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The Only Way

By: mothersson



I don't really remember when I developed this thing for my mom. It's not like by most standards she's anything special to look at. These guys who send in stories about their 50-year-old moms who look like high school cheerleaders -- I don't buy it. It's the easiest way to tell the story's made up. If you're really doing your mom, or even if you just really want to, it's not because of what she looks like. It's because she's your mom; because each time you slide into her you get this sweet, sickening feeling that something somewhere is breaking, and you never want it to stop breaking.

For me it may have started when I went away to college. I was 300 miles away from home in a strange city, living on my own for the first time, and I was on the internet a lot. I started visiting adult chat rooms for people in my new town, and often as not the women I found online were older than me. The age difference always became obvious right away, and the ones who weren't immediately turned off by it usually got turned on by it after awhile. After some chatting I met up with a few of them at their apartments or at hotels, and I was amazed to see how into it they would get. Into the incest thing, I mean. You've never seen a woman cum until you've seen her fucked by a man half her age while he calls her "Momma" over and over again. It drives them fucking crazy.

Anyway, for a few years my sexual diet consisted exclusively of these Momma types. After college I met a girl closer to my own age (a couple years younger, actually), and a few years later we got married. But I never lost my appetite for older women, or for the incest fantasy in general. In some ways being locked into a monogamous relationship only made the fantasy more intense. Unable to satisfy it physically I had to use my imagination to make it kinkier and kinkier, until -- well, you can guess the rest. You can only heave yourself against that mental wall so many times before either you or it come crashing down.

By the time I was 30 I had it bad. My marriage was great and I had a job I loved, but every time I went home to visit my parents I was in agony. My parents were still as much in love as ever and I couldn't find the slightest ray of hope to feed my fantasy. I reacted by becoming a little cold around my mother. I made excuses not to visit and over the years made my way back home less and less. I could tell it hurt her a little, and I took a tiny amount of satisfaction in that. If I couldn't have her, I wanted her to have some sense of what it was like to be unwanted.

All of that changed when my dad died. I got the call early in the morning and by that evening I was on a plane home, with my wife in the seat next to me. It was a heart attack. Mom was still in shock when we got there. She didn't seem to have absorbed it yet. My sisters flew in from the other side of the country with their husbands, and we all spent the next few days making funeral preparations and sorting out Dad's effects, and the nights getting drunk and talking about old times. Mom seemed happy to participate in the drinking -- I think it helped keep reality at bay -- but she sat off at a distance while we went over plans for the funeral and talked on the phone with lawyers and insurance companies. Dad had life insurance enough for three wives, and she wasn't going to be wanting for anything.

Her detachment didn't keep me from comforting her with the occasional hug or shoulder rub in the days before the funeral. She seemed happy that the distance between us seemed to be closing, even if the cause was a sad one. She had no idea how much more quickly and fiercely it would continue to close in the weeks to come.

After the funeral, my sisters and I went apart and talked for awhile about Mom. It was agreed that I, being a mere six hours away, would stay an extra week and, after that, would fly or drive down a couple times a month to check in on her. My sisters would take turns flying out every month or so. They were grateful for how much of my time I'd offered, and they headed back to their lives satisfied that our mother was in good hands. I told my wife about my plan to stay an extra week, and she flew home alone the next day.

I thought the freeze between Mom and me would continue to melt, but once the others were gone she became sad and withdrawn. I think the weight of a lonely future had begun to settle over her. Mostly she wanted to sleep, or sit on the couch doing embroidery. I tried to persuade her to get out of the house, maybe go to the beach or the park, but she wasn't interested. I made reservations at a restaurant downtown, but it turned out to be a place she and Dad had gone to often. She was getting more and more depressed, but all I could think about was my own predicament. With just a few days left before I had to return to my life, my one chance was slipping away from me.

A couple of nights before I was due to head back I went to a bar by myself for a drink. Mom had turned in early and I needed to clear my head. I was on my second beer when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around to see Eddie Rodriguez, my best friend in high school, beaming down at me. He sat down and we had a few more drinks and caught up on old times. Eddie's little sister Gina was the object of quite a few adolescent fantasies in our school, and we'd have all been hanging all over her if not for Eddie. He was insanely protective of her, and after seeing a couple of guys get their faces adjusted the rest of us knew to stay away. I must have been on my fourth beer when I let it slip to Eddie how bad I'd wanted to ask his sister out. I was still half afraid he'd take a swing at me, but he just smiled and shook his head. 

"You knew better, though," he said, adding "and you still do, don't you?"

I just laughed. "Still the crazy over-protective big brother, huh?" I said. "Are you trying to make sure she dies an old maid? Don't you ever want her to have any fun?"

Eddie smiled a kind of sleazy grin and said, "She has plenty of fun, believe me." 

"Yeah right," I said, taking another drink. "With who? Big brother? What, do you stay at home playing Monopoly every night? Doesn't sound like much fun to me," I said, trying to goad him, but he just took another swig of his beer and kept smiling. 

"Not the kind of Monopoly you're thinking of, but something like that, yeah," he said. He was silent a moment, then asked suddenly, "Why do you think I was so protective of her in high school?"

"Cause you're a dick," I said.

"Yeah, but why?"

"You didn't want her to have any fun, and you didn't want us to either."

He sat silently a moment, staring at me with the same sleazy grin. "Or... maybe I wanted to be the one having the fun."

I looked at him blankly for a few seconds while the words fought through the alcoholic haze in my head.

"What?" I finally said, a smile breaking across my face.

He just smiled, clearly impressed with the response he'd gotten from me, though he didn't know the real reason for it yet.

I quickly recovered from my shock, and seeing a rare opportunity I quietly unloaded my ten-year struggle with my Mom. He barely batted an eyelash. 

When I was done he leaned in a little closer and said simply, "So when are you gonna do it?"

It wasn't that simple, I told him. I explained her current state, and how hard it was to get any reaction at all out of her right now. He didn't say anything for a few minutes, just sat and sipped slowly and thoughtfully on what must have been his sixth beer. Then he got up and told me to come outside. In the parking lot he put the gate down on the bed of his truck and started laying out his plan. I caught a cab home afterward, and the whole ride home I was sure I was in the midst of the strangest dream.

The next night Mom and I were sitting in the living room playing Hearts. We were playing in the living room so that Mom could watch an old movie, which made it easier not to talk. Around 9:30 she said she was getting tired and stretched like she was about to stand up, when a noise caught her attention in the backyard. I heard it too but pretended not to.

"What was that?" she said, looking nervously toward the doorway to the kitchen.

"What was what?" I asked.

"That noise. I think something's out there."

I looked curiously in the direction she was staring. "I didn't hear anything," I said.

The noise occurred again, this time louder. It sounded like a two-by-four clattering on pavement.

"There," she said. "You hear that?"

"Yeah. Probably just a cat."

