2 comments/ 28415 views/ 10 favorites Trading Up By: Jizaz_Jester The beginning of the following story is true, then it turns into a fantasy about how things should've turned out if I had tried just a little harder. After the fantasy is over, the truth will be revealed. -------------------------------------- It was just one more day before I had to return home. The trip to Ohio to see my girlfriend Cici had already ran nearly a week over due to me catching the swine flu and being quarantined inside her house, but I was feeling better and ready to drive ten hours back to South Carolina. Her parents hated having me there and I honestly hated being there. Long distance relationships are never easy, and the brief amount of time we actually got together was almost always soured by them. At least they were gone for the weekend and Cici's younger siblings were at sleepovers. We had the house all to ourselves, or we should have anyway, but two of Cici's friends had invited themselves over after one of them had a knock-down drag-out with her boyfriend. So instead of sharing a last romantic night naked with the girl I only got to see a few weeks out of each year, the four of us were sitting around the kitchen table playing rummy late into the night. Cici sat on my right, close enough that I could grope her under the table without the other two girls seeing – although they surely noticed when she'd blush or giggle or gasp depending on whether I was touching the right spots. She was barely 5'4, and on the chubby side, but she had some of the biggest nicest tits I'd ever sucked on and a huge firm ass that practically begged to be spanked. Despite being a quarter African-American, Cici had light green eyes and was the palest person at the table; pasty may be a better description since her lifestyle kept her away from the sun and in front of a computer screen more often than not. She had inherited her half-black father's hair and despite constant failure, kept trying to dye it, straighten it, soften it and do anything with it other than grow an afro and make the best of her mixed DNA. Cici had just turned eighteen and this trip was supposed the one she returned with me on. On my left was Katelyn, who I sincerely disliked. On top of being unattractive with her unwashed permed to hell and back hair, acne ridden face, and oddly proportioned body (small breasts, flat ass, beer gut, broad shoulders), she was a whore who was constantly trying to drag Cici into situations that would lead to her cheating on me or me suspecting that she cheated. This was all compounded by Katelyn almost getting me arrested for coming to see Cici before she was of legal age the year before, and had gotten Cici and herself busted for shoplifting a few weeks earlier - greatly damaging my plans to have Cici move in with me and far away from people like her parents and Katelyn. The friend across from me was Kaye Dorthea, or KD, or Kaydee, or Katie, or a hundred other names depending on who was calling her. Next to me, Kaye was the tallest of the group at nearly six feet and the only girl at the table by any means in good shape. She didn't seem to have the slightest muscle tone, but her metabolism kept her thin. Her own good habits kept her straight black hair smooth and shiny, her bouncy B-cups firm and perky, and her smile bright and straight. Kaye was good friend to both of us, having covered for us the previous year by saying I was there for her instead of Cici, which led to a fight with her boyfriend that obviously never ended as that night she sported a swollen lip - which she was doctoring with cheap beer I had bought the girls to split. I'd felt guilty a few times when I caught myself admiring Kaye's long thin body or her narrow elf-like face - that night was no exception – but at least I had the consolation of knowing Cici wanted to rub her naked body down as bad as I did. Cici had admitted to me and herself long before then that she was bisexual, but it was only recently that she had told me she developed a crush on her best friend. The thought of the two of them rolling around in a sweaty heap of passion had distracted me often since learning about the crush, but I other than some playful teasing I hadn't acted like it really mattered or I was all that interested. The conversation kept swinging back and forth between what Cici and Katelyn were going to do about their impending trial, how I was coping with having to make the trip again since I wasn't told about Cici not being able to leave until I had already got there, and what Kaye was going to do about her obviously abusive boyfriend. "The worst part is- I need to find a new place to live." Kaye lamented and drew a card. "I mean, I can go back and grab my stuff while Brandon's at work, but I don't want to be there when he comes home." Katelyn drew a card and sighed. "Well, I'd let you stay with me but my parents won't let me." She said even though we all knew she hadn't even asked. Cici slapped my hand away from where it was busy slowing pressing the seam of her PJs into her slit and said "You could stay here for a few days." as I drew and laid down a five card straight. "We could probably stretch it into a few weeks if you hid in the closet until dad left for work every day and stayed out until after he went to bed every night." I drew again and put my hand back between Cici's thighs, trying to find the spot that made her squirm again. "Why doesn't she just come home with me?" I half-joked as Cici tried to concentrate on her cards and my fingers. Cici shook her head, making her kinked up purple hair bounce. "Nu-huh." She rejected. "I'd be way too worried about you trying to screw her while I wasn't there." I snorted, agreeing with her but not giving her fears of my infidelity any ground. I was about to deny the whole idea when Katelyn butted in saying. "Jeremy might not any self-control, but I think Kaydee has higher standards than that. Besides, she only fucks niggers." I was so impressed that she managed to insult everyone at the table so quickly that I managed to resist the urge to punch her in the face. "Brandon's the only black guy I've ever dated." Kaye broke the stunned silence with a half-drunk sneer. "And you're wrong, I'd totally fuck Jeremy." Then it was Kaye's turn to get the shocked stares. "What?" she shrugged. "I would. He's big and tough looking, and he has that hot southern accent, and a half-decent job, a rent-controlled apartment, his own car, and he cares enough about his girlfriend to risk being put in prison to drive twenty hours just to spend a few days with her." Kaye drew a card, laid down a match to empty her hand, and declared three things – "Face it, Jeremy is a great catch, I have every right to be jealous of Cici, and I just kicked your asses at rummy." As they counted up the score and Kaye started shuffling the cards for her turn as dealer, I considered what she said and felt my ego swell enough to take the chance. I leaned closer to Cici and kissed her cheek, then moved to whisper in her ear while I continued rubbing her moistening gash through her pants. "You should get Kaye to have sex with you tonight." She eased her head back from me and stared like I was crazy. I smiled and nodded, moving close again, putting more pressure on my fingers, and whispering "Get Katelyn to go home, and I'll get in the shower, and you take her to bed and have your way with her." We both glanced at her as she fumbled through shuffling the deck. "She's drunk, she's vulnerable." I went