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You Choose

By: slinc



Sally Lincoln

I had been lazy all day, still in my favorite terrycloth bathrobe when I answered the insistent knocking on the door. 

"I need help." 

"What is it?" I said, ushering her inside. The door clicked shut on the sun drenched afternoon, and my fingers fiddled with a strand of hair. How I must look to her?

My neighbor, Alyssa McDonald, flowed into a chair at the cheap kitchen table Allen and I received as a wedding present years ago, and was very happy I'd cleaned up last night's dishes, even if it was only minutes earlier. 

Alyssa always looked like she'd just come from a hair stylist. I frowned, unlike myself, especially today. Hadn't even taken a brush to my sleep-matted hair, and I'd been up . . . a quick glance at the wall clock, told me it'd been five hours.

Allen's inherited grandfather clock in the living room chimed one to confirm it.

"Before you tell me what's wrong, I can make coffee, but only have Boone's Farm in the frig."

Her nose wrinkled at the invitation, but she said, "bring out the animals. I need a drink."

Something definitely bothered Alyssa, for she doesn't like wine. 

We were on our second glass each when she opened up. "I'd like to give Rod something he's never had before."

"Oh, It's your husband's birthday?"

"No," she said, her frown tossed the absurdity of my words with the ease a professional wrestler threw an amateur opponent. "I just want to give him something special, and I'm having trouble coming up with something appropriate. What do you think?"

Considering the emphasis she put on the word 'special,' made the sentence almost sound dirty. I'd put Rod and Alyssa in the not so adventuresome category, especially in the bedroom. There were no facts concerning this, just that they're so ordinary. They have two children, a girl, Cynthia, age fourteen, and Rodney twelve, and live across the street from Allen and I in this small neighborhood of Minden, New York. Seems like the worst thing they do on Sunday is holding hands.

"I do mean sexually," Alyssa said, nodding her head, and making 'big eyes' which was more funny than serious, "and stop looking so shocked." 

"We've known each other since before the children, and mentioned sex . . . maybe a handful of times, but never talked . . . intimate relationships. I'm just a little surprised."

"If you'd rather not . . ."

Her voice trailed off as I toyed with the condensation rings on the Formica tabletop before answering, "It's fine."

"Good, because this is an important week," she went on, "Rod was promoted, and I've been trying without success to find something exquisite to do for him that he will like."

"You could always bake his favorite cake." 

She laughed, but it was a what-the-hell-are-you-thinking kind of hilarity. 

"I was thinking something non-fattening, and what both of us would enjoy."

"Why ask me?"

"Because, you're the best friend I have, so who would I ask? The bag lady on the corner?"

"I don't know if I'm comfortable suggesting something for you and your husband to do in bed. And don't look at me that way," I said, pointing a finger in her direction. "I'm not a prude. Just never had anyone ask me about sexual situations."

"Shit girl, I really need help."

Her face crumbled in that pathetic way Alyssa used when it was something significant she needed. Compared to her, I'm probably pretty experienced and should suggest something easy. 

"You could be waiting for him at the door naked when he comes home."

"Done that."

I don't think surprise showed on my face, but I was taken aback by the admission, and felt my eyebrows rise.

"I would liked to have seen that," I said. 

"I'll show you," Alyssa said, and getting up, her fingers worked the buttons on her blouse.

Something I didn't expect went through me at that moment, something hot and very basic.

"Stop," I said. "Meant to say¬¬----wish I could have seen Rod's face, when he saw you naked in the doorway."

"Was funny, actually," she said, a smile growing on the ample lips, and to my undecided relief, Alyssa sat back into the chair, and leaned forward, eyes capturing mine. "He rushed inside . . . looked to see if the neighbors had seen, slammed the door and rushed me upstairs."

"Ohhh, fun, fun." I giggled, the wine breaking down some preset defenses, and I envisioned myself being carried upstairs, thrown on the bed and ravaged by a sex-starved mate. A madcap Rod had replaced Allen in my little mental video, and I shut it down quickly. 

"My husband gets very excited seeing me naked," Alyssa said.

"Nothing wrong with that."

"Nothing better."

Alyssa, purposely made her boobies jiggle with a rapid rotation of her shoulders, the nipples already stiff from remembering. "You should have seen . . . what he did."

I didn't answer, but imagined.

"But, you don't want to do that again, I suppose?"

"It was really, really good, but this has to be something we've never tried." 

"What would he like? Have you asked?"

"Don't have to, I know."

"Well then . . ."

"I won't do that."

What could be so bad . . . unless he was a saddest, and that I couldn't picture?

She placed her elbows on the table, and it wiggled from the increased weight. Have to get Allen to tighten the leg screws again. What was that, the third time this month? My eyes grazed the gap in Alyssa's pink blouse where she had failed to re-button it. The smooth top and half the side of a breast peeked through the opening like a flesh-colored balloon. The darkness of her long hair made that wonderful oval face pale in comparison, and I leaned back in my chair, suddenly not trusting myself. The gaze of those piercing grey eyes challenged me, passed right through my self-confidence like twin beams of light. 

Deeply aware of Alyssa's trim body, I tore my eyes away. A woman has never made me feel that I'd like to experiment in that direction. I'm heterosexual damn it, but my eyes kept wanting to return. Not big in the boob department, but after each child, she had worked to get her figure back. I think of Alyssa as a friend, but it became difficult to swallow and my next words were forced.

"Have you thought," I said, making eye contact, "of giving him a sudden blow job the moment he gets home?"

This time her head bobbed, and I was getting into the idea of suggesting sexual content, and becoming more randy by the second. 

"Have you let him cum in your mouth . . . men like that?"

"Honey," she said, "I've swallowed so much spunk I'm getting a mustache. How's yours?" Her hand was oven hot on my arm. 

"What?"

"Nothing," she said, waving the question away with one delicate hand. "Anymore wine?"

Filling our glasses from a second bottle, I sloshed some on the table.

"Ohh, don't waste it," Alyssa said, and for a second, my mind saw her full lips on the table top, slurping up the spilt liquid with cum-like abandonment. 

"Oops," I'd said, but the word came out sounding like, uups, and when she laughed, I joined her.

"No problem," she said, and dipping one long finger in the liquid placed it to her lips. 

I shivered as her tongue curled about the penis like digit, sucking wine over those plump, juicy lips. I confess to a wave of heat that raced across my face, making me wonder what it would have been like to suck wine from that finger. A few seconds later Alyssa said, "Come."

"Where?"

"No, wish I had some." 

We both laughed again.

"If Allen was here," I blurted out the wine induced words, "I'd give his fat dick a huge, wet kiss."

"I would too," Alyssa said, and we erupted with laughter.

Then the room was silent as we wrestled with the implications of what had just taken place. 

"Was that agreement I saw in your face?"

"No," I said.

"That was pretty quick, and definite."

"Allen would never go for that."

"What about you?"

"Me?"

"What do you think if both of us were waiting behind our front door when Rod comes home this evening? I trust you, and Allen wouldn't have to know."

Heat returned to my face, and I knew it was burning-red, nerves along my spine turned jelly, and my head swam.

"Alyssa, I've experimented, but never cheated on Allen."

Her forehead took on a questioning look. "What kind of experimentation?"

The question wasn't distressing, but in the quickness of my answer, all the built up defenses of years had been over-ridden, and I did indeed crave this conversation. 

"I've let Allen come on my tits, and rubbed it into my skin," I said, my hands making passionate circles over my thirty-eights. I brightened. "Maybe Rod would like that."

"If you did it, I'm sure he would." She grinned, stared at what my hands were doing, making me self-conscious. I wasn't aware that I'd picked up the glass, but downing a quick swallow the burning fluid stuck in my throat, and I coughed. 

"Easy girl," Alyssa said. "You all right?"

She was beside me then, rubbing my back before I could choke again. The softness of her breast under the blouse brushed my face, and I coughed again, this time to cover the little gasp that came from me. The fragrance of her body made me tremble.

"You okay?"

When I nodded, she backed away, took a sip of her own drink, and I watched as she swished the berry flavored liquid around the inside of her mouth before swallowing. Everything she did, I thought, was calculated to elicit a sexual response. Mentally, I felt the taste of air washing over her teeth with each breath she took, and the burning of her gums from the evaporating alcohol set my inner being on fire. 

"Humm," Alyssa said, "top this, if you can. I've sucked and jacked Rod off, let him squirt on my face and then slurped up what missed like a suckling pig."

"I don't like that," I said.

She stared in disbelief before saying, "You don't like oral sex?"

"Oh, I like it when he does me, and I give Allen pleasure that way, I just don't like the taste."

"Ohh, too bad." 

"I do firmly believe in giving for receiving, and just because I don't enjoy the taste of semen doesn't mean that I won't or don't swallow."

"Good girl," she said. "I don't know a man who doesn't love having a woman give him head, and then watch as she swallows everything."

Alyssa was warming to her subject, the words rapid, like a ball rolling downhill. "I particularly like being on bottom during sixty-nine."

"Aren't you afraid of being choked?"

Alyssa's full lips pouted, and I imagined them wrapped around her husband's member, him thrusting, his man things slapping against her nose and forehead. Her voice broke my sexual reverie.

"Rod is considerate," she was saying, " but there are times when I want it a little rough."

"You enjoy being dominated?"

"Well . . . I've always loved having a dick in my mouth . . . gives me a charge, the deeper the better, and yes, I do like being dominated more than normal." 

"Not me," I said. "I want control."

"Control, shit. You don't know what's good girl. If you've never tried it . . . ah hell, stick with what you know. If you enjoy the same old thing night after night, go for it. Who am I to try to change your sex life? Let's get back to my problem."

"You could always put a piece of pie in your pussy and let Al . . . Rod eat it out." The laugh that followed was very drunk, and I vowed this was my last glass of wine.

"We've done veggies," she admitted, matter-of-fact. "Rod likes it."

"What?"

"You heard . . ."

"Yes, but I just can't believe . . . I was only joking about the pie."

"I'm sure the crust would get soggy anyway," Alyssa said, her high-pitched laugh pierced the kitchen like a siren. "Besides, what's experimenting if you don't try new things?"

"That means things like Ben-Wa balls and vibrators, not food."