She still looked nervous, so I told her I'd go check it out. I tried to look nonchalant as I stood up, but my heart was in my throat. I was perfectly aware of the danger that was about to enter. I walked toward the kitchen doorway, but before I took five steps a man with a ski mask stood in front of me. I don't know how he'd gotten in -- the plan was that I'd come outside and investigate, and he'd use the opportunity to "force" his way in. But here he was, and I was ready for whatever would come.

The man held a six-inch hunting knife in one of his gloved hands. With the other he grabbed my by the face and shoved me back into my chair. I turned and looked at Mom -- her face was white as a sheet and she stared unblinking at the intruder.

"There's, there's -- " she stammered, pointing at the TV and the stereo. "T-take whatever you want. Just please don't hurt us."

She looked over at me and I did my best to look just as terrified. Truth be told, I was probably more so. 

"I'm gonna take what I want, don't worry about that," the man said. 

He waved the knife toward the hallway and told us to get up. He herded us quickly into Mom's bedroom at the end of the hall and told us to get up on the bed. When he produced a roll of duct tape from his coat pocket I got a little nervous. It seemed strange that he would have it on him -- I'd rather he used something he found in the house. But when I looked over at Mom she seemed too petrified to be bothered by that minor detail. 

The man barked out instructions rapidly. "Kneel -- facing each other -- you, straddle him -- arms around her waist -- yours around his neck -- don't want any space between you --"

He taped our wrists together, then circled the tape around our waists a couple of times to pull us more tightly together. When he was done he stepped back and assessed our captivity.

"Don't fucking move. I'll be back in a few minutes," he said. This wasn't according to plan either, but I was willing to roll with it. Down the hall I could hear him unplugging things and pulling them down from their shelves.

Mom was shaking slightly, and I hugged her a little closer, softly assuring her it would be ok. Her sagging boobs were right at eye level, but I had turned my head to the side so that my ear was tight against her chest. Her heart was racing violently, and with her bound hands she held my head more tightly to her.

I moved my hands up and down her back in a soft, soothing way. I made small movements at first, but after a few minutes I was pressing my fingers deeper into the muscles of her back and getting closer to her hips and ass. Her breathing slowed and deepened and she kept her arms wrapped tightly around my head as my hands moved imperceptibly lower. She probably thought I was scare, because she kept kissing the opt of my head and pulling me in closer to her chest, which made me in turn tighten my grip on her hips and pull her pelvis harder onto my hips. My head was flattened against her chest and I was practically rubbing her ass when Eddie came striding back into the room.

He was empty-handed, but from the noise he'd been making I knew he'd amassed a lot of loot down the hall. I was pissed. There had never been any mention of him robbing the place, but I guess he felt he needed something out of the deal for himself. In any case, I was in no position to call him on it.

"Well, aren't we cozy," he said, seeing my hands spread across the top of her ass. 

"Don't let me stop you," he went on. "In fact, let's get a little closer."

He held the knife out toward us and we both froze. With a couple of quick slashes he cut away the tape around our waists and sliced through the back of Mom's blouse. A moment later he had cut apart the straps on the back of her bra as well. She gave a little yelp as he tore the pieces of her bra from her body and the remnants of her top fell from between us.

"How's that -- better?" he asked me. 

I did my best to look horrified. I wanted nothing more than to bury my face between her beautiful old breasts, but I knew it would ruin everything. I clenched my jaw and turned away from her.

"Come on, now, that's no way to thank me," he said. 

He grabbed me by the hair and pushed my face between her boobs, shaking it back and forth while I gasped for air. When he let go of my hair I didn't pull my face back right away, but left my forehead buried in her flesh while I caught my breath.

"Why are you doing this?" I heard my mother say. I pulled my head back and glanced up at her nervously, but she wasn't looking at me. 

"Take everything in the house if you want, but please stop this," she said. Her features looked haggard and she had a faraway look in her eyes.

He leaned in close and pressed the flat of the blade against her shoulder. 

"I am going to take everything in the house, and for now that includes this," he said, waving the knife at the two of us. "Now," he said, taking hold of my hair again, "suck." And he wrenched my face toward her right nipple.

I didn't do it immediately. I kept my mouth and my eyes clenched tightly shut. He seemed to expect this because he calmly pulled my head back and placed the tip of the knife under her boob.

"I see. Maybe you'd be more comfortable if it wasn't attached to her. You can go to it or it can come to you, but one way or another it's going in your mouth."

He released my hair and turned the blade of the knife upward as if preparing to sliced. I hesitated another moment before Mom said, "It's ok. Let's just get him out of here quickly." My head fell forward and I took her breast between my lips.

I didn't do much with it at first. I didn't want to seem like I was enjoying any of this, so I just sort of held the end of the nipple between my lips. Eddie quickly realized I was stalling, and he brought the knife back to rest on her boob.

"I didn't say to kiss it, I said suck it!" he leered. 

I blinked, unsure of how forcefully to proceed even in the face of his threat. Mom, whose hands had never left their position behind my head, settled it by very slightly, almost imperceptibly, pulling me closer to her. With that tiny encouragement, I opened my mouth wider and took her nipple into a deeper kiss. My lips closed around it and sucked it in, and my tongue flicked across it and swirled around it. I closed my eyes again, and my hands, which had balled into fists as soon as Eddie re-entered the room, relaxed and returned to their place on the small of her back just above her large rump. I could feel her breath quickening again as I sucked away on her boob, and once again my hands started softly kneading her flesh, inching their way lower. Eddie gave me little sleazy encouragements, and kept asking Mom how she liked it, but of course neither of us replied. After a couple of minutes he told me to suck on the other one for awhile, and I reluctantly, slowly let her reddened tit fall from my lips and moved my mouth to the other, my hands now practically cupping her ass. 

After a few more minutes Eddie pulled my head back again and told Mom to hold her hands up. He cut the tape from her wrists, and a look of relief washed over Mom's face as she assumed we were being released. But Eddie had other plans. He had me lift my arms over her, and she quickly dismounted from my lap. Before she could move to the edge of the bed, Eddie waved her back toward me with the knife.

"Unzip his pants," he said sharply. 

The blood instantly drained from Mom's face as the words hung in the air.

"Please don't do this. Don't make me do this," Mom said, surprising both me and Eddie with a little lunge in his direction. "You can do whatever you want to me. Just take me into the other room and you can do whatever you want. Don't make me do this." She was clinging to his shirt and her hands started going lower, fumbling with his belt as she spoke. Eddie just laughed, grabbed her wrists and turned her back around toward me.

"We might just do that, but you're going to do what I tell you first, or he's gonna be the one to pay for it. Now take his fucking pants off!"

I thought about helping her out, but again I didn't want to seem like any less a captive than herself. So I swallowed hard a couple of times and watched mesmerized as she slowly made her way back over to me and began undoing my pants.

"Lay back," Eddie barked at me, and I did as he said. "Pull them all the way off," he said to Mom, and her trembling fingers slowly, apologetically hooked the waistband of my pants and pulled them down to my ankles and dropped them to the floor.