on, now massaging her clit through her soaked panties "It's not the best way to get what you want, but you won't get a better chance to find out what her pussy tastes like." I licked her ear and she shuddered. "That is what you want, isn't it Cici? To lick and suck on Kaye's hot little pussy?" I knew I had her, but I wanted her to want it as bad as I did. "To make your best friend cum on your mouth and let me watch you be my dirty little girl?" "Yes..." she hissed back in my ear and grabbed my hand, holding it still while she slowly rocked against it. Calling her 'my dirty little girl' was the hook. It always got to her on a level I didn't really understand but loved to reach. I leaned back with a smile stretched over a fake yawn and a huge stretch. "It's getting kind of late, isn't it?" Cici asked looking up at the clock on the microwave to see it tick up to 12:36. "Aren't you on curfew Katelyn?" she accused. "Your dad is gonna be pissed if you don't get home." Katelyn tried to argue with her, but I jumped in. "You've already caused enough trouble for yourself and Cici, haven't you?" I scowled, reminding everyone that I would be driving home alone. "Go home before your dad comes over here and sees you, Kaye and Cici drinking and starts even more shit." I said pointing towards the door. "Yeah, I guess you're right." She huffed. Katelyn got up and hugged her friends goodbye, waved over her shoulder on her way to the door, and was gone from my life for at least a little while. I yawned again, and then leaned over and kissed Cici, pushing my tongue into her mouth and sucking hers back out. I made no attempt to hide any passion in front of Kaye, even going to far as to not-so-gently stroke the side of Cici's chest so that Kaye could see it. "I'm gonna take a shower, then maybe head to bed." I announced when the kiss was done. "Long trip tomorrow and I need my beauty sleep." I got up and circled the table towards the den leading to the bathroom, pausing to kiss Kaye on top of her head as I went. I gave the girls as much time as I could, using the toilet, plucking nose hairs, and trimming my goatee and sideburns before my shower that lasted until the hot water ran frigid. I toweled off but didn't bother with any clothes. I left the bathroom and crept up the stairs towards Cici's bedroom, I didn't want to make a racket and scare either of them- especially Kaye, who I wasn't sure would react favorably to my plan. I could hear moaning through the bedroom door and silently congratulated myself, fist pumping a few times, before easing the door open. There was a beautiful sight if I ever saw one – Cici, with all her naked plumpness, spread wide open on the bed, one hand mauling a huge soft boob, and the other firmly knotted in Kaye's long black hair as she hungrily lapped at Cici's shaved mound, and Kaye, just as naked, down on her knees next to the bed, licking and fingering my girlfriend while her own crotch glistened with what I guessed was a mixture of girl-cum, Cici's slobber, and fresh girly-juice. I watched them writhe for some long seconds absentmindedly stroking my cock as I admired Kaye's firm little ass and long legs and puffy dripping slit, and Cici's huge tits and cute round face, and wondered if it'd be a trade up or not if I had to choose a new girlfriend after that night. I knew that after nearly a week, Cici's pussy was bruised and overly sensitive from having rough sex at least twice a day, and with her friend gently lapping at her swollen genitalia she was in a state of bliss. They didn't notice me until I walked up to the bed, hard cock wobbling out in front of me, and started gently petting Cici's dark purple curls. She glanced up at me, then at my cock, and panted at Kaye's oral skills, but didn't speak. Instead she grabbed my dick with the hand not holding her skinny friend's face and pulled it down to her mouth. I gasped at Cici's technique, or lack thereof, as she engulfed my dick, drooling as much as possible, and rocked her head on it; fucking me with her mouth. In, out. Up, down. Over and over, she pumped her hot mouth down my cock until her lips hit her fist. Cici drooled as she went, spilling spit down my shaft, across her hand, on my sack, down her chin, and across her chest. Her breathing was erratic and she started moaning around her mouthful of man-meat, and I knew Kaye was getting close to making my pudgy girlfriend orgasm. "Do it." I whispered to Cici. "Cum all over her face." I urged and took a handful of her hair in my fist, rocking her head faster on my dick. "Do it, cum for her. Do it, cum for me. Be my dirty little girl and cum all over your friends pretty face." One especially loud moan escaped her, and I felt it vibrate down my shaft. Cici started to shudder and soon she was harshly rubbing her bald cunt on Kaye's face, smearing her with juice from her battered vagina. When her orgasm subsided, my dick was still in her mouth, and I think that's when Kaye finally realized I was there. She scooted closer to me, still on her knees, and laid her head on Cici's chest. She watched my drool-covered dick get engulfed a few dozen times; reaching up and fondling my slick balls for a minute or two before asking "Can I try it?" I smiled and raised my eyebrows at Cici, who would've frowned at me if her mouth wouldn't have been full of my cock. I petted her hair again and chided "Friends can share, can't they?" Cici pulled my dick from her mouth and pouted, but held it still so Kaye could get up close enough to wrap her wet warm lips around the head. She took the shaft from Cici and stroked it gently, not squeezing, just spreading the slick mess left behind and caressing the skin and the engorged veins as she lapped at the head with her soft little tongue. Sucking and stroking, licking and rubbing, and staring up at me with a pair of eyes so blue they could've been purple, I believe Kaye was trying to make me cum. Cici watched and pouted until I started panting, and then she grabbed my hand and pulled it to her tits. "Don't you want to fuck your dirty little girl?" she cooed and my cock jumped, scrapping my crown on Kaye's teeth as she was pulling her head away. I groaned at the slight pain and at being denied my orgasm, and decided I'd take it out on Cici. I pulled away from Kaye and pushed Cici back on the bed before climbing onto it between her legs. I looked down at my prey and smiled. Her whole vaginal mound was bruised from the abnormal amount of attention had I paid it all week - her normally pale pink lips were stained purple and thick, her clit was swollen and red and peeking out from under its hood, and I was about to find out just how sore her insides were. I was already slick with the girls' combined spit, and Cici's gash was already greased from her orgasm, so I wasted no time being gentle and lurched forward, spearing her pussy and spreading it open in one motion. Cici cried out and began rolling her hips on my dick, moaning and groaning like she'd been stabbed. She was tight, so tight I could feel each ripple and bump inside her squeezing each ridge and vein on my cock. I wanted to pound her, stretch her tiny pussy open again and again until she begged me to fuck Kaye just so she could have some relief. However, I couldn't have her howling waking the neighbors, so I led Kaye by one hand up and on the bed. "Let Cici taste you." I offered and Kaye smiled as she straddled my girlfriend's face, putting her clit right on Cici's lips with a small gasp. I held Cici's legs around me and start