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The Loft

By: midniteblueflier



Like a hot wind on a hot summer day, Helen went blasting into the loft where Bill, Roy, Pete and Nick sat wearing as little as possible to beat the heat.

She too isn't wearing much, a partial see thru blouse tied up under her large breasts and a pair of cut short jeans. She stood in their midst.

As they watched her, she began a little dance as she unhooked the top of her shorts, slide down the zipper and slowly pushed her shorts down with a frolicsome smile.

She turned slowly so that everyone could get a good view of her untanned pale outline of the thong she wears when sunbathing.

Naked she wiggled her ass and jiggled her tits, a few seductive moves of her hips and the temperature of the room rose still a few degrees.

She glides from one in whose face she had been wiggling her ass and to another who got a real close up of her pus as she did a half squat in front of him.

Soon she was down on her knees with the men swarmed around her with their pants down and their half hard wads sticking out of their undies. One wad made it to her mouth.

She sucked on it for a short while then went on to another, a hand slides between her slightly parted thighs That she quickly open to give easy access to her cunt.

She became aware of the first cock she had been sucking playing with her ear, to her surprise it excited her to feel the smooth moist head sliding over and in her ear,

In her excitement, she sucked harder on the wad in her mouth, pressed her pus down hard on the hand between her thighs fondling her moist pus.

She soon turned, took the wad that had been taunting her ears in her mouth, to give it a rewarding suck while the one she had been sucking teases her neck.

She took the entire head in her mouth. She began to move her head back and forth, her hand pump at the large shaft and the hand at her cunt stimulate her clit.

Cheered on by the others, Helen went at the wad fucking her mouth full force, big strong hands held her head in place as he rammed her mouth.

Deep into her mouth, as deep as he could go, he rammed in and out, at the same time a long finger slid up her wet cunt and began to fuck her.

Again a switch was made as another moved in to enjoy her hot mouth on his cock, this one was huge she really had to open her mouth just to get the head in, but took it she did and began to beat it with her tongue as two fingers were fucking her cunt and hands were fondling her tits.

Slowly her mouth was being fuck by the immense wad that crept deep into her mouth, mere seconds later she felt it harden, it began to throb and she felt it spat out its hot thick fluid into her mouth, it came out in small squirts that she was able to swallow. So swallowed she did.

From the floor to the sofa. Someone moved in to get sucked by her, the one that had been playing with her cunt continued, still another moved in behind her.

As she sucked on the slender rod and fondled his big balls through his pants, she felt the weight of a hard cock settle in the crevice of her ass, it slides back and forth for a few thrilling strokes before it slides down so that its next inward stroke sends the large head tantalizingly into her slippery cunt.

A muffled whine escaped her full mouth as the stiff rod glide ever so dreamily into her body. She felt as if she was in a dream.

With hands roaming over her body, a stiff cock fucking her mouth, another fucking her cunt and her hand pumping another, she was in paradise.

Rapidly the stiff hard pricks slide in and out of her wet hot mouth and equally wet hot pus, she delighted herself with the wondrous sensations that fills her body. Whining the best she could with her mouth full of the prick, she vocalized how fantastic she was feeling in the heat of her passion.

Hearing her moan so sweetly only excite the men more and entice Nick to give her more. Deep into her he pushed as he gyrates. She cried out.

The still gyrating he slowly pulls out until the head was at the mouth of her cunt. Then it rammed up into her as hard, as fast and as deep he could.

As fast as he could with short quick stabs, he fucks her. She lost control, she couldn't hold back anymore, like a whirl wind her orgasm had her head spinning.

Feeling her hot juices Nick too, lost it. He cried out as he began to flood her hole with his juice and that heightens her orgasm. 

Slowly he eased his flaccid cock out of her, instantly Bill was in his place, she moaned when she felt his huge shaft slide into her cum fill pussy,

But it was only to make it wet and slippery, for he reared back and let it slip out, she felt it at the mouth of her ass, felt it push in, felt it stretch her.

It slides in easily enough but not without the dull pain as her ass stretch to take it, stretch as only he could stretch her.

Steadily his huge shaft slides into her tight aching hole, and she dug her fingers into the sofa, clenching her teeth tight. Slowly she felt him pulled out of her.

He laid back on the sofa, she squat over him, he held his cock erect and she lowed herself down on it, in bliss she sighs as it eased into her cunt.

The others swarmed around, she took a prick in her hand and one in her mouth as Bill was thrusting in and out of her, another as feeling her off.

In a short while she made a switch between the cock she had been sucking and the one she had been pumping, Bill continued to thrust up and down under her. 

Helen was in heaven as the four men gave her all of their attention in their own special way, she was basking in delight in the attention they gave her.

Drawing pleasure from the stiff hard rod in her hand. Being blissful over the hunk of meat in her mouth. Being ecstatic by the piston in her shaft.

She was lifted still to a higher level of ecstasy when they turned her around and a stiff rod eased delightfully into her ass, no pain just sheer pleasures.

Indescribable was the enjoyment of having to stiff rock hard cocks moving in her body at the same time, sliding deep up her tubes.

Then they switched rhythm, one slid in as the other slide out, they moved against each other, is it any wonder she was in a storm of sensations.

A storm that lift her to the very heights of her pleasures. A storm that had her squirming madly between them as she came and they flood her with their juice. Weak, well satisfied, full of cum that leaked from her ass and cunt she slithers down to the floor with her head back on the sofa as Nick stood in front of her pumping his rod. 

Eagerly she waits for his hot precious nectar to flow into her open mouth. When he did cum his flow was slow, it shot in her mouth and she drank it down, he filled her mouth for a second time and that too, she swallowed.

Now she was truly full and satisfied, she licked at what little had missed her mouth... 

She dressed and like a cool summer breeze a very contented Helen glides out of the loft. 

The Loft



Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy the story! Also, a big thank you to MarieWriter for her excellent work in editing for me.

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

Between my junior and senior years at university, I spent the summer tending my next door neighbor's stall at Pike Place Market in Seattle. Mr. Williams had been newly diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis and was told to work less, and I wanted to earn money to move out of my parent's house by autumn. It was a win-win situation. Plus, the market is a really colorful, incredibly interesting place to people watch, and as an aspiring writer, that was one of my favorite pastimes.

Mr. Williams went with me the first few days I was on the job to introduce me to all of the other sellers and ensure I could handle the traffic. The market gets crowded with tourists and locals alike during the summer months, and the little wooden trinket and jewelry boxes he made out of local cedar were popular. But all the vendors were really friendly and there was a great sense of camaraderie, so I wasn't worried about whether I could manage.

The stall across the aisle belonged to a watercolor artist named James who sold spectacular prints of Seattle and the San Juan islands. His work was really popular, too, and foot traffic had a tendency to bottleneck around our tables.

James only tended his wares Monday through Wednesday, and the other days, he paid a guy named Wesley to sell his work. Wesley had longish blond hair and looked like a prettier version of Kurt Cobain, except without all of the angst and suicide. It was the late 90's, so hiring Wesley was an especially astute move on James' part.

I got a fair amount of attention from visitors because of my looks, too. My mom is Japanese and my dad is of Irish descent, so I ended up with those nonspecific 'Eurasian' features that make people look twice. But it was from Wesley that I learned how to charm and flirt with potential customers, both men and women, who dared to make eye contact with me.

When it wasn't too busy, he and I even made a game of it, choosing random people out of the crowd for the other to attempt to close a sale with. It wasn't mean spirited, we were just having fun and trying to keep ourselves entertained. What I didn't realize when I took the job was even a steady stream of fresh-cut flowers and live music and foreign accents could get a little tedious after a while.

A month and a half in, on a Tuesday evening, James came over when he was done packing up his boxes of prints and asked if I'd be interested in sitting for him. "Like, posing for you? While you paint?" I asked.

"It would just be for preliminary sketches, but yes."