"The boxers too," Eddie said, and without looking at what was under them she stripped my shorts off of me and dropped them on my pants. 

My cock isn't huge, about 5 inches, but it was pretty rock solid by this time. Eddie glanced at it, then at me, then turned that huge sleazy grin on Mom.

"Looks like somebody enjoyed suckin' his momma's boobs a little more than he should have. How about you return the favor. Start sucking his cock."

Mom just sat there not looking at either of us for a moment. Now it was my dick that was in danger of being cut off.

"I'm not going to tell you again," Eddie said, pressing the blade into the thick patch of hair at the base of my cock. "You can suck it attached or detached, but it's going in your mouth."

My eyes grew wide with a fear that wasn't entirely fake. Mom took one look at my face, then bent her head over my waist. She took the head into her mouth and just held it there at first. Her eyes were tightly shut and I could tell she was trying hard not to think about what she was doing. It occurred to me for a moment that maybe this was a first for her. I had no idea what my parents' sex life was like, but it was very possible she had never given head before in her life. Her lips were very dry, and her little back and forth movements over my knob were kind of painful. 

After a few more threats from Eddie she loosened up a bit and wet her lips and started taking more of me into her mouth. Any doubts I'd had about her experience evaporated after a few minutes. Don't get me wrong -- it was a fairly mechanical blow job. When you're being forced to suck your son's cock at knife-point you can't be expected to be that into it. But she knew how to keep her teeth out of the way while she sucked her cheeks in, and she even swirled her tongue around the head every now and then. It was bliss. Eddie grabbed my hands, which were still bound by tape, and placed them on her head, and it didn't take long before I had two handfuls of her hair and was very lightly pushing and pulling on her head while pumping my hips in a fucking motion. She didn't object, but she kept her hands squarely on the bed, her own fists full of the quilt we were laying on. 

"All right, that's enough," Eddie said after about ten minutes. I swallowed hard in anticipation of what was coming next. He grabbed Mom by the shoulder and wrenched her around so that she was on her hands and knees facing away from me. He shoved her knees back a little to make her ass go a little higher, and whacked her arms so she was resting on her elbows. I got up on my knees and did my best to look horrified. It wasn't that far from what I was feeling.

"Now fuck her," he said sharply. 


The Only Way



A sobbing protest escaped Mom's lips as she tried to roll over and get away, but it was a weak effort and Eddie held her steady by grabbing her neck and pressing the knife tip between her shoulder blades.

"Please don't. Please," Mom whimpered, and I couldn't tell if she was talking to Eddie or to me. She was crying hard, and I knew I was going to need a little encouragement. I looked up at Eddie and he read my thoughts.

"I'm getting tired of having to ask twice with you two. Get it through your heads -- you can do this with some blood or without it. It's your choice," and to illustrate his point he slipped the blade into the back of her pants and pulled up hard, nearly tearing them clean off. More rattled than I could possibly have pretended, I pulled her pants the rest of the way down to her knees, exposing her bare ass. My cock was still raging hard from the blow job, and I leaned forward and positioned the head an inch or two from her pussy.

This was the moment I'd been waiting almost ten years for, and I wasn't sure I could do it without one more final push. To my surprise, it came not from Eddie but from Mom.

"Just do it," she whispered between sniffles. "Just get it over with so he'll go." And she leaned back into me.

My throbbing rod went in with one smooth motion, and with another came back out. I was surprised to feel how easily I penetrated her. Apparently, at some point during all the sucking, Mom had gotten quite a bit wetter than she'd let on. I started a slow, steady rhythm, going neither all the way in nor all the way out each time, and keeping my still-bound hands planted on the small of her back. For her part, she kept perfectly still. Her short hair hung around her face so I couldn't tell if her eyes were open. The only sound she made was the occasional sniffle -- other than that I could barely tell if she was breathing.

"Get the fuck down here," Eddie said after watching our mannequin-like performance for a few minutes. He dragged me off the bed by the elbow and I stood beside him while Mom stay perfectly still, her belly drooping in a resigned and beaten doggy-style pose.

"Look at this," he said, pointing his knife at my twitching, rock-hard dick. "It doesn't take a genius to see you're enjoying yourself up there, so fucking act like it! If I have to say it again you're going to be fucking her with half a dick. Understand?" 

With that he slashed the knife through the tape around my wrists and shoved me back up onto the bed. I knelt behind Mom again, this time taking hold of her large, wide hips in both hands.

"Just do it," she said in a small, flat voice. "Just give him what he wants." And with a hard, full thrust I started to fuck my Mom.

It wasn't like before. Each stroke went all the way in, and my hips made a slapping noise against her big ass as I pulled her harder onto my cock each time. Her breathing got faster and was punctuated by little grunts. I let go of her hips and moved my hands up to her shoulders, squeezing the flesh around her neck and shoulder blades.

"Uuunngh, uuhh god," she whispered appreciatively, and Eddie and I exchanged a smile.

I kept my hands on her shoulders and quickened the pace of my thrusts, slamming harder into her and making waves ripple across her large fleshy ass. The ferocity of my pounding turned Mom's grunts into high-pitched little moans, and I knew then that she was gone. She was lost in pleasure, and nothing I did at that point could possibly be held against me.

I started fucking her with more energy and boldness, taking a handful of her hair in my right hand and reaching down to squeeze her swaying tits with the other. She let out a long, sobbing moan that came from the very bottom of her lungs. Eddie was apparently happy with how things were going.

"Isn't that better, sweetheart?" he said, walking around and kneeling in front of her so that they were face to face. I let go of Mom's hair and she dropped her face into the quilt in shame, but the little moans didn't cease.

"You want me to tell him to stop?" he said, still grinning broadly through the mask. "That what you want?"

"Yes," she hissed, and spit into his face, but still her breath was racked with small whiny moans.

"You say that, but we can tell you don't mean it," he said in a low voice, not bothering to wipe the spit off the mask. "And besides," he went on, "I'm not sure it's up to you or me anymore. I think your boy has staked a claim to you back there, and he doesn't seem to want to stop now." 

"Nnuungh, uhhh, god," Mom whispered. "Your fault, not his," she said, lifting her face back up and practically growling the last words.

"Don't tell it to me," he said, with a hard, sober challenge in his voice. "Tell it to him."

As her face dropped back into the quilt I was afraid for a moment what she might say, but no words came, just the same panting, whining moans, muffled now by the blanket. I put the heal of one hand hard into the small of her back and rubbed the other all over her ass and down the backs of her legs, back and forth from one cheek to the other. I quickened my pace a little more.

"Tell him what you want," said Eddie, standing up and putting his hands on his hips. "Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I've been wrong all night. Let's see. Go on, tell him."

She didn't say anything, but responded to my quicker pace and the position of my hands with shorter, slightly louder moans.

"Come on, tell him," Eddie said, in the same low, serious voice.

"Uhhnn, god -- d-don't," she said softly, between moans.