working my cock inside her, using short strokes in different directions, stretching her tunnel in a different shape each time I pushed my cock against her cervix. Then the strokes got longer, faster, harder, plunging into Cici's quim like I was tenderizing a steak. Cici still cried out and moaned in a mix of pleasure and pain, but the sounds were greatly muffled by Kaye's crotch being ground into her mouth. "Oh holy shit..." Kaye moaned and leaned toward me, catching my shoulders and holding herself up. She gasped and looked down at her friend's pussy being split open, and then back up at me with a smile. "I was wondering why it looked like someone had taken a bat to Cici's crotch." She teased. "Maybe I'll get to see how she feels?" I dropped one of Cici's legs and grabbed Kaye's head to kiss her. I gave her my tongue and took one of her lips, then we switched, moaning back and forth into each other's mouth while we pleasured ourselves with Cici's willing body. My pounding got rougher while I kissed Kaye through an orgasm on Cici's face, slipping my cock all the way out of Cici's cunt, just to pierce her outermost lips with each thrust back in. I could hear her crying "Fuck me! Oh God fuck me!" into Kaye's slit, I could feel the familiar quakes start in her core, moving out to me and getting stronger as I worked her towards an orgasm. "Don't cum yet." I heard Kaye tell me between kisses. It surprised me and I stopped for a moment, letting Cici's hips do the thrusting to get her off. "Please?" Kaye begged "I want to feel you inside me." I kissed her again, resuming my abuse of Cici's cunt. I broke the kiss just as Cici was erupting, thrashing and crying out as her pussy sent orgasmic shockwaves through her body. I kept up my pace as long as I could, but wanted to give Kaye what she asked for, so I pulled out when I felt my own orgasm approaching. "Lick her clit and keep her cumming." I told Kaye and gently pushed her head down to Cici's swollen clit. I circled the bed, crawling back on next to Cici's head, and before she could object I pulled Kaye's hips up level with mine and began pushing my cock past her puffy pink pussy lips. Kaye wasn't quite as tight as Cici, but she was so much wetter and hotter, it was like fucking molten velvet. I heard Cici start to complain, but Kaye jammed a few long fingers inside her pussy and moaned into her clit, causing Cici to forget she didn't want me fucking other girls. I tried to take it easy on Kaye, pulling her back onto my dick as I pushed into her. I could feel my balls dragging across Cici's face and got weird satisfaction of forcing her to be so close to where Kaye and I were joined; satisfaction that made me swell and throb inside Kaye. Kaye moaned loudly and rolled her hips back towards me, twisting her tunnel around my cock to hit deeper spots inside her. I groaned through clenched teeth and thrust back at her, grinding our flesh together. She cried out, rearing back from Cici but keeping a hand busy in her slit. I pulled her further back by a handful of sweaty hair, pushing up into her pussy while she ground her hips down on mine. I knew I was full on tea-bagging my girlfriend while I fucked her best friend, but I could still hear her moaning and could still feel her tongue doing its best to pleasure Kaye's clit and figured she must be enjoying herself. Kaye turned her head and started kissing me crookedly over her shoulder, pressing her sweat slick body to my chest while I thrust my dick deep into her. "Fuck me" she moaned when our sloppy kiss ended. I grinned evilly at her and pushed her back down on top of Cici before roughly grabbing her by the waist. I was done taking it easy; pulling all but an inch away from Kaye before burying my cock back in her with a wet slap each time her ass met my stomach. Now it was her turn to scream, but I had no desire to muffle her cries as I violated her innermost spots over and over. Kaye didn't shudder and quake when she came, she clawed handfuls of Cici's thighs and screamed herself hoarse and bucked her ass back at me, forcing me to fuck her deeper until she started to go limp. My balls clenched and my shaft flexed and I felt my own orgasm boil up to the tip of my cock. I started to pull out as cum sprayed from me. The first jet was fully inside Kaye's pussy, the second splattered on her puffy lips, and the rest streaked down across Cici's face, dripping the last bits onto her forehead and dark purple curls. We slept in a sweaty heap that night, occasionally waking to kiss or talk or fondle each other, and the next morning it was decided that Kaye should return home with me to escape any more abuse from her now-ex-boyfriend. "After all," Cici shrugged as she kissed us both goodbye "at least if he's screwing you he won't be looking for someone else." On the way out of town, we stopped by Kaye and Brandon's place so she could grab her clothes and the small amount of cash she had stashed away in case of an emergency. "He spends all his money on shit for himself. I pay the rent and the gas and the light bill." Kaye told me as we passed the living room, which had an almost new big screen TV hooked to every video game system that was available then, an Alienware laptop, and a few towers full of DVD and video game cases. "Leaving him for you is definitely trading up, and I even get a bi-girl in the deal." She laughed as she started emptying drawers. Trading Up Chapter 1 - Mid-November The first that Doctor Ian Cameron, MD, knew of the assault on his person was when the twelve-year-old girl, who had been comfortably sleeping on his shoulder, was wrenched from under his protective arm. As he blinked his eyes open from his exhausted sleep, they were suddenly filled with a stinging irritant, in the form of pepper spray. Cameron cried out and brought his hands up to his face. Almost immediately he was struck on the side of the head by a blow powerful enough to knock him off the sofa onto the sitting room floor. He later learned that he was cruelly struck by his own heavy medical bag, which had been left next to the sofa. As he lost consciousness, Cameron was aware of a woman's voice cursing him in what seemed to him to be a fiery Mediterranean tongue. He was simultaneously conscious that his torso was at the complete mercy of and being subjected to a number of sharp kicks calculatedly aimed at his manhood. For some incongruous reason, once his body had reached that numb, painless stage, for just a moment before his consciousness turned inky black, the incongruous thought occurred to Cameron that the woman's voice was ... well, actually, quite sexy. Chapter 2 - Earlier that night Doctor Cameron was a locum medical practitioner. He covered doctors' periods of sick leave, vacations, or was available for out-of-surgery-hours cover, including weekends. He was prepared to relocate on a temporary basis anywhere he was required. In the majority of appointments, the demand for his services were in inner cities, with the occasional rural secondment thrown in for good measure by way of a rare treat. The location mattered little to Cameron, as he no longer had any permanent residence that he was able to call home. In his late-thirties, he had been practising medicine for fourteen years, mostly in hospitals as he found the purchase of a private practice share beyond his resources. Five years earlier, however, his happy marriage had suddenly evaporated when his beautiful Personal Assistant wife Brenda divorced him to marry her older but rather more financially