"I have a vibrator, but never tried¬¬----Ben-Wa balls. What do they feel like?" Alyssa asked, her tongue a pink butterfly flittering about those mouthwatering lips.

"Takes some getting used to, and they can fall out if the muscles aren't strong enough, but very pleasurable."

"Love to try them, where did you find yours?"

"In my chest of drawers," I said, trying to match her wit.

"I will admit you have a nice chest," and she reached across the table, gauging the heft of one. "Umm, heavy. I meant where you purchased your balls."

I wanted to say when I married, but her fingers feeling my boob stopped me. 

"Where we get most things like that, the Internet," I said. "Didn't know which ones I'd like, so I bought two pair, and I've never tried the bigger ones, still in the package. You can have them if you want."

"Really, you don't need them?"

"I'll get them, wait here." I had to hold the back of the chair to stand straight, and waited until the swaying ceased.

"Be careful, girl, don't need you falling." She giggled. "At least not until after I get my balls played with."

"That's funny," I said, heading for the bedroom. I remembered where I'd placed the package . . . adding to it the pair I'd been using, to show her the difference.

"Here they are," I said, handing her the small parcel. "The ones I use are all metal. Those you're holding are smaller metal balls inside a larger plastic covering." I winked at her. "Supposed to give more stimulation, as they move around. Instructions inside the package."

"Shit, I thought you could show me."

I'd had just enough wine, and agreed without thought.

Her slacks were down and she was stepping out of them before I could say Jack Crap. She wore dainty pink panties with a darker pink lacing around the waistband which rolled over her hips in a second. My eyes followed as she kicked the dainty cloth into the air.

"Nice catch," I said, and she unrolled them, dropping the pink bundle to the chair.

"What now?"

"First we wash them." 

My voice cracked like I'd just come from a long trip into the desert. The simple knot I'd put in the robe belt came undone, the robe opened when I moved to the sink. 

"Oh," she said, "you're shaved. That's cool."

I smiled, didn't bother to pull the robe back around me. Shameless, shit-faced bitch that I am.

The cleaning process was quick and using warm water would give us advanced pleasure. I couldn't help but notice that Alyssa's bush was trimmed in a little arrow leading to the center of her pleasure spot. 

"All right," she said, "how does this work?"

"Like a tampon, string outside." I pushed and the smaller ones slipped passed my guardian folds on either side and eased inside. "Like that."

I thought she watched a bit more intense than was necessary.

"Go on," I said, "put them in."

I watched as she spread the pedals of her blossoming flower, and using two fingers the happy balls slipped inside.

"See, easy as pie."

We giggled at the quip.

"And just as good to eat," she said, rubbing her pleasure button below that trimmed line of hair. "Ohh, yes," she said, Alyssa's hips rotating provocatively. "That is nice." A clunk, and Mr. Ben-Wa struck the floor.

"Told you the muscles might not be strong enough yet. Go wash your balls."

Again, hilarious drunken laughter.

When she went to the sink, I noticed that her little heart-shaped ass didn't just sway, it snapped with each step, like there was a hitch in her step. Captivating and suggestive. I could understand how a man would become attracted to that astonishing rear end. "When you're done," I said, "follow me."

Once in the bedroom, I turned to see where she was, but Alyssa was right behind me. 

"On," I ordered, pointing and she flopped on this mornings newly made bed. The only thing I'd managed to accomplish today. Her light blouse ballooned, exposing breasts, that weren't as small as I had at first thought.

Sitting next to those long legs, the smell of her intoxicated my senses to the point my hands were shaking when I inserted her pleasure balls as far as my second knuckle. I'd never been this close to a strange pussy, and my nerves were on a razor's edge. The fingers I'd used to insert the device into Alyssa's vagina went to my mouth in an autonomic reaction. My taste buds flared. Better than my own secretions, my mind created all sorts of fantasies.

My long hair slipped across Alyssa's naked thigh, and she sucked in a quick, sharp breath, so I did it again. 

"Now don't move around. Just clench and unclench your muscles down there to help strengthen them, and in a few days you'll be able to walk around without fearing that they'll embarrass you."

"I have to stay in your bed that long?"

"Yes," I said, half wishing that were true. 

Alyssa smiled, "I can do that."

I traced an invisible line across her flat stomach, circled her belly button, and Alyssa's breath caught, her chest heaving. I bent down, planted a tender kiss right above that little dished out area of flesh. My tongue circled the rim, worked its way into the depths with annoying slowness. My lips surrounded that tiny, dry well, and I sucked the soft flesh there, wondering what she would do if I went lower. 

Her breathing quickened and she whispered, "I hope you know what you're doing."

That was all the encouragement needed. My fingers took over with a mind of their own, slipping under her blouse like they had done it a thousand times. I traced the under side of one soft breast with the back of my fingers. 

When I cupped a breast, she groaned, her breathing sporadic, and I was headed in the correct direction; fondling the other, taking both nipples between forefingers and thumbs, I twisted and pulled until her moaning became loud. 

Alyssa took both my breasts in her warm hands, sending electrical currents through my entire body. We stayed like that for some time. Once I squeezed a little too hard, and she returned the favor. It was as if we were doing ourselves. Beyond dreaming, both of us were groaning and moaning. My heart pounded like a wild filly, and knew that my blood pressure must be hitting one-ninety. 

The fleshy spot between her legs held a great fascination. Not that she was so different, the lips did seem a little larger, and with a gentle circling of that area it opened like the flower it resembled. Alyssa moaned when I pushed two fingers inside passed the first knuckle. Mr. Ben-Wa moved to the side, giving me room. I knew what I liked and spreading my fingers apart, rotated my wrist with a slow back and forth motion. The washing machine, Allen called it, and to cover my chuckle at the musing, my tongue sought her clit. Tongue and fingers brought Alyssa to the edge, but not stopping, she went over and passed, shaking with pleasure.

"Ahhh. that's sooo, good," she whimpered, coming down.

"You're not done yet." 

The taste of my first pussy had my head swimming. Couldn't get enough, lapped up everything she had to give me, and wanted more. Between her legs now on my belly, both hands working those ridged post like nipples, face plastered tight, my entire mouth over her juicy sex. 

I sucked and played her like a vertical harmonica, each ministration bringing inhuman sounds I'd never heard before, and reveled in each one. She pushed upward into my face, and I buried two fingers all the way inside that beautiful pussy, the third finger seeking her tight little anus. 

She let out a grunt as that finger entered, and tried to move away, but I had her trapped now. All three of my fingers seemed to be rubbing together and Alyssa groaned with each thrust, moving in conjunction with me. I worked my little finger into her rectum alongside the other, stretching her sphincter as I worked on her clit with thumb and tongue. All at once her ass lifted off the bed and she convulsed. She didn't speak, but sucked in each breath as if it were being forced by a huge pump, but I didn't stop until she fell back on the bed. My fingers popped out and I ceased oral stimulation, right after giving that beautiful blossom a final kiss. For a second, I thought she'd fainted or had a heart attack, then her breathing began again, smoothing out.


You Choose



"Never had oral that way," she whispered so low it was difficult to hear, and I didn't know if she were talking to me or herself. 

"I'm happy to show you something different."

"Larddd all mighty, but that was amazing," Alyssa said, her entire body shivered as if she were going through another orgasm. With eyes half-closed, her face sultry and relaxed, she looked very pleased, totally satisfied.

"You are exceptional," she said, one hand caressing my face.

I smiled, a little embarrassed that it was a first time for me. Still, there was some pride in that I had done so well, but then I knew what I liked Allen to do for me, and at that moment, I thought of an answer to Alyssa's problem. 

After dinner and our usual nighttime rituals, I waited impatiently for Allen to finish up, my mind in total anticipation. He entered from the bathroom, and looking up I saw that he was in an almost condition.

The mattress gave way under his weight, and felt that telltale slipping toward his side. I placed the book I wasn't reading on my nightstand, and when I turned back, his manhood stared me in the face. 

"You want me to bite?"

"No, no bite I."

"Think I'm joking?"

He leaned over me, grabbed the bedstead, brushing the tip of himself across my cheek and nose, knowing I would never really hurt him on purpose.

Normally, I don't mind Allen being forward, but tonight I had something else in mind, and didn't want to waste his precious juice. Still, the look and man smell of him, and the slight wetness of his pre-come made me want him more. Rubbing my face over his rapidly lengthening member, which began to fatten, I grabbed his ass cheeks, pulled him to me, my polished nails digging into the firm flesh.

"Yeow, easy!"

"Oh, I'm sooo sorry," I said, not meaning a word, and he knew it. No matter what happened during the day, I might not like him all that much, but always love and want to please him, and never keep sex from him because I'm angry.

I plastered my lips against the very tip of him, nibbling not too gently. My tongue sought the tiny slit in the barrel of Allen's fleshy gun, wanting the clear fluid that seeped there. I've often wondered why tasting pre-cum swept my inhibitions away, like it was some fabled fairy juice. I sucked hard, my tongue running up and down on the soft underside in swift butterfly movements. 

"Oh baby," he said. "You know what I like."

"Es, ah doo," I mumbled around the thickness of him.

With increased pressure, Allen indicated that he wanted his cock all the way inside, and I had to be careful that he didn't cum too soon. Sometimes, when he's worked up, he pushes his cock in so deep it's difficult to swallow, and when that happens, he cums right now. He's just a once-a-night man, but will please me other ways, even after he's shot his load, so I wasn't worried at being left sexed up. Tonight though, I needed him in my own way, and I'd been thinking about this all day. 

Allowing Allen some depth, I stopped him by gripping the base, just before the tip lodged against the back of my throat. I don't mind when I'm ready, to take his full length, but I have to prepare, and in his eagerness, he sometimes forgets.

"Ohooo, honey. You know what I need."

As his hips moved, the meat of him slid inside his outer skin like sheath, forcing my fist tight to my lips. He began to tremble, the telltale sign, and I made him pop out.

"Ohhhh, honey, not yet." He groaned, hips still in motion.

I gave his producer of pleasure a final kiss, and for good luck planted a couple on his flat stomach as it hovered over my face.

"Relax baby," I said. "I have something in mind that you'll enjoy so much more."

"But, I love your beautiful mouth."

I laughed. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, you just love to cum in it."

"That too," he agreed.

"If you don't like what I have in mind, I'll finish you orally," I said, and watched his smile grow.