"Don't what?" Eddie said.

She didn't reply, but buried her face in the quilt again.

"Slap her ass, maybe that'll help her remember," he said.

I lifted my roaming hand and brought it down hard on her left cheek. Her head snapped up and she yelped my name. I slammed my hips harder into her and rubbed my hand in wide circles over the spot I had just slapped.

"Well?" said Eddie. "Come on. It's between you and him now. Tell him what you want."

"Don't! Uhhngghh, Uhhnn, Uoohh god! Don't!" she said, almost shouting now.

"Don't what?" Eddie asked again, and when she didn't answer, he just smiled and said, "Slap it again."

Again I slapped her ass and was met with the same shocked yelp and whine.

"Come on," Eddie said, bending down and putting his face inches away from hers. "Tell him."

Not needing any more encouragement from Eddie, I reached up and grabbed a handful of her hair again, turning her head so I could see her face. With my other hand I once more slapped her large red ass, harder than the previous times. Her howl turned into a deep moan as I rubbed the spot again and fucked her harder.

"Tell him what you want," said Eddie, as I slapped her ass again, and then again.

"D-don't, uunnhhh, Oh Gaawwdd -- don't.." she whined.

"Don't -- what!" I finally said, tightening my grip on her hair and twisting her neck a little more to make eye contact with her.

"Don't, uhhnn -- Don't. Stop -- please, uhhnng, don't stop."

I let go of her hair and took hold of her hips with both hands again, pulling her mercilessly onto my cock with each savage stroke. Her arms gave out and she dropped down onto her shoulders as I slammed my hips into her large round ass, rubbing and slapping it with complete and total abandon now.

"UUOOHHHH GAAWD, HONEY," she howled, "OHHH GOD HONEY DON'T STOP! DON'T, UUUOOOHHHHH GOD, DON'T STOP! PLEASE DON'T STOP! FUCK, UUOHHHHHH, GOD, DON'T STOP FUCKING ME, HONEY, DON'T STOP FUCKING ME, BABY!"

Hearing her finally beg me like that I couldn't hold off my orgasm any longer. As jets of hot semen surged into her womb she let out one final wail that seemed to come from someone else entirely. It was still echoing around the house when I collapsed panting on top of her. I brushed her hair aside and buried my face in the back of her neck, and for several minutes we lay there, sweating and groaning, letting our breath and our minds throb and swell with the enormity of what we'd just done. When I finally lifted myself off of her and looked around the room, we realized we were completely alone. Eddie was nowhere to be seen.

With trembling hands we covered ourselves with bathrobes, and on unsteady legs we ventured out into the hallway. In a pile in the living room was the loot Eddie had gathered, minus the DVD player and the stereo. I wasn't the least bit pissed at him, and Mom hardly seemed to notice the mess at all. She sat on the couch, bewildered, while I went around and made sure all the doors and windows were locked again. I was afraid at first that she'd want to call the police or go to the hospital, but if it crossed her mind she didn't let on. 

When I had secured the house I came back to find her heading down the hall toward the bedroom again. Her demeanor was completely opaque, and I wasn't sure if she wanted me to follow her or not -- for all I knew she wanted to me to leave the house and never come back. But the big surprise was that I didn't care. I didn't feel the need to ask her what she wanted at this point. She left the bedroom door open and the light off, and when I came into the room a few seconds behind her, she knew it was to stay.



The Only Way I Could Lose It



I've always been shy and socially awkward. Really, not just socially awkward, but socially anxious, even fearful. The thought of having to talk to people frightens me. Along with all that I have very low self-esteem that crushes all my hopes for changing anything for the better. So I've had very few friends and no romantic partners. Not that my life is horrible. Being valedictorian and starting college at sixteen can give an ego boost. But then being short, small, thin, frail, and withdrawn among a university of men all bigger and more manly than I'll ever be squashes any of that pride.

Still, I pushed myself and by the time I turned nineteen I was in my last year of undergraduate work with majors in biology and math, and a strong minor in computer science. I was going to do research that anyone around me could never comprehend. I already had. But despite all that I would have traded it all just to be able to talk to girls. Well, that's not true. I would have traded it all to be able to fuck girls. I was obsessed with it. I thought about fucking constantly. I had never had sex. At the age of nineteen I was still a virgin. I hadn't touched a girl. I hadn't even kissed a girl. I could barely speak to them. I was a mess. Social anxiety and the physique of a twelve year old boy aren't what any woman is looking for in a romantic partner.

So my first time having intercourse came as a surprise to me. It would have come as a surprise to the woman too if she had been awake for it. My first time was a rape. Of course it was. Looking back there was no other way it could have happened. I remember that night fondly.

It was just past three a.m. and I was wide awake. Unlike most of the other students at the university awake that night having fun, I was sitting at the kitchen table with an almost empty mug of coffee beside me, my Abstract Algebra book open, and a mine field of crumpled up paper scattered around me. It was a Friday night and everyone else was having fun, while I was doing homework. So, it was a typical Friday night for me.

"I didn't sign up for this," I grumbled and then immediately corrected myself. I had signed up for it. I just hadn't known what I was getting myself into. 

"Fuck football and fuck Russell," I yelled and shoved my book across the table, knocking more paper onto the floor.

I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed to release the tension. I laid my glasses on the table and rubbed my eyes. My eyes were always sore from sleeping too little and staring at books and computer screens too much.

Then, I heard a thump at the front door of the apartment followed by giggling and a loud voice barely muffled by the door. I sighed deeply and considered going to my own bedroom to avoid my roommate coming home from wherever he had been all night, but decided to sit there, wanting him to see me still awake, still studying, working hard, and all because of him. 

I put my glasses back on quickly without hooking them behind my ears. I pulled my book towards me and sat up straight, trying to look like I was still engrossed in my work. I heard him fumbling with the key in the lock and considered opening it for him, but discarded the thought. Let the asshole get his drunk ass in himself. I helped him enough. 

I heard him talking to someone and heard a quiet laugh again. He was with a girl. I immediately sat up straight and felt my stomach tighten. It wasn't rare for him to bring a girl home with him and I should have figured he would that night. He was the star running back for our team. Girls threw themselves at him like he was a rock star, all of them gorgeous, girls I could barely make myself look at but ogled as best I could when their backs were turned. My heart was hammering in my chest as I wished I had gone to my own bedroom when I'd heard him. Now I was going to have to sit there while Russel and some gorgeous girl laughed at me for studying on a Friday night. I tensed at just the thought of it. I considered quickly scuttling off to my bedroom when I heard the lock slide back and the door was shoved open. 

I looked away, searching for the paper I was writing on just a minute ago. I pulled it towards me and grabbed for the pencil but it spun from between my fingers and fell on the floor.

"What a spaz," Russell laughed as he entered the room. "He's always dropping and breaking shit."

