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Hookey

By: Morgaine LeFay



I listened as my dad's car pulled out of the driveway and waited an additional ten minutes to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. When I didn't hear him returning, I peeked around the side of the shed and smirked. Mom had left yesterday for a conference in Colorado, and even though I didn't have any serious classes on Fridays, my father had said I still had to go to school. It was my senior year and, now that I was eighteen, I could write my own excuse notes. All I had to do this morning was to wait until my dad left for work.

Using my key, I slipped back into the house and giggled as I ran up the stairs to my room. Tossing my bag on my bed, I slipped off my tie and uniform before stretching. My dad should be at work for at least the next eight hours so I could do anything I wanted. Slipping off my shoes, I walked out of my room wearing only my black boy-short underwear and matching scallop style bra. My 42DD's bounced slightly as I walked down the hall.

I didn't have any plans for the day and decided to look at porn while no one was home. I'd been having sex for the last two years and I was finding that I was really good at getting exactly what I wanted from the guys I'd been with. Not finding anything I hadn't already seen online, I wondered what toys my parents had.

Walking back upstairs, I went into my parent's bedroom. I figured that if either of my parents had anything, it would be my mom. Opening her dresser, I moved things around but didn't come up with anything other than some sexy underwear. I put my hands on my hips and looked around the room, wondering where else they would hide sex toys and partially thinking that maybe they didn't have any. My eyes fell on my dad's dresser and I hesitated a minute. There was something wrong about doing this, but something exciting at the same time.

I could see why my mom had fallen in love with my dad. Even a bunch of my girlfriends had mentioned that they thought my dad was hot and I guess I would have to agree with them. He kept his hair cut in the military style he'd had in the Marine's and he had muscles that I could feel every time he hugged me good night. Biting my lower lip a little, I walked over to his dresser and opened the middle drawer. There was nothing in that one or the one above it. The top drawer looked to just be his boxers and socks until I moved things around a little. That's when I found his dirty magazines. My eyes widened a little at how many he had and how different the women on the front were from how my mom looked.

Mom is a 32B and has long dark hair. The girls on the covers of these magazines looked more like.... well... like me. They were well endowed and had short red hair. I paged through the top one before dropping it on my parent's bed. Was this what my dad fantasized about? It almost seemed like he was thinking about me when he masturbated. I could feel a tingling starting between my legs and I sat down. Would that even be possible? And why was it getting me aroused when everything I knew said it should be grossing me out? Thinking back, I realized that my dad had been watching me more and more lately, especially when I was laying out in the back yard over the summer. Without meaning to, I started to wonder what his penis looked like, how it would feel in my hand and inside me.

Closing the drawer, I took a few magazines into the living room and slid the laptop onto the floor. The covers were pretty tame compared to the pictures and stories inside the magazines. Women in skimpy clothes, their hands tied together, some on their knees looking over their shoulder at the camera and even one with a girl gagged with a red ball. I thought about my dad looking at these pictures and touching himself and could feel myself getting wet. My hand slipped into my underwear while I thought about my dad naked on his bed, looking through the magazines and stroking his cock.

Halfway through the third magazine, I stopped and sat up straight. My mouth opened in shock as I looked at the picture. The girl had a catholic school skirt on that looked like my uniform, a black lace bra that barely covered breasts which looked slightly larger than mine and her school tie was undone but around her neck. What really stopped me though was that her face had been covered by a cut-out of my face from my last school picture. In looking at the picture quickly, I thought it was me in the magazine. That confirmed it for me. My dad HAD been thinking about me when he looked at these magazines. I masturbated thinking about my dad imagining that these girls were me and I wondered just how far he had let his fantasies go.

As I came, I decided to see just how far my dad would go. I knew that I could make men do anything I wanted with my body and how talented my lips were. I wondered if I could seduce my own father. Smirking to myself, I got something to eat and planned out exactly how the rest of the day was going to play out. I showered and put on one of my skimpier bathing suits. The boy short bottoms rode low and the neck tie bikini top cupped and lifted my breasts just right. I started dinner and had everything ready when my dad walked in the door that night.

"Jenny? Are you home?"

"I'm in the kitchen, daddy." I finished setting the table as he walked in. My back was to him and I purposely leaned over the table to put the silverware down before glancing at him over my shoulder, looking a lot like one of the pictures in his magazines. He had a clear view of my ass and I heard him pull in a breath. "Dinner's ready."

I turned to face him and watched his eyes travel down my body before his hand gripped his briefcase a little tighter, "Thank you, baby. I'll just go change while you put on some clothes then we'll eat." He didn't move and I smiled innocently at him as I walked toward him and the doorway. Pushing myself up on my tiptoes, I kissed him on the cheek and saw his eyes close slightly as my breasts pressed against the side of his chest. Then I went upstairs and pulled on a shirt to cover my top before stepping out of the bathing suit bottoms. Waiting a few minutes, I heard my dad call me from his room. The tone in his voice was slightly confused but trying to be authoritative.

"Yes, daddy?" I stood in the doorway of his room and looked innocently at him. He was standing at the end of his bed, his dress shirt was unbuttoned and he still had his dress pants and socks on. His tie was tossed on the bed and he'd moved one of the throw pillows to sit down, which is how he found the magazine I'd left on his bed. My eyes followed his gaze to the bed and then darted back to his face.

"Do you know how this got on my bed?"

I nodded and walked into the room. "I guess I forgot to put it back when I was done looking at it, daddy." His eyes widened a little. "And I wanted to ask you something about it." I was standing in front of him and I could see the slight bulge in his pants. I sat on the bed and picked up the magazine before looking at him. "Sit down, daddy. It's an important question." I could tell he was breathing a little faster as he sat down. I turned to face him more, my shirt sliding up and showing a little of my ass. I saw his eyes slide down to the exposed skin and then jerk back up to my face.

"You... you went through daddy's dresser to find this? Why would you do that?"

I put my hand on his knee and shook my head. "No, daddy, I'll ask the questions." Smiling at him, I opened the magazine and flipped to the page with my face on it. I heard him try to stifle a groan before I showed the page to him. "I was a little surprised when I saw this. Is this how you want me to look, daddy? For you?"

I could see him fighting with himself to find the right answer. He ran his hand over his face and sighed. "Baby, you know your daddy would never hurt you."

"Not even if I asked you to, daddy?" I tilted my head a little and slid my hand up his leg. He couldn't hide the groan this time and I shifted a little closer to him. "I want to make you happy, daddy. Anything you want."

He shook his head a little, "Baby, you don't know what you're saying. You can't... we can't..... Jenny, this isn't right."

I stood up and I could see him relax a little before I moved to sit on his lap. I slid a little more onto him and could feel the bulge in his pants. "But daddy, I want to do this." I rocked on him a little before lightly pressing on his chest and making him lay back on the bed. Gripping the bottom of my shirt, I pulled it over my head and took off my bikini top. I felt his cock jerk under me as he closed his eyes. My hands moved to the top of his pants and I started undoing his zipper before I felt his hands on my arms.

"Jenny, you have to stop. You're my daughter, I can't do this. We can't do this." There was a shake in his voice that I hadn't heard before and I tilted my head to look at him, pouting.

"But daddy, I want this." I leaned over and whispered in his ear, "And you know you've been thinking about this. Seeing my breasts, feeling them pressed against you." His grip on my arms loosened and I slowly moved his hands to my ass. "You've been thinking about how it would feel to slide inside of me; press your cock deep into my pussy as I whimper at your touch." I rocked onto him again as his hands squeezed my ass. "Please, daddy? I want to feel you inside me." I kissed the side of his neck and could almost feel all reserve melt out of his body.

Sitting up again, I undid his pants and slid them off his body. He sat up and took off his shirt and t-shirt and I stood at the end of the bed, fully naked and just looking at him. I could feel myself getting wetting as his cock stood up and he slide toward me. "Baby, you are exactly how I imagined. You're so beautiful." His hands moved to by breasts, cupping and lifting them before his mouth slid over one nipple then the other. I arched my back toward him and put my hands on his shoulders to hold myself steady.

I climbed back on the bed, my knees on either side of his legs as I rocked against his cock. Feeling his skin pressing through the lips of my pussy and sliding over my clit, I moaned and pushed my breasts more toward his mouth. "I want you to fuck your baby girl, daddy. I want to feel you deep in my pussy." I moved my head down a little and whispered into his ear, "I want to cum for you, daddy."

He groaned and flipped me onto the bed, moving over me and positioning himself between my legs. Uncertainty slid over his eyes for a minute. "You're sure, Jenny? Daddy doesn't want to hurt you or make you do anything you don't want to do. This is so wrong."

