply had to bet that I could. 

To make matters worse, today was a time of agitation; the day I would return to campus, placing him out of reach for a week. I struggled with that quandary while at the same time attempting to assemble his complex puzzle, my mind racing through the cast of characters he was seeing:

Marilyn, the bitch, could orgasm through anal. I despised her for it. Naturally not all women can even accommodate a man anally, let alone orgasm back there. To complicate matters, with her there was an additional singularity because she could only climax through anal. He considered it special and I didn't like special that didn't involve me.

An ass backwards kind of girl, her willingness to play rough along the dirt road drew him back to her time and again. He always came in her ass and she never, ever wanted vaginal sex. What's with that, I wondered?

Since I didn't know whether I could ever orgasm that way, I knew fathoming her designs presented tortuous challenges. Anyway, there was only one way to find out whether I could do what she did.

Marilyn assumed the unthinkable; that he only did back door with her, something that was about to change. Foolish girl.

She was lanky and slender, her boobs were small, which he didn't like but I didn't make much of that since men will suck whatever they're presented with at any given moment. Though I didn't have the latter problem, I still had to learn anal which I hadn't yet done, at least not deeply.

From Ohio's Sharon he received some alien form of relentless, industrial strength, vacuum-style blowjob which she wouldn't allow to end until she'd not only gobbled him, but until he was completely spent, flaccid, with her having taken every drop of precum, cum and post cum! She was his swallower. You can only imagine my response to Sharon; I swallowed.

Diana, despite making the mistake of insisting he use condoms, fucked him unrelentingly and her orgasms arrived in lockstep time; a seamless wave of ecstasy during which she squealed like a triumphant pig. 

Her behavior was something that pleased the Sicilian who frankly had a thing about seeing his women writhing in exaltation under him, and Diana squirmed like an Olympic gymnast, allowing him to feel her rectum contract around his penetrating finger as she came. Essentially, I learned if he was in her, she was climaxing. In addition, she was beautiful - fuck. Thank god for condoms.

I couldn't believe I was even having these thoughts at a moment like this. With only a short time remaining before having to drive back to college, I had met him in our usual spot; the parking lot behind the apartment complex. 

We had arrived within minutes of one another, and he quickly spotted my car and pulled up next to me. Looking over, he smiled that warm smile that so captivated me.

Due to the security cameras we were awfully exposed in the big lot, and I shouldn't have been overly ambitious. But then, shit - I just didn't care who saw us and after slipping into his car we talked a little, lamenting our pending separation. I kissed him a little, just to get him hard and I worked his balls a little - only through his pants, which he always enjoyed. Oh, one other thing I neglected to mention about the others: they forget the balls. I never do. 

Unfortunately, the three women would likely see him during my week away at school. I'd ruminate in my dorm as they sucked his cock, with each maintaining her fourth of him when it all ended. By the time I get back, a sexual eternity will have passed, I thought, and I didn't want to run the risk of being just another pretty face in his overly bountiful - by three - feline shuffle.

But by the time that little thought crossed my chaotic mind, I could feel him getting close and I wrapped my lips more tightly around the base of his cock, which was long and hard and which I had drawn deeply into my open throat. I loved its taste, its masculine strength and I sucked him harder than I had sucked any man -- ever! Fortunately, this time he tasted of a recent shower instead of Diana. Thank you Jesus.

With my mouth already awash in the yummiest precum, his body suddenly stiffened and I found myself hating the confining space of the car where I had competition not only from the streaming images of the very penis I was devouring withdrawing wet and glistening from one or more of the other women's orifices, but from the fucking gear shift of all things. 

Oh shit, I could feel it as each precious spout of semen slammed the back of my throat and I swallowed each in turn - as quickly as it struck, allowing none to escape, knowing as Sharon did that their medicinal qualities would sustain me during the frustrating days to come.




The Gambler and the Others



Remaining in perfect stillness for several minutes, I gently worked the bottom of my thumb up the underside of his cock, patiently driving the last hot pearls from his shaft. His cum spent, I took his final drops onto my tongue, sucked hard as I drew myself away from his lustrous member which departed my receptive mouth with a slight 'pop' as I lifted my head away. 

Smiling, I opened my mouth wide for his viewing pleasure, revealing the remnants of his white essence resting on my tongue like a layer of overly warmed Cool Whip. 

Seeing it as an affectionate gesture, I always ended his blowjobs in similar fashion and just knew he loved it. He smiled in return and drew me to him for a deep kiss as I plunged my tongue into him, still coated as it was with his special gift. "Will you want my ass next week, Mr. Sicilian?" I asked demurely, clearing my throat. 

He looked down at me as if not comprehending the question so I repeated it. "Will you want anal, Edmond?"

Without saying a word, but with unequivocal affirmation written across his handsome face, he nodded as I licked my sticky lips for him, consuming any remnants and assuring both him and myself that I would spend the long drive back to school with his taste and scent fresh in my mouth and clinging to my welcoming throat.

In parting I gave him a final peck on the cheek before I grabbed my purse and reached for the handle of the door. Looking back to him I murmured, "Next week, sweetheart?"

End