I tried to pretend I hadn't heard him and bent over to get the pencil. My glasses slipped from my face and fell on the floor. Russell laughed again, joined by the girl this time, a high mocking laugh that dripped with the disgust she felt for me.

"Dammit," I hissed to myself. I squinted to locate my glasses and leaned out of the chair to pick them up. 

I put the glasses on and as I was sitting back down Russell slammed the door closed loudly making me jump, causing my elbow to bump my coffee mug, knocking it on the ground, bouncing and spinning, spraying the bit of coffee across the carpet.

They both broke out in laughter. I felt my face burning and clamped my teeth together to stop them from chattering. I couldn't look at them, too embarrassed to let them see my face, and just sat there letting their laughter fall on me, pounding on my head and shoulders. People were always laughing at me.

I went to the kitchen for a roll of paper towels, stepping on wadded up pieces of paper. As I turned around I kept my head down so I could barely see them standing by the closed door, leaning against the wall, looking at me. Laughing at me.

I dropped to my knees, picked up the coffee mug, and placed it on the table. I unrolled some paper towels and began sopping up the coffee.

"My roomie's always good for a laugh," Russell bellowed. 

"Glad I could amuse you," I stammered, hearing my voice cracking, losing any of the anger I wanted him to hear. I even spoke like a wimpy loser.

I saw his feet out of the corner of my eye as he walked towards the kitchen table. I hoped he wasn't going to sit down and mess up my papers and books. I wanted him to just take his girl to his room and leave me alone.

"You're still up studying?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said.

I pressed more paper towels into the carpet when she walked towards me. I saw a pair of brown leather ankle boots. I looked up her long, tanned bare legs to the very short blue denim mini-skirt and tight pink long-sleeved shirt that left her tanned flat stomach bare, a ring glittered from her belly button. I turned my head back down before I saw her face, hoping she didn't seem me staring up at her, already feeling that lustful heat in my gut and groin from just the sight of those legs and stomach, that bare flesh that looked so soft. My head was buzzing as I soaked up the last of the coffee spill.

Russell said something but I didn't hear it.

"What?" I asked, trying to sound exasperated, but knowing I just sounded confused.

"Did you finish my paper for tomorrow?" he asked again.

I picked up the clump of soiled paper towels and stood up, my eyes on the ground so I couldn't see him.

"Yes, I did it first thing tonight," I said. "Now I'm working on my own homework."

"Thanks, man," he said, actually sounding thankful. He always made it hard me for to hate him.

"I printed it out and put it on your desk in your room where I always do," I said.

I walked into the small kitchenette and threw away the paper towels.

"The paper about the condoms right? The Trojans?" he said, then laughed at himself.

"The Trojan war," I said, knowing he was joking but unable to stop myself from correcting him anyway. "The Iliad..."

I turned around to give him a quick lesson on Homer's Iliad, but stopped when I saw the girl wobbling next to him.

At a university of at least 50,000 students there were the people you seem to always cross paths with or people that you notice in the crowd, and she was the one I noticed in any crowd and was always looking for. She had an incredible body with curves that I had only seen in movies and magazines, and she seemed to enjoy showing them off by wearing low cut blouses, pants that didn't even cover her hips, and skirts that just barely covered her perfect round ass. I stared at her anytime I saw her, even followed her from a distance, just to watch her hips and butt move as she walked.  

She had her hand resting on Russell's shoulder, trying to look casual, but actually using him for support. Her eyes were half-closed and not as much staring at me as looking around me. Still, even drunk or stoned or whatever she was she looked gorgeous as ever. She had on dark red lipstick, pink blush, and blue eye shadow that melted into her green eyes. Her auburn hair flowed in long waves down to her bare shoulders and long neck. Her round firm cleavage pushed up and out of her tight shirt that barely covered her torso, just wrapped around her large breasts, leaving the top of her breasts and her stomach bare. The opening at the neck plunged down so I could easily see she wasn't wearing a bra. 

"Whatever, man," Russell said, forcing my eyes to him. "Thanks for writing it."

"That's my job," I squeaked and sat back down at the table.

"I feel a little dizzy," she said, leaning into Russell.

"Then sit down here," he said. 

He lead her to the couch and she fell onto it. He sat down next to her and sighed deeply. She wrapped her arms around his arm and laid her head on his shoulder.

"What the hell did you take at that party?" he asked her.

"I don't know," she mumbled, her long auburn hair covering her face. "Angela had some pills and gave me some."

"You shouldn't take whatever people give you," he said. "That's just stupid."

"Whatever... dad," she said, laughing to herself, and leaned back against the couch.

"I'm not being your dad, just... whatever," he said, sounding exasperated.

"He's right," I said, feeling I had to force the words out of my restricted throat. "You need to be careful with that stuff. You never know what could happen."

"Fuck both of you," she mumbled. Her head was laying back against the couch with her eyes closed. My eyes traced the length of her long neck down to her breasts.

"Kids, today, eh?" Russell said to me and smiled.

I forced a smile back at him.

"Hope we're not bothering you," he said to me.

"No, it's fine," I heard myself say. "I should probably go to bed anyway."

"Hope we're not running you out of here. You can hang out with us if you want to," he said.

"I don't care," I said and pushed myself to my feet. "I'm going to my room to try to get some sleep."

"We'll keep it down," he said and grinned, showing that they probably wouldn't keep it down.

Before I turned away I looked at her slouching on the couch with her head still laid back, her arms laying slack to her sides, her left leg hooked over his right leg, spreading her thighs so I could see far up her short denim skirt to her tiny pink thong. I felt heat rising on my face again, angry that this girl I had lusted after so much was here in my apartment and my roommate was about to fuck her.

I went to my bedroom and closed the door. The one, and probably only, benefit to living with Russell was the on-campus apartment we got with two bedrooms and a small kitchen/living area. Most of those apartments had two people to each bedroom but Russell and I each got our own bedroom. The apartment was small compared to those off campus, but with only two people it was the nicest place to live on campus.

For the privilege of living in such comfort and for having my tuition and housing paid for I had to help Russel with his school work. Of course I didn't really help him. I just did his work. I was bitter about it, but looking back have to admit it was a good deal and Russel really wasn't such a bad guy. In his place I'd have done everything he did, if not more.

Once the bedroom door was closed I stood in the middle of the room and stewed in my own anger and resentment. It was one thing to lust after this girl, watch her around campus, and masturbate about her later, but a whole other thing to have her there in the next room, spread out like a whore ready for my roommate to use her as he wanted. I wanted to be the one in there with her. I sighed to myself thinking that if I was in there with her I probably wouldn't do anything. I'd be too afraid.

"You're such a fucking pussy," I whispered, balling my hand in a fist.

I flopped down on my bed and stared at the ceiling. I knew I'd never be with a girl like her. I wasn't a jock. I was a skinny, awkward geek. I didn't even really want to be with a girl like her. I just wanted to fuck her. Truthfully I wanted her to want me, but I knew that wouldn't happen, and so instead of being at parties and bringing her home I was doing homework all night and then laying in bed alone.