successful entrepreneur boss. She told Cameron that she believed he would never amount to anything other than a hospital doctor, so she was, in her words, "trading-up". Brenda's employer-cum-lover could afford the best lawyers money could buy and Cameron was screwed out of everything, including visitation rights to his then twelve-year-old daughter, Isla, and separation meant immediate exclusion by court order from the marital home and within hailing distance of his former nearest and dearest. Mrs Brenda Cameron's grounds to divorce him, cited mental and physical cruelty, and came completely out of the blue to Cameron on the day of the divorce court hearing. Although evidence of his violent behaviour was completely circumstantial, with no proof of medical treatments or police interventions, his wife's courtroom lies under oath on the subject were damningly convincing enough for the judge to penalise Cameron heavily. Following the separation, Cameron's position in the local hospital became untenable after the legally enshrined reasons for the divorce were made public. Cameron was quietly asked to leave. Eventually, he signed up with a locum agency providing support for doctors' practices. This was his third enjoyable stint in this particular tiny rural practice, which covered a huge underpopulated area of countryside, consisting mostly of agricultural farms and hamlets. He had spent a week here the previous spring, followed by a month in the summer, and was now in the middle weekend of a fortnight in November. There was a tentative promise of a further week's work coming up in February. Weekend cover meant being on call from Friday afternoon through to Monday morning, as well as the weekday out-of-hours sessions. The hours were long, and the cases ranging from the mundane to the most challenging. This weekend had been a particularly busy one for Cameron; his last call, prior to his assault, was to one of a tiny pair of isolated cottages. Here he had to certify the sudden unexpected death of an old woman. The paramedics and police had arrived on scene a couple of hours before the good doctor was able to attend. Cameron had to complete a house call some distance away, treating a sick child. The deceased, a woman in her eighties, had enjoyed recent good health and, after examining her, Cameron agreed with the paramedic, who was first on scene, that it looked like she had suffered from a cardiac arrest. There appeared nothing suspicious about the occurrence but by law the Coroner's opinion needed to be sought. The old lady had died long before the ambulance was summoned, although the crew had spent some time fruitlessly trying to revive the poor soul. The police had already departed on another call prior to Cameron's arrival and the ambulance was also informed that they were required elsewhere. Both emergency crews knew Cameron from his previous experience in the tight-knit community and was highly regarded by them. The Coroner had been notified by the police by voice-mail but word was that the Coroner was attending the County Ball, the biggest shin-dig on the local social calendar, so there was no telling when he'd arrive to deal with the deceased. Cameron would have to wait for him before the duty undertaker could be summonsed to remove the body. The initial 999 call came from 12-year-old Sofia, who, as the only other person present in the pair of cottages, was extremely upset. She had woken from a nightmare about eleven o'clock, apparently, and crept into her Nanny's bed, only to find her cold and wouldn't wake up. Cameron was informed that the child had been left with her Nanny for the night because her mother was also at the Ball and not due to collect her until around noon on Sunday. The next door neighbours were also guests at the same social event. The paramedic quietly informed Cameron that Sofia's father had died in a motor vehicle accident earlier in the year and the girl was in shock at this further family bereavement. The police had tried to call the mother, her number supplied by the girl, but they could only leave messages. The local Children's Services had also been contacted but, guess what?, the duty officer was at the Ball, too! The police left a verbal message with the paramedics to pass onto Cameron when he arrived, saying that when they had a chance they would drop by the Ball, which, by tradition, tended to go on until three or four in the morning at least. They warned Cameron that the girl's mother was known to be involved in the clean-up afterwards, so it might be some time before he could be relieved of his responsibility for the young girl. The girl Sofia was a dark-haired beauty, tall and slender for her age, with soft brown eyes, currently deeply reddened with sorrow. She was not prepared to sleep upstairs alone and eagerly clung on to Doctor Cameron, who was left alone with her as the paramedics departed on another call for their services. Cameron sat on the sofa with the girl, having wrapped a blanket around both of them and he relaxed, having not slept properly since Friday lunchtime, some 37 hours earlier. It was soon warm in the house, as the nearly dead fire had been refuelled with logs and the embers poked back into life. When on hospital duty, Cameron was comfortable in the usual thin green tunics and shapeless trousers. While on locum calls, though, Cameron felt a suit, shirt and sombre tie was more appropriate. Over this he wore a heavy hi-visibility coat, identifying his medical examiner status, useful for traffic accidents and external emergencies. Now thoroughly warmed through, though, he removed the heavy coat and left it draped over the hall banister rail. He loosened his tie before rejoining the distressed girl on the comfortable sofa. "I'll wait here with you, Sofia. However," he warned her. "I'm still on emergency call-out all through the weekend, so I may have to wrap you in this blanket and take you with me in the car, if I get the call before your mother or the Coroner gets here. Are you all right with that arrangement?" "It's better than being left here on my own, Doc. I'm happy to wait with you until Mummy comes for me." Cameron nodded, "If I do take you to an emergency call, you'll have to stay in the locked car, but I can always leave the car heater on for you." "OK, so, if I keep my bedroom slippers on, Doc, will you carry me to the car?" Did the doctor detect a hint of coyness in her statement and the quizzical look the girl gave him? Whether he did or not, Cameron pressed on, saying, "Fine, in the meantime, I can be reached on the radio or mobile just as well here as back in the hotel ... only I was hoping to speak to my daughter at school in Yorkshire on Skype this evening. She was going to wait up for me to call after going out with her friends tonight. I don't suppose your Nanny has broadband, has she?" "No, Doc, but the Thompsons next door have wifi and ... I know the password," Sofia smiled for the first time tonight, "Do you want to use my laptop?" "If you don't mind, mine's still at the hotel." "The internet's set up on it ready to use. I'll fetch it from my bedroom." Sofia left the open computer with Cameron, while she made cocoa for them both. He was cheerfully chattering to his daughter Isla by the time she returned with the steaming mugs. Once introduced, the girls Sofia and Isla, aged 12 and 17 respectively, were happily chattering away. Cameron, his empty stomach filled with hot chocolate and surrounded by the contented buzzing of female voices, found himself peacefully slipping away into the land of nod. Isla noticed in the background of the screen that his eyes were closed and Sofia commented on his gentle snoring. The girls giggled. "Your father's lovely," Sofia whispered, "I feel so safe with him." "Yeah, he's always been a sweetheart," Isla smiled, "It's my Mum that's the total bitch. She doesn't even know we've kept in contact. I'm glad I'm in boarding school, away from Mum and her creepy new husband, who's asked me to call him 'Dad'. Euuhh! Like, whatever!" "It's ... my Daddy that was the creep," Sofia confessed quietly. "Sorry, Sofe, Dad told me about losing your Daddy ... and your Nanny, of course." "That's all right, Isla. Actually, she's no relation, she was Granddad and Daddy's old Nanny, who looked after them when they were little, although we all knew and loved the old lady," Sofia said evenly, "As for Daddy, well, I'd known about some of his affairs for a long time. Mummy was too trusting to have a clue about his habits until just before he died. I'd check his emails on his computer when he thought I was doing my homework. I discovered that Daddy'd caught chlamydia from a business promotion party involving paid-for gang-bangers." "No!" "Yes. So, I set up an email account in a made-up name and sent Mummy an anonymous tip-off, so she could get herself medically checked out. I included names, places and times of Daddy's parties, or at least the ones I knew about from his accounts. Mummy and Daddy had a big row at home but quietly separated for a week or so before Daddy died in a motorway accident." Sofia was almost in tears. "I suppose Daddy's comfortable world was collapsing around his ears. I still don't know if it was a genuine accident or if he deliberately drove full pelt into that tree." "Oh, you poor sweetheart, and now your family's Nanny too." "Yes, it is almost too much to bear. I'm afraid, Mummy is so unhappy, and distrustful of all men in general that she wouldn't allow me to sleep where the Ball was being held. That's why I ended up here with our old Nanny." Isla could see the young girl was tired and distraught so, after promising to keep in touch and exchanging their mobile and other contact details, they signed off. Sofia lifted Cameron's limp arm and made herself comfortable underneath, pulling the blanket up to their chins. Sofia grinned contentedly as the handsome but exhausted doctor slept on without the slightest pause in his relaxed breathing. She closed her eyes and dozed peacefully, feeling warm and protected, too. Chapter 3 - Saturday, 13 February, 15 months later The grand house, almost a palace in its proportions, was impressive, set in its perfectly-manicured grounds. Brenda Stevens, the former Mrs Ian Cameron, squeezed her husband Neville's arm as they queued with the other guests for the Valentine Ball. She was aware that this was a last-ditch attempt to maintain their fortunes. "Guests", was hardly the term for the attendees, though, this Ball was a charity event to raise funds for a number of worthy causes and the admission tickets alone cost an arm and a leg. "Why are we here, Nev dear?" she enquired of her husband, a rather short, fat, bald man in his fifties, who had a puffy, drink-reddened, face. "I can't get hold of the Duchess in normal office hours, so this is our only chance," Neville Stevens hissed close to his wife's ear, not wishing to be overheard. "Not long after the Duke died, some eighteen months ago, we've been cut off completely and this trade was once the cornerstone of our business. I remember this place, it has hardly changed. Cor, we had some right old do's here before the Duke got hitched and settled down. Then we could only use the place when the Duchess was off with the kids to Salonica or Athens, otherwise we had to find new venues for our ... er ... fun. Long before your time, of course, my dear." Brenda nodded, she had been informed before of the importance of this Ball. She was acutely aware that their tightened budget had forced her to buy a cheap ill-fitting ball gown, one she felt sure looked even cheaper than it cost. Her fitting wasn't helped by the fact she had suffered from stress-related binge overeating during the past few months. She had put on a few pounds and she was conscious that it showed. All the lady guests, Mrs Stevens noted looking around, looked glorious in their glamorous figure-hugging designer evening gowns. They collected glasses of Champagne from a couple of smartly-liveried footmen, before moving into the buffet area between the grand staircase and the ballroom. Strains of a string quartet filtered through the open doors. Brenda's attention was taken by a red-haired girl, one of a number of maids, dressed alike in white blouse, black skirt and stockings, though comfortable heels, who looked uncannily like her daughter. She peered closer as the girl placed one of the three platters she carried on the white cloth-covered trestle tables and turned towards her. "Isla, honey?" Brenda asked. "Mother, what are you doing here?" the beautiful girl replied in surprise. "I might ask you the same. You're supposed to be studying first-year medicine in Edinburgh, aren't you? Not waiting on tables hundreds of miles away," her mother hissed in a loud whisper, just above the noise of the dance band, "If you needed money you could've asked Nev." "Yeah, Babes," Stevens said, sidling up to his step-daughter, putting his hand around her waist and leaning in for a wet kiss. Isla wriggled away from him and positioned herself the other side of her mother, who kissed Isla on her cheek. "It's OK, Mother," Isla replied, "Dad subs my petrol whenever I come down here." "You can afford to run a car?" her mother asked, incredulously, her own car having been repossessed recently. "Yes, and I don't need any extra money, Mother. I'm volunteering for free tonight, anyway, all the helpers are, including the band. It's a Charity Ball, you know. So, why are you here?" "Well, I'm supporting my husband, we're hoping to catch The Duchess." Isla Cameron interrupted, a furrow in her brow, "What do you want to speak to Maria about?" "Maria?" enquired her mother, "Who's Maria?" "Maria, the Duchess of Bartonshire, you said you want to catch her." Just then another pretty young maid, dressed like the others, in white blouse and black knee-length skirt, with long lustrous black hair down to her waist, arrived with a basket of bread rolls. "What's that about Mummy, 'Sis'?" the attractive dark-haired newcomer asked with a smile aimed at Isla, "And who're your friends?" "Hi, Sofe," smiled Isla, kissing Sofia on the cheek, "This is my Mother, Brenda, and her ... husband, Neville Stevens. Mother, this is Sofia, she lives here." "Oh, I should have known you were the Lady Sofia," exclaimed Mrs Stevens, unconsciously genuflecting slightly, wondering how this young aristocratic beauty could possibly be acquainted with her daughter Isla. The girl seemed too young to be studying medicine, "My husband was a friend and business associate of your dear, late father." "Yeah," chipped in the odious Stevens, who had been looking the child up and down since she appeared at the serving table, "Me and your old man were like this," he crossed his index and middle fingers of one hand while reaching out to grab the girl with his other hand. Sofia wriggled away and moved to safety behind Isla. "Don't remember any Neville, or Stevens, I'm afraid, Mrs Stevens," Sofia responded, "My brother, the new Duke, won't be picking up the reins of the farm business from Mummy until he's finished his degree at Cambridge, in a couple of years' time. What line of business are you in, anyway, Mr Stevens?" "Oh, lots of different fingers in various pies, my dear," Stevens leered imperiously, puffing out his chest, "But in your father's day I used to buy most of the meat from your farm abattoir and ship it to the top London restaurants." "Ah," Sofia said, "I think we organise deliveries directly to the door ourselves now, cutting out the middle man. Anyway, 'Sis', you stay here and catch up with your Mother and I'll call you if we get busy." Sofia marched back towards the kitchens for more food. Stevens followed her all the way with watery eyes, unconsciously licking his lips. "Such a lovely girl," Mrs Stevens said, unaware of her husband's diverted attention, "Have you known Lady Sofia for long, Isla?" "Over a year, I think," Isla said as she thought back, "Of course we call each other every day, and I pop down here regularly, so it seems like I've known her forever. You could say we're best friends." "You're not ... er ... you know ... same-er-same-sex er lovers are you?" her mother whispered worriedly, "She looks far too young." "Get real, Mother! Sofe's only 14, she's still at school," Isla snorted, then pointing to the two footmen greeting arrivals with drinks at the entrance, "My boyfriend's Harry, the one on the left." "A footman?!" exploded her mother after looking at Isla's target, who became aware he had become the centre of their attention, and waved back with a smile, "I mean, he's very cute and all, Isla dear, but you're going to be a medical doctor soon and he'll be out of your class." "Oh, nobody worries about that kind of thing nowadays, Mother, I'm only using him for a bit of fun. And he's not usually a footman at all but he's another volunteer, we all are." "What does he do, then, dear?" "Some kind of banker, I think." "A bank clerk," Brenda sneered, "Locally?" "No, in the City. Some junior management position in the family merchant bank. I think he's some kind of viscount or baron or probably both; he has about twelve titles in front of his name. I just call him Harry." "Are you staying here ... with Harry?" her mother asked and, as an afterthought as if Sofia's earlier conversation had only just sunk in, "And why does Lady Sofia call you 'Sis'?" "I'm not staying here with Harry, he's got his own apartment at his father's place. I'm staying with Dad, of course, Mother." "Your Dad lives around here?" Brenda was thinking of all the lovely houses in the village, with this palace as a perfect backdrop, of course. Trading Up "Not around here, Mother, but here in Barton Grange, he has a suite of rooms in the East Wing, actually." "A suite?" "For his surgery practice, you know, his waiting and examination rooms plus an apartment of two bedrooms, kitchen and drawing room, it's cosy," Isla said, with a toss of her long red tresses, "As for Sofia regarding me as a big sister, it was once a sort of joke between us that she's called me 'Sis' since virtually Day One." "What's 'Day One', honey?" Brenda asked, "And why would calling you 'Sis' be a joke?" "Well, that brings us to the Valentine Ball. You know what surprises women can spring on Valentine's Day in a Leap Year, don't you?" "You - you're going to propose to Harry, or even Lady Sofia's brother, the young Duke?" her Mother stuttered, her eyes wide open at the thought of her daughter becoming titled. "Get real, Mother, Harry's fun to be around but he's a bit immature, and Jeremy's a sweet guy who will make a fine Duke once he settles into the job, but he's just not my type, he's more like a ... brother, really," Isla said, in a slightly exasperated voice, "No, Sofia's Mummy Maria is going to be proposing to Dad on the stroke of midnight, which will be the start of Valentine's Day. So eventually, I will actually become Sofe and Jeremy's sister!" "Your Dad and ... and the Duchess? But, but - how the fff-?" Just then Sofia returned to the tables ladened with a large platter of smoked salmon. She took over the commentary from Isla with a wide grin. "Oh, it wasn't the most romantic of starts between the loving couple, admittedly, more carnage than carnal, you could say," she giggled. "All due to a misunderstanding on Mummy's part, and easily cleared up once our lovely physician healed himself," Sofia and Isla laughed, "But Mummy kept apologising for what she did until Dad eventually shut her up with a kiss which absolutely rocked her world." "Kiss ... Dad?" Brenda asked, bewildered by events. "Sofe's been calling Dad 'Dad', almost since Day One, haven't you, Sofe?" Isla chipped in. "And it looks like I'll be calling Sofe's Mummy 'Mum' very soon as well. I might even start doing that from tonight." "But I'm your 'Mum', Isla dear," Brenda whined, her bottom lip wobbling with emotion. "No, Mrs Brenda Stevens, you're my 'Mother'," Isla said firmly, "You stopped being my 'Mum' when you passed over my lovely Dad for that fat pimp sleazeball boyfriend you've since married." "Isla!" "Face it, Mother," Isla said, "Your trip up here to get back in either Jeremy or Maria's good books was a complete waste of time. The reason why the Bartonshire Estate have completely dropped all trading with your husband's dodgy meat company is because they habitually supplied whore parties for their major suppliers, including the late Duke, who caught a sexually transmitted disease as a consequence. That singular misfortune put the kibosh on his marriage and any chance of the Estate renewing any business relationship with Stevens here." "No!" Brenda screamed and turned to her husband, "Neville?" Neville Stevens was already beating a hasty retreat towards the entrance, leaving his wife behind in tears. Even his bald head shone red with embarrassment. "Never mind, Mother," Isla said, as she put a comforting arm around her mother's shuddering shoulders, "You're well rid of that rubbish." "But how will I get home, will I even have a home to go to?" "We can put you up here for a day or two, Mrs Stevens," Sofia offered, "And I'm sure Dad'll sort out something for you long term. He's like that, a real hero." "Will your Mummy be OK with Ian helping me out?" Sofia and Isla looked at each other and grinned. Sofia started, "I think that she will be otherwise ..." "... Engaged!" finished Isla. They both laughed. Brenda looked at both of them in turn, realising that far from trading up by leaving Ian and taking up with the odious Stevens, she had traded down. "Ah, here comes the happy couple now," Sofia said, smiling, looking up to the top of the grand staircase. Brenda looked up, as did everyone else in the ballroom. The arm-in-arm couple, the Ball's hosts, were walking slowly down the stairs, clinging tightly, one to the other. The Duchess was absolutely stunning, glowing even, thought Brenda. She was tall and slim, elegant in her long silk dress in a deep emerald, bringing out the best in her olive skin and black hair, piled up thick and high on her head. The jewels around her swan neck and one slender wrist sparkled in the light from the crystal chandelier overhead. The lamps couldn't outdo the sparkle in her eyes though, or outshine her spectacularly joyful smile. Brenda turned her attention to her ex-husband, who was proudly holding the new love in his life by her arm. Ian looked handsome in his smart tuxedo, slim and relaxed, comfortable in his relationship with such a beautiful woman. The gracious lady on his arm was someone who loved him so completely that she was prepared to give up the grandeur of her title by proposing marriage to the common man she loved completely. Brenda couldn't avoid the comparison between the handsome man so clearly adored by her daughter, Isla's best friend, and the vision of loveliness by his side, that she had so recently given up for the cowardly fat sleaze ball, who ran away at the discovery of practices that Brenda had suspected but ignored until now. Brenda felt emotion rising at the image of Ian and Maria before her, looking every inch the perfect couple, both wreathed in smiles. The whole assembly, who funnelled into the entrance hall from the ballroom, started clapping spontaneously as they progressed down the staircase, Brenda included. "They look such a beautiful couple," Brenda sniffed, blinking away the tears, and whispered aside to her daughter, "So the Duchess is going to propose to Ian this evening?" "Yes, immediately after midnight, just as it becomes Valentine's Day," Isla smiled. "And it's going to be a surprise for your father?" "Well, Mummy thinks it's going to be a surprise," Sofia added, "But 'Dad' knows what's going to happen." "Suspects or knows?" Brenda asked. "Well, Mrs Stevens, I can tell you that Mummy and 'Dad' have discussed marriage before but 'Dad' was nobly insistent that he wouldn't want to rob Mummy of her title until Jeremy properly took over as the head of the family. Mummy decided to outmanoeuvre him tonight," Sofia whispered, "But then, a loving daughter couldn't possibly keep such an important secret from her adopted 'Dad', could she?" "So you're the loving daughter, eh?" Brenda cocked an eyebrow at Sofia, who merely smiled and nodded. "Ian looks too happy to be thinking about turning her down," Brenda suggested, "And Maria looks, well, blissfully happy and beautiful." "Maria will get down on one knee and ask for his hand," Isla said, "And Dad will say 'Yes'. He already knows before Maria tells him the good news that they have to get married because he'll be a father again, about late August, early September." "But what about her grand title?" Brenda continued, "I really should have been happy just being Mrs Cameron, but won't she miss being the Dowager Duchess of Bartonshire?" "Don't worry, Mother," Isla assured her, "Mum will have to give up the title when she marries Dad, but she won't be trading down at all as she can always fall back on the original title that she was born with, can't she, Sofe?" "She certainly can and I'm sure she will, Sis," laughed Sofia. "And that title is?" enquired Brenda. "Princess Maria, of course," Sofia said proudly, "Her Royal Highness Princess Maria of Greece." The End. Trading Up or Down? No one would ever believe that I fucked Jonathon. He and I are not very well matched. I have beautiful curves, 36-24-40, long dark hair, and a baby face. I'm not snobby but I have to admit, I come from a good family, I was accepted to a good college, and Ricky, a star athlete at Cal Tech, has been following me around like a puppy. Every one knows me, I'm pretty sure there is a Bianca Martinez fan club in the school somewhere. Jonathon is lanky, tall, a big nerd. He has slight acne, no muscles and a nasally voice that tends to sound condescending. His clothes are always dirty or have a big hole that he never tries to cover, his overall game is pretty weak. The only reason we even know each other is because we both are interns at a governmental employment agency. We are the youngest people there at 18, the next youngest person is 32. I have always dressed kind of sexy, I love skirts that hug my ass, so I have to find interesting ways to skirt those rules about professional attire. A lot of the middle aged losers who work there have there tongues wagging when I walk by. All I have to do is say hello. Its that easy. Jonathon is the type of person I would never give the time of day, except... he ignores me. While the rest of the guys in the office are always offering to buy me lunch and give me presents (even though I'm old enough to be their daughter), Jonathon is just calming typing or filing or doing whatever his job entails. Even when I wear my hair down, and my breasts are pushed up and my skirt is hiked, he is always professional and polite, even cold. At first I wasn't' bothered, but then, I started getting a little annoyed. I started flirting with him. I touched his arm and his shoulder a little more than necessary. I grazed my ass against the seat of his pants to move past him. I smiled and flipped my hair. Every other guy in the office, especially our boss Todd, responded as if I was doing all of that to them. I could see their dicks make their pants become tents, it looked like a national park in that building. Even Jonathon was wearing down. Still, it wasn't working as fast as I wanted it to. I wanted Jonathon because he didn't want me, and I wanted him bad. It was late in the afternoon, a scorcher that day, but the air conditioning made the building ice cold. Jonathon and I had a lot of work to do, typing, filing and faxing. I invited him in the break room in the basement to warm up. The basement doesn't have any air, I guess management's way of making everyone work. I decided to fuck Jonathon right there in that break room, to make him want me so bad. I would become a whore. As soon as we got to the room, I took off my tight black sweater, putting it on the back of the low chair. All I had on now was a black skirt that was so short, it threatened to reveal a piece of my ass, and a tight black wife beater. I curled my hair and had recently pierced my bellybutton, the ring peaked through. Jonathon just toddled over to the vending machines and took out a torn-up dollar trying to insert it into the machine. He spent over 5 mins. trying to force that damn dollar in there just for some old ass bag of chips. It was so pathetic. I walked over and rubbed my tits on his chest. "Do you need any help with that?" I said sweetly, smiling in his face. "Yeah, do you have change for a dollar?" He said in that nasally voice. I was so angry. I was throwing myself at him, and all he could do was beg for quarters for some snacks? I looked at him like he was an idiot. Then I finally just went for the gusto. I put my manicured hand on top of his nerdy "work pants" and unzipped the zipper, slipping my hand in to feel a surprisingly long and warm dick slowly getting hard. I led him by his dick over to the table, turning him around. He leaned up against the table, smiling as if he knew this was going to happen. I stooped down on my knees and unbuttoned his pants, and then his tighty-whities. His dick sprang up. It had to be at 9 inches, thick as a sausage with a huge head. I slowly licked his dick, on the soft underside and suckled gently on the head. Now I'm not a whore or anything, but I know my shit. He moaned and groaned loudly. It was so hot down there, the only reason I noticed was because of the beads of sweat on his face. I licked and sucked for at least 10 mins. I even sucked on his balls. This loser had the nerve to grab my head and try to fuck the shit out of my face. I have to admit, his whole take charge attitude turned me on. He pulled me to my feet. He took off my shirt and low cut lacy bra and roughly sucked on my large, stiff nipples. It was my turn to moan loudly. He then turned me around and bent me over the table. He ripped off me small black thong and rubbed his dick against my pussy, coating it with my juices. I couldn't believe that this geek got me this wet! I thought he was going to just start fucking me hard and fast, but he instead grabbed my shoulder and started inserting his dick inch by inch. He was torturing me! I wanted him to fuck me so bad, I moaned and begged and pleaded. I could almost hear his smile as he started stroking slowly, hitting my spot forcefully, making my pussy turn into a fountain. I felt a trickle of my own juices slide down my leg. I couldn't let this geek turn me out so easily. I started squeezing my pussy on his dick, making my pussy pretty much suck his dick. He tried to hold on and keep up his tortuously slow stroking, but then he snapped. He grabbed my soft hips and started drilling for oil. He grunted and groaned his hips slapped against my ass. I was biting my lip, trying not to scream. I knew that there was a chance someone would come down there looking for us, but this dude was fucking me too royally to try to stop. He turned me over again and lifted me up on the table. He inserted his slick dick back in my pussy and stroked, fast and slow. He was driving me crazy. I had cum about 5 times before he finally blew up my pussy. He seemed to have gallons and gallons of cum stored up just for me. We were both sweaty by then and breathing hard. He immediately got up and put his clothes on. I need a minute to catch my breath. I was still buttoning my sweater and getting ready to leave when he walked out of the door. I sat down on one of the chairs in the break room trying to calm down. I was still sitting there when he popped his head back in and said "I knew you wanted this dick." I couldn't stop laughing. Trading Up I waited as she threw her clothes and a few knick-knacks into trash bags, then I heard her yell in frustration and horror when she discovered that Brandon had found and taken her secret stash "How much did you have?" I asked as I tied a bag full of clothes closed and threw it over my shoulder. She attempted not to sob as she told me a few thousand dollars. I glanced into the living room again as I passed it, but instead of an impressive array of electronics, I saw dollar signs. Kaye was easy to convince, angry and hurt as she was, but as we were dropping the last armload of DVD's into my trunk, she grabbed the camcorder and said "I have an idea." with an evil little grin. I followed her back inside, where she put the camera down on the coffee table and pushed me back on the couch. I shared her grin as she started undressing, throwing her sweater, jeans and panties in a pile – my pants and boxers quickly joining them – before she climbed into my lap, straddling my legs. She grabbed my hardening shaft and pumped it a few times, sucking on my lips as she did. Then she lifted up just enough, aimed the head at her gash and sunk down over my cock. "Oh God Damn! Your dick feels so good inside me!" she laughed loudly, probably mostly for the camera's benefit, but it felt good to hear either way. She rode roughly, wrenching and stuffing my dick inside her as she moved in odd circles on my lap. I undid her bra and let her perky tits free, only to catch one dark pink nipple between my lips as I grabbed her ass and spread, letting the camera – and Brandon - get a better view of my dick slicing in and out of Kaye's glistening pit. She held my head to her breast and cooed, panted, moaned, and slammed her pelvis down harder into mine. I released her nipple reluctantly, and told her "Turn around and let him see what he'll never get to touch again." Kaye grinned and kissed me, sliding her nimble tongue into my mouth, and then climbed off my lap, spun and sat back down on my cock, staring into the camera and flipping its lens off as she impaled herself on me again. She bounced on me a few times, but I doubted there was a very good view of her in that position, so I grabbed her by the shoulders and jerked her back to me. Then I spread her legs, lifting them by the backs of her knees and thrust up into her cunt. "Oh! Fuck! Yes!" Kaye screamed as I held her body and pounded her pussy. This time I felt her convulse, and her hands fisted around my wrists as her screams reached deafening octaves. Her abs jumped and twitched as she tried to rock her cunt down on my cock as it brought her to climax. "I'm gonna cum, KD." I told her breathlessly but didn't stop or slow the hollowing of her pink tunnel. "Oh do it!" she moaned. "Cum in my pussy! Do it now!" Kaye's body rocked as I thrust into her over and over, trying to get as deep inside of her as I could before I painted her walls pearly white. I let her legs down and Kaye gyrated slowly on my lap, milking her own orgasm and my dick for a few long minutes while I caressed her back with my hands. She got off my lap with a groan, standing in front of the camera and fondling her lips and folds until globs of sperm started falling out and splattering on the carpet. "Good God, dude." Kaye gaped. "You keep dropping loads like that inside me and I'm gonna wind up pregnant." We took turns flipping off the camera as we got dressed, and then left trying to avoid being seen by the neighbors just in case Brandon was smart enough to call the cops. I had to fight for my job when I got back home, but it was worth it to keep my place and my new girl. It was about two months after when I told Kaye I loved her, and with the promise of two lovers waiting on her, Cici remained faithful and after her trial, community service, and parole were over moved in with Kaye and I. Cici's submissive took over when she arrived and she became a pet, our fuck toy, and shortly after Kaye's and my wedding she was also a live-in nanny since she couldn't manage to keep a regular job. But what actually happened was... "I'd totally fuck Jeremy." Kaye admitted and then it was her turn to get the shocked stares. "What?" she shrugged. "I would. He's big and tough looking, and he has that hot southern accent, and a half-decent job, a rent-controlled apartment, his own car, and he cares enough about his girlfriend to risk being put in prison to drive twenty hours to spend a few days with her." Kaye drew a card, laid down a match to empty her hand, and declared three things – "Face it, Jeremy is a great catch, I have every right to be jealous of Cici, and I just kicked your asses at rummy." I cuddled closer to Cici, and kissed her. "You wouldn't need to worry babydoll; you're the only woman I want." I fibbed. Two games of rummy later and I was regretting not making my move. "It's late, I need some sleep." I told them and stood up from the table, but before I could make it out of the kitchen, Kaye's cellphone rung. It was Brandon, calling to apologize and beg for Kaye to come home. She was just drunk enough to buy it I guess and got Katelyn to drive her back over there. Cici and I retired up to her room to have sloppy half-asleep sex before passing out, and I left alone the next day. I got home to find I had been fired because my boss hadn't been telling his boss that I was calling in daily while I was sick, and I ended up having to move into my mother's basement to keep from being homeless. A few weeks later Kaye and Brandon finally split after he got her pregnant and claimed there was no way the baby was his. Around the same time as Kaye was looking for a decent family to adopt her bastard child, I found out Cici had whored herself out several times with guys she had met playing World of Warcraft, some of them she had slept with for money, others just for favors in the game, but most of them she fucked just because she could and thought I'd never find out.