I smiled at him, nodding as I reached down and guided him into my pussy. "I'm sure, daddy. I want to be daddy's girl. Completely daddy's girl. It's okay daddy, it's not wrong at all. It's what I want."

I shifted slightly to kiss him and felt his cock spreading me open as he pushed into me. I cried out into his mouth and felt a tear fall on my shoulder as we found a rhythm. "No, daddy. Don't cry. This is what your baby girl wants. I want to be your little plaything. Please, daddy. Make me cum. Make me cover your cock with my juices."

He groaned again and started pounding into me, looking at me with glazed eyes before sucking on my breasts, pinching my nipple between his teeth. I could feel myself getting closer and I thrust against him faster. "Daddy, your little girl's going to cum. Yes, daddy, please give me permission to cum. Tell your little girl to cum for you."

I saw a blaze in his eyes as he locked eyes with me. "Yes, baby girl. That's it, cum for daddy. Cum for me. Make daddy happy, baby girl."

I came hard, my eyes closing as the waves passed over me. I heard him growl slightly and felt him moving quickly, sliding to one knee beside me before I felt him cumming across my stomach and breasts. I felt him slide down beside me on the bed and I turned my head to look at him. Smirking, I kissed him on the nose.

"Thank you, daddy. You've made your baby girl very happy."

He turned to kiss my forehead then leaned his head against mine. "Oh baby, there's so much I want to teach you."

"I know daddy. And I'm looking forward to learning everything you can show me." I moved my head back a little, making sure he was watching as I scooped up a bit of his cum from my stomach and licked it off my finger.

Hookie



I left the office very early today. I was out of there at 11am, I must be crazy!

Why did I leave so early? I'm not feeling sick, hung-over or anything like that. But I had an irresistible reason for playing hookie today.

While I was enjoying my first steaming hot cup of coffee this morning I received a very exciting sms from my naughtiest secret. His message was very straightforward, he was horny and he wanted to fix the problem as soon as possible. This suited me very well as I had been thinking the same thing only a moment earlier. 

I finished off my urgent work, packed up my bag, made a poor excuse and left the office, heading off to my house for a little bit of morning loving!

Now I must point out that this is NOT something I would normally do! In fact, nothing about meeting this man for mid-morning sex fits in with what I always thought were my basic set of morals.

When I arrived at home I quickly tidied the house, and put a pot of coffee on to brew, the warm chocolate aroma of the coffee filled the house within minutes. I put an album of our favorite rock 'n roll into the CD player and sat down on the couch to await his arrival. 

When the doorbell finally rang I grabbed my keys and opened the gate for him; he parked on the driveway in front of the garage and as soon as I laid eyes on him I felt my stomach muscles tighten. He is not much taller than me, but then I am only just short of six feet myself; he has broad shoulders and a strong chest with wonderfully powerful arms. He wrapped those arms around me now as we greeted each other with an embrace and a warm, passionate kiss. He must have showered just before coming to visit me because I could smell the fresh soap on his body. I closed my eyes as I breathed in the warm, clean scent of his body, a glorious mix of wild flowers and strong man. Mmmmm!

I took him into the house and made us each a cup of the hot coffee, we sat talking for a few minutes. I drank in the sight of him sitting in my lounge, it almost seemed normal. Except for the wedding ring on his finger.

When he emptied his coffee mug I stood and walked over to him. I slowly pulled my red blouse over my head and then I unzipped my jeans and let them fall to the floor. I stood in front of him wearing only a black lace bra and matching g-string. His eyes lit up and he could not resist me.

He reached out with his left arm and pulled me onto his lap, I straddled him and kissed him, exploring him with my lips and my tongue. I kissed his eyes, his lips, his chin and his jaw, then I kissed down his neck while deftly unbuttoning his shirt. I ran my hands along those strong shoulders and slipped his shirt from his arms. Now that his chest was bear I traced my tongue down to his nipples and sucked each one in turn.

All the while his hands were touching my body. Caressing my breasts and running the length of my thighs, then his hand brushed against the lace of my panties and I gasped with pleasure as I felt him touching me through the thin fabric. My excitement was building and I soon unzipped his jeans, releasing the erection from within. 

"Look what you bought me, I am a lucky girl," I teased him with a naughty grin on my face. I stood in front of him again and slid the g-string to the floor. I straddled him once more and this time I took him inside of me. I did it slowly, riding each inch of him, feeling the head of his cock spreading my lips and running up inside of me each time. Then I had to have all of him and I sat down fully on him, feeling his wonderful head reach right up to the top of me. 

I tilted my hips towards him slightly as he grabbed my arse and pushed me up and down the length of his shaft, each stroke filled my body with an electric tingling which quickly overwhelmed me as I came forcefully, screaming his name with pleasure. 

As soon as I was finished convulsing from the orgasm he told me he would like to move.

"Do you remember that photo you sent me on my mobile yesterday? You were bent forward over that counter," he gestured towards the kitchen. "I want to have you there now."

I stood up and walked on shaky knees to the kitchen counter, he was right behind me and as I bent over the counter he entered me from behind. He thrust himself deep into my slit. The wetness from my first orgasm started running down our legs as we moved to the rhythm of our lust. Soon the moans of pleasure were pouring from me and I could hear him joining in on the chorus. Moments before I reached another orgasm he pulled out of me and before I could protest he swept me into his arms and took me into the bedroom.

He laid me on the bed, kneeled in front of me and spread my legs. I felt his hot tongue run between my folds and around the pearl of my clit. 

"You taste like honey and wine my angel." He looked into my eyes as he licked my juice from his lips and then he inserted a broad finger into me. His tongue continued to dance around my clit and between my lips as he bent his finger up in a "come hither" motion and brushed my g-spot. As I felt my inner walls tighten he hitched my feet over his shoulders and penetrated me again. We reached an amazing climax together then and lay in each other's arms for a few minutes.

A refreshing shower was in order after all this exercise and I took his hand and led him to the bathroom, by the time the water was warm enough to get into the shower he was hard again and we fucked in the shower with the water running over our bodies. First facing each other, then he turned me around and took me from behind, then facing each other again.

By this stage my knees were getting weak and I turned off the water, we got out of the shower and I reached for my towel. I carefully dried the water from him, then he took the towel from me and returned the favor.

Once again we went to the bedroom.

"Choose a position," he told me, "the one that feels best for you and gives you maximum pleasure."

I smiled naughtily at him and kneeled on the bed, presenting myself to him. He slid himself into me and we fucked like horny animals. Harder and faster than anything I had experienced with him before. I had one, two orgasms before I finally felt him explode into me.

We collapsed onto the bed in a sweaty, quivering mound of sexually exhausted bliss. Now I know why I left the office early today; THIS MAN IS AMAZING!



Hooking Her Up



This story takes place towards the end of my high school. I was over eighteen and ripe with energy that I didn't know where it came from; energy that kept me restless and got me into trouble more than once. 

There were five members in our household: my uncle, his wife, my grandmother, my younger aunt, and myself. My younger aunt was the smallest of my mother's siblings and was still waiting to be married. But this story is not about her; it is about my uncle's wife. 

My uncle's wife didn't really like my presence in what would technically be considered her house. I was entrusted into my uncle's guardianship due to circumstances beyond my control and she had no choice but to accept my presence, but it was very clear from the beginning that she did so reluctantly. Our interaction, most of the time, was as minimal as possible. 

My room was a bit isolated from the rest of the house because of its purpose as a guest room. My daily routine was set so that after coming home from school, I would eat my lunch and disappear from the rest of the family until it was dinner time. After that I would disappear until the next. My family members only interacted with me if there was something I needed to help with but usually I kept to myself and they to themselves.

The first incident that brought about a minor change was on a rather hot day when my uncle's wife --- her name is Mehnaz --- came to my room and asked me to hook her bra in the back. She was fresh out of bath, probably to stay cool, and I assumed my younger aunt or my grandmother was not around, so she had come to me for help. 

It is not uncommon for ladies to ask some male child in the house to do this kind of thing when there are no females available. Only the children are supposed to be a lot younger than I was because of modesty. It is very uncommon to ask a sexually mature boy to do it because of the feelings it can arouse. To top it all, it was the aunt that really didn't like me, so I had to assume she had no other choice.

She was holding her shirt in front to cover herself and she had moved her wet and dripping hair around her neck to the front as well. Her back was bare for me to see. I had helped my younger aunt many times with the same, so the routine was nothing new to me. I averted my eyes as much as possible and quickly managed to hook her bra. She flicked her hair back onto her back and started to put her shirt on. Once it was on her, she pulled her hair out and straightened them and uttered a quick thank you and left without looking at me.