I opened my pants and begin playing with myself. I closed my eyes and pictured her how I saw her out there in that tight shirt and skirt, her breasts pushed together with that deep cleavage I wanted to lick, the flow of her hips and waist, her long legs and firm thighs, those ankle boots that seemed to belong on my shoulders. I imagined myself going out there, Russell having gone to his room alone, and her looking at me, sitting up straight on the couch now, watching me, and I could see the lust in her eyes, she wanted me, "I've seen you around campus," she said, "I've seen you watching me," and I just nod and smile at her, I don't say anything, and I sit next to her and she puts her leg over my leg and leans towards me, her cleavage right under my face and we kiss deeply and I touch her breasts and I touch her thigh and I can feel how she wants me.

Then I stopped jerking off and sighed to myself. "She'd never want you," I whispered, snapped out of my own fantasy. I closed my pants and stood up, letting the erection go away.

I decided to just get ready for bed. I needed to go to the bathroom but it was off of the main room so I would have to interrupt Russell and his date. I stood by my bedroom door and held my breath, listening for any noise in the outer room. I heard nothing and thought that maybe they had gone to his room. I opened the door slowly, trying to not make a noise. 

I almost closed the door again when I heard Russell sigh loudly. I looked into the room and saw him sitting on the couch, his pants and underwear pushed down his thighs with her still sitting next to him, but leaning over him, her head at his crotch. He held her head as it moved up and down over his lap. I felt the skin along my scrotum tighten and a shiver across my arms.

I ducked back in the room, hiding behind the door, my hand gripping the doorknob tightly. I stared across my room but was still seeing them on the couch, her head moving up and down rhythmically, her hair dangling down around his thighs, his hands gripping the back of her head, as if caught in an infinite loop, over and over again. I stood still, holding the door slightly ajar, hearing him groaning louder now, and wondered what to do.

Part of me was angry. I knew he would fuck her, fuck the girl I had obsessed so much about already, but seeing him doing it, doing it so flagrantly right in our living room, where he knew I could see them, knew I would definitely hear them, and him knowing I had a thing for her, and even joked with me about it, showing his arrogance as well as his lack of basic consideration to me, made me angry. I imagined myself walking in there, yelling at him, making a scene, but I knew I would never actually do that. Plus, even with that anger, I was also very aroused by it. Yes, I wanted her and had wanted her for some time, but it wasn't like I was in love with her. I had dreamt of being with her like that so many times and someone was, and right there in my living room. I had lusted after her for so long, and lust is a basic emotion, and very difficult to ignore.

I leaned forward and, worried they might have noticed me, barely peeked out around the door. Down the short hallway from my bedroom and past the front door I could see the couch against the far living room wall. They were still at it. Russel was looking down at her, seeming to lift her head up and down. She was leaning over him awkwardly, her legs spread wide, pulling at her tight skirt, one hand gripping the top of the couch, the other hand holding his knee for support.

It almost looked like he was forcing her to suck him. She was making muffled grunts and her arms were straining as if she was trying to push herself away and he was holding her head in his lap, lifting her head up just to push it back down. Then, he held her head down, almost pressing her face into his lap, and her back arched, trying to pull away, like she was gagging on him, and he just pushed his hips up a bit and groaned loudly.

"Yeah, you can take it, girl," he said.

Then, he lifted her head up all the way and she sucked in air deeply.

"Russel, take it easy," she slurred, wiping a hand across her wet mouth. "I thought I was going to throw up. I already don't feel good."

"I'm sorry, you just really turn me on," he said with a grin.

I could see why she was having trouble. His large dick stood up, erect and long, glistening from her saliva. That she hadn't thrown up from that length of penis in her mouth and throat was amazing in itself.

"Here, lay down, let me see that pussy," he said and pushed her back on the couch.

She laid down on the couch, her head on the arm rest, as he pulled her legs up onto his lap. He pushed his pants and underwear off and then lifted one leg up onto the couch to sit between her legs. She drew her knees up and spread them wide, opening her thighs for him. I couldn't help but see myself as the one sitting between her legs right then, looking down those thighs into her skirt.

I groaned and said, "Oh god." Russel started to turn his head and I quickly leaned back into my room and closed the door. I held the door closed, holding my breath, wondering if he had noticed, wondering what I should do. I reached over and flipped off the light switch and stood still in the dark, listening, wondering if I should creep back to my bed in case he checked.

Then, I heard him say something and laugh softly and figured he was too involved with her to notice me. I twisted the doorknob quietly and opened the door again, glad the light was off now, making it harder for him to see the open door and me looking out.


Russel was definitely not looking at me. He was looking intently between her legs, sliding his hands up and down her firm thighs. She sighed, her head tilted back on the arm rest with her eyes closed. He slid his hands down her thighs, pushing her skirt up as his hands slipped beneath it. He lifted her hips up a bit and then pulled her panties down her thighs, over her knees, and over one boot, leaving them dangling off her other boot. He placed his hands on her knees and pushed her legs apart.

I looked at her face and thought she would look like she was sleeping if it wasn't for the small sounds and movements she made every time he touched her. She definitely wanted him but was too out of it to do much but let him do what he wanted. I felt my stomach tremble at that thought, picturing myself having her like his, spread open before me, wanting me, and letting me have her however I wanted.

Russel pressed his hands to her inner thighs, pushing one leg against the back of the couch and the other leg wide, both her knees in the air. He lowered his head between her legs, her skirt barely pushed up enough that he could run his tongue up her pussy slowly. She sighed and squirmed, dropping her arms back over the armrest. Russel licked up and down her pussy, the tip of his tongue pressing between her labia, flicking at her clitoris. He brought his knees under his chest to kneel between her legs, placing her knees on his shoulders, her boots laying on his back, and slid his hands under her butt and lifted up slightly to dive into her pussy, licking and sucking. Her eyes closed. She moaned and moved as if she was trying to get away from him but could barely move. Her red lips parted and she gasped as he sucked her clit between his lips and flicked it repeatedly with his tongue.




The Only Way I Could Lose It



I opened the door wider and leaned out more, intently watching them, my eyes moving from watching his head moving between her firm luscious thighs on his back to her chest rising and falling, her breasts pushing hard against that tight pink shirt, her nipples sticking out hard, her smooth tanned hips barely visible with her bunched up skirt moving with his tongue and hands, and her face seemingly stuck between confusion and ecstasy. Her arms dangled from the arm rest at either side of her head, her fingers trying to grab at her long hair draped over the armrest and down the side of the couch. 

Then, Russel suddenly stopped, sat up, let her legs slide down, and sat back on the couch. He looked at her, laying there completely exposed, and stroked his already erect cock. 

"You want me now, girl?" he asked.

"No," she murmured and shook her head.

"No?" he asked with a grin. "You feel like you're ready?"

"Yes," she said and licked her lips, her eyes fluttering open before closing again.