"I didn't know you painted people." I'd only seen the landscapes he'd created to sell at the market.

He ducked his head a bit and smiled. "I haven't for a long time. I got lazy, actually. It's easier to paint some pictures of the city and make money off selling the prints to tourists. But I've had this idea that was inspired by you, Kate, and I feel like if I don't try to paint it, I might go crazy. Maura said I should just ask you to sit for me and get it over with."

Maura was his wife, a lovely woman who worked swing shift up at the hospital on the hill. She often hung out with James and his paintings in the morning before work.

"Would I be naked?"

He actually blushed a bit. "In my vision you are, but not in a tasteless way. I don't do pornography. What I have in mind is a bit..." he paused a minute to choose his words, "sensual and provocative, but not explicit in any way. And if you weren't comfortable with it, you could just say stop and it would be over. I can always find a girl from over at the Art Institute. They have a pool of models to choose from."

I'd never been naked in front of someone who just wanted to look at me, and the thought of being examined and captured on paper made me suddenly shy. In spite of that, a weird flurry of jealousy erupted that some random girl might pose for paintings inspired by me.

"Can I think about it?"

"Of course!" He seemed excited that I was even considering it. "I'd like to start as soon as possible, but I understand it's a strange request. I hope you're not put off by my asking."

"Nah," I said. "I know your wife, I know you're actually a painter, and it's not like you're a dirty old man or anything."

James smiled a little. "I wouldn't say that. All males have a dirty old man in them, even teenage boys. But I promise I won't touch you. You'll be completely safe."

It was a strange sort of reassurance, and I wasn't sure whether to laugh or nod solemnly.

His request was all I could think about that night. I called my friend Tina to talk about it and she said I should, "Totally do it."

She thought it was hot to get naked in front of an older man, and most of her questions were about James and what he looked like. She didn't believe me when I said he was completely average, with short salt and pepper hair and a preference for band tee-shirts and well-worn jeans. Typical Seattleite.

And Tina didn't particularly care about the art aspect, but she was ready to jump a plane from San Diego to offer herself up in my place.

"Is he going to pay you?" she asked.

"Don't know. He didn't mention it. Should I ask for pay? That might make it feel more legitimate."

She sighed over the line. "He's a known artist, Kate. It's already legitimate."

I couldn't really argue with her rational, and by the time I went to bed that night, I'd decided to do it.

**

James was ecstatic. So excited he asked if I'd go to his and Maura's loft that evening after closing up shop to get started. "It'll only be about an hour, probably," he said. "And I completely forgot to tell you I'll give you $50 an hour for your time."

I didn't know if that was a little or a lot in the world of art models, but it was way more than the fifteen bucks an hour I was making hawking wooden boxes. I thanked him and got on with my day, all the while with this nervous anticipation of engaging in something completely new and a little bit naughty. I didn't know what James' idea of sensual or provocative was, and my imagination distracted me with all the possibilities.

After everything was packed up for the day, we stopped for a quick meal of pelmeni from the Russian food stand, then walked to his and Maura's loft, which was two blocks up on the top floor over some shops. Maura once told me they replaced their suburban home with the loft downtown to keep them young after their boys went away to university. They both struck me as fairly young, anyway. I wouldn't have guessed they had grown children.

The loft had high ceilings and exposed brick walls that were lit by a wall of windows facing out onto Second Avenue. To the right was a small galley style kitchen with stools pushed up to an island countertop that worked as their dining area. Beyond was a living room section with worn brown leather couch, rocking chair, and small TV, and a curtain enclosed nook that housed their bed.

Tucked off to the left of the loft near the windows was James' painting area. A large workbench was pushed against the brick with shelves bolted into the wall above it. A colorful array of jars and paintbrushes and tin boxes took up most of the shelf space.

The thing in the loft that particularly caught my eye was a large painting of a nude lounging on a pile of pillows that could only have been Maura. It was absolutely beautiful, with muted colors and a feeling of ethereal light floating around her.

Any remaining hesitation I had went straight out the window.

"That painting is amazing," I said, gesturing to it.

James gazed at it with unbridled love. "Successful painting has everything to do with inspiration. This one's nearly twenty five years old," he said. "Maura's the first and only model I ever touched. We got married not long after I finished it."

He seemed lost in thought, so I checked out the rest of the art on the walls, mostly souvenirs from their travels.

Finally, he turned away from the painting and led me to his artist's corner. With a dramatic flourish, he whipped a patchwork quilt off of a blue velvet chaise longue that rested parallel to the window.

"Sunlight is hell on velvet," he said by way of explanation.

I didn't know much about furniture, but it looked antique, or maybe it was a reproduction. I made a mental note to research historic furniture styles at some point in the future. It had a curved backrest on the left end and a low back that tapered out halfway down its length.

"The bathroom is through there," he said, pointing to the blue door by his workbench. Its color matched the chaise. He grabbed a knit throw off the couch and tossed it to me. "You can cover up with this while I get everything together. It won't take but a minute."

"Okay." I tried to sound cheery, but my nerves were getting to me again because this was almost the moment of truth. I was about to expose myself to a man I mostly knew by reputation, who had already admitted he was part dirty old man by merit of gender, if not actual experience.

Just go with it. I reminded myself I could leave any time I wanted and never come back. At the very least, it would be something to write about in the future.

The bathroom was tiny and the only place to leave my clothes was folded on top of the hamper. I wrapped up in the grey throw and mumbled a parsed Hail Mary. I'd long forgotten the words.

When I opened the bathroom door, James was at his workbench and said, "I think I'll have you start on the chaise." He gestured with a pencil and pulled a stool around between the chaise and the window. He held up a short red scarf. "This is part of what I imagined, but I want to make sure you're comfortable before you put it on."

"What is it?"

"A blindfold."

He saw the alarm in my eyes and said, "It's not necessary, just part of the provocative aspect of the scene. It gives the sense that you've given up part of your control, or someone's taken it from you, even though in actuality, you have complete control."

"Uhhh..." I wasn't sure what to say about that. "Can we just start without it?"

"Of course. Whatever you want. Come around here and lie belly down with your feet at the headrest. We're putting you upside down and backwards. Knees bent, upper body propped up on elbows, chin resting on hands. Got it?"

I was still flustered about the red blindfold, but I awkwardly took my position on the chaise, throwing the blanket off at the last minute. It got stuck under my thighs and I felt incredibly unsexy as I wrenched it out.

James just chuckled. "Relax, Kate. You're fine. You're a beautiful girl and you've nothing to be ashamed of."

I looked down at my breasts, which were pressed into the velvet of the chaise, thank goodness. Really, my bare ass was the only thing I wouldn't have had on display if I were laying on the beach instead of the chaise, so I didn't feel terribly exposed.

James went to work, his pencil flying over the art pad he was holding.

For twenty minutes, I held still and he sketched away, moving to different positions a couple of times for new perspectives.

I wished I couldn't see the clock on the wall because time seemed to drag by. At around the twenty three minute mark I started thinking maybe the art modeling business wasn't so glamorous or naughty after all.

Finally, James said, "Alright. Let's reverse and you can lay back on the pillow."

I almost fell off the chaise because my back was so stiff. On the bright side, I was too worried about not falling to be concerned about my nudity. I lay back on the high end of the chaise against the blue velvet pillow.

James didn't give me a chance to be modest. "Left arm resting over your head, left knee up against the back of the chaise, right leg straight, right hand resting on your low belly."

True to his word, he didn't touch, but he was very particular about where I was positioned, right down to my fingers. It took a few minutes of repositioning until he was satisfied. After five minutes, he said, "This isn't working. Right leg down over the edge of the chaise, please."

Right leg over the chaise meant I was opening my crotch up to his view. Not wide open, but enough.

James raised an eyebrow. "Are you ready for the blindfold yet?"

At that point, the blindfold was appealing because it meant I didn't have to see him looking at me, which was clearly not a big deal to him. I guess he knew that.

"Give me the scarf," I said.

He grinned and tossed it to me. "Just tie it at the back. Not too tight or it'll start to annoy you." I didn't ask how he knew that.

I tied the thing over my hair at the back of my head and resumed my previous position, lowering my right leg off the edge of the narrow couch last.

A strange thing happened with my vision taken away. I became aware of everything else happening around me, times one hundred.

The scratch-scratch of pencil lead on paper.

The muffled sound of traffic outside.

A weird, rhythmic wheezy sound. "Do you have a pet?"

"Yes. That's Crowley you hear breathing. He's Persian."

I was aware of the warm knap of the velvet under me and the cool air of the loft drifting softly over the rest of me, exciting invisible hairs. I heard my heartbeat in my ears and felt my blood moving all the way down to my toes.

"How do you feel?" James asked, and for a split second I wondered if he could read my mind.

"Fine. Good."

He chuckled. "Come on, Kate. I thought you said you were an aspiring writer. Use your words."

What did I feel? When I considered all of the extraordinary sensory awareness, it was like someone had switched me on. Had turned me up to 11. "I feel like a 21 year old newborn, if that makes any sense. Open. Alive."

"It makes perfect sense," he said, and then nothing more for the rest of the hour.

When he was finished, he said, "Why don't you go get dressed, then I'll show you what I've got so far."

I did as I was told and when I returned to the front room, James had his sketches spread out on his workbench.

I was immediately confused. The woman in the pictures had silky dark hair, long legs and big boobs. She had a small waist and seductively curved hips.

She had a great ass.

"That's not me," I said.

He laughed. "Sure it is."

"No, really. I don't look like that."

James cocked his head to the side. "When was the last time you looked at yourself in the mirror while naked?"

I felt myself blushing. I didn't actively avoid it, but nothing good had ever come from examining myself in the nude. "Not recently."

"You should give it a try. You might be surprised. Or you can just look at my drawings." He studied them for a moment. "I really am quite good, aren't I?"

I rolled my eyes. "And so modest." When I had my fill of looking at the woman who he claimed was me, I grabbed my backpack and headed for the door.

"Wait," James said. "I've got money for you."

I had forgotten all about the fifty bucks, and I didn't feel right taking it. Wasn't quite sure why. "No, you keep it."

"How about I save it for you in case you change your mind," he offered.

"Whatever."

"Same time next week?"

"Sure. See you at the Market."

It was getting dark by the time my bus came, and I nearly missed it because I was so lost in replaying every moment in the loft. My brain was still on overload, and my body felt primed for something that wasn't going to happen. Somehow, I was disappointed.

**

The next week passed quickly, and before I knew it, Wednesday evening had arrived. James and I shared a ham and cheese baguette from Le Panier before heading over to the loft.

When I stepped through the door, his first finished painting from the week before was waiting propped against a stool just inside the door. He'd clearly planned a grand entrance.

It was the one with me splayed on the couch with my leg hanging over the edge and it was stunning. Somehow I appeared both innocent and erotic, and I understood then the value of the blindfold in creating his vision of provocation.

I couldn't believe he'd made me look so beautiful.

After seeing the painting, it was easier to drop the blanket in front of James and easier to pose, too. I tied on the blindfold straight away and slipped into a sensual state of awareness. Hyperawareness, actually. My mind wandered as I listened to the scratching of lead on paper.

Toward the end of the hour, James asked, "What would you think about posing with someone else?"

"Who?"

"Wesley is looking for extra cash. You two would be attractive together, him the golden boy, you the dark haired beauty. Although, I have something less substantial in mind for him. As far as the painting goes."

What did that mean, less substantial? It sounded as though he'd already planned it all out in his head.

Also, it felt as though he was changing ground rules that we hadn't technically even established. There was only really one, after all, no touching.

Still, the idea of handsome, charming Wesley being there while I was feeling like I was in that moment was intriguing.

"Have you asked him yet?"

"No, I wanted to be sure you were alright with it."

"I guess so," I said, then wondered if I should have made him wait longer for an answer. Whether he would judge me for agreeing so quickly. "Nothing sexual, though."

"I told you I don't do pornographic, Kate. But it will be somewhat sexual, that's the nature of the provocation in this case. Nothing you don't want, though."

"Okay."

It was for art, after all.

**

That night I had second thoughts about posing with Wesley.

Whatever he said to James' proposal, things would be weird between us. How could they not be? Even if he didn't agree, he would know I was posing nude for James. He would wonder what the paintings were like and maybe develop his own ideas about how provocative they were.

If he did agree, and he and I posed together, most likely touching in some way, certainly seeing each other naked, how would I be able to look at him across the Market aisle on Thursday morning and every morning after?

How would everyone else not know something unusual had happened between us?

James had apparently called and asked him right after I left, because first thing the next morning, Wesley strolled up with a crooked smile saying, "So, Kate. I hear you've made a foray into the art world."

I wanted to dissolve into the concrete floor and never have to look at Wesley again. Instead my cheeks and everything down to my bellybutton, probably, reddened. I reminded myself I had nothing to be ashamed of. That there was a long list of girls at the Art Institute who did the same thing. "Yes. You should see the painting he finished. It's amazing."

"I'm sure it is," he said. "Do you really not care if I pose with you?"

I shrugged and tried to appear nonchalant, a difficult task when it felt as though the blood had drained entirely out of my brain and into my face. "It's nothing too crazy. Sexy in an artistic way. But not, you know, pornographic." So much for sounding like a sophisticated university student.

"That's what James said." Wesley leaned in until his face was near my right ear. "I'm going to tell him yes."

His breath ruffled the strands of hair that hung over my ear, tickling the shell. Caused goose bumps to rise on my already heated skin. Good God, it's really going to happen.

Wesley was a guy I had offhandedly fantasized about seeing naked since I'd met him, and this was probably the only way it was ever going to happen. I'd personally witnessed super-hot chicks asking him out right in the market, with actual shoppers competing for his attention. It was a running joke with Tara, the lady who sold hats in the stall next to me.




The Loft



I didn't know what came of all those girls, but I'd always felt kind of embarrassed for him. Which was stupid because he was a 20-something year old guy without any cares in the world. He was all about getting laid by super-hot chicks.

I was just happy at the thought of posing naked with him, even if I couldn't see him because of the blindfold.

The rest of that week and into the next, I tried to pretend that nothing was different, and that I wasn't anticipating what Wednesday evening would hold, but I was so distracted that my sales were down significantly. I felt bad for Mr. Williams because I wasn't really pulling my weight as sales-girl extraordinaire.

There was no help for it, though.

**

Wednesday, Wesley arrived early with salmon sandwiches for us all from The Market Café. After we closed up shop, the three of us walked together to the loft. Wesley linked arms with me, charming as usual, and I felt for a minute like I was something more than just the girl who worked across from him.

The first pose James had us in was almost identical to the first he'd had me do alone, belly down on the chaise with my legs bent up and my chin propped up on my hands. This time I wore the blindfold and Wesley sat on the backrest at the head of the lounge looking down at my back. There was no touching, but I could feel his presence looming behind me. How the air in the room changed with a third person added to the mix.

The next position was like the one he'd painted, me lying back with my left leg bent up and my right over the side. I was still blindfolded, and I heard James directing Wesley to climb over me, not touching, just hovering. Waiting.

There was one point of contact, on my outer thigh on the right where his leg met mine as he supported himself on the floor.

I tried not to think about how he'd have been able to see my pussy when he was taking his position, but I couldn't get it out of my head. I wondered if he had tried to steal a glance and what he thought of it if he did. I kept it trimmed short, but not shaved outright. I didn't want to feel like a little girl.

His head was not far over mine, and at one point he whispered, "You're really beautiful, Kate."

I couldn't help smiling, and I was grateful that he was trying to break the tension.

James asked, "How are you feeling now, Kate?"

I had gotten used to the whole blindfold thing, but the tension between Wesley and I was more arousing than I wanted to admit.

"Exposed," I said. The word summed up both my physical and mental state at that moment. What I didn't say was that I liked it. It was the kind of harmless naughtiness that I had imagined initially. Close to crossing lines, but not quite.

"Perhaps it's Wesley's turn for the blindfold," James said.

I was a little bit disappointed until James told us how he wanted us to pose, Wesley standing and me kneeling slightly to his right, hugging his thighs while looking back at James. Wesley put on a good show of not seeming concerned about the position, and I studiously avoided looking at his cock while nestling my body into his right leg. He wasn't a hairy guy, but I was aware of every tickling end that brushed against me.

In the final pose, my right cheek was pressed against his outer hip, my arms wrapped around his legs, and the only thing I was really aware of was his cock over my right shoulder. It was right there. I fought a compulsion to look at it, but I'd been the one blindfolded most of the time. I hadn't had a clear view of it. I wanted one.

"I'm sure he won't mind," James said after about ten minutes.

"What?"

"If you look. Will you mind if she looks, Wesley?"

"I...uh, no."

It was cute that Wesley was at a loss for words. I sat back on my heels and looked. He, of course, was still blindfolded, and James had already seen both of us naked, so I grabbed onto my sense of boldness and drank him in with my eyes.

He was only half mast when I started looking, but his cock rose as I watched, as if he could feel the touch of my gaze. I smiled, remembering what it was like the first time I wore the blindfold. He was probably in sensory overload, too.

"What do you want to do next?" James asked.

I blushed and looked over at James. "I'm not going to do anything. No touching, remember?"

"You can touch," Wesley said quickly. "Please, Kate. Touch me."

Holy shit, I thought. Things had taken a turn and I was surprisingly... glad. My own body was just as aroused as his, even if it didn't show so obviously. "But, James..."

"I don't mind," James said. "I like to watch."

Was that his dirty old man secret? He got off on watching, not touching? Did I really care?

Because Wesley's cock was right there, and I really wanted it in my mouth. So I walked around on my knees and centered myself in front of him. He jumped a bit when my hands touched him, but then relaxed back on his heels when I started stroking him.

The head of his cock was big, mushroom like. His shaft wasn't especially huge, but it had an elegant sort of curve, arching that bulbous head upwards. I wondered how it would feel inside of my pussy even as I opened my mouth to lick the drip of precum off of the tip. He moaned with that light touch, and I felt it resonate all the way down to my clit.

As soon as I slid my mouth over the head, his hand found my hair, his fingers tangled into the straight strands.

I licked around the crown, circled the tip before taking him in deeper.

I'd never had a gag reflex, and at that point in my life, giving good blow jobs was the only obvious benefit. I bobbed slowly onto him, taking him deeper until I could feel the head of his cock at the top of my throat. It was a tight fit, but I wanted to take it all. I pulled back, sucking and licking, then pushed my head more forcefully onto him. Wesley's hand tightened in my hair and he pushed me, too, until my lips were buried in his course pubes. I couldn't breathe, so I pulled back, and he almost immediately pushed himself fully in again.

"So good," he moaned.

It was then I remembered James. I turned my eyes left and saw him with his cock in hand, sitting back in his rolling desk chair, jacking himself slowly. His eyes were heavy and he looked every inch the dirty old man he'd admitted to being that first day.

It seemed he was a voyeur, and maybe that's what all artists are to one degree or another. They see, create, and show the world an interpretation of what they've seen.

James had shown me I was something of an exhibitionist.

I turned my attention back to Wesley, my eyes devouring his abs and chest while I swallowed his cock. My fingertips grazed his balls, big things that barely fit in my grip.

"Why don't you take off the blindfold?" James suggested.

Wesley ripped the scrap of fabric off and was staring down at me at split second later. "Oh, fuck... Kate." His hips bucked forward and he jammed himself deeper yet. He groaned, his eyes stuck on mine. "So fucking good..."

I desperately wanted to touch myself, I was so wet I wouldn't have been surprised if I was dripping on the rug.

"I don't think he's going to last," James said, his voice tight. "Where do you want his cum, Kate? Your tits or your mouth?"

Wesley moaned and tightened his grip in my hair.

I forced my head back, his cock leaving my lips with a wet pop. "Mouth." The idea of his cum dripping down my tits was hot, but I liked to swallow.

Not ten seconds later, I was. He jammed himself into my mouth with short thrusts, cum coating the back of my tongue, my throat. I held him there for long moments until his cock stopped pulsing, then sucked off the remains as he slipped out.

James was still in his chair, holding a cloth over his cock, so I guessed he'd finished, too.

"You two," he said, "are so damn hot."

Wesley ignored him and squatted down in front of me, his legs shaking. "Shit, Kate. I'm sorry, I didn't plan for that."

I wiped my mouth with the back of one hand and tried to smooth my hair with the other. "It's okay. I could have said no. I wanted to."

"You did?" He looked adorably confused, as if he hadn't just been a willing participant himself. As if it were just a strange dream, some theoretical event that might occur in the future.

It happened. I could still taste the evidence on the back of my tongue.

"Yeah, it's okay."

James disappeared into the bathroom, and Wesley and I just knelt there, him catching his breath, me so turned on I couldn't even feel especially embarrassed. I desperately needed an orgasm, but I wasn't going to ask for it.

When James came back, I hopped up and went into the bathroom. The lips of my pussy were swollen and wet, rubbing together as I moved. As soon as the door was closed, I dropped back down onto my knees on the little bath mat and started rubbing my clit. I shoved two fingers of my left hand in as deeply as I could, jammed them in and out to get myself off. After a minute, I clenched my teeth to keep from making a peep as I came around my fingers.

Christ. I cleaned myself up and was trying to even out my breathing as I got dressed. A part of me was worried they'd know what I was doing if I took too long, but another part wanted them to know. That girl living in me who liked being watched, who I hadn't even known existed until twenty minutes before.

Wesley was gone when I left the bathroom.

"I sent Wes home," James said. "I wanted to talk to you alone. To thank you."

"Thank me?"

He grinned, a bit sheepish. "I didn't plan for that either, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't hope. You're a gorgeous girl, Kate. I'd never cheat on Maura, but I'm grateful I got to watch you blow Wes. He's a lucky man."

I ducked my head with my own shy smile. "I probably shouldn't have done it, but I don't really regret it either."

"So will there be a next time?" He sounded expectant and I wasn't sure if he meant me blowing Wesley or posing for his sketches.

Did I mind either way? I was surprised to find I didn't.

"Yes, I'll be here next Wednesday."

**

I was anxious about seeing Wesley the next morning at the Market, but he was his usual self for the most part. He probably had random girls giving him blow jobs all the time.

I went with it, tried to focus more on my sales which had been down the week before. Every so often I'd look up and catch Wesley watching me, which had happened on occasion before, so I resorted to my usual tactic which was to pull funny faces until he was smiling.

The next Wednesday, James unveiled his completed painting of the two of us, and I understood what he meant by Wesley being 'less substantial'.

It was the pose with Wesley on all fours over me on the chaise. I was painted in warm creams and peaches with nearly blue black hair, the red scarf over my eyes and blue chaise the only real color standing out from the blurred wash of background. But Wesley had almost no color at all, just white paper and some pencil lines that made him look incomplete. Not exactly ghostly, just unfinished.

Certainly not golden, by any stretch.

And I guess that was the point. In the painting, I was real and full of rich color and life, and he was just the man wanting to take from me, maybe hoping to draw some of my color into him by eventually touching me. Or maybe we had just finished, and I had drained all of the color out of him, like some kind of succubus. Either way, James had given me all the power, all the depth, even though I was the one blindfolded.

The whole scene was incredibly sensual, though my breasts were the only thing that could technically make it rated R. It was the suggestion of what might happen that made it provocative.

"Wow," Wesley said. "You look really great, Kate. That's crazy good, James."

"I know," James said. "Maura said it's one of my best."

I wondered if he'd told his wife about what had happened between the three of us. Decided it didn't really matter.

"Well, let's get to it," James said, clapping his hands together as if it was another day at the office.

I grinned and got undressed in the bathroom, eyeing the little yellow bath mat where I'd forced an orgasm out of myself the week before. Would I do the same again at the end of the session? I shivered and clenched at the thought.

The first pose involved me straddling Wesley's stomach while lying on the patterned rug. I was high enough up that he clearly wasn't penetrating me, though after a minute I could feel his cock nudging at my right butt cheek.

I wore the blindfold but could feel Wesley's eyes on me. My nipples were so hard, my breasts ached to be touched almost as much as my pussy. But I sat still, my crotch pressed into the tanned skin of his abdomen, waiting for the next pose which I hoped would either have less or more contact because the tease of his hot body between my thighs was painfully unsatisfying.

Behind the safety of my blindfold, I envisioned myself slipping back, raising up and taking him inside me in one sudden move. Then he'd just be there. Would he freak out? Would he grab my hips and press deeper?

"You're looking flushed, Kate," James commented.

"I feel a bit warm," I said, pleased that I didn't sound as breathless as I felt.

"Why don't you get up and stretch. Wes, I want you lying back on the chaise for the next one."

I leaned to the right and swung my left leg off Wesley as I pulled down the blindfold. A wet spot slicked his skin where my crotch had been.

"Shit. I'm sorry," I said, attempting to wipe it away with my hand, but I only succeeded in spreading it around because it was too slippery.

Wesley didn't know what to do and looked like he was on the verge of a stroke, or on the verge of coming, but James just chuckled and threw me a clean paint rag off the top of a stack on his workbench. "You kids," he said, shaking his head.

Wesley managed to make his way to the chaise, his cock bobbing in front of him. It lay flat on his stomach when he took his position, and I didn't even pretend not to look this time.

James instructed me to climb over Wesley, caging him with my arms and legs. It was the reverse of the finished painting he'd shown us, though I was still the one blindfolded. But this time, my ass was in the air, my pussy on display. Not for long, though.

"Wes, raise your right leg up between hers. I want your leg to block the view of your bits and pieces."

His knee rose up and then his long thigh was nearly touching the place I most needed to be touched. I could feel the tantalizing heat from his skin in the short space between us, could feel the light tickle of his hair on my swollen lips.

This pose wasn't better than before, it was worse. It hinted at heat and hardness, but didn't give it away.

So I rocked back an inch and took it.

Wesley gave a little choked moan and pressed his leg right up against me.

"Now, now," James said, "I've still got some work to do. Simmer down."

I pinched my lips together, trying not to smile.

Wesley snapped, "You try simmering down with her like this. Jesus, Kate. You're killing me."

"What do you want from her?" James asked. I could hear his pencil flying over paper as he waited for the answer.

I thought Wesley wasn't going to play along when he said, "I want her to rub herself on me. Grind her wet pussy on my leg."

It took all I had not to.

James said, "You want her to come on your leg?"

"No, I want her to come on my cock, with me inside of her."

My heart raced as I envisioned that happening. Part of me wished the blindfold was gone so I could see the look on his face while he said those things, but I wondered if he was only able to because of the little red scrap of silk.

Guys his age were doers, not talkers.

James was satisfied with his answer and moved on to me next. "What about you, pretty Kate, young wordsmith. What do you want? And please don't disappoint."

I smiled at his challenge and tried to focus my mind on the words I thought would please him. "I want to rub my wet pussy all over Wesley's cock. Spread my slickness over every inch while I drag my fingernails over his balls."

Under me, I could hear Wesley's breathing picking up and his leg pressed against my pussy hard enough to pitch me off the edge of the chaise. I pressed back.

"What else?" James asked.

"I want to rub the head of his cock up and down my wet slit, while you watch. I want to sink down on his cock and fuck him until we all come."

That time when I stopped talking, the pencil was silent too,

"Are you on the pill, Kate?"

"Yes." I saw the pill as added protection against pregnancy, something I was definitely not ready for.

"Would you want a condom?"

"No." I just wanted Wesley inside of me, skin on skin as God intended. Though, He probably didn't intend it quite like that.

From under me, Wesley said, "Do it, Kate. I want you on me, surrounding me."

"Not bad, Wes," James said, dragging his little desk chair over. "Maybe she'll make a poet out of you yet."

I didn't know about that, but I did know I needed his leg out of the way so I could follow through with my fantasy.

I reached around and pushed his knee down, promptly setting my hot core on his belly, covering the length of his cock. Arching my back, I glided my pussy over him coating his cock in the slickness he had caused.

"So fucking wet," he moaned.

I reached down and grasped the base of his cock, rubbing that big head over my pussy as promised.

James was off to my left and to the back somewhere. I couldn't see him, but I suspected he'd positioned himself for the optimal view. "Are you ready?" I asked.

"Yes!" both men replied in chorus.

Wesley's cock was just as good as I'd hoped, spreading me inside as I sank down onto him.

"Can I touch you?" he asked.

I hadn't realized he'd been waiting for permission.

"Yes. Please."

He did grab my hips then, bruising pressure as he bucked his hips up, pushing himself deeper.

My head rocked forward and I started moving on him, assisted by his strong arms. I'd never been able to orgasm on top without touching my clit, so I slid a hand down and did what I needed.

I sensed James had gotten up from his chair, wandered around for a better view of me touching myself. Wesley reached up and pinched a nipple drawing a long, "Ahh..." from me.

He was good. He worked his cock into me, toyed with my nipples, and somehow managed not to come right away. I wanted to take the blindfold off to see what he looked like as he did all of those things, but I was afraid of ruining the moment. It was a huge turn on knowing two pairs of eyes were watching me and I couldn't watch back.

The thought got me tightening around him, my sheath clenched so I could feel every molecule of his head inside me, feel his hard shaft pushing it forward and back.

Wesley sat up then, sucked my nipple in his mouth and I just about came undone. "Yes, that! More!" His mouth moved roughly from side to side until everything in the center of my body clamped down, trying to make itself into a little ball around his cock.

I arched back with a loud cry and Wesley lay back again, jammed himself harder up into me. Fingertips dug into my hips and I felt his cock spasm inside, the hot flood of his cum filling me. He groaned as his hips thrust up, shattered, uneven, eventually slowing until my weight was pinning him down.

I propped myself up over Wesley on shaking arms. Breathing and my own heartbeat was the only thing I heard for several long minutes. Then the blindfold was being pulled off and I was blinking against the brightness of the loft.

When my eyes adjusted, I saw Wesley gazing up at me with something approaching reverence.




The Loft



I almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it.

I was sweaty and flushed and had just had sex with someone I didn't have a relationship with while a second man watched, and I knew I'd crossed that line I hadn't intended to cross. That I'd judged other girls for crossing in the past. That the Art Institute girls probably didn't even touch.

And somehow I just couldn't locate my own sense of shame.

"That was incredible," Wesley said.

"It was," I confirmed.

"It was," James agreed.

My laugh finally broke free and I laughed so hard Wesley slipped out of me and I was probably leaking cum all over the chaise, but I just couldn't stop. I lay on Wesley laughing for a good five minutes until my abs ached and I couldn't anymore.

Wesley looked worried. "Was that a freak-out laugh or am I that funny?"

I grinned and my cheeks hurt. "Neither. I'm sorry, this is all just so strange. But I don't feel bad about it. Do you?"

Wesley smiled and shook his head. "I've had a crush on you since I first saw you, Kate. The only thing I feel bad about is that I didn't tell you before."

Wait. One. Minute.

Had the two of them planned this whole thing so he could have sex with me? Didn't he know I would have slept with him anyway?

He must have guessed what I was thinking because he took my hands and said, "I really didn't mean for this to happen, I meant it when I said that. James didn't know."

"I suspected," James said from over in the kitchen.

Wesley frowned. "I didn't know he suspected. I shouldn't have done this Kate. I like you. You're funny, you're smart, and you're sexy as all hell."

This was not what I expected to hear from Wesley, not after everything that had happened. But maybe I should have expected it. Talk about giving away the milk for free.

"I'm not looking for a boyfriend," I said. "But maybe I'll put you on the short list for when this whole art thing is over."

Wesley looked confused.

"I'm planning to keep working with James until he finishes his series," I explained. I really did want him to finish his paintings, even if he was a dirty old man. Who was I to judge?

"Oh. Well, can I still pose with you in the meantime?"

I gave a one-shoulder shrug. "I guess. You're pretty fun."

So, for the next month, we continued to pose for sketches and explore each other while James watched.

We developed a deeper friendship over it, and when James was finished with his sketches and I started university, Wesley and I started up a more traditional courtship.

Six months later, James sent me a check for $5,000. It seemed he'd sold the whole series of 15 paintings for a boatload of money, so much that he and Maura were retiring in Belize.

I was happy for them, and I never regretted a single minute of those Wednesday evenings in the loft.

Wesley and I have been married for 15 years.



The Loft Conversion



"I've...oh God, I feel bad about admitting this..."

"Go on -- it's only a laugh."

"Well, OK...but promise you won't tell anyone. Especially Chris."

And so began the most amazing adventure...

***

My wife, Jane and I are friends with a couple -- Chris and Lucy. Jane went to school with Lucy and -- how can I put this? Lucy and Chris...they are of a religious persuasion. Straight. Dull, even. Lovely people, but let's just say not exactly party people. 

Having recently moved, we invited them to stay for the weekend. As well as catching up with them, it gave us an excuse to show off the new house -- and my pride and joy -- its loft room which had become my den. Complete with sofa bed, desk and computer, I had big plans for this room -- but little did I realise what would happen in there within the first couple of weeks!

As I said, Chris and Lucy aren't exactly renowned party people, so I was pleasantly surprised when not only did they have a glass of wine, but they seemed to be on a mission to keep up with Jane and I. Before we knew it, we had demolished 5 bottles between us and Chris was sound asleep in his chair. Between us, Jane, Lucy and I managed to get him to the guest room and on to the bed. As Lucy began to pull the trousers off her sozzled husband, Jane began to make her excuses to leave but Lucy just laughed. 

"Ha! Not much to see there anyway Jane! I wouldn't worry about it."

Lucy pulled off his jeans, leaving a totally collapsed Chris spark out in his boxers. I glanced at Jane and caught her eyeing up his crotch. I smiled and made a mental note to mention that later...Anyway, we returned to the lounge where we cracked open another bottle of wine. Soon enough, Lucy returned to her theme.

"I love Chris so much and don't get me wrong, I love the church too. It's a great community, everyone looks out for you. But I get bored. I love having a drink, this is the first time I've seen Chris drunk for ages. And as for sex..."

I looked over at my wife. I could see by the look on her face that she wasn't going to let that one go.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he's so unadventurous. It's not like I want to be ravaged every night and swing from the chandeliers...but...it's just...well, he won't experiment.." Now I was shifting uncomfortably in my seat. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear any more...but Jane was on a roll.

"What do you mean?" She said. Again.

"The other night I asked him to do something, he went mental. Called me immoral and all sorts."

"What did you ask him to do?!" Jane leaned forward, grabbing her wine.

"No. I can't!" said Lucy, looking at me.

"Oh come on!" said Jane. "We're all friends here. Andy won't say anything, will you?" Jane looked at me shaking her head.

I shook my head.

"I've...oh God, I feel bad admitting this..."

"Go on, it's only a laugh"

"Well, OK. But promise you won't tell ANYONE. Especially Chris!"

"Of course!"

Lucy took a big swig of her wine, a deep breath and then exhaled.

"I asked him to spank me."

I nearly choked on my wine. Jane was less subtle.

"Christ, is that it?? Andy does that to me all the time, don't you love?"

My turn to be embarrassed now.

"Um...yeah..." I mumbled.

"Really?!" said a stunned Lucy

"It's no big deal." God, I loved her. "I reckon loads of people do it."

"Not me," said Lucy. "Not ever."

"Ah, bless" said Jane. "If you're nice to him, I'm sure Andy will do it to you."

Lucy giggled and blushed. I began to shift even more uncomfortably in my seat. Not so much because I was embarrassed, but because I could feel my cock beginning to stir under the strategically placed cushion on my lap.

"So what do you do?" Lucy looked straight at me, stroking the neck of her glass in a rather obvious way.

"Well," I said, "I normally get Jane to bend over and I give her a couple of slaps on the arse."

"Oh come on Andy" interrupted Jane. "You love it when I call you master and you call me a slut. You make it sound quite dull."

Jane turned to Lucy and proceed to talk her through what we get up to. Now I was shifting uncomfortably due to a rock hard cock AND embarrassment.

"We don't do it all the time, but I fucking love it when we do. He makes me feel humiliated, but really horny at the same time, don't you love? I just give myself to him and he does what he wants with me. We have a safe word, just in case I need him to stop, but other than that, he just goes for it. "

"What does he do?" asked Lucy. I was starting to feel a little left out here.

"Well he makes me strip and then stand in front of him totally naked. He makes me say stuff, like you know, stuff I've done, stuff I'd like to do -- fantasies I guess. Then he spanks me or sometimes whips me, calls me his slut, his whore and then gives me the fucking of my life."

"I wish Chris would do that." Lucy said, wistfully.

"Well I'm sure Andy would be more than happy to step into the breach wouldn't you?" Jane flashed me one of her wicked grins. She was horny, no doubt about it.

Lucy blushed. But then she gave me the filthiest look which took me by complete surprise. "Oh god, yes please!" she said.

Even Jane seemed taken aback -- for a second, anyway. 

"Fuck. I mean, yeah. Andy take her up to the loft and punish her. Me too whilst you're at it."

I laughed and then realised that not only were they both deadly serious, but they were both horny as fuck too. Well, what would you do?

"OK then. Jane, take Lucy up to the loft room. Remove her clothes and then remove yours.

"Yes master"

"Good girl"

***

I watched the girls disappear, giggling up the loft ladder and then a thought popped into my head: Chris. I went to check on him -- he was prostrate on the bed, wearing just his boxers. I covered him with the duvet and closed the door behind me. I climbed the loft ladder, stopped and peered in.

"Christ, I can't believe I'm doing this! What would Chris say???"

Surely Lucy wasn't having second thoughts was she? Not a bit. Lucy gasped as Jane pulled her top over her head to reveal a nice big pair of breasts under a lacy white bra. Hmmm I thought, not bad. Not bad at all. Had to be at least a C cup. Unzipping Lucy's skirt, Jane knelt down to pull it over Lucy's curvy hips revealing a matching pair of briefs. I could just make out a thatch of dark pubes through the lacy material.

I decided to make my move and leapt up into the loft.

"Jane I thought I told you to undress Lucy and then undress yourself."

"You did master, I am"

"You're taking too long. Come here."

Jane looked at me and walked over. I grabbed her hair.

Lucy gasped.

"It's alright Lucy, Jane loves being treated a bit rough don't you?"

Jane nodded. "Mmm" she murmured.

"Now Jane, please remove your clothes and then you will be punished. Lucy sit yourself next to me."

I sat down on the sofa bed and patted the space next to me. Lucy self consciously sat next to me and crossed her arms. As I watched my beautiful wife undress, I whispered to Lucy.

"Just relax. If you want to stop at any time, we have a safe word -- 'red' OK? Say that and we'll stop immediately.

"OK, thanks. I'm just a little nervous."

By now Jane had stripped completely naked. She was touching her 34C tits and lightly brushing her shaved cunt. I watched Lucy watching her.

"Now then Jane, come here. Turn around"

Jane turned so that her pert arse was inches from my face.

"Lucy please go over to the chest of drawers over there and get me my whip from the second drawer. I intend to show Jane that it doesn't do to keep me waiting."

"OK"

"Lucy..."

"OK Master." Good. She was learning fast. I was beginning to think that I could have some fun with this one.

I watched Lucy as she walked across the room. Under those dowdy clothes she always wore, she had a great body. Slightly curvier than Jane, bigger tits and a great round arse. She found the whip and brought it over to me.

"Good girl. You're going to be master's favourite tonight"

"Thank you master"

"Unlike this slut." I brought the full force of the whip down on Jane's arse as I said the word 'slut'.

Jane flinched and emitted a short grunt.

THWACK! I brought the whip to bear again. I looked at Lucy who sat enthralled, her right hand thrust into the hem of her knickers.

"And what do you think you're doing, dirty slut?" I demanded

"I...um...I...er...I don't know" she said swiftly pulling her hand from her kickers.

"Pardon?"

"Oh, I..um.. don't know, master"

"Lucy. Remove your bra and knickers. Stand in the middle of the room please."

She did as she was bid and let her tits fall out of her bra. God she must have been double D. They were awesome. Her nipples were pink and erect. She removed her knickers to reveal a thatch of curly dark hair. Stood next to Jane, she was a real contrast. Curvier, taller, bigger tits, hairier. But just as horny.

I walked around her, inspecting my new slave. As I circled her, I pinched her hard nipples, causing her to moan gently. My cock was fighting to free itself from the restraints of my trousers.

"Bend over." I pushed Lucy over the bed. Her arse stuck up in the air, exposed. I slapped her hard and again, again, again. With my free hand, I gestured Jane over to free my cock. She was only too pleased, kneeling before me hungrily taking my dick into her mouth.

"Are you enjoying this slut?" I asked as I spanked Lucy again.

"Oh yes master!"

"Do you enjoy showing yourself off to other men?"

"I enjoy showing myself to you master"

"Good girl." I puled her up by the hair and gestured for her to join Jane on her knees. My two sluts then took turns in taking my cock into their mouths.

I looked down and saw Lucy's fingers slipped into her cunt. I pulled her up and threw her on to the bed. 

"Have I said you could play with yourself?" I demanded.

"No master. I'm sorry master"

"Then why are you?"

"I'm horny master. Your cock is so much bigger than Chris' little dick. Oh god, please fuck me. Fuck me."

I looked over at Jane who by now had taken her vibrator out of the drawer and was fucking herself as if her life depended on it. With Lucy lying on the bed, legs spread, I took this as quite literally an open invitation and thrust my cock into her cunt. Whilst thrusting I pinched her nipples hard.

"You're a real slut, aren't you Lucy?"

"Oh god, yes I am. I'm a fucking dirty slut. Fuck me please. Hard."

"Is my cock bigger than your husband's?"

"Oh god yeah, so much bigger. So big. Don't stop. Fuck me. Fuck...yes"

As she came, I had to put my hand over her mouth to avoid waking up the neighbours -- let alone Chris. Simultaneously Jane screamed with release as she fucked herself.

I shot my load in Lucy's cunt, knowing that this was only the beginning. Lucy was converted and a new chapter had begun.



The Loft Weekend



Author's note: This is a true story -- well, I think it's true. I heard the basic facts on a radio phone in. I have just created the characters and their day to day lives. The plot, including the end, is as the anonymous caller told it, so thanks to Galaxy FM and their listener -- whoever she is!

ooo

It started off like any other weekend. But when it was over, everything had changed. For Kathy, the future that had seemed so clear, so optimistic, so perfect on Friday night was a complete train wreck by Sunday evening.

It was almost five years ago, when their marriage was only a few weeks old, that Kathy and James had agreed that Friday night would always be their night. Their night to just ... be together. They had agreed in those early days that for as long as they were married, they would make every effort to spend Friday night alone with each other. And that weekend the Friday was typical of the pattern that had emerged over the years. In fact, it turned out to be a special Friday for them.

They had got in from work at pretty much the same time, and got out of their work clothes into their "slobbing around the house" gear. James had opened a bottle of red and poured two large glasses while Kathy had started to prepare dinner. Whilst they each talked about their day at work, they busied themselves chopping, cutting and cooking. Then at the moment their plates were on the table and the wine glasses refilled, by mutual, habitual consent, discussion about their nine to five lives stopped. They ceased to be James Bowman, Technical Support manager, and Kathy Simpson (maiden name), HR Recruitment Specialist, and became James and Kathy -- husband and wife, best friends, soul mates ... lovers.

An hour later they were cuddled up on the sofa and well into their second bottle of wine. The TV was on but neither of them was watching it. Their conversation was the focus of their attention. James squeezed Kathy's shoulder, and brushed a lock of her shoulder length blonde hair from her cheek:

"So you're absolutely sure about this?"

Kathy made a long slow nod, then turned her head up to look into James's eyes and confirmed it with a very definite "Yes".

"Okay, so after your next period you'll stop taking the pill?"

"Yep! I'm sure. Are you?"

James's reply was to turn around slightly so he faced her. Kathy could feel her head resting against the toned muscles of his biceps. He gently stroked her cheek -- it never ceased to amaze her that someone so strong was also so gentle. James stared into the lagoon blue eyes and then kissed her. It was a long, soft, tender kiss. Then he moved away from her and smiled:

"Come on, let's go and practice baby making, so we can be sure we'll get it right next month."

One of James and Kathy's other habits that had emerged over the years was that Friday night was "making love night". No matter how tired, or how pissed off with each other they were, they had agreed they would always make love. Friday nights were for closeness and tenderness. Saturday mornings on the other hand weren't for making love. Saturday mornings were for fucking!

It was well, past mid morning the next day when James joined his wife downstairs. She was wearing one of his T shirts (why do women look so sexy in men's T shirts?). He came up behind her, hugged round her slender waist and pulled her into him. He took a deep breath and absorbed the mixture of her gorgeous aroma with the after smell of the vigorous sex they had just shared. He started to lift the T shirt and Kathy giggled:

"God, haven't you had enough?"

She pulled the shirt down and turned round in his arms:

"... and besides, after all that exercise you need a shower."

"Now that is a good idea." And with that he easily scooped her up into his arms and carried her giggling up the stairs.

An hour later she was drying her hair while James, a damp towel round his waist, lay on the bed watching her. She turned from the mirror and smiled:

"I'd forgotten how much fun shower sex is."

James grinned back:

"Yeah! I think I could get to like this practice lark!"

"Well, I'm sure you won't want to do it when I'm the size of a small whale and expecting twins or something!"

His response was to climb off the bed and hold her again:

"I can't think of any time when I won't want to do it with you."

"We'll see...anyway, what are you going to do when I'm off shopping?"

"Just a few odd jobs. I need to fix the garage light and I've got to find some stuff for Gerry, from a course I did. I think it's in the loft somewhere."

Kathy turned off the hairdryer:

"Wow, fix light -- five minutes. Find notes in loft -- ten minutes. Watch Chelsea v United game -- ninety minutes. Life's tough!"

"Oh?" said James in mock surprise, "is there a football game on TV?"

Kathy shook her head and went back to making herself gorgeous for the love of her life.

An hour and a half later she was wandering round the town, looking at the mums with pushchairs, imagining herself with her and James's child. She pictured James and smiled -- fiddling with the garage light that had never worked. Climbing the ladder into the loft. Looking in the lo ... Oh My God! You idiot, you absolute fucking idiot.

Katy spun on her heels dashing to the car park. With any luck she'd find him in the chair with a beer watching footie. Please let him be watching the football. She jumped in the car, frantically pulling on her seatbelt as she made for the exit. Don't be in the loft. Please don't be in the loft. She couldn't believe how slow people were getting out of the car park. She willed the traffic to go faster. She drove so you could just about get a razor blade between her car and the bumper of the car in front, wanting to give it a helpful push. Why didn't you destroy them? You idiot! At last she pulled up outside the house. She glanced in the window, Oh thank God! There he was, sitting in the chair watching the TV.

Her hands were shaking as she took out her key. She opened the front door, took a deep breath and steadied herself. She walked into the living room as casually as she could with a cheery:

"Hi, I knew I'd find you here watching foo ...Oh fuck!"

Kathy stared at the TV screen. She knew the scene well, though it had been ... what? Eight? Ten years since she'd seen it? And about twelve years since it had been made.

"Yeah, fuck's about right!"

James couldn't look at her. He just dropped the VHS tape case on the floor and headed for the door.

"James! James ...I can explain ..." She reached out for him but he just shrugged her off and walked past her, not meeting her eyes.

With tears blurring her vision she looked down at the tape box, and saw he'd also found the two others. She knew the titles without reading them: "Gangbang Girls #3", "Lesbian Lickers" and the piece de resistance, "Three Holes in One". Although much younger, there was no mistaking whose pictures were on the front. The blonde was her, and the brunette with the big boobs was her best friend Natalie. Oh Christ! What a bloody mess.

She took a deep breath and turned to go and talk to James, though she had no idea what she was going to say. Well, the truth of course -- after all, they had no secrets. She heard the front door slam. That's what they'd promised each other -- no secrets. Of course, a secret is only a secret when someone else knows there's a secret.

She watched through the window as his figure got smaller and smaller until he turned the corner and was gone.

"I'm so, so sorry James", she whispered. She just hoped that "gone" wasn't completely gone.

That Saturday felt like the longest day of Kathy's life. As the hours went by, punctuated by bouts of tears, she kept looking out of the window, hoping to see the figure return. But the road was as empty as she was. She called his mobile but after leaving him three messages pleading with him to come back and talk, saying she'd explain everything, she started just hanging up when it flipped to voicemail.

By 6pm she started to get worried. Should she go out looking for him? If she did, what would he think if he came home and she wasn't there? Emotionally drained, she eventually dozed off on the sofa. Shortly after nine she woke up. With alarming clarity she realized where James would be. Her heart sank. Why there? It had been less than a year ago that they'd introduced James's friend Gerry to Natalie. They had started seeing each other soon afterwards and were still "an item" -- of sorts.

Natalie had been a free spirit when she had persuaded Kathy to join her in the porn industry. Whilst Kathy had left all that behind, Natalie was still pretty wild. But she and Gerry had obviously worked each other out and, either by mutual consent or by just ignoring it, had learned to live with each other's extra curricular activities. So, taking a deep breath first, Kathy rang Natalie's number. After a few rings, a bright and breezy Natalie answered the phone. Kathy gabbled out the usual pleasantries and asked if she'd seen James.

"Sorry babe, I've been at work til late, only got in an hour ago. Gerry left a note saying he'd gone out with James, and he'd be back later."

"Oh."

"You sound dreadful hon ... big row?"

Kathy sighed:

"The biggest!"

"Wanna come round and crack a bottle and tell me about it?"

In some ways Natalie was person she most wanted to see -- after James of course. Nat had this knack of making things seem not so bad. But seeing her would just remind her of what caused the misery.

"No, I think I'll stay here so I'm here when he comes back. If he comes back with Gerry send him home, yeah?"

"I'll probably send Gerry with him."

"Why? Surely things are okay with you two. You seem to be so well matched."

"What you mean is I don't mind if he plays around as long as he lets me?"

Kathy let her silence be her answer. Natalie sighed and continued:

"Yeah, well. Frankly, between you and me I think I've had enough. Give and take is one thing, but he's starting to take the piss. Don't get me wrong, when we're together it's bloody brilliant. He's great in bed. But, well ... it might have taken me ten years longer than it took you, but I think I'm growing up. I think I want something more. ... you know, something like you and James have got."

"Well, I hope we still have it ..."

"You'll be okay -- you'll see."

"Christ, I hope so."

The conversation drifted on and it ended with Kathy reiterating the request to send James home if he turned up. Kathy turned on the TV, more for company than anything else. She sat through half a movie with no idea what was going on. All she could think about was James, what he'd seen her and Natalie doing, what must be going through his head. She started to feel sick again at the thought of losing him.

At 11:30 her mobile cheeped with a text message. It was from Nat:

"James crashed on sofa. Will send him home tomoz. Don't worry -- will be ok. Hugs N"

Maybe that wasn't a bad thing -- she was tired and James was obviously smashed. Maybe tomorrow would be okay. Maybe they'd talk and he'd hug her and they could get back to planning the future. Maybe.

In the end it was mid afternoon when James walked in. As soon as she heard the front door she threw herself out of the chair and ran to him and flung her arms round him, babbling about how glad she was to see him and about how worried she was. It was like hugging a stone. She sheepishly pulled away from him. He looked terrible. She stroked his stubbly cheek:

"I'll put some coffee on."

"Don't bother, I won't be here long. Besides, I've had enough coffee already. I probably won't sleep til Wednesday as it is."

When she heard the "won't be here long", Kathy's heart sank and the tears welled up again.

"Look, I know I messed up. I am so, so sorry ... but..."

"But what? It slipped your mind? You didn't think it important?"

"I wanted to tell you, but the opportunity never happened. And the longer it went on the harder it got. James, I love you."

"Yeah, yeah. But not enough to share your past with me. Not enough to be honest with me. Not enough to trust me that I'd love you no matter what ..."

"I didn't want to risk losing you." Kathy's voice was soft, pleading. James's response was hard, bitter.

"Well, let me tell you, you have!"

"Don't say that, please. I'll do anything ..."

James's laugh was laced with sarcasm:

"Oh yeah, I can see that!"

"James, it was so long ago. It happened years before we met. And you know how I struggled financially at Uni. And ... and Nat said it was an easy way to make some quick money."

"Don't drag Natalie into this. Don't blame her -- at least she was honest with her boyfriend. She told Gerry about it once it became obvious they were more than just casual lovers. She realized how important it was to be honest."

"I know I should have told you ..."

"Yeah, yeah you should. You see, it's not that you were short of money and decided to be a pornstar. It's not that you got paid to be gangbanged or have three blokes at once. That's not the issue here. The issue is trust. You didn't trust me to love you despite all that -- and now ... hmph, now I don't think I can ever trust you again."

"Please don't say that. Please ... let's just talk about it. About us, about .. a baby."

James stared at her:

"What? Look, I'm going to get some of my stuff -- I need some time. But honestly ... how could I possibly ever trust you again."

The tears became uncontrollable as they rolled down Kathy's cheek. She turned away from him -- unable to bear the sight of what she knew she'd thrown away.

xxx

Even under the shade of a large umbrella, at 11am the humidity made it almost too hot. Kathy put her book down and sipped her drink. She thought about a brief dip. The bikini showed off her suntanned body to great effect, and she actually felt okay about herself - although that had taken some time. She instinctively knew that being away on holiday this week was the right thing -- she didn't want to be there, and being in the Caribbean was the perfect excuse.

Although the worst weekend of her life was well in the past, its memory was still a dagger to heart. She had realized quite quickly that her marriage was over -- the divorce had been fair, but frosty. But harder to take than the pain of sitting with James and splitting up their CD and DVD collection, was the news that James had a new girlfriend. A new girlfriend that meant she had not only lost her husband, but also lost her best friend.

Kathy glanced at her watch, 11:15 and the UK is four hours ahead. Natalie and James will be exchanging vows now. Well, like he said, it wasn't what we did -- it was the lack of trust.