I pushed him from straddling my upper torso, and rolled onto my stomach, pulled a pillow under my face, folded my arms in front, and opened for him. 

"Ohhh," Allen whispered. "After all this time, you mean?"

Over my shoulder I said, "I want to try, but you have to promise me first that you'll only insert the head, and if I say stop, that's what you'll do."

"Of course," he said, sounding hurt that I would even mention it.

"There's special lube in the drawer." I indicated my side of the bed with a tilt of my head. "Use plenty."

It took several minutes for him to fumble with the cap, and then I felt him at the backdoor.

"That's cold," I said, shivering, then his finger entered, "Ahhh, easy, baby."

He smeared the buttery syrup all around the inside and outside of my little desirous starfish.

I was both willing and apprehensive beyond words at this point. Then the head of him was pushing at the entrance, and I tried to relax. Impossible. Which made it more difficult for him to enter. It felt like tree trunk at my little entrance. Maybe if I helped a little by heating up my sexual drive. One hand went to my clit, and I thought of all the wonders of climax, and then Allen just sort of . . . popped inside.

"Whoa," I yelped, and he pulled out. "Don't." But it was too late.

"I'm sorry. I was hurting you and couldn't help it."

"Let's try again, but easy this time."

I was very happy that Allen had used his fingers in my backdoor many times before this, when he brought me off orally. I enjoy that, but could imagine what pain there might have been in store for me without it.

Again, that building pressure, and then the gate to my rectum opened and this time he eased inside. When he went through that little ridged area, my ass yawned. I felt his jim-dandy staff with my fingers, rubbed the underside, along the large vein that pulsed with life, and I felt like defecating, but knew that to be wrong. I'd prepared with an enema bottle earlier, but the circumference of him stretched my virgin back door like an expanded rubber inner tube.

"Wait," I said, "wait." And he did. I trust Allen implicitly, but sometimes he can be impetuous and a little overbearing during sex. Thank heaven tonight, he was the perfect gentleman.

"Okay, honey, just a little more," I urged.

I was positive an extra-large diameter sausage pushed into me, not the cock that I loved, and wincing, my breath quickened.

"Stop, stop," I said. "Just rest there."

The muscle that make his cock jump also seemed to expand it. The stretching and relaxing, continued spastically as if his cock was a balloon filled with warm water rushing from tip to base and back. I thought his heart even tapped out a message through it because it began to throb. 

"My god, you are so tight," he whispered, his hands searching and finding my tits squashed between me and the bed covers. I pressed up like I was doing the first portion of a pushup until he had one, his fingers capturing the nipple. Tiny pleasure nips rushed toward my pussy. I could swear he was getting longer. Shit, he was pushing.

"Stop," I said. "Stop it."

"Sorry, sorry . . . couldn't help myself."

"You'd better, or this is your final ass fucking with me."

"Okay, honey, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, won't happen again."

I love it when Allen grovels, but I was very serous this time. In order for me to even think of enjoying his cock in my ass, he was going to learn patience. I was only a little bit agreeable by this time, and anal I could see was going to take time and practice. 

Almost laughed then, thinking that for the very first time I have a man in my ass, and of all people to think about . . . my neighbor. What would Alyssa think, seeing this? The naughtiness of the situation, and the very personal nature of the act, plus the thrill of doing something banned, I felt a different closeness to Allen. We shared something now that few couples are willing to even talk about, let alone attempt. Something most of civilized society considered taboo, and that was more exhilarating than I could explain. 

"I can take a little more," I said, wanting to feel him as deep as he does vaginally. 

His pelvic region had yet to make contact with my ass cheeks, so I knew he was holding himself back, and not even close to halfway inside. It felt like much more, and all I could take at this time. He must have heard my thoughts for he ceased and stiffened.

"Oh, no, I'm sorry, I can't help it," he said. "You're so tight."

Oh my god, Allen's about to cum, my mind screamed and I prepared myself for that final lurch, the sharp pain as he rammed forward. He expanded, causing further tension in my sphincter. My breath sucked in and I held it expecting the worst. A sensation not at all unpleasant, as if hot water shot through the inner sanctum of my ass, once, twice and then a third and fourth time. 

"It's good baby," I said. "Give me every drop." 

Much to my relief, he did not do his normal hip thrusting climax, but held as still as he was able. The large groan that comes from somewhere deep within when he cums, is always a turn-on and deep satisfaction for me. Even at that, a twinge shot through me down there. Nothing I couldn't handle, and admitted the entire event hadn't been as bad as I'd envisioned. As he began to shrink, I pushed my ass back toward him. 

"Humm, that was beautiful, honey," he said, his voice soft as a whisper.

"Thank you," I returned, knowing it could be much better, but if he was happy . . .

Though the muscles at the entrance to my rectum held him rather tight, the lube did its job as he shrunk, the head of his softening penis squished out, and my ass seemed to give a final doting squeeze. Allen rolled off, sank to the bed, out of fuel . . . breathing slowly if not hesitantly. 

Just before a desperate need zipped through my pussy, I knew without doubt this was what Alyssa wouldn't do with her husband, but for now, I needed Allen between my legs another way. 

As if reading my mind, he flipped me over and was there before I could do more than think about it. In as few seconds, I was building toward my own climax. He wouldn't allow that to happen too fast, planting wet kisses on the inner portions of my thighs as I writhed on the sheets like a wounded animal.

The next day, after Allen had gone to work, I called Alyssa, thinking about our time together. That I was a giving person, the nursemaid of family and friends was evident over the past eleven years, but never thought that I would be benevolent to the extent of giving sexual favors. 

"Yes, hello, would you have time to come over . . . I think there's an answer to your dilemma." 

This time, I was dressed when Alyssa knocked on the door, and after we hugged, I steered her inside. 

"I've made coffee, decaf," I said.

"What? No wine?" she said, and laughing held her hands like twin stop signs. "I still have a headache, but coffee might help dissipate the pain."

"Sorry. That wasn't intentional, but I probably should have cautioned you about the after effects of The Farm."

"Might have warned me too, that you were going to take advantage," she said, a big grin lighting her face. 

"Taking advantage, shit--you enjoyed yourself."

She grinned. "I did, but you did say something about my problem. You have a solution?"

"Maybe," I said, getting down two mugs for the hot brew. "You said you knew what Rod liked, but weren't about to accommodate him." 

"I remember saying something like that."

"It wouldn't have anything to do with what I did, would it?"

She stared not saying anything, her eyes seemed decisive, telling me that she'd like to talk about anything else, making me choose words with care.

"Our minds are full of cultural and social beliefs that may or may not have real value," I began. "I wouldn't want to go against, or try to change any preconceived ideas or beliefs."

"Daline," she interrupted, "you don't have to worry about offending me. I have no misconceptions about what we did, and I don't think that makes either of us permanent Lesbians."

A secret smile went between us, even though we were the only ones in the room.

Okay then, she was willing to talk about it, that's good. Just had to steer her in the direction of my choosing.

"I'm happy, because that's what I believe. I was afraid that you might think because I went down on you so quickly . . . and got into playing with specific erotic regions, that you might think differently of our relationship."

"Don't be silly. That's not the first time anyone has touched me down there besides Rod, but I didn't feel it was out-of-place. What happened was exciting and beautiful."

"I'm so glad you don't feel that it was unnatural."

"Shit, Daline, I don't know if it was natural for me to let you do that in the beginning . . . but you brought out emotions and feelings that I didn't know even existed, and I can only thank you for that."

"Then you didn't mind my fingers?

"What? In my ass? Is that what you're trying to say?"

She smiled, and I chuckled. This might be easier than I thought. 

"I wouldn't have put it that coarsely."

"Shit. What other way is there?" She leaned on the table, and I was happy Allen had tightened the legs. "It is what it is."

"Some people would be offended or embarrassed talking about anal intercourse."

"Is that what we're doing, talking anal sex?"

"Well, yesterday did involve the anus."

"Why," Alyssa asked, "do men want to stick their dicks in there?"

"Because it's tight, taboo, and exciting," I said.

"That's kinda what I thought." 

"So, Rod has invited you to participate in anal sex?" 

"Of course . . . "

"Then, you've tried it."

"Oh, hell, no!" Alyssa said. "Too painful to even think about a man's dick in my ass."

"We hadn't done it either," I admitted, "Allen and I, until last night."

"What?"

"Hey, it's not that bad."

"Bull shit. A friend of mine tried it, and she said it was painful as hell, and I trust when she tells me something."

"Not with the right partner it isn't, but trusting that person is paramount." My hands went up in defense. "I'm not saying it's the thing for all couples to do. For years, Allen was only allowed to put his fingers in there when he's eating me out, because I really enjoyed it during oral sex. Never tried a dick because I always thought the sphincter could be stretched so far that something might fall out." 

She laughed, made a face. "That would be embarrassing."

"However, the Internet says that the muscle down there is very elastic, won't lose shape."

Fuck! I don't believe anything the Internet says. I think those articles are made up by men who love to put their fishing poles someplace other than where it was intended."

I giggled. "Fishing pole?"

"Well, you know what some men say?" 

It hit me then. "I don't care, what some idiots say," I said. "You weren't like that."

"I don't want to smell like Perch, and have a bunch of pussies slinking around for something to feast upon."

Alyssa was funny whether she wanted to be or not, and not bashful at saying what she thought. 

"So, what did you really think?"

"About what?"

She was making me work for every answer.

"Come on, you know. What we . . ."

"Okay . . . I didn't mind your fingers in there," she said, but a little concern flashed in those iron-grey eyes. 

I jumped at the chance to explain. "I ask only because if we were to keep working on your little bum, softening it up so to speak, you could really give Rod something different that he would like, and soon."

She took a sip of her coffee, set the cup down and looked up at me with those big eyes.

"How was it for you when Allen . . . stuck his fat dick in there?"

"How do you know he has a fat one?" I giggled. 

"Didn't, but I know you. Don't think you'd marry anyone who didn't. So what was it like?"

Taking a big breath, I thought a moment before answering. This had to be worded just right if I didn't want to scare her away. This might be that something different, that Alyssa could share with Rod. 

"I believe, every couple who's thinking of doing it should talk about it first. Allen and I made an agreement, and went very slowly," I said. "To be honest, I feel a little sore down there today, but nothing I can't handle, and I plan on working it every chance I get."

"Why?"

"Because I like giving pleasure, and I felt something . . . unexplainable."

"That's pretty vague."

"I felt different. Maybe powerful is a good word to use about how I felt, to be able give enjoyment that way."

"Did you cum?"

"It wasn't that kind of pleasure. It was more, an inner satisfaction. Though when Allen came I felt it through my entire body."

Alyssa's eyebrows took an inquisitive direction.

"And something you'd do again?"

"Oh yes, but slowly."

I could see ideas being turned on inside her head one light bulb at a time. "Maybe we could help each other," she said, and that sexy mouth opened just enough that her teeth brightened the small kitchen with sexual power, and I was running sufficient fantasies of my own. Her tongue, pink and alive wet the plump lips, making me a little dizzy wondering what it would feel like on my clit.

My face became hot to the touch, and my pussy ached with each heartbeat.

"When can we start?" she said, and I was over-whelmed.

Her smile became a full set of Las Vegas street lamps.

"How's today."

"As long as we never become fulltime lesbians," she said. "I love men and their cocks too much. No way I'm missing out on something that good."

"Me neither," I said, satisfied.

"I'm ready," Alyssa said, "here or my house?"

"We're here at the moment, but we can switch off."

For a week, we joined each as soon as the boys went to work. At the end of that week, we sat in her living room, just back from the De' Blue sex shop, with several new toys.

"I never heard of a double Wanger, but it looked interesting," she said, holding up something big, purple and u-shaped. "We can do both entrances at once with this." A big belly laugh came from her, "And we could even do each other at the same time." Alyssa straightened the U out.

"Hummm," I said, "How about a butt plug and vibrator at the same time too?"

"I hope not in the same place."

"That would . . . be interesting," I said.

"What say we try the double Wanger first."

"Let me see that." It was soft, but firm to the touch, some sort of bendable silicone. "Okay, who wants dibs?"

"We'll both do it."

"Me first," I said, because I was greedy, and horny beyond-belief. "Where's that lube?"

I was on my back on the couch in no time, opening a new tube. 

"Let me do that."

I watched her put some on a finger. 

"You have such nice hands," I told her, reaching under her kneeing figure to play with her little mouse. 

"Don't get me started," she said, "and that isn't my hands you're touching, and we've agreed to do you first." My finger went in and I did a 'come here' motion with it. She squealed, closed her eyes, and I inserted another finger. She didn't need lube, and I wasn't sure that I did either, but her hands were all over my crotch spreading lube into every crevasse. 

"This is so thick," Alyssa said, "like maple syrup."

"Supposed to be, it's for the ass. Thins out with body heat."

"Ohhh, I didn't know." She tried to wipe it from my pussy.

"Leave it, leave it. Won't hurt anything."

Alyssa bent the purple Wanger back into a U-shape, inserted one rounded end into my vagina with a little wiggling. I bit my lip as it went in, pleasure vibes began to radiate almost immediately. The other end, even with all the work we'd done the past week, resistance was strong, but it went in a couple inches, sending dissimilar sensations through my entire body. The one in my pussy was like slippery velvet, my body wanted to eject the other as a foreign object, and I squeezed the muscle down there keeping it inside. She worked the Wanger like a jackhammer, or at least what I thought a tool of that sort would feel like. 




You Choose



"Slow girl, slow. Let it build."

"Sorry, I'm not used to this thing."

"Just do what you'd like, and I'll enjoy it too," I told her.

I concentrated on what was shooting up from my very active erogenous zones all at once. I'd always been an easy girl to have her sexual fire lit. A few minutes foreplay and I'm ready for round fifteen. Give me the full treatment and I'm willing to do most anything. Some might say that I'm over-sexed. I call it loving the experience. 

"There, you have it just right," I said.

My hips began a Hoola-hoop movement laying down, and that wasn't easy to accomplish. 

I love being naked, especially when someone finds me irresistible to touch, like Alyssa was doing now. Her mouth was full, using teeth, lips and tongue, felt like three different people giving a sexual massage. Her hands weren't empty either, roaming, rubbing, caressing, pinching. She took a nipple between her front teeth, stretching it to maximum until I squirmed with anticipation. Her tongue slid across the tip like extra fine emery cloth, exhorting a deep moan from me. She released it and sucked the other into her mouth. Did I say that I love sex?

I have large aureoles and very sensitive nipples, which Allen loves to suck like a baby. I've felt several times that I could actually climax just by having my nipples sucked. Right now, Alyssa was doing an excellent job of producing the correct amount of vacuum, lip pressure and movement.

At first, I didn't recognize my voice, it was so husky. "I want to taste you." 

"Be my pleasure."

"Mine too," I said, helping until she had a knee on either side of my head. From here I could use my hands on her teats, but before that I threw my arms around her small waist, and pulled my face full into her womanhood. She tasted so good that my tongue zipped inside until it could go no further, my lips munching on the outside, wanting in too. I made my tongue wiggle around as if searching for something, and I was . . . more of her.

Alyssa reciprocated, burying her face in my shaved twat, giving me what I gave her. We both came up for air about the same time, and she began working the Wanger once more, my hips started an uncontrolled undulation. 

"Ohh, you like this?" she asked, but it was more statement than question, and I didn't answer, so wrapped in the feeling. Alyssa opened her legs further and her lovely tasting female parts dropped until were only a centimeter above my face. 

My fingers found the butt plug, and I worked the wedge-shaped head into Alyssa's dripping pussy, getting it well lubed. Then I inserted the very tip into her butt. I had to hurry because her juices wouldn't stay slippery long. She squirmed, pushed back against the pressure.

"Yesss," she said, but I wasn't sure if it was the butt plug she liked or my tongue and lips over her clit. Perhaps it was a little of both.

Deep into our sixty-nine position and having a great time, when . . . 

"Holy Shittt!"

We both jumped. Alyssa leaped to her feet. All I could see was bouncing tits and flashing skin as she left the couch.

"I . I . . ." Alyssa said, her voice cracking, unable to form words.

I followed her startled gaze.

Rod stood open mouthed just inside in the room, his eyes large and unbelieving. I hadn't moved as he stared from Alyssa to my naked body. He'd seen everything so covering up wouldn't make much difference, and I didn't have any covers anyway. The horse was already out of the barn, and running free. I thought he took in my full figure like a man who'd never seen a naked woman before. 

"I would never have thought," Rod said, putting his hands on his hips. Two lesbian's in my house, and one is my wife."

"Were not," I said. "Just friends enjoying each others company."

That didn't come out like I wanted.

"I can definitely see that you're enjoying more than just company."

"I'm sorry baby," Alyssa said, "but we've been working on something for you."

"I don't see how performing oral sex on each other, is for me."

"It wasn't the sex . . . we did get carried away with the moment, but it was something we'd been working on all week."

"And just what in the hell, would that be?"

Alyssa was beyond embarrassment, and talking fast, I thought, to keep Rod from slamming the door and leaving. Then she remembered the plug still in her ass, and turned around and bent over. I made that my time to get up from the couch.

"We've been getting it ready for you," she said.

"What the hell . . . is that in your ass?"

"A butt plug," I said, "Getting her used to it."

"For you, honey," Alyssa said, "for you," 

Like he couldn't believe what he was hearing, or that thing in his wife's ass, Rod reached out, touched the plug, grabbed and pulled.

"Ahhh." Alyssa said, and I recognized pleasure when I heard it. It took a few seconds for her sphincter to fully close, and Rod seemed to forget that I was in the room, so intent upon his wife's bare ass. The front of his pants looked like a log lodged there. 

He tossed the plug to the floor, and pushed the bent over Alyssa toward the couch. Her eyes held something different in them before she fell to her knees. I couldn't tell if it was fear or anticipation. Her head bounced on the cushions, chest flattened against them, ass level, legs touching the front of the couch.

My first thought was to run, except the sexual tension in the room kept me rooted to the floor. 

Rod's pants dropped, made a subdued clunk when the belt buckle hit the carpet. He kicked the pants behind him with his heel, got behind his wife's ass, and struck her hard on one buttock. 

"Yeow!"

An instant red handprint appeared and he hit the other cheek. The soft flesh rocked with the blow. Alyssa whimpered, but did not cry. He hit her again and again, her ass cheeks glowed so red they looked like sun ripened tomatoes. 

Her body shook, those long delicate legs I was between just a few minutes ago looked like they might fold any second. I saw him pull on his dick, getting it ready. It was huge, too large to go into her snatch, let along that tiny ass. He didn't bother with lube, and I prayed that she would still have a little left in there. This was going to hurt, and I couldn't help myself from stepping closer. That spear shaped head seemed to devour her ribbed brown spot, stretching it to oblivion. The glans of that large penis disappeared inside her.

"Shitttt!" Alyssa said. 

I grabbed the lube, squirted a bunch over his huge shaft and at the point where he entered her, but I wasn't about to smear it around.

He glanced at me without saying anything, his eyes fastened to my breasts and I swear I could feel his eyes squeezing them. Then his hips whipped forward.

"Yeowww," Alyssa yelped. "You son-of-a bitch. That hurts." 

"Serves you right, bitch," he said, and slapped her ass once more. 

Her body began to shake again, and I don't know if from fright, pain or pleasure, but she never said another word as he ripped into her, slamming her little body against the couch. Rod's public hairs crushed against Alyssa's soft, flattened ass cheeks with each thrust, his extensive prick disappearing inside all the way. 

"You shouldn't have done this without me," Rod said. "You thankless bitch."

He began a long and quick rocking back and forth, a grunting, rutting animal, his cock battering her. She turned her head then and I saw the unbelieving smile. Her eyes were half closed in ecstasy, rolled up into the whites. She was enjoying this, and her body really trembled now as she pushed back into each of his thrusts. Her mouth opened as a wave of pleasure hit her. When he tired, she continued, forcing him toward climax. Her breathing became very fast and ragged, and I noted mine had matched hers. By far the most fascinating erotic thing I had ever seen. Rod lifted his head toward the ceiling, and I prepared for a wolf like howl, but with one long continued shout of elation, he shot load after load into Alyssa's tight little ass. She squealed with each of his ejaculations.

Alyssa joined him seconds later with her own orgasmic peak, two animals in the mutual heat of extreme desire and ultimate pleasure. Rod fell over his wife's back like a loose sack, while she continued to tremble under him, trapped by his weight. He kissed the back of her neck, her ears, and it seemed he was unwilling to pull out of her.

"Thank you baby," she said. "That was marvelous."

In my nakedness, I stood smelling the sensual reek of total unrelenting sex, and knew I'd been had, my insides shaking, my aching pussy dripping with need. Rod pulled out of his wife's backside, which snapped me to reality, and I grabbed my clothes, threw them on, and darted out the door. 

Allen would be home soon, and I raced across the street feeling like a weasel who's been tricked by its own elaborate planning. Alyssa and Rod had wanted me to be witness to their little charade, and the only reason I could think of . . . to build my sexual desire so high . . . they actually believed being in that state, that I would join in their little foray. Not today, people. They had accomplished one thing though. I was hornier than I remembered ever being.

Soon as the door opened, Allen didn't have time to say, 'Honey I'm home,' when I snatched his brief case, ripped off his shirt and pants. Buttons flew everywhere, rolled across the floor.

"Holy shit, honey, that's a new shirt. What's got you worked up?"

"You," I said, pulling his underpants to his ankles and his dick went in my mouth before it could get hard. He realized that his ass hung out for the world to see, and he kicked the door shut with the heel of his foot, dragging him from me.

"Oh, no you don't," I said. "You're not getting away that easily. When I really start sucking, I'm not going to quit until I have all your sweet juices, and you watch me swallow every drop."

His throat contracted, and not a word came out.

I pulled him to the couch, and sat, never allowing him a second from my clutches. I tasted salt, and a heady pre-cum, loving it as I played with his nipples, taking him more deeply into a hungry mouth. His pubic hairs tickled my nose, and he was getting hard. Remembering what I had seen next door made me suck with reckless abandon. I wanted more of him, and keeping in contact, drew him down with me, placing my head over the rounded arm of the couch, facing up where he could get to my breasts.

Allen took my lead. Now that wonderful cock was level with my mouth and I drew him in until the back of my throat was reached. I needed all of him and tilting my head, pulled him to me. My throat opened all the way and I had him where I needed him, my lips around his cock, touching his lower belly, his balls on my forehead. I couldn't breathe, but held him there until I was red faced and he was beginning to panic. I pulled his hips back and forth showing that I wanted him to fuck my face. Always the gentle Allen, he moved too slow not wanting to hurt me, and I forced him to move faster. I couldn't tell him what Alyssa and I had done, but wanted him without knowing, to punish me for it. Then he was cumming, and I thrust my face further onto him like a fresh caught whale speared by a fleshy harpoon. My tongue rubbed the soft and tender underside of his delicious meat. His final spurt lay on my tongue, and when he pulled out my lips squeezed what was left from that marvelous tip, I showed it to him, and swallowed. "Sorry there wasn't more," I said, "I know you like to see me take all of it, but the rest went down my throat, before I could stop it."

"This is a wonderful surprise, baby."

I took his softening penis in my hand, kissed the shriveling head, licked off some of the surviving juice, and sucked it inside, swishing it around like a piece of soft candy. His heavy balls had settled down from their upward ride of ecstasy, my fingers caressed those delicate creatures, tried to push one into my mouth alongside Jim-dandy. 

"Easy, those are tender," he said.

I released his deflating shaft, sucked on his two friends. 

He took both my nipples in his hands, leaned forward, his tongue flicking my clit.

I reveled in the smell and taste of him on the buds at the back of my tongue, and what little had been caught between my teeth.

"I don't know why you take care of me so well," he said, coming up for air. "What have I done to deserve you?"

"You take care of me in many, many ways," I said, "so please continue. I love you, so why shouldn't I take care of your needs?"

"That I do . . . love you." Moreover, he kissed me passionately. There was nothing that came from this man that made me not want to please him. Maybe I didn't like the taste of his man-spunk, but he didn't need to know that. He went back to work and before I became lost in the sexual patronage, I wondered if he would still love me as much if he knew what Alyssa and I had been doing. I didn't want to find out, and needed to talk to her, find out if Rod would say anything to Allen? 

"That's despicable. You preyed on my good nature, and my sexuality. Why would you do that?"

"Because, my dear," Rod said, "we have very special needs, and you're just the person to help us with them."

"And," Alyssa said, "You are so very good at it."

"I don't want to have anything further to do with you."

"That's quite unfortunate. How will your husband react knowing you and Alyssa have been extremely intimate? What would he do seeing the pictures?"

"What pictures, you son-of-a-bitch?" I shouted, taking a swipe at him. He caught my wrist, stopping the swing just inches from his face. I felt like a broken manikin as he held me in that iron grip.

"I wonder how the owners of the company where Allen works will react when they see them?" Rod said. "Them being devote church goers . .?"

My mind whirled. Allen would be fired that same day, and he worked so hard to get where he was in the company.

"All you have to do is follow instructions," Rod continued. "Do what you're told and everything will be fine. Your husband and his boss will never need to know." 

"That's blackmail."

"Of course." Rod smirked, "but we'll make it as pleasurable for you as possible."

"That sucks," I said.

"For all of us," he said, and laughed. "You could start now, if you want." He cupped his crotch, and Alyssa slapped him on the arm.

"Be nice," she said, and turned to me. "Daline, we've been having delightful sex for a week, let's not change that. Just think how good it will be with three."

"I thought you were my friend."

"I am sweetheart, I really am. It will be a treat for all of us, I guarantee it."

"Yeah, sure."

"Well you think about it tonight, give us an answer in the morning. That should be soon enough." She looked at her husband, and they both nodded.

I shuffled across the street. What had I done? Why had I allowed my stupid horniness to control my actions? I was totally beaten, had to do what they said. If the McDonalds told anyone, Allen would be fired, we'd have to find a new place to live, and he'd probably leave me, and I couldn't blame him. 

Inside, I looked at the clock, almost four. How will I face my husband? What will I say to him. Not going to tell him, that's for sure. That would be stupid, I argued with myself. I'm worse than a common criminal. I didn't see any way out of this. I might be able to steal the pictures, but then they'd tell Allen what I'd done. But, it would be my word against them. Not good, be two against one. Allen would believe me, but first I have to find and destroy the evidence. The only way to do that is to play along, find out where they keep the pictures. What if they have videos? Steal them too.

The following day, after Allen left for work, I called the McDonalds. Alyssa answered.

"Good thinking," she said, when I told her I'd do it. "Come on over, and don't worry about dressing . . . like on that first day." 

"People are going to work."

"So what? They won't know you have nothing on underneath your robe. Consider this your first assignment. Hurry," she said, "I'm waiting."

Crossing to the house I once thought was so pretty, I now loathed everything about it, including the over-white picket fence, and the bumpy cobble stone walkway. Alyssa opened the door when I came up the side of the house to the backdoor.

"Come in sweetie," she said, all syrupy and I wanted to puke. That smooth pixie face needed my fist right in the middle. I envisioned blood spurting from that too-perfect nose, and of blackening her eyes, and that breaking something important would be great fun. 

Inside the house, I didn't want to even look at the Ashley two-piece sofa and love seat we'd been using yesterday, praying it had mysteriously disappeared, like my want to be here.

"Where's your husband?" I said.

"At work, honey . . . don't worry, we'll be alone until after four," she said, all happy and smiley, her fingers went to the front of my robe, and I took a step backward. "Whoa there, sweet cheeks, remember our deal," Alyssa said, and I hated her more for what I had gotten into.

I didn't like it, but I saw no other way, and she pulled me close, her full lips mashing against mine, that pink monstrosity she called a tongue seeking entrance, slipped across the entrance of my clenched mouth, coaxing it open. Her breath, an exotic breeze tearing at my defenses, and they faded one by one. Betrayed by hormones, my hot blood overrode the will to resist. 

"That's it," she whispered, her lips velvety, timid and toying, "Let yourself go, you know you want to." 

She kissed a cheek, breathing into an ear, murmuring of the crudest fornication and filthy sex. Alyssa opened my robe and stepped inside, her arms circling my bare back, hands caressing the back of my neck. Her hot skin under the thin clothing kindled my desire, the bare parts of her enflamed an already glowing sexual thirst. She knew all the correct places to stroke, because she'd found them so many times before. I gasped without meaning, and when my mouth opened she pounced, her lips glued to mine, tongue touching tongue, devouring everything that lecherous mouth examined including any resolve I had left, and I kissed back with an obedient and wanton desire. 

"Can't wait to get between those tanned legs," she whispered between kisses, her hands running up my thigh, and though the very thought of what was happening made me cringe; I anticipated her lust for me with great and uncomfortable zeal. 

Alyssa brushed the bareness at the junction to my legs. An involuntary shiver ran through me, knowing it was more craving for the actual sex, than for her, but I couldn't convince myself that it was absolute loathing I felt. Some feeling for her still existed . . . just couldn't put it into words or exact feelings.

A box of contradictions is what I am. My brain told me to hate her, my emotions knew different, and my body looked forward to every single physical contact. One out of three wasn't good.

"Rod," she said, her voice rough and heady, "you can come in."

"He's here?"

"Of course."

I recoiled. Alyssa held me in place as I struggled under her weight. 

"Let me up, I have to go."

"Not yet, honey," she said, her nose touching mine. "It's only two, and relax, you'll be home in plenty of time."

My mind reeled, but Rod's home. Oh, he likes to watch. Now that was news. Hopefulness and fear intermingled. Two hours was not much time. We had to be done by then for Allen could never know.

Alyssa's entire face was a mask of smirking delight, and I hated her at that moment.

Well, Rod certainly got an eyeful. I don't think we forgot to do anything.

"I want you, now," Rod said from the end of the couch.

Alyssa got up, gave one nipple a quick pinch with her fingers making me winch, the other she gave a wet, sucking kiss as counterbalance.




You Choose



I was prepared to give Rod what he wanted, but not without some misgivings. I'd seen just how large a penis he had yesterday, and that pounded my mind like a maniac with a baseball bat, but Rod didn't want me. 

How is that possible? Unbelieving thoughts banged through my head. I had bigger boobs than Alyssa, loved oral sex, and was really good at it . . . What the hell is wrong with him? Shit, what's wrong with me? This is as close to screwing another man since Allen and I first met . . . if Rod doesn't want me, don't force it you sex-starved shithead. I'm guilty enough as is. 

Rod had stripped, the last bit of clothing a pair of red underwear. What man wears crimson underwear? Even as I chided myself, my appetite for bodily pleasures leaped to the forefront. I was shaking inside, needed to see the workings of that huge tool again, and wondered what it would feel like going in. I swear my pussy jumped just thinking about that massive tool kneading my inner workings.

Alyssa massaged Rod through that blood-red cloth, a small, wet circle formed in front, and I wanted to yell at her to hurry, bring the damned thing out, I need to see. Shit, but she was slow pulling down that waistband. Just the pink gorged head stuck out. Alyssa's rough tongue dabbed at it, swiped across the head several times, and my knees were immediately weak remembering what that flexible instrument had done to me on so many occasions. Then she pulled Rod's shorts down until it was under his smallish sack of essentials.

Rod's manhood stood full, bending from gravity, bigger than my wrist. Is the elastic of his underwear the only thing keeping everything from crashing down? Alyssa eyed it, squeezing and tugging on that shaft until another small drop of clear fluid oozed to the surface. I was envious when her lips touched that massive pink head, and she sucked the love liquid onto her tongue. 

"Want some?" she said, pulling Rod's cock-head in my direction.

The conniving bitch knew the effect pre-ejaculate had on me, and my knees hit the carpet a second later next to her. I grabbed him away from her, pulled that heart-shaped head into my mouth, filling my oral cavity. Side by side we attended to Rod's needs until he squirted our faces with white hot cum.

It took him no time at all to dump his load, and he sank to the couch, gasping. 

Alyssa was smiling when she turned to me, and said, "Ohh, you have some right there." 

Her lips opened and kissed the whitish glob from my chin, her tongue ran a wet line down my neck, scooping up what ended there also. 

"Alyssa has some on her cheek," Rod pointed out. "You might want to get that," and being the obedient slave my tongue slurped it off. 

I didn't want to, but couldn't help but savor the taste of maleness that now was driving me crazy with need. 

Leveling out from a sensuous high, sex still on my brain, I had to get out of there before I did something even more perverted.

"I need to use the bathroom," I said, "and need to go . . . Allen will be home soon."

"Go on," Alyssa said, "You know where the loo is. We'll be right here finishing up. If you want, tell your husband that he can join us later."

I shot her an angry look, but she was already between Rod's legs doing something with his friends.

Upstairs, I looked for a hiding place where they might have the incriminating photos. I figured that she would be busy for the next fifteen or twenty minutes getting Rod ready for the next event. 

There were two small bedrooms and a half-bath upstairs, and I searched each, finding nothing, but didn't think the McDonalds would hide explicit photos in the children's rooms, or the bathroom, but I had to eliminate them. Slipping downstairs, saw Alyssa still at it, and I watched a few seconds, more brazen than days ago, and hitching up my robe headed out the front door. I would have to search downstairs another day. 

I didn't sleep well, looked worse than abysmal the following morning. Putting makeup over baggy under-eyes took twice as long, and didn't cover; Allen who never noticed such things had commented about how tired I looked. 

Those damn pictures . . . trying to think of where I would hide them if I were that devious was all I thought about. I'd even put off Allen last night, and he was so gracious, which made me feel even worse. So much that I capitulated. Even sex did nothing for an insomniac, guilt-persecuted mind. Just before the alarm went off, I hit on a flimsy scheme. As close as I had been to Alyssa, I needed to be closer, even though now my stomach flip-flopped just thinking about it. I had to be more than just good, I had to be one hell of an actress. The more I was over there, the greater opportunities to search. 

The clambering of the home cell demanded attention. At first, I couldn't find it, hoping beyond hope . . . shit, it was her. Not again. 

"I need you," Alyssa said, her voice soft and wanting. A little tremor went through me at the obvious implications of sex in her tone, but I held myself in check. Would Rod be there again? 

"Give me a few minutes."

"Hurry, every chance you get." She giggled.

This woman needed sex more than anyone I'd ever encountered, and people thought I was over-sexed. Didn't she ever wear out? I was beginning to think she was a nymphomaniac as well as blackmailer. A female prison would be an excellent place for her. Get all she wanted and more, and out of my hair . . . hair-less pussy. I laughed, the first time in days and liked it. 

In the time it took to walk across the street, I'd played every scenario that could possibility happen over in my brain, as well as working out what I would do in each case. There wasn't many, but one thing was sure, I had to play along with everything the McDonalds suggested. So far it's been easy.

Alyssa called for me to come in before I could knock. The screen door squeaked when opened, and I pictured Allen oiling it when he got home. Whoa now. Come to the present, girl. Then I was walking through the kitchen into the living room.

"In here," Alyssa called, and I followed the sound of that sultry voice, searching the shadows for a glimpse of Rod hiding there. The door to the den was open and she sat on the loveseat, a see-through negligee wrapped about her trim body. Excitement was written in the set of the shapely shoulders, the tilt of the head, and her constant fidgeting. 

My breath caught when she shifted to a better position, her breasts jiggling with sexual readiness and in definite need for my mouth. Why this particular woman's tits caused such a reaction in me, I do not know. As I've said before, I like men and love my husband, but was beginning to think like a closet lesbian.

Alyssa beckoned, and I followed like a hand-puppet, ending in front of her. She didn't look all that good either. Her eyes were red-rimmed and I could see veins running around those ivory edges. And yes, there were bags there too. My eyes swept over the peaks and valleys, down that flatland stomach to between her legs. She saw my look, opening them at once, and flipping the ethereal fabric out of the way pulled me between those smooth shaved limbs.

I knew what she wanted, lifted one leg, kissed her toes, the bottoms of her foot, ran my lips across her calf, lingered a while, then up the thigh, rubbing it with my face and wrapping my hair around it. Glancing up to see her countenance plastered with pleasure or pain, I could not tell, but hoped for pain which inspired me further.

After she'd been satisfied with several orgasms, her eyes closed and her breathing deepened. She curled up almost instantly asleep. I figured she would be out at least an hour, and I covered her with the ever-present afghan. 

Searching their bedroom, and keeping an ear open for any noise of her waking, I looked under folded clothes, in a jewelry box. I left everything as I'd seen it, even felt under the bottom of all the drawers.

I'd never been in the basement, and glanced back at the sleeping Alyssa when the door made a sour note of defiance. She hadn't moved so I found the light switch and took the steps one at a time, feeling my way. 

Everything was normal, except that half the downstairs was closed off making another room, and the door had a heavy steel padlock cinching it tight. I didn't see a key hanging anywhere. I'll bet this is where they keep the photos, otherwise, why the lock? Had to be something in there the McDonalds didn't want anyone seeing.

Upstairs, I searched the main bathroom, even in the back of the toilet, as all the TV shows were showing where people hid things they didn't want found, but I didn't find anything. Frustrating to the point that I wondered if there really were any pictures. Of course, Rod could have them at work, and in that case, I was doomed. Someone's moving. Was Rod home? Footfalls too light. Alyssa's awake, coming to the bathroom. Another creak from a floor joist, she's closer. 

I could not get caught going through her things.

Shut the door, no not completely, the latch will make a noise. I glanced around, no place to hide. The door opened.

"Yeek! Shit . . . you startled me," Alyssa said, one hand resting on her throat. "I thought you'd gone home."

"In a minute," I said, flushing the toilet.

She walked in, left the door open and primped at the mirror as if I weren't in the room.

"See you tomorrow."

I didn't acknowledge, but saw her smile in the mirror, her eyes caught mine for a flash of a second, and then I was out the door. In that moment, I should have noticed the regrettable hopelessness in that fairy like face. I was increasingly pissed at having allowed her to get me into this mess. 

In the living room I came head to head with Rod McDonald.

"Whaa . . ."

His hand went over my mouth, and he whispered, "In here." Once in the laundry room off the kitchen, he shut the connecting door, and plopped his ass on the dryer.

"I want you to do something for me," he said.

I looked at the closed door. "What?"

"I like you," Rod said, "and I'm in need." 

"What?"

"Look, Alyssa has been a bitch the past few days, and I need you to do me."

"You're crazy."

His eyes took in the area in front of his crotch.

"What do you say?"

"I say no, that's what."

His hands caught me behind the head and pulled me close until his eyes were looking into mine at very close range. "Remember the photos . . ."

"Alyssa's next door, in the bathroom."

"She'll not know, if you're quiet now hurry. Unzip my pants."

He slid off the dryer, and I undid his zipper thinking of those awful pictures, my hands at the belt buckle.

"No, just the zipper, now pull it out."

I did as he commanded, my heart pounding, excitement ramming back and forth in my brain. My hands shook. This was a first time alone with the monster. I reached inside the entrance to his underwear, but it wasn't cooperating. My heart skipped a beat when my fingers wrapped around the thickness of him. Curled snake like, and it took a while to get the head out.

"Your hands feel so good," he whispered into my ear, the pink knob of him swelling within my grasp.

My legs were water pouring onto the ground through the gutter of my thoughts, and at that moment nothing mattered but feeling that maleness grow hard in the warm cavern of my mouth. I imagined making it grow until it was difficult to breathe, I murmured something unintelligent, but then he was sliding inside and my groan of pleasure vibrated all the way up his hardening cock to his own pleasure center.

His low moaning and the undulation's of his hips sent a thrill through my entire body and I dropped to my knees in front of him. Running my tongue over the slick surface of his saliva covered rod, delight tickled the laugh center of my brain. I was delirious with exhilaration and dizzy with lust. More than anything at this moment, I wanted to suck every ounce of spunk from this huge beautiful organ, my fingers played with Rod's two storage tanks. I was such a two-timing slut. 

To say that I am enraptured with a mans penis, is to say too little. Sometimes I believe that I should have been a man, but then because of my love of the male sex organ, I'd have to be a homosexual. I also found that being with a good woman as exhilarating and as satisfying in many ways. So what the hell was I? 

Right now, personal gratification was at its highest point. I had a man's penis captured between my lips, and sucking with great abandonment. It pleased me that Rod was gasping and groaning, and I wanted nothing more than for him to empty that full sack.  

My need to bring bliss to this lovely cock over-shadowed everything. There wasn't even a man connected to it any longer. Just a large, hard sex organ slipping in and out of fully stretched lips, my head bobbing with determination, one fist wrapped tightly around the girth, holding it with adoring attention. I was a queen in front of the king of dicks. There was only this lovely instrument that in any second was going to give me a huge tasty delight. 

Immeasurable joy rammed through me. I alone was milking the beast. His balls lifted upward, that great groan of the sex-enraged male of the species, and that sudden expected rapture of the first outpouring. The shot hit the back of my throat like a thick, water soaked rag. I swallowed before the second burst, and kept gulping. Rod was more than generous, jerking with spastic discharges that nearly doubled him over. I was overjoyed because I alone made him cum in less time than Alyssa had ever done in my presence, and in that knowledge was power. He grabbed my head, covering my ears, and I thought that he might ram his prick deep into my throat. Both hands gripped that hard member to keep that from happening. The final gob seeped onto my tongue where I could taste the thick saltiness. I let the tiny warm mass sit there, spicy, contemplating why I never liked the taste of man-stuff. Rod's really wasn't that bad. Not that I would go out of my way to feed on the stuff.

I licked him clean, let the heavy shrinking cock drop.

"Have a good day," I said, and leaving him to zip up, headed out.

"Already have," he muttered, and I left the house by the back door.

On the short walk home, I was increasingly satisfied with myself. I had met two large obstacles head-on, and conquered both; didn't find the incriminating photos, however there is that locked room in the basement. The McDonald's didn't want anyone inside that room, especially their children. What's so secret that they must keep locked and hidden away? One thing might be evidence of two naked women enjoying themselves. Those had to be destroyed, and there must be copies, eliminate them as well. 

The digital era, I hated it; with the single press of a button the world knew everything. Now that might be all right for some things, but not information that could damage an innocent person's life. 

Innocent? Shit, I was so far from that . . . might as well be in hell right now.

I didn't care for myself, but Allen would be devastated by my stupidity and infidelity. I'd become Alyssa and Rod's little whore. Giving sexual favors originally to help her . . . and myself to forbidden sexual delights. Now, I was giving sexual favors, just to keep myself from punishment. 

My hand brushed at sudden tears. 

Just a short time ago, freedom existed to do most anything, but I'd squandered that privilege. Given it so freely and unthinkingly. Me . . . Daline Blanchard who in ten years was always fateful, had become collateral damage for the McDonald's cruel amusement.

At my front door, I glanced over my shoulder before going inside, my mind reeling with possibilities. We had a computer, so I went there. Icon's graced the screen in a few seconds; at least I knew what one was used for, and using the mouse clicked on the Internet. I'd been here many times before, so I typed in computers in the box provided at the top. 

A vast amount of information made itself known. I typed something more specific. Luckily, the accompanying pictures were more helpful than the long technical paragraphs. The one that frightened most was a small gadget like the one I saw on Rod McDonald's keychain. 

I didn't know Bytes from Megs, hard drives from flash . . . a throaty laugh erupted from somewhere deep inside. I did know when a man flashed me and when he was driving hard into his favorite device, me. Hopelessness raced alongside the abrupt brooding hilarity, and the undeniably of my dilemma was fast pulling ahead. 

A week passed, and still no photographs. I did manage to find out about that damned thing Rod had on his key chain, and that I was going to have to steal, the padlock keys were also on the same ring. I began to make plans.

I couldn't steal the key or the drive, because he would know, but I might be able to switch that little piece of plastic with one of my own. All I had to do was purchase one of the same brand and size and wait for my chance. The key was something else again. Impression putty was one example, so said the Internet. But there was another, easier way. 

Just after noon, the tramp called, and look who's calling names? This time, I didn't even bother to chastise myself.

"Where are you?"

"In the kitchen," I said.

"You should be here."

"Just waiting for your call." I smirked at the phone, dumb bitch.

"Get your ass over here."

"Right there, my Sweet(fucking)Pea."

I pocketed the mini-camera I'd purchased just for this moment.

Alyssa demanded much, not only enjoying what I did, but also what she did to me. Giving and receiving was a toss up for her, as she savored every moment, from start to finish. Because of her attitude toward sex, she was a struggle to understand. At times insisting that I do things exactly her way, then asking what I'd like her to do. 

Rod was easy. He was all take, definitely a user, at least from my prospective. He demanded everything. Perhaps just because he had control, particularly liking mouth to genital stimulation, me of course doing all the arousing. He called it his oral exam. Maybe it was just my particular technique he enjoyed. Allen certainly did. I squashed that image, he had no place in my mind right now, his frowning image was worse than a Lion gnawing at a fresh Antelope haunch. 

When I arrived, the McDonald's were both in the living room.

"About time," she said. "What took you so long?"

I choose not to answer. "Are the children home?"

Alyssa made a face. "Of course not."

Rod spoke up then. "We have something to show you," and he went to the basement door. "You'll like this," he said over his shoulder.

I followed, Alyssa bringing up that fabulous rear end. I stumbled on the stairs, bumped into Rod, and another idea of how to get rid of him came to mind. 

"Watch where you're stepping," he said. "These stairs are steep."

"Thanks. Now you tell me." 

His laugh overshadowed the jingle as he took out his keys. The lock snapped open with a solid healthy sound, like a well-oiled gun being cocked. Watching into what pocket he dropped the keys, my big wish at that moment was that I knew how to 'pick' a pocket. The door swung outward, he reached inside and light swamped the room. 

I must have gasped. 

"Like what you see? This is where the real fun is."

"Fuck?"

"Exactly," he said, and stepping aside, allowed Alyssa to usher me into the room. 

One side had a miniature worktable with small hand tools in convenient slots and holders. The rest of the room held a bevy of sexual toys and places to have sex in sundry positions. There was a set of stocks, handcuffs, pieces of soft rope, a bed, and even a small mattress on the floor. I was so wrong to believe that I was ever, more sexually experienced than Alyssa. And what the hell is that? 

A padded table with a dildo attached to a motorized metal arm was positioned in the middle of the room. Next to it, about thigh high, a futuristic looking English saddle sat with a center-piece resembling an over-sized cock.




You Choose



Next to the far wall, a swing hung on chains from the ceiling. Leather and rubber things lay about that I could not name.

"You should try this," Alyssa said.

I turned to face her. One hand rubbed the saddle, her fingers toying with the base of the fake cock, her eyes on mine as she wiggled it. The flesh-colored implement waved at me like the real thing.

A heated shiver went through me. "No thanks. I prefer the real thing."

"But when it's not available, this is the next best thing," Alyssa said. Her voice so soft and understated the intonation.

"I'll take your word." 

Dumb bitch, to think I would ever use such a thing, after her pussy clutched that damn thing.

"I'll try some of the real thing myself," she said. "You can look around, join us later." I made a face, but she didn't see.

Alyssa took Rod's pants off in a hurry, and went to work. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" Rod said, his voice rising.

Shit, caught. His face looked accusing.

"Folding your pants so they don't become wrinkled," I said, allowing his key chain to drift into my hand unnoticed. 

"Just, put them down and leave them be," Rod said.

"Okay, okay, just trying to help, no need to get frantic about it."

I placed the folded pants where I could get to them again. Glancing over at the McDonald's, they were in a place all their own. Turning my back and pretending to be interested in the mechanized dildo, I took a picture of the key to the sex room making sure at least one fingernail was in the picture. Measuring the size of my fingernail would give me a scale to gauge the exact size of the key. The flash drive didn't want to behave, and a nail broke trying to spread the ring-clip to remove the drive.

"Fuck," I whispered, but Rod heard.

"What's going on over there now?"

"Nothing, just broke a nail on this thing." 

I grimaced. Cheap false nails almost caught me. Tried again. This time the drive came off and the new one slipped on in its place.

I swung back to the two naked partners who continued to satisfy each other. My hand slipped under Rod's folded pants, where I abandoned the key chain. 

"Get those clothes off, and get over here," Alyssa said, and I did as directed. Heaven help me . . . tried not to enjoy myself, but the impossibility of that made me feel even worse. Don't know how many climaxes that afternoon, but my body was bathed in sweat by the time I dressed. The clothes sticking to my skin made it difficult, and the walk home wasn't long enough to dry everything.

I opened the door, stepped inside and heard Allen drive up. I waited for him to get from the car. He smiled coming up the walk, and it was difficult smiling back, but managed a weak welcoming grin. I was pleased that all the ingredients for stew had been put into a crock-pot that morning. 

"You're glowing," he said, after hugging me. 

"Yeah, sorry about that," I lied, "Just ran across the street from Alyssa's. I'll take a quick shower."

Right after, the school bus dropped off the McDonald children, and knew I was lucky twice in one day. 

After dinner, I asked Allen to show me how to use the scanner/printer, which he willingly did. 

"What are you going to be using it for?"

It was a casual question, but stopped me.

"Naked pictures," I said, giving him my biggest smile.

He laughed, but I could tell he didn't believe a word.

"Okay then."

To silence any other questions I said, "What would you like tonight?"

His eyebrows went up. He doesn't read between the lines well. I hoped what was in my mind he was thinking too. 

"You talking desert?"

"Maybe," I said, and ran from the room, heard the computer chair slide across the floor and his footfalls coming in a rush. He caught me at the bedroom door, swept me up and deposited me on the bed, none too gentle for I bounced. The dress went over my head, and not wearing anything underneath I was ready, watching as he undressed in a rush. I marveled at the hardened muscles, that man-ass, even the calves of his legs were sexy. When he stood at the foot of the bed, I rolled to my stomach.

"Ummmm," he said, in Allen's characteristic growl, and knew I was in for the best of the day. 

Later that night, I looked at the contents of the Flash Drive, and there they were. I compared them, recalling each position. Ohh, don't remember . . . how in the hell did we manage that? We resembled an upside down Octopus. Erasing the pictures with some regret, because they were erotically beautiful, the key was next on my bucket list.

Importing the picture I brought the key into a picture program, and made it as to scale as was possible and printed it. It took several times to get correct. In the final picture, all the edges were clear, and I cut the image a little over-sized using a pair of small scissors. 

In the garbage, I found an empty metal soup container, happy that I'm one of those people who rinse all the recycling. A pair of tin-snips was used to cut the can into two simple rectangle's of metal. Then, the paper cutout was place over the metal and I drew around the edges with a pencil. Next was to cut the drawing out. Then super gluing two strips of the metal together to produce a double-layered unit. I hoped the Internet article on making quick keys was correct. Using Allen's small model files I shaped and trimmed. It took several hours before the key even looked like something that might work. 

Finally it was complete. Looked like a key. Just hoped it was going to act like one tomorrow. I had only the afternoon while Alyssa and her husband attended their boy's first football practice to search that basement for hard copies.

The McDonald's car slipped from of the garage, the electric garage door whined down, and that black vehicle made a near silent retreat from the house. Several long minutes of waiting passed, just in case they'd forgotten something and had to return. When they didn't, sneaking across the street was easy. 

Alyssa never locked her back door, foolish girl. Everything was as remembered from this morning, and hurrying downstairs, the lock hung from the hasp in brilliant defiance as if challenging anyone's key-making skills. Turning it in my hand, the makeshift key went into the slot with little pushing. The key started to bend right away, not turning a single tumbler. Pulling it back out, I studied the teeth. The small file made slight work of taking off more metal from the offending tooth. Into the slot once more it went. No go. Back out. File some more. This time wiggling the key as I turned, the lock popped open with a horrendous thick snap. I froze. That was stupid, no one is around to hear.

Stepping into the room, I switched the light on. My heart gave a tiny jump seeing all the sex-toys as if set for some grand erotic adventure. They watched with, I thought, a certain mute sadness as I searched, rather than using them for what they were intended, or perhaps they considered me an intruder. 

I searched everywhere, and didn't find any photos, so the only ones in existence had to be the ones that were deleted. I'd also been looking for cameras that might be set up, but nothing down here. Which was interesting. Looked at my watch, not yet halftime, another hour free and clear. I walked the room, the carpeting soft underfoot, fascinated with everything now that I was by myself. The machine that made my fantasy bark, was the Sybian. Three axis control, speed, rate of vibration, and circular movement. I threw one leg over.

Ohh, soft and flexible, and if it were warmed, would feel almost real. It went in easily as I sat on the faux-prick. I turned it on. Nothing happened, disappointment filled my brain, then memory of the speed control hit me. 

I jumped . . . whoa, now that was interesting, and once used to the motion, my fingers turned other controls. My body sprang to life as this thing found happy places I didn't even know I had places to make happy. My legs twitched, vibration ran the length of my spine, my pussy went crazy. Spittle ran down my chin, and I wiped it off with the back of my hand. Seconds later an orgasm hit so fast I wasn't ready for it, but the second one built until I was gasping for breath, then another. I fell forward, dropped the control box; sensations ran through my body faster than a Hummingbird searching for food. My G-spot exploded, and I couldn't reach the controls. The machine was at maximum, doing things inside I couldn't control, and another climax struck. If this continued, I'd be a blubbering idiot soon. I'd never had this many orgasms. Three had always been a high point, and I was already building to six. I had to get off, but my pleasure center would not allow it. One part of my brain fought another; I'm going crazy, and this fucking machine's going to rip me apart. 

"Ohh, damn, damn . . . this is so good." 

Get off, you stupid bitch, my common sense self yelled.

"Who the hell is doing all that fucking moaning?" 

You, you idiot, now get off the machine before it kills you. 

"Nothing that feels this good can possibility be bad," I said.

One leg lifted as if by itself, and the false-penis slipped out.

"Damn it, I'm not finished."

Then I was on the floor, dress gathered around my thighs, and I had the control box in-hand, turning the machine off.

Whew, but this thing was wonderful torture. Never felt anything that intense. Going to have to get one of these things.

Closing the door and making sure the lock clicked, I turned to leave before the McDonalds arrived. My knees were water and I had feet that didn't want to leave, as if stuck in mud. I tingled down there like something was still taking place. Was I going to have trouble motivating the stairs? My head rose to survey them. What?

Who's there?

The longhaired figure on the stairs didn't move. Back-lit by light from the kitchen, I couldn't tell who watched. A thousand pictures flashed through my mind. 

The dark, graven image hadn't budged, face in shadow like some female Frederica Kruger. Something she held glinted. A knife? Before I could say anything the image pivoted up the stairs. Recognition.

"Cynthia wait. . ." was all I could manage before the door slammed shut, leaving me with a sinking heart, and guilt open to the world. 

How much had the McDonald's daughter seen? A lot evidently, from her quick departure.

The ten steps to ground level took forever, felt as if I'd been running miles, and almost wished that the door was locked, but it opened without a sound. I picked up something that wasn't on the floor when I'd went down.

Glancing around, I didn't see Cynthia anywhere . . . probably in her room. She shouldn't have been home. Why hadn't she gone with her parents? Damn, damn. 

What could I say to her? "Hey, I just stopped by to use your mother's toys, and what were you doing home, young lady?"

Oh yeah, talk about a difficult rock and foolish hard place.

Once more, the walk home took less time than it took to think about it. 

What was I going to do now? Each idea came back twice twisted. I'd didn't find any photos. I could handle a teenage girl, but with pictures? Allen would never believe my word against evidence he could see. Hell, I wouldn't either, nor would his boss. I was right back where I started, however, if the McDonald's had more photos they would have to show me. 

The following morning, when I went out to see Allen off for work, Rod McDonald's big car zipped passed the drive. All I wanted to do was give him the finger. With him leaving, his sex-starved wife would phone any second.

Right on-call.

"Your cell's ringing," Allen said. "Aren't you going to answer it?"

"It's just Alyssa."

During our kiss goodbye, anger, fear and guilt zipped to the forefront, and I almost blurted out everything. Instead, I answered the phone as Allen drove away.

"What is it?"

"Can you come over?" she said. 

There was something in her voice. Some little inflection I couldn't figure out, something wasn't correct. 

"In a bit," I said, testing her. "I've clothes in the washer."

"Please, Cynthia's home too." 

Oh, ohh. Normally, she demanded that I come right then, and she made it a point that her daughter was there. Did Alyssa know I had broken in yesterday, that her daughter had seen me? I went thinking the worst.

Alyssa sat at the kitchen table.

"Look, I'm sorry . . ." I began to explain being in her house without permission, but her voice overrode mine. 

'Thank you, for coming so quickly."

This wasn't like her.

"What's wrong?"

"This," she said, looking around. 

I gasped.

"Rod did that?"

"I was in a particular mood last night, but didn't want to be dominated this much."

"Looks like he took your invitation a little too far." She jumped when I touched the huge black and blue spot.

"Way too far."

We both jumped at the voice.

"Cynthia. I'm so sorry you shouldn't hear this. Please go to your room."

"I will not . . . you need help. The asshole."

"Cynthia," Alyssa said, and turned to me. "She saw this morning when I was dressing. I didn't know what or how much to tell her, so I kept her home from school."

"Sorry," I said. "We have to call the police."

"Oh, no, no. We can't do that."

"You certainly can't continue like this."

"It wasn't his fault entirely. I instigated it. I just need to have you put something on it."

"You might have a broken rib or two. You need x-rays."

"Hospital's out of the question . . . can't you just wrap it, or something?"

I shook my head, and looking into those beautiful, pain-filled eyes, I wanted to kill the simple bastard.

"Has this happened before?"

"Never, and I know he didn't mean it."

Shit, he didn't. Too much in one spot, like he plummeted her over and over, and what the hell did he use? 

Alyssa's arms slid across the table. A groan emitted from those beautiful lips, and her head sank to her arms. Her shoulders shook with a sadness I'd never seen before. I would not have thought Rod could do such a thing, but then one doesn't know . . .

"You can't stay here," I said.

"Yes, I can . . . it's only loosing the pictures that made him angry."

"The ones of you and I," she whispered.

"He blamed me for them disappearing."

"So, you don't have them?"

A sick grin came to those generous lips. "Serves him right for not backing them up."

My heart all of a sudden became a lot lighter. Sometimes it's better to be lucky than good. Alyssa's problem wasn't mine, still I felt for her. And . . . crap, that's what got me into problems in the first place, thinking I could help her with that first supposed difficulty.

"You have to help me."

"No, I don't," I said at once.

She looked at me with such pleading eyes, and how could I refuse? I'd always been a sucker for people in trouble. 

"Oh, all right," I said, "Get your clothes off."

She looked at me like I was crazy, like I'd forgotten Cynthia was in the room. "I have to get to the damage spots, don't I?"

"Cynthia, put some ice cubes in a zip-lock bag, and do you have any anti-inflammatory over-the-counter drugs. Get some of those too. That will help with the pain. No, wait I'll get those, you just take care of the ice." 

I was back at the sink in a few minutes, filling a glass with water. I gave her two pills.

"Take both of these, it'll get into your system quicker. Now, Cynthia, gently hold the bag of ice to the bruise. Twenty minutes on and twenty off. Your mother should feel better by afternoon."

Alyssa grabbed my hand, held it tight, her eyes slammed shut when Cynthia applied ice to the bruise.

"Thank you, so much," she whispered, "I owe you."

"Yes, you do," I said, nodding my head in agreement.

As I left the house to attend to my own chores, Cynthia caught up with me on the sidewalk.

"Mrs. Blanchard, may I talk with you?"

Turning to face her, I wondered if she was going to bring up yesterday's visit. I noticed for the first time how much she looked like her mother. Same color eyes, round face, small nose, and blossoming already into a nice little shape, but her face seemed older than I remembered.

"Yes?"

"I just want to thank you for helping mother . . . and to tell you that I never said anything, and won't."

"Then we're even," I said, "and thank you for that."

"I should get back, help mother . . ." 

She then spun on her heels and ran up the steps. 

"Cynthia, wait," and I crossed to the steps. "You dropped this yesterday," I said, and put the key I'd picked up on the steps, into her hand.

"Oh." That sexy young mouth formed a tiny circle, I thought in surprise, but a quick grin flashed across the full lips. "Thank you," she whispered. Her eyes meeting mine danced with a shared secret. Some man, I thought, was going to be very happy one day. 

I waited until the door closed behind her before I headed home.

My secrets were hidden forever. I laughed, fairly skipping across the drive, and if anyone could see and hear, probably thought there goes that crazy Blanchard woman again. 

The three of us were now conspirators of a different sort, and Cynthia realized that I would never reveal her very special secret. A hot-blooded teenager, time alone, and a basement full of choices. What would I have done?

The End