I didn't know if she was asleep and dreaming or just too out of it to know what was going on.

Russel sat up, leaned over her, and slid his hands up her hips to her stomach, slipping under her shirt until he cupped her breasts. He laid his hips down between her legs and ground into her as he rubbed her breasts. 

"No," she whispered and shook her head slowly, even as her hips churned beneath him.

Russel grinned and then bent down to kiss her hard. Her mouth opened a bit, either forced open by his mouth or kissing him back. He put one arm under her head and kissed her deeply as he moved his hips against her, rubbing his cock against her hips and pussy, his other hand pulling at her breasts, tweaking her nipples. 

"You want it?" he said into her mouth.

She only moaned back, either a protest or acceptance, possibly neither. 

He sat back up and pulled his shirt off, making me cringe. His extremely athletic physique intimidated me and made me realize once again why it was him on the couch with her and not me. His chest, stomach, and arms looked to be chiseled out of granite, hard and bulging from his skin. Girls dreamt of running their fingers over a body like that. He picked his pants off the floor and pulled a condom wrapper out of the pocket. He ripped open the package and then rolled the condom down his cock.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her towards him, her head falling to the couch cushion, leaving her arms and hair dangling over the armrest. He pushed her legs apart, one foot falling to the floor and her other foot resting on the couch, her knee pointed in the air and pressed against the back of the couch. He climbed over her, bringing his body down to hers, his hands on either side of her, and hovered over her, his cock between her thighs pointed down and towards her. He looked down into her face, her eyes closed, lips parted and breathing deeply.

"I wasn't planning on doing this with you tonight, but damn you were just all over me," he said, surprising me. Why else would he hook up with her and bring her here if not to have sex with her?

He reached down between their bodies, holding himself over her with one muscled arm. He grabbed his cock and rubbed the tip over her pussy, between her labia, spreading her wetness. 

"No," she sighed and shook her head once slowly. She lifted one arm and pressed it weakly against his shoulder. Then she sighed and arched her back as he started rubbing the underside of his penis over her clit, stroking it back and forth, his hand holding it in place.

"I know you like that," he said, smiling to himself.

Her hand slid down his shoulder and grabbed his upper arm, feeling the muscles bulging from holding himself over her. He moved his hips back and forth slowly, rubbing against her clit, and she raised her hips up to meet him, to rub back against him. Russel moved his hand down further between her legs and she let out a soft cry when he inserted a finger into her.

"You're definitely wet and ready, girl," he said.

"No," she said again, her hips turned up towards him and her hand grabbing his arm tightly.

The couch squeaked as Russel's knees pressed into it and he scooted back, lowering his hips to hers, grabbing his penis and directing it towards her. I stared at the small space between their hips where his body seemed to already be joined to hers and looked up their bodies, her denim skirt bunched up on her hips, her chest rising and falling heavily, her shirt pushed up over her breasts, her head turned to the side. Then I looked to his face which was turned towards me, seeming to be looking right at me. I looked into his eyes and was still, my hand clutching the doorknob, wanting to slam the door shut in case he saw me, but knowing the movement would alert him. Then, he turned away from me and looked down between their bodies. If he had seen me, then he hadn't shown it.

He moved his hips forward and down, the shaft of his penis disappearing behind her hip and thigh and I could tell from his groan that he'd penetrated her. She squealed softly, a confused frown on her face, and pushed against his arm. He held the root of his cock in his fingers and moved his hips back and forth in small motions, pushing into her slowly and smoothly.

"Nooo...," she said and pushed her hand against his shoulder hard.

Russel leaned forward, forcing her to bend her arm, and then jabbed his hips forward, shoving himself into her, grunting loudly, as she whimpered and arched her back. He brought his arm up from between their bodies, grabbed her wrist, and pinned her arm down to the couch. She used her other arm to push him back and he grabbed it and pinned it down too, now holding both her hands down on either side of her head. She struggled against him weakly, arching her back, pulling at her arms. She lifted her legs, her boots knocking futily against his legs and hips. Her elbows pointed into the air as she tried to free her wrists from his hands. He held himself over her, his arms straight, his back arched, his pelvis pressed against her writhing hips. She lifted her legs up on either side of him, her thighs pressing against his waist, either trying to pull him down onto her or stop him from going further and I could see the shaft of his penis sunk into her pussy, only an inch or two still waiting to enter her, his pubic hair brushing against her. He held himself still, not moving, just holding her down, letting her push against him and struggle, her body squirming around his engorged cock.

He moaned as she bucked her hips, her boots pressed to his butt, making his cock move out of her some then sink down to its full depth. She cried out and shook her head, her eyes closed tightly, her hair whipping to the side.

"No," she said again softly, then lay still beneath him, her face turned to the back of the couch, her thighs still gripping him and her feet laying on top of his thighs.

"That's it," Russel groaned as he started moving his hips in short slow thrusts, pushing himself into her, pressing her hips down into the couch, then pulling back just enough for the couch to lift her body, then pushing down and into her again.

I watched just a couple of inches of the root of his cock moving in and out of her, her pussy seeming to cling to him, and I felt I was painfully hard and shifted my erection in my underwear and pants so it was pointing up and I could trace my finger up and down the sensitive underside of my penis through my clothes.

Russel started fucking her faster, making the old couch springs squeak loudly compressed by his thrusts then rebounding back as he raised his hips, creating a clockwork machine of squeaking springs and pumping flesh. She lay still beneath him, her hands still pinned down as he held himself over her, her face turned away, her legs still gripping his waist, seeming to urge him on, like the upper half of her body was passive to his thrusting while her lower half was coiled beneath him and around him, pulling him in to her.

My erection was so hard it strained against my clothes and I kept rubbing it harder, tracing the outline through my pants. I frantically unzipped my pants and pulled my penis out, sighing at the relief from the pressure, and encircled it with my hand, stroking and rubbing as I watched Russel intently.

He dropped a foot onto the ground, giving him leverage as he started really pumping in and out of her, lifting his body off of her and curling his hips, plowing into her in long hard thrusts, shoving her body limply back and forth on the couch. He drew his other knee up on the couch, trying to really shove into her. She made low soft grunts, barely audible to me from where I stood hiding in the doorway. With his body hunched over her, she tried to lift her arms and he shoved them back down. She squirmed one last time and then lay still beneath him, her face turned to gaze up over his head, shaking with his powerful thrusts. 

Her boots lay placidly on his hard pumping butt, her bare thighs clenching his sides and waist. I could see the length of his cock sliding from her and entering her again and again. His head was turned down, watching their bodies, watching his own toned and muscled body flexing and clenching, coiling and uncoiling as he thrust his hips back and forth, watching himself sliding in and out of her. 

I grabbed my penis in my hand and pumped it vigorously, feeling so much harder than ever before, and surprisingly hot. I stopped stroking it and just held it tightly in my fist, squeezing it until the head felt swollen to double its normal size.

"You are fuckin' hot," Russel suddenly said in a panting breath. 