My uncle's wife is not as slim as my younger aunt is because of being married and all. She is wider in her back and has a few bulges around where the nala of her shalwar is tied. Her back is also meatier, so when my fingers rubbed on her back, it felt nicer than it had been with my other aunt. When I went back to my books after she had left, her shiny, brown skin stayed as background effect on the pages.

The incident faded from memory soon. It was about a week or so later when she came to my room again and asked me to hook her bra. This time she was not straight out of the bath; instead she was coming from her room where it seemed she was getting ready to go somewhere. She was wearing new, ironed clothes and was smelling of nice perfume, which she usually only does when she and my uncle go visit somebody in another village. It was Sunday, so that made sense because my uncle was home and must have planned a small trip.

I was surprised a bit when I realized that if my uncle was home, then why did she come to me to hook her bra? He could have done it for her. I assumed that my younger aunt and my grandmother were not available yet once again; that's why she came to me. Probably my uncle had stepped out or something.

This time she wore a bright coloured bra. The reddish colour of the material actually overpowered the brownish colour of her skin and it was the colour of her bra that stayed in my mind, instead of the colour of her skin. My fingers retained the nice warmth of her skin a while longer as well.

Still everything was on the up and up. I didn't make anything out of it, although I did feel a bit uncomfortable having to do something at my age which usually women ask children much younger than me to do. She was my aunt though and it was perfectly okay for her to come to me, as I was her nephew, which was almost the same as being her son.

One morning, as I was about to leave for school, she asked me to come with her before going out. My uncle had already gone and my younger aunt and my grandmother were busy somewhere around or out of the house. I followed her to her room. As I waited for her to tell me what she wanted me to do, she crossed her hands in front of her, grabbed her shirt from the sides and started to lift it up and off of her. Her back was towards me, so I couldn't really see anything that I hadn't seen before. She didn't have a bra on as I was able to see her entire back without being distracted by the strap.

She bent over a little and picked up a bra from her bed and started to wrap it around her breasts. It was during that bending and extending her hands outward to put her bra on that I saw the sides of her breasts clearly. She held the two straps on her back and asked me to hook her up. I moved close to her quickly and did as I was told. She picked her shirt up, put her hands through the bottom and slid it over her head and onto her body. 

She turned around as she was still fixing it and smiled. She thanked me for the help and I took my leave to go to school. All day I kept seeing the sides of her breasts in my mind and kept thinking about the way she had fixed her shirt around her breasts after she thanked me. Even her smile seemed special in the afterglow of her breasts shining from her sides. I had finally seen a glimpse of a small part of a woman's breasts. It was special.

I did wonder why she didn't ask any other member of the family to hook her up, specially my uncle because she must have put her shirt on in his presence. Then I thought that may be she just forgot and when she did remember, I was the only one around. 

I knew it was a rare occurrence to see that much of her because chances of that happening again were very little. My younger aunt or someone else would normally be around to take care of the situation. It came as a big surprise when a few days later she asked me again to help her before going to school. 

As before, she removed her shirt and looked for her bra to put on. It wasn't on the bed. She looked around to see where it was and found it sitting on her dresser. She had to turn left to go there and that meant that she had to expose her naked front to me. She put her hands on her breasts, sort of cupped them, and went to the dresser. I tried to look down to avoid seeing anything, but not before I got an eyeful. I saw her front; except the parts that were covered by her hands. I was embarrassed by the situation and felt a little flustered, but it was exciting as well. I actually felt a little warm.

She went to the dresser and put the bra on her breasts while my eyes stayed glued to the floor. She called me once she had put it on and held it in position. I moved behind her to do the hooking. Only she was standing in front of a mirror and I could see both sides of her; her back directly and her front through the reflection in the mirror. Tried as I might but I couldn't help looking into the mirror. She was looking directly at me and our eyes met.

I felt embarrassed by being so "caught" by her, but I had no choice. I saw her cleavage, her belly, her belly button, and the part below her navel. A sudden rush in my blood flow made my vision go blurry but I recovered quickly. I hooked her bra and left without saying anything. I didn't even give her a chance to say thank you this time. I was feeling ashamed of having seen my aunt so without clothes.

I don't know what made me stop and look back as I stepped out of the door. She was facing me and was watching me leave. Our eyes met again, this time directly, without the benefit of a reflection. She seemed lost somewhere and gave me a slight smile but didn't say anything. I rushed out of there as fast as I could.

Her cleavage, her belly, and the area below her navel stayed in my mind all through the day, as did the embarrassment. When I came home that afternoon, I didn't have the courage to even go eat my lunch. I was afraid of coming face to face with her. I didn't know if she was upset at my boldness of looking at her directly that morning.

I was very hungry though and I couldn't even think, let alone do my homework, because my brain needed some nourishment. I was startled when she came to my room with my food. I was grateful for her thoughtfulness and I even managed to come out and eat where we normally eat our food.

She let a few days pass before she asked me to hook her bra up again. This time she didn't need to go to the dresser so everything was standard. Except when I finished hooking her up, she didn't put her shirt on. She actually turned around to face me in just her bra. Her shirt stayed on the bed.

She smiled and thanked me and asked me if it was becoming too much for me to do this small thing for her. My eyes were focused on her chest. I tried, but failed, to reciprocate her smile. I was too nervous to speak or to do anything else. I just shook my head and took my leave.

Obviously she was becoming more and more comfortable with me; that's why she no longer cared about putting her shirt on right away. She felt okay in letting me see her only in her bra. Only that made me very uncomfortable. I didn't want to see her only in her bra. She looked good that way and I didn't want to feel about her the way I ended up feeling. I actually enjoyed seeing her that naked. My breathing became uneven. I even felt movement in my lower regions and I knew that wasn't good, or even allowed.

But there was no way for me to tell her to stop doing that. I couldn't come out and say to her that she should cover herself up because I was starting to get excited by her. I didn't know why she didn't realize for herself that it wasn't appropriate for her to show that much of herself to me. I just figured that our relationship was secure enough that she didn't need to worry about me getting excited. I actually felt guilty for having such feelings after seeing her.

It became a routine for me to every morning help her with her bra. She would go to her room. Take her shirt off while facing away from me and towards her bed. The bra was always on her bed, which she would put on her breasts and extend the straps to back where I would reach over and hook it up. Simple and quick, but always significant.

One day she went to her room and took her shirt off as usual. I realized very quickly that something was different when I found myself looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her breasts were completely visible to my eyes, which popped out of their sockets at that incredible sight. It turned out that she had left her bra on her dresser and out of habit she took her shirt off in front of the mirror where I could see her topless.

She realized her mistake quickly and covered her breasts with her hands while screaming slightly, "Hai maan!" [oh mother!]

As her eyes looked into my face and found me so flabbergasted, she said, "Turn around quickly, I don't want you to see me like this." I mechanically turned while trying to memorize that view and imprint it on my brain. I didn't want to forget it.

That was my first time seeing a woman's breasts so completely and so closely. They were even better than I had ever imagined them to be. My aunt's breasts were big and round and supple and beautiful. Her nipples were big and strong and pointy. Her flesh looked delicious. Try as I might not to, I became erect nonetheless.

When she called me back towards her again, I found her red and flushed. I was flushed myself. When our eyes met through the mirror, we looked away from each other quickly. They met a few times though. She really looked embarrassed, as did I. But nothing was said other than the looks of embarrassment.

As I was leaving, she said, "You won't tell anyone about what happened, would you?"

Her question caught me by surprise. "Who am I going to tell?"

I looked at her to see if she would say more, but she didn't and after a brief pause, I just left. My eyes kept seeing those breasts all day long.

She came to my room after lunch. It took her a while before she spoke. She said, "I feel so ashamed for what happened this morning?"

I thought about an answer for a few moments; then replied softly, "There is nothing to be ashamed of. It was an accident."

"Yes, it was." She smiled weakly. "I promise it won't happen again."

That would be a pity, I thought to myself. I would have liked to see those breasts again. I said nothing though. It seemed like she waited expectedly to hear something from me. When nothing came, she said, "You didn't feel too uncomfortable, I hope."

"I did, at first, but when I realized that it was a fluke thing, I got over it."

"Well, I am sorry about that."

Again I said nothing and she left after waiting for a while for me to say something. I didn't know what I was supposed to say, so I had stayed quiet. 

Things were a bit tense and quiet the next time we performed our routine. I felt bad because I think she felt bad but there was nothing I could say or do to make her feel better. I wanted to make her feel better though because I think she was making a big deal out of an accident. But how, that was the question.

Then it came to me. So far we had done what we were doing, that is hooking her up, in absolute silence. There was never any conversation between us other than thank you from her. I usually followed her and did what I was supposed to do and then left without saying anything. I knew that I had to break the silence or she may stop asking me for help.

The subject came without much searching. Next time I was hooking her up, I made a remark as casually as possible, "Auntie, you seem to prefer red a lot?"

That was the first time I acknowledged the fact that I had paid attention to what I was doing. She replied, "I don't know why, but I like red. It makes me feel different."

We actually had a conversation about her underwear. I wanted to know if she had matching panties on, but I didn't express my thoughts. I think she was relieved at my breaking the silence, so she asked me quickly, fearing that the silence may creep back in, "What colour do you think I should try?"

"I don't know. I hear a lot of good things about black."

From silence to saying mouthful, we had made a huge progress. Later on, as I reflected on our conversation, I couldn't believe I had suggested that my aunt should wear black underwear. It was a bit intimate for us to discuss something as personal as undergarments, panties and bras to be specific, but we had done it. I guess after dealing with her bra for so long, it was only a slight jump to discussing it. In our culture though, that was a big jump.

Next day, sure enough, her bra was black. The fact that she had worn it after my suggestion, when in the past her bras were normally red or white, was a significant thing and I had to say something. 

"I see you are wearing black today." Was all I could come up with. 

"Well, you suggested it. So, how does it look?" She asked boldly as she gave me a view of both front and back.

"It looks better than red." Was all I could come up with, again.

She smiled and I felt that a huge wall had been lifted from between us. A wall that not only consisted of the silence and formality that we usually had, but of something else as well, of another barrier. As I was leaving, she said, "I know I am going to feel very embarrassed and even ashamed later, but look."

I turned to look and she had pulled her shalwar down a little to expose her panty. It was a matching panty. I just laughed. She laughed with me.

I tell you, I felt hard all day long. There was an erection between my legs that just wouldn't go away. I kept thinking of my aunt, of her bra, of her panties, even of her naked breasts as I had the privilege of seeing them once, even though accidentally. I felt special because she took my advice and choose a colour that I had suggested. I imagined her thinking of me when she bought those and that made me feel excited. My aunt was thinking of me when she was buying her underwear. Imagine that, my aunt buying underwear because of me, dare I say, for me.

She came to my room that afternoon. There was nothing she talked about, only fiddled with my books a little. Then she left quickly. I understood that her presence was the result of that special intimacy that we had shared. She just wanted to be around me, as I wanted her to be around. I felt good.

Next morning, I asked her, "So, what did uncle say about your new colour?" There was a faint but naughty smile on my lips. 

She beamed when she answered, "Oh, I didn't show it to him." There was more she almost blurted out but she stopped herself there.

Deep down, I felt the power. She didn't want to show to my uncle what was between the two of us. I realized the special bond that had been created between us. That bond only became more clear when she came to my room the next afternoon as well. We had become friends, I felt. Having a female friend felt different, in a good sort of way.

A few days later, she told me, "I have a surprise for you."

When I went to her room and finished hooking her up, she turned around and put her hands on her hips. "What do you think?" she asked.

I looked at her with amazement on my face. She was wearing a black lace bra. I could see her nipples through the lace, even though they were barely visible because the colour of her nipples was dark enough to blend in with the lace. I was speechless.

She smiled almost victoriously. She said, "I guess the look on your face says everything."

I stuttered, "Sorry, I don't know what to say. It looks great."

The next day, she showed me a red lace bra. It was equally revealing, but still the colour of her nipples sort of blended with the dark red colour. Same look on my face, that must have become a familiar thing for her, and same victorious smile. I think she was enjoying herself; or rather she was enjoying the teasing she was doing with me.

Then came a white lace bra. Her nipples were very visible that day. Even the rest of her breast was showing through the white lace. The contrast was so strong that I could make out all the details of her breast through that and she was proudly displaying them for me. She must have seen that look of arousal on my face. "So, how do I look?"

Her question was a bit more direct. "You look great?" I replied.

"It's not too much, is it? I feel I am showing too much."

"Well, yes, you are. But, this is only for you, so it doesn't matter. No one is going to see anything." I was finally able to get a hold of myself.

"Thanks Naeem. But are you okay with it? I mean, you also get to see it besides me."

"Yes, I am okay. How does uncle feel about it?" I don't know why I said that but the thought was in my mind.

"I have a secret for you. I don't show this even to your uncle."

"Why not?" I said without thinking.

"This is our secret, that's why." She said a lot in that statement but I didn't feel the weight of it until much later.

That afternoon, she came to my room. She seemed a bit down and rather subdued. I asked her, "Are you okay? You don't look okay."

She replied, "I have a slight headache."

"Why? What gave you that headache?"

"Thinking too hard, I guess. I've been worried all day about your reaction to my being so daring."

"Actually, I didn't think much about it. We have become comfortable enough with each other that it didn't seem out of place."




Hooking Her Up



"It didn't." She was serious.

"Not at all." I looked into her eyes to convince her of my sincerity.

"Well, I am relieved." She did not seem relieved. 

Next morning, she was again wearing that white, lace bra. When I finished hooking it up, she turned to face me and asked, once again, "Are you sure, you are okay with it?" She was very serious, and I couldn't understand why.

"Yes, I am." I said forcefully. "Don't worry."

"I won't." She whispered. 

As I was about to exit the door, she called me, "Naeem!"

I turned to see what she wanted. When I looked at her, I couldn't believe my eyes. She was standing in front of me without her bra. Her breasts were fully exposed for me to see. I stood there with my mouth agape.

She asked, "How about now? Are you okay with this as well?"

A thousand and one emotions went through my system in milliseconds. My dick went from 0 to 90 degrees in a snap. She must have heard that snap as it hit the cloth and stretched it out. My aunt was standing topless in front of me, asking me if I was okay with her being that way. Her eyes were glazed and her face taut. She seemed in a daze.

I did the only thing that came to my mind. Actually at that time, my mind had no ability left to think, so I moved with instinct. I went up to her and looked at her breasts closely. I could see the blue veins running though her flesh, the erect nipples, and the goose bumps around her areola. She was trembling.

I gazed at them for a while and then slowly reached with my arms and placed my hands gently on each of her breasts. She gave a muffled sob as my hands cupped her breast and pressed on them gently. I looked into her face. Her eyes were closed.

I waited for her to look at me. After a few moments, she looked at me. I looked into her eyes and with trembling lips whispered, "Yeah, I am okay with it."

I had to leave at that moment because I didn't know what to do next, and I am sure neither did she. The softness and the warmth of her breasts stayed on my hands all through the day. I didn't even attend many of my classes. I sat under a tree, hidden from view of most of my school fellows, and came home rather early. I went straight to my room and collapsed on my bed. 

She slunk into my room. I didn't get up. She came and stood next to the bed. She had covered her chest with a dupatta. I just looked at her as she looked at me. 

She slowly removed the dupatta from her chest and said to me, almost in a whisper, "I spent my entire day like this." I could see the shape of her breasts through the thin material. Her nipples were erect and poking through.

"Why?" I asked with a similar whisper.

"Because you didn't hook me up before you left." She said seriously as she waived her bra in front of me.

I laughed hard when I realized that she had spent the whole day without her bra. She put her finger on her lips to shush me. I asked, "Why didn't you ask someone to help you?"

"Only you are supposed to hook me up." She said in a way that I almost felt like kissing her. She removed her shirt and showed her breast to me again. I jumped up from my bed and cupped them quickly. There was more vigour in my touches. I was being rough with her. She just sobbed while I touched, caressed, squeezed, and hurt her breasts. 

When she realized that I wasn't going to stop, she pulled herself a little away and said, "Quick before somebody finds out that I am here." Then she put the bra on her breasts and turned her back to me so I could hook her up. After hooking her up, I reached around and placed my hands on her breasts again. She had to force my hands away so she could put her shirt back on. I continued caressing her breasts even after that and she actually had to hold my hands to stop me so she could leave.

I was out of control, to say the least. I was feeling very erratic. My blood was rushing through my body so fast that I felt dizzy. My brain couldn't keep up with my emotions. I spent the whole weekend on hot coals, but the fire burnt through my passion so much that by the time we met again, I was calm and in control of my hands.

When I placed my hands on her naked breasts during the next opportunity that came, she did something that I found very endearing. While I caressed and squeezed her breasts, she held my face in her hands. There was so much tenderness in her touch that I practically melted with affection. She let me play with her as I saw fit and she only showered me with unspoken love. My chest felt so heavy that the feelings almost oozed out of my eyes.

That afternoon, she came to my room and came into my arms. The first time ever we hugged and what a hug it was. She was so soft and so warm; I wanted to absorb her into myself. She held herself against me while I soaked myself with her tenderness. Then she left as quickly as she had come. She left me behind shaking and trembling and feeling cold. 

I had to get a grip on myself. I was so overwhelmed with her softness that I wasn't giving myself the chance to savour it. I was so hungry that I was eating such delicious food so quickly to almost give me a stomachache. One reason being that we only had limited time with each other; the other being that it was all something new for me. I had only heard stories, and here I was actually experiencing what it feels to be intimate with a woman. Doors were opening to me to a brand new world and I was like a village boy in a big city for the first time. 

Besides, I felt a little foolish for acting so emotional. I didn't know how she felt about the whole thing. Did I just take her by surprise or did she want to be with me as much as I wanted to be with her? I couldn't say for sure and I had to find out if she really had as strong feelings about the whole thing as I did. I decided to be restrained in our future encounters.

I practically went back to our previous routine. I didn't touch her, only kept myself to hooking her bra. She was no longer hiding herself away from me, but I controlled the temptation to cup her. I withdrew from showing her my feelings almost completely. It must have seemed like I was upset with her. She didn't say anything but I could tell that she was confused.

One night as I was thinking about her soft and warm breasts, she came to my room in darkness. She got into bed with me and hugged me hard. Then she whispered in my ear, "Why is it that you don't touch me any more?"

I wasn't ready for such a direct question because I was hoping that she would show her want of me instead of just asking me to show my want of her. I didn't answer her.

"Do you know how much I miss your touch?" She whispered again. "I am going crazy waiting for it to come and it is not coming. Have I done something wrong?"

"No," I knew I had to answer. "It's nothing like that. It is just that I don't know how to behave with you. I don't know what I am supposed to do. I don't know what you are supposed to do. Then again, you don't really do anything. I seem to be the only one who is doing something."

She slapped me in the face. "I can't believe what I am hearing." She seemed angry. "I have given myself in to you. I have let you do with me as you please. Isn't that something? What do you want me to do, what am I supposed to do? I have made myself available to you."

I understood then what she was going through. I also understood that she was as lost as I was. We were both discovering an uncharted territory and we both had no clue or direction. I just held her in my arms as hard as I could. We both stayed together with each other until she realized that she had to go back.

I made a plan after she left. I remembered her words that she had made herself available to me. I hadn't actually claimed my prize, reward, right, whatever. When we were together the next time and she stood in front of me topless, I asked her to take her shalwar off.

She seemed hesitant, but I was serious. After a slight pause, she pulled her nala and loosened the shalwar around her waist, then she let it drop to the floor. I moved a little back to look at her completely. She felt awkward, even embarrassed, but I didn't care. I wanted to see her that way. She was only in her black panties. Apparently, she had settled on black as her new colour. It was lace panty, so her hair and her pussy were visible through it. I then went closer to her, knelt in front of her and started to slide her panty off. She lifted her one foot and then the other to let me remove it off completely.

I could hardly breathe. My breath was coming so hard and fast that it was getting stuck on the sides of my air passageway. I swallowed hard as I looked at my aunt standing in front of me completely naked. I must have been pretty yellow in the face as all the blood must have drained from it. I was hard, really hard.

She moved towards me, took my face in her hands and whispered, "You need to calm down, or you are going to faint."

I stuttered, "I can't. I don't have any control. I don't know what to do."

"Let me check something." With that she reached down and placed her hand where my cock was straining. She felt my hardness and I squirmed. She said, "You seem to have a very serious problem." Then she started to unbutton my shirt and said, "You better get out of your clothes quickly so I can help you."

I rushed through undressing and stood in front of her naked. My cock was pointing towards the ceiling. I could see certain amazement in her eyes.

She quickly went to her bed and lay down. She asked me to come to her. I was nervous and trembling. I moved next to the bed. She pulled her legs up so her knees were touching her breasts and her feet were in the air. She asked me to come around and sit where her butt was. As I got on the bed and sat on my haunches in front of her pussy, she opened her thighs and gave me a good view of what I never thought I would get to see at my age. She asked me to lean forward and overshadow her with my body. I had to stretch myself over her. She reached between us and grabbed my cock with her right hand. Her soft hands on my shaft sent shivers up my spine.

She rubbed the end in between her legs and I felt her wetness. I had to close my eyes because it was feeling so nice. It seemed like she was looking for something with it and soon she found it. She kind of stuck the tip on an opening and then quickly reached around my body and grabbed my butt cheeks. 

"Now, push slowly," She said.

I pushed down and the doors to heavens started to open. I felt myself getting inside of her and my body shook with the force of such shear pleasure. I kept going in and in for a while before my legs touched her legs.

"Ohhhhh, Naeem." She said in a convoluted voice. 

She motioned for me to pull back up. I slowly started to pull my pelvic area up and I felt myself coming out of her slowly. As I felt the head almost about to come out of her, she grabbed my ass and pushed me down again. 

"Ohhhhh, God, Naeem." I felt a bit scared at the voice coming out of her throat.

"Ohhhhh, Naeeeeeem, you are such a beeeeeaaaaast!"

I kept moving up and down slowly, with occasional push against her body to hold myself all the way in.

"Ohhhh, Naeeeemmmmmmmm, you feel so good. I feel you all over my insides."

I kept moving in and out. Then she grabbed my ass and started to push it down forcibly. It seemed like she was asking me to increase the rhythm. 

"Ohh Naeem. Ohh Naeem. Oh, Oh, Oh, Naeem. Oh, oh, oh, aaaaah!"

I started to move even faster.

"Ohhhohh, aaaahhh, aaah, ahh, ah, aaaaaha, Ohhh, Aaaaah, Naeeeeem."

I kept moving at that fast speed.

"Oh, oh, oh, ah, ah, ah." She kept screaming.

"Ohhhhohhhhoh, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrh."

"Oh, God, Oh, Naeem, Oh, God, Oh Goooooood!!" With that she started thrusting upward.

"Ohhhhh, Ohhhh, Oh, oh oh oh oh." Then one big thrust up and she held the position as her body shivered and jerked.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh, Naeem." She said one last time as she relaxed a little.

I slowly picked up the pace. She was relaxed and calm by now and let me go at any pace I wanted. Soon, I felt the signal. I felt this sudden rush of incredible pleasure and something started to erupt out of me and into her. I couldn't hold my voice any longer and had to scream, "Ohhhh Auntie!"

"No, call me Mehnaz," she said but I was too far gone to care. Then with one final thrust I held her pinned down and I felt this liquid gushing out of me and into her, first in big spurts, then in short spits and then just leaking slowly.

I was spent. I had to just fall on top of her where she held me for a long time.

Needless to say, I wasn't in the mood to go to school after that and I realized that the energy that used to keep me restless had left my body for a while.

For a short while as it turned out. I spent the rest of the morning spending it and hearing that weird sound of hers with "Oh God, Oh Naeem" mixed in. 



Hooking Jörmungandr



Hooking Jörmungandr*

Some of you are looking for delicate characterization, bald emotion, interesting plot twists, and realism. Look no further, since you will find none of that here. You were warned.

Also, there is very little sex in this story, and yet I would certainly characterize it as a 'spank' story. But I guess I have different standards than most...

This story could have fit into many different categories, but since almost all of my writing has been in LW, my fans (All three: one in the bedroom, living room and kitchen) can find my writings easiest here. And there is infidelity.

*

"Excuse me?" I said disbelievingly.

"It's quite simple," the tall guy said to me. "You've danced with her twice now and offered to buy her a bunch of drinks. So here's my offer. I punch you in the mouth now, buy you a drink and we call it a day."

"Or?" I was beginning to not like this asshole.

"Or I let you hit on her..."

I looked him up and down again. He was tall, but he wasn't built. His face was sunburned and his hair was a bit long. He didn't look like a wife watcher but it takes all kinds. I fell back to my normal lines. "Dude...I don't know what you're saying. It's just a dance. I'm sorry you're feeling all insecure." It's important in situations like this to avoid smirking. It just causes bad blood.

He quirked an eyebrow at me and smiled. "Okay. I can see you're going to be that way. I'm going down the road to pick up some smokes, a soda bottle and a couple of things at Lowe's. Have fun." Then he walked off. The fucker just walked off!

***

When I'd driven up in my cobalt blue Mustang with 2 inch raised Cervini hood painted a contrasting glossy black, I'd seen him outside smoking a cigarette. Since he wasn't with a woman, I didn't waste any time with him, instead checking out the various couples heading into the club. All of them looked at me as I rumbled up to the valet parking. Yeah, valet costs extra, but what is the point of driving a pussy wagon if the pussy doesn't see you drive up? That's why I have a barely street legal exhaust system.** You have to be seen.

I checked out the couples but a lot of them greeted each other. Groups were bad news. A girl might wander off from just a boyfriend; particularly if he's new, but she's less likely to if she's in the midst of a bunch of mutual friends. One guy saying she's a skank can be covered up. Witnesses? Not so much. Women are very particular about their reputations.

I cased the place very thoroughly as I entered. It was a Friday, so there was no obvious Easy Money in the place. What is Easy Money? Professional married women with independent incomes. The latest studies showed that they were 40% more likely to screw around on their husbands than stay at homes since they didn't need to worry about their incomes facing the vagaries of the justice system. It made them feel secure. But because it was Friday, most of them were either at home or with their husbands. No joy there.

This was opposed to professional SINGLE women. Of course I'd do them to, but they already came with a few strikes against them. They were looking for something permanent, they expected to be catered to (i.e. paid for), and they generally were pretty arrogant in their accomplishments and independence. And then there were the market signals: If they were so great, why were they still single? If I wanted to pay for pussy, I'd hire an escort and get some professionalism, instead of paying a like amount for a 'not tonight, maybe another time'. You had to be careful about single women. James Bond had it right, single girls make things complicated.

You know, a lot of people speak poorly of the other man, but honestly, I think they are just jealous and don't want to make any effort. I mean, I'm at the gym every day. I'm keeping my Mustang, motorcycle and boat cleaned, waxed, and set for company at a moment's notice. I need to make sure I'm always properly groomed and then there is the 'school work'. I need to be conversant in half a dozen women's magazines, current events, and, if I have the opportunity, doing personal research on any particular target I get in sight. The game theory alone is pretty hectic.

Take for example that set of three women over in the back booth. Do you go with the prettiest one and hope to hit the jackpot, or do you go with the ugly duckling who should be begging for attention?

Wrong answer! It doesn't matter what you choose, they are both wrong. First off, hitting on a group of girls without assessing their interest is a loser's bet. If they are having a girl's night out, you say hello, maybe send over a drink to ping their radar, but you stay away! If they're on the pull, then you try to pick out the one with the most baggage. Why? See, you aren't thinking. You need to pass the judgment of three of the most skeptical bitches on the planet. The cynicism of women in bars is pushed up to eleven in general. But if you make a nice guy play for the crazy one, the other two, who KNOW she's crazy, might wonder if maybe a normal girl might have a shot. That way, you get to make your play to all three. And if it works out? All the better. That's my theory and I'm sticking to it.+

But I don't normally do one night stands. It's that reputation thing again. Girls care about theirs and they are very mindful of everyone else's. So you need to make sure yours is not bad. Generally, I find a married woman, make friends and we fuck as long as the guilt doesn't get to be too much for her, she moves, or I get bored. Generally, the guy never finds out. Women cheat smarter. They plan.

So I generally have one or two girls staked out, depending on their availability. A guy needs his 'down time' after all. Fucking four days or nights a week is plenty and still leaves me time for the guys.

I frowned. Not that I had too much of that anymore. See, I broke Rule One: don't shit where you eat. Wes' wife wasn't the hottest in the land, but she seemed lonely. Hell, it hardly took any effort at all! A lot of pent up passion. And I broke Rule Two: Never at her house. It had been a very slow week. Suffice to say, the guys I normally hung out with were not particularly happy with me. Didn't they understand the Man Code? Yeah, I felt bad, but it was free pussy! And I never liked Wes that much anyway, but I missed Phil and Hank.

Wes' wife was trying to fix things but she was staying at her mother's house, so she wouldn't be available. I've been in this racket a long time and if she's not in the same house, much less the same bed as hubby, she's toast. She just doesn't know it yet. I stirred my drink. Maybe in a couple months she'd be good for a few rebound fucks.

So my problem, and the reason I was cruising this club, was that those three assholes were running me down to everyone we knew. I needed to branch out. I was getting older and I really didn't like the looks I was getting from a lot of the people around here. Maybe it was time to move. I heard Cleveland was nice. Maybe Dayton. Lots of lonely military wives there.

It was then that I saw her. She was sort of hard to miss. She wasn't dressed flashily. She had on a tight sleeveless blue button top with a scoop neck and a matching skirt which came down to below her knees. Her flowing blonde hair whipped around as she danced.

And she danced a lot! Oh, she danced with the tall guy, but she was dancing with everyone. Abandon. That's it. She was dancing with abandon and fearlessly.

Yes, she was surrounded by girls in little satin nothings but she was...almost manic. I was getting hard just watching her. I had to join the queue. I had gotten in two dances when I was interrupted by tall, dark and stupid.

Now, I'm not stupid. I gave one buddy a high sign and asked him to see what the dummy was doing. I wasn't going to be lulled into a false sense of security. But Will came back and told me the guy just hopped in this Blue Chrysler and lit out of the place.

So...was he stupid? Was he trusting? Did he not care? What the fuck was up with that offer? Maybe he was in an open marriage? From his offer, he COULD be setting me up. I looked around the club. A bunch of guys were doing the stupid play with her, throwing lines and alcohol with abandon. She'd drink a gulp with a guy, dance once and wait for the next one. Considering she was almost dry humping them, they seemed pretty happy with the results so far. But she didn't seem to have a bunch of heavies or constant companions around. At one point, she looked around a little lost, holding her hand to her brow as she scanned the crowd, probably looking for dickhead.

That was my cue. I approached from behind so my words could give her a little jolt of adrenaline. "He abandoned you. And that's a crime in this state."

She flinched and then turned to me. "You again. My, you are persistent."

"Not persistent. Appreciative. You dance well. You have energy. Anyway, I heard that guy you were with...whoever...he was running out for some smokes or something. Which is just stupid because the barman keeps some hidden behind the bar for sale if you're a guy on the inside." It helps to make yourself look worldly wise. 

She laughed. It was a full throated laugh. "I doubt they carry his brand. He has very specialized tastes."

Bingo. We were up to strike two at this point for limp dick. I hadn't seen her smoking so that was probably a wedge issue. Second was being a picky bastard. First it meant he wouldn't be back soon if he needed to run to a tobacconist to refill and second, she probably had some question why this guy had to buy 'one particular brand of crap'. Oh, women'll demand a specific bra, perfume, or brand of purse, but God help a guy if he gets fussy.

He seemed like a cocky son of a bitch, now that I thought of it, but I had the panties of the wives of better men then him in my drawer. And he was insulting. I probably couldn't bring it off, but I'd be damned if I didn't do a full court press.

"I hate to sound trite, but you're new here."

"And you'd know that how?" she asked archly.

"Because I run around this place a lot. I like the energy."

She picked up her drink with her left hand and took a slow sip, a wedding ring flashing in the light of the bar. "Oh? Do you cruise bars a lot?"

"I don't 'cruise' anywhere, unless it's by the lakeshore or down Myrtle Beach. Nah. I meet my friends. I'd meet my girl. Like I said, this place has good music and good dance energy. You have to go somewhere."

"And where is this girl?" she asked, scanning the room.

"Europe. She got a good job opportunity and she grabbed it." You always need to have at least been in a monogamous relationship. Europe gave me a cachet by proxy that I'd either been with a European woman, or was cosmopolitan enough to have attracted a cosmopolitan girl.

And I waited for the follow up question I knew was coming "And you didn't go with her?"

I shrugged. Pat answer number 4. "She knew the language. I didn't. I don't like that part of Europe and I have plenty of family and friends here. She was a great gal, but she wasn't that special someone. It was her choice as much as mine. I mean, she could have stayed here and I'd have supported her, but she valued her independence more than our relationship I guess. So here I am."

See what I did? Not only did I show I was sophisticated enough to prefer one part of Europe over another, but I insinuated that I liked her more than she liked me, that I had money, and that I was loyal to family and friends, while she wasn't. If asked, I had her name, sexual quirks, that funny thing she did at the beach and a dozen other details all laid out. See what I mean about homework? Most guys just don't try hard enough! Lazy bastards deserve to have their wives run around.

"Tell you what? Let me get you some water. All that booze is dehydrating you. You don't want to fall over out there. Why don't we sit this one out and I'll keep you company since you've been abandoned." If you're dancing, you're not talking and you don't dance your way into her panties; you talk your way into her panties. She'd already seen me dance and I'm better than 90% of these bozos and Roderick and Gregor were gay. They just liked to dance with girls.

We found a reasonably private booth. She insisted on the seat where she could watch the door unfortunately. I could finally get a better look at her. She seemed in her mid twenties, which was just perfect! There were two female cheating demographics: the Twenties and the Forties. Both had huge spikes in their rates of infidelity. The former because they didn't know any better and just got out of college to the mundane dreariness of life and the later because they were 'established' which they took to mean matronly and undesirable...something I was more then happy to talk them out of. I know some guys think that 40 is old, but those doorknobs obviously never saw Demi Moore in that stupid Charlie's Angels movie. She was a very hot 40! I found the older women tried harder and were more prone to picking up their share of the motel expenses, a double win.

Her expression was a bit more calculating then I anticipated. She had some funny round scars on her upper arm and this clunky big plastic bracelet with a keyhole on it and a stupid l.e.d.. She fluttered her hands a lot and it seemed that her fingers seemed twisted out of true. I noticed she wore a long gold chain, the end tucked down in her blouse where the pendent marred the lines of her outfit. Even with all that, she was a hot piece of tail

"Let's start with your name."

"I'm Andrea."

"And what do you do?"

Her eyes crinkled in amusement. "I'm a homebody. This is the first time my husband has let me out of my cage in weeks. Ever since the move."

Perfect! A controlling, picky husband. And one of the twenty five factors that predict infidelity was moving to somewhere new. Women felt lost in a new community and they tried to find connections very hard. I was very hard and I would be happy to let her connect with me. I was feeling more hopeful already.

"So what brings you to Columbus?"

"Oh. Curtis is looking for some work."

"Work? He doesn't have a job?" I didn't sneer because that would put up her shields. But I did put in a tone of disbelief. Life changing event. Another factor. Possible depression, though she didn't seem that way.

"Well, he's more...freelance. His last overseas contract expired so we're at loose ends. I hope something comes up..."

"Freelance? A friend of mine said that's shorthand for unemployed." Let my 'friend' sneer at him. We shared a little laugh.

"Sometimes it seems that way. I have to say I don't like the travel." Good, good, trouble in paradise and separation. Ding ding. Was that the dinner bell I heard ringing?

"A girl has to have roots." I agreed. At least one. Sunk in 7 inches deep. "But you seem to be fitting in very well here. Lots of...admirers." Here I let a little sneer out.

We chitted. We chatted. I tried very hard to make her feel comfortable. At the very least, I wanted to get a few accepted kisses or gropes off of her if I could, just because that guy was an asshole. I'd give it a shot when he'd see it. Things like that tended to fester in guy's mind. The door out the back by the storeroom was a good exit. I even knew the trick to stop the fire alarm from sounding, so I was feeling rather secure.

It was getting close to an hour and dickhead still hadn't showed, but I was expecting him any time soon. Of course, after the water, I pumped her with a few drinks. No, I didn't dope her drinks or anything! What kind of low life scum do you think I am? I fuck WILLING women. It's her choice to take a drink. If it lowers her inhibitions, that's her problem but I'm no fucking rapist!

The songs had been running about 5 fast and two slow. It helps to know the DJs. They give you the mix. They were two in the fast set, so I invited her to dance. She scanned the crowd quickly and accepted, shaking her head slightly. "No funny business?" she asked with a smile.

"Cross my heart..." I made the obligatory movement over my chest

"...and hope to die? Okay."

When we got out, I signaled Scott the DJ. That was the other part of the Art. Set up and cash. I held up my hand behind her back until he could see me and waved my finger up and down twice. He nodded.

"....and let's bring it down a notch, boys and girls." He aborted the peppy techno dance mix and put on something slow and I suddenly owed him $50. If you don't have the green, you can't make the scene. Of course, once a girl promises you a dance, she's the worst kind of bitch if she suddenly backs out. Set the stage, my friend, set the stage.

She made a bit of a face when the music changed, then shrugged her shoulders and held her arms out. "I'm a woman of my word." I was a gentleman for the first dance, of course. Close but not too close. But I knew that the two drinks we had would be hitting her system and that the slow dances would run for a set of THREE this time.

"It's so nice to be out among people again..." She said wistfully. "You get to feeling...isolated...you know?"

"Of course. Your husband should know that. A girl like you needs a little excitement on the side. Outside of the boring routine."

She smiled brightly. "No...I don't see that as much of a problem. I generally give him as much excitement as he can stand."

Excellent. A woman who was sexually aggressive toward her husband: another notch on the infidelity checklist. How many was she up to? Five? Six?

The second dance, I saw a tall black leather jacket, so I moved in, kissing her full on the lips, and mauling her ass. Damn. It wasn't him. She didn't resist, but she also didn't join in, instead looking at me resigned. "You just aren't going to quit."

I gave her bad boy smile # 3. The 'Who me?' one. "Guilty as charged."

"A seducer and an oath breaker. I'm actually going to hold you to your promise." She leaned forward and kissed me hard and deep with a lot of tongue. "Do you know what the most famous kiss in the world was?"

I furrowed my brow. "Wasn't it that sailor and that nurse during World War II?"

She giggled. "No...it was in the Bible." Her voice dropped low. "A kiss like that has...repercussions. Do you know someplace close and private? For just the two of us?"

"There's a storeroom here with a lock." I said in similar husky tones. "I happen to have a key."

"Of course you do." she said in knowing tones. "Let me get my purse and I'll meet you there..."

***

We tore into the storeroom I unlocked with the key ($200 and a few dates to Reese, the assistant manager). It was in the back by the fire alarmed door. The music from the club still throbbed, but was muted in here.

I was kissing and mauling her breasts. She was pushing me into the store room by the time we got there, her clunky bracelet and her fucking clutch purse thumping my back hard. What the hell did she have in there, a brick?

The kissing was awkward. She kept twisting her head to look at the room, when I wanted to just shove my tongue down her throat. "Don't worry baby. There's no one here..." I was at least able to get my jacket off and had started on the buttons on her blouse, my mind racing. It had been an hour since he disappeared, so he'd be close to getting back I was guessing, so foreplay was out. It would probably take him at least 15 minutes of looking before he found us, if then. I could get my nut off in that time. Not sure how good it would be for her.

The other question was if I wanted to rip off a few buttons because she was a one time thing or see if this hot piece of ass was a repeat customer. I was guessing one off, but I wasn't sure. Better safe than sorry. A good piece of tail was worth the wait and worse comes to worse, I still get laid.




Hooking Jörmungandr



Her top was half open and I was massaging her breasts, with her pushing me away from the door into a back corner among the racks of food and liquor (Again. Cock hound, not a thief). They felt real and spectacular. I was running my hands up her skirt and lowering my head to do some hickey action on the twins, when she unexpectedly stumbled and hooked her heel behind mine as I was stepping backwards. I fell, my head and elbow cracking against the concrete floor. "Son of a bitch! Be careful." I said in as calm tones as I could as she landed on top of me.

She straddled my waist on her knees and her hands were on both sides of my head as she looked down at me, smiling distantly. "Oh poor baby. Want me to kiss it and make it better?"

"Nah. I'm okay. Come here." I really didn't want to break the mood and my hands were running up under her skirt again, looking for her ass and idly wondering if I could score her panties.

"Sure. I just have one question for you."

"Okay..."

"Do girls really fall for your crap?" She smiled at me, and it wasn't the coquette smile. It was a calculating bitch smile.

God damn it! She was a Class Five, Blue Ball Busting Cock Tease! I twisted my thigh because women seemed to feel they had a license to just kick guys in the balls, particularly cock teases. I'd had enough experience with forceful rejections and the fucking cops never seemed to care. Bastards.

"Alright. Let me the fuck up." I said. You get your shot and that's it.

"I mean...I guess it works, because you kept trying and trying. But the fact you thought I would be that stupid...that I'd accept that kind of loss...it's insulting."

Didn't she ever shut up? "I suppose a simple 'not interested' would have been too much trouble? Why the hell did you ask for someplace private if you weren't going to do anything?"

"Because that was a public place. Because I didn't want people to see us together. Right now, you're just a guy I had a couple of dances with."

"Who had his hands on your tits." I rubbed in.

"The price I decided to pay." Her voice started to raise. "To think that you would risk my relationship because you wanted to get your dick wet? That I would drop something I treasured simply for some slick bastard?"

I slapped some dust off my jacket. "Whatever you say, sweetheart..." The night officially sucked! I did get to feel her tits and ass and I'd get a charge out of telling her husband that (though part of my brain was REALLY screaming at me about that idea), but at this point I was looking forward to fucking and I had a raging hard on to prove it. I hate teases.

CHEK-CHAK!

"You aren't listening to me."

There are some danger sounds which are ubiquitous in our culture. Police sirens. Tornado alarms. The sound of a FUCKING BULLET being chambered in an automatic! And there was this crazy blonde chick with a real fucking gun between me and the only door out of here!

"Tell me, have you ever fallen down stairs?"

"I guess clumsy people do." I said very carefully.

Her voice hardened. "No. Stupid people do. They make the wrong choice.. and they find what they thought was that magic someone who's important and wealthy and...and then...things aren't magical. And you fall down the stairs that first time." Her face got blank. "And then it's a door...and a volley ball. And people stand there and they look at your casts and they accept the lies because they're uncomfortable about getting involved.. And you talk about it to the police, but it's a small town and they play cards together. And for two years, I fell down the stairs, hitting every fucking step on the way down to nothing until...someone found me. Someone helped me make sense of my life. SOMEONE stopped the falling. And you want to take that away from me? Her eyes were dark, almost without iris. Just dark pools looking at me.

This from the girl who was dry humping guys on the dance floor and had her tongue down my throat? 

A niggling part of my mind started to scream for attention. She had danced one dance with each guy. And would you be in here if she hadn't? 

"Yeah. You two seem to have a real special relationshiiit!" I finally noticed her necklace. The 'pendant' was a little gold washed 9 mm shell casing. I couldn't stop looking at it.

She noticed my gaze and smirked, eyes blazing. "Do you like it? We decided to go the non-traditional route for engagement jewelry."

"Look...I can see I may have caused you...ah...offense. I want to SINCERLY and COMPLETELY apologize for anything you took the wrong way. This is a misunderstanding." Did anyone else hear my heart pounding?

"That's nice. He used to write how sorry he was on my casts. Little poems and 'I love you's'. Somehow it didn't make it hurt less. But if it makes you feel better, I apologize for any pain I cause you..." She started to raise the gun.

Knock----knock knock

She pointed her finger at me. "Hold that thought." She skipped...the fucking bitch SKIPPED to the door and unlocked it, watching me the whole time. That tall fucker walked in, looked at me and her and sighed, shaking his head, closed the door.

She got on tip toes and rubbed her cheek against his neck in an almost feral way, watching me with slitted eyes.. "Hi Puddin! Look what I scraped off my shoe!"

He just smiled. "Hey Babe. Whatcha doing?"

"Well, from just a short acquaintanceship, I'd call it a public service."

He sighed again. "I got you something." He reached under his jacket and pulled out a package of plastic sheeting, an empty coke bottle and a packet of those yellow bleach handi wipes.

"You" kiss "bring" kiss "the best" kiss "presents!" She stripped the plastic wrapping off the tarp and started to push it into the coke bottle. "Isn't he thoughtful?" she asked me.

"You two are just shitting me! You're trying to scare me!"

"Yeah. That's it. Are you scared yet?" He tossed out offhandedly as he started to pull on a pair of latex gloves from his pocket.

"Come on!" I shouted. "You can't just kill me because I wanted some strange puss..." I clamped my mouth shut at their narrow glares.

"People getting shot over sex every day. And today is your lucky day..."

"You call this lucky?"

"Bad luck is still luck. I bet you wish you'd picked the first option now..." he smirked. I fucking HATE smirks! I told you they caused bad blood.

"First option?" she asked.

"Yes. I offered to just punch him in the mouth and we'd call it even."

Hope was starting to bubble up in my heart as she turned, looking at me incredulously. "You mean he warned you and you STILL tried to get in my pants, you fucking MORON?!?"

"I changed my mind. That first option looks pretty good." 

She molded herself to his side, while still keeping her gun hand free. "HUN-neee...that agreement is null and void. He made his run at me" Her voice flattened. "And he had his hands on my ass. I need a bath!" She considered. "I think we are WAY beyond a punch in the mouth."

"What do you have in mind, pumpkin?"

She pulled an iPhone out from the case on his belt "He didn't take your offer. But I suppose he could ASK for an ass whuppin." She hit the record button.

"There is no fucking way I'm asking him to whip my ass!" Who were these people?

"Asking AND letting." She shrugged, tucked the phone away and turned to him "Did you remember to park in back?"

"Of course. And before you ask, I already laid down more sheeting in the trunk."

"Oh good! I don't want a repeat of last time," she trilled as she patted his cheek affectionately. 

"Last time?" I asked "The joke's gone on long enough."

They ignored me. "I know! Replacing the carpet liner was bad enough but that fiber board was a real pain. I was talking to a guy about custom fitting a plastic trunk base for us. Save on clean up." He shook out the plastic sheeting.

"Okay! I get it! I'm really really sorry!"

"He should get us a price. And that might be an option from the manufacturer. I'll check the catalog." She started to hold the plastic bottle to the barrel like a silencer, frowning at it. "Did you remember the duct tape?"

He sighed in a long suffering fashion. "I didn't get duct tape because we were already supposed to have some in the car. But when I checked, I couldn't find it," he said in a semi accusing voice.

"Oh Curtis! I know I had two fresh rolls on the shopping list. Did you check the glove compartment?"

"Excuse me!" I shouted for their attention. "People will miss me!" Would they miss me? Exactly how many suspects did I have in my...oh shit!

"Of course I checked the glove compartment. AND under the seats. You'll just have to make due. So the abandoned quarry?"

"That's the way I'd go. It's rain tomorrow so that takes care of the tracks. We should stop at the house and get some chain to weight him down."

"WAIT!!!"

***

I was just opening my good eye when I heard "Smile!" Then a flash took away my vision. By the time I could see again, she was humming contentedly, picking up the coins off the floor. It seems that one of the things that bastard wanted to pick up was a roll of quarters and the wrapper broke about the same time as my bicuspid.@

"What was that about?" he asked as he was icing his knuckles with a bar towel pack.

"Just something for the Christmas card. Oooh! Does my baby bear have sore hands?" She started to blow on his knuckles.

I coughed loudly twice and spat blood. "Rrrmmbr tha' drnk? Ah'll tek en sss pack 'nsted." I said around my swollen face. This wasn't the first time I'd been found by an irate husband though normally I didn't need to breathe shallowly. You needed to ice up early. Trust me.

He walked over and took the ice pack towel and rubbed it around this brown thing which he tossed on my chest, dropping the ice pack on it too. Eventually my eye focused enough to see it was my wallet. "Are we done here? Or are you going to be stupid Reginald Perry of 1313 Mockingbird Lane? You won't see us again, but are we going to have to see you?"

"Mmm good. Wha am I gon t'll cops?"

"Tell them you walked into a big fucking door! It always worked for me." she said grimly.

"Now, now!" he chided. "We got everything?" Nod. They turned and started leaving the room. "Oh...by the way. I got you some Mustang valve stems."

"REALLY? And what am I going to do with Mustang valve stems...whatever they are?" she asked eagerly.

"Oh...I was thinking of taking the insides and putting a nice gold wash on them, a few hoops and making a couple of sets of earrings..." the door closed.

It took me a moment to put it together and then I groaned. Now I needed to ding Reese for a cab to the doctor. I wondered if the Urgent Care Clinic was still open.

Yep. Way past time to get out of town. Fuck Ohio! Fuck Concealed Carry! I needed to find a place with nice strict gun control laws! I'd heard good things about California...++

***

Every writer gets an over the top story and this is mine.

If you'd like to post long diatribes about the legal ramifications or technical malfeasances, please do so. Unfortunately, the comment section for this particular story is very spotty and if it doesn't show up, just keep trying. Get very detailed. It will work eventually. Trust me.

Comments on the writing, good and bad, are always welcome.

* One day Thor went fishing and he hooked Jörmungandr, the Midgard Serpent that twisted around the world, which shocked the shit out of everyone involved. He was delighted to get such a creature since it would prove his studliness once and for all and he raised his hammer to kill it. This pretty much proves that Thor was both evil AND stupid , since the Midgard Serpent was the only thing keeping the Earth together and he didn't give a shit about the numerous mortals living on the planet...or appreciate the fact that while HE lived in Asgard, he currently wasn't there...

**The author is not responsible for the nefarious ways scumlords like Reg use Mustangs. I'm sure that other Mustang owners possess them for the purest of motives.

+ Bear in mind I know nothing about women. I am not a Player, nor do I play one on TV. My coolness quotient is WAY low. I do not advocate the use of any of these techniques on anyone, anywhere. If you do, I hope you get what you deserve. (And if they work, contact me by PM...hush! The wife is coming! Act natural!)

@ This naturally lead to another tedious 'discussion' about who misplaced the fucking duct tape. Is there anything duct tape CAN'T do? Three out of four murderers swear by the stuff.

++Which just goes to prove how stupid Reg is. Does he really think those two give a damn about gun control laws?