He was looking down at her body laid beneath him, jostling with his strong thrusts, and he was right. She was incredibly hot. Her shirt was pushed up baring her flat stomach undulating as her hips were pushed back and forth by his thrusting hips. Her breasts rocked in firm circles inside of her shirt, her cleavage threatening to burst out of the top, her nipples poking hard through the material. Her toned legs were curled against his waist, her denim skirt bunched around her hips, and her taut butt squirming as he crashed into her again and again. 

"If it wasn't for those few beers I'd have come already," he panted and chuckled to himself.

I thought to myself that I'd have surely come already if I was him. I corrected myself knowing I would never be him. That would never be me on top of her, inside of her. I would never be that lucky.

"Whew," Russel sighed and stopped, leaving his cock halfway inside of her. He panted for breath and sat up, still holding her wrists and lifting her arms with him. Her arms were limp in his grip and she lay still beneath him, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

He sat there for a bit, looking at her, admiring his dick inside of her. He moved his hips in a couple of short quick thrusts, watching it move in and out of her. He dropped one of her arms to the side and wiped his face with his shirt sleeve. Her arm lay there limp. Then, her legs slid down, one foot falling to the floor with her knee laying to the side, and her other foot on the couch with her knee in the air against the back of the couch. Her head fell to the side, almost facing me, her eyes closed and lips parted.

Russel looked down at her, watching her. He let her other arm fall off the side of the couch limply. He grabbed her bare waist with his hands and slid them up and down the nude skin of her stomach, waist, and sides.

"You passing out on me, girl?" he asked.

There was no reply.

He slid his hands up her body and grabbed her breasts through her shirt. He fondled them and squeezed them hard. She gave no response. He slid his hands under her shirt and did the same but harder and she didn't even twitch.

"Guess you took too many of them pills," he said.

He pushed her shirt up over her breasts and they came bouncing out, making me sigh loud enough that I immediately covered my mouth with my free hand, watching Russel to see if he heard me. He didn't look to me at all, too engrossed in the site of those large, round, firm tits. His hands were cupping them underneath, barely holding them, letting their weight lay in his hands.

"Goddamn," he sighed, and I had to agree with him again. Her breasts were round and firm, two large mounds of soft flesh with small pink hard nipples.

He massaged them, one in each hand, squeezing them individually then pressing them together, getting rougher as his fingers dug into the soft flesh. He started moving his hips again, his cock entirely inside of her and just stroking deep within her, the couch sighing beneath his slow manipulations. Her nipples were soft pink protrusions on large tanned mounds, pointing up hard and rigid, and I licked my lips imagining licking them and sucking on them. As if hearing my thoughts, Russel did just that. He dove down grabbing one breast in a wide open mouth, sucking it in, then letting it go to bounce back into his hand. He did the same to the other breast, then pressed his face between them and mashed them to his face with his hands. He made some deep groans and jabbed his cock into her, breathing in the scent between those luscious breasts.

I imagined myself between those breasts like that, smelling her, licking sweat from her warm flesh, and felt my cock surge in my deathlike grip. Precum dribbled onto my fingers and I wiped my hand on my pants.

Russel suddenly sat up and grabbed her legs, lifting them up as if they weighed nothing to him. He put her boots on his shoulders and then leaned over her, putting his hands on either side of her shoulders, his hands gripping the sides of the couch cushion. Her knees fell almost to her chest and he pressed his arms in tightly, holding her legs on his shoulders. He brought both legs onto the couch and pressed his knees into the cushion, his hips now pressed down tightly to her hips and butt.

"You need a hard fucking, girl," he said and then delivered.

He started fucking her really hard. First he raised his hips up and then smashed them down hard once, adjusted his hips and legs, getting maximum penetration, then started really hammering her, pounding in and out of her, lifting almost the full length of his thick long member from her then plunging it down into her, ramming into her, slamming his hips down onto her butt. He started panting immediately at the fast pace, joined by the loud smack of his skin against hers and the loud squeaking of the rigid couch springs. His body was a tight line from shoulders to butt, straining muscles clenching and pulsing, as he lifted his hips and shoved them back down. His feet pressed against the couch arm, his knees dug into the couch cushion, searching for something to push against to push back into her.

Her body was shoved down and sprang back up again and again. Her breasts rocked and swayed. Her head shook with the rough jostling, jammed against the other couch arm, her hair spilled across her face. Her boots stuck straight up in the air over his head, the high pointed heels pointing to the ceiling. Her butt was pressed into the couch with each thrust, his hips pressed down on her tightly, her knees bouncing up and down, brushing against her breasts.

I started pumping my hard erection in a tight grip, my eyes moving from the cock plunging in and out of her, to the different parts of her body shaking with the hard fucking. I looked at her face to see if she would waken, but there was no acknowledgement of the powerful fucking her body was taking. Her eyes were closed. The only signs that she might be feeling it, and enjoying it, were the soft moans coming from her parted lips and the wetness seeping from her pussy, coating his thrusting cock.

"Fuck, you are tight, girl," he panted.

Sweat dripped from his face and onto her chest. He seemed like he was so close to coming already and trying to push himself towards it. His whole body was tensed, muscles flexing hard, slamming in and out of her at a hectic rhythm like he was pushing himself to a hard-fought orgasm. His hands gripped the sides of the couch cushion tightly, his arm muscles bulging, holding himself over her, holding them both on the couch. Her body had been shoved forward, twisting her head against the couch arm. Her boots shook and shivered in the air to the rhythm of his hard thrusting.

I stroked myself harder and faster, feeling like I had never been so hard, so hard it hurt, so hard I needed to come to relieve the pressure. I watched Russel's butt flexing and releasing as his cock plunged in and out of her, her body taking him in limply, shaking and shivering, bouncing and relaxing. I watched her tits jerking back and forth, her nipples hard and swollen. I watched her perfect ass turned up beneath him, his hips smacking into her again and again. I watched her legs bent to her chest and laying on his shoulders firm and tense, locked against his body with his straining arms. I took it all in, the sounds of his panting, the slapping of their skin, the couch protesting, the squeaking now joined by a creaking of wood bending and flexing. Just as my stroking reached its inevitable climax my eyes were drawn to the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her, the head almost coming into view before descending deep into her, entirely inside of her, his hips crashing into her, and then being drawn out of her again, her pussy clinging to it, and my body stiffened as I came, gripping the head tightly and jerking the sensitive skin underneath, ejaculating my semen onto the wall and doorframe in front of me. I tried to stifle my grunts as my vision went blurry, still watching him moving in and out of her, jerking my come out of me, spurt after spurt. I had never ejaculated so hard and felt my legs go rubbery and limp and placed my other hand against the doorframe to keep my balance, still forcing myself to watch them and jerking on my spasming cock.

By the time I had spent my last and was feeling depleted but stable, Russel grunted and snapped his hips hard.

"Here it comes, girl," he yelled.

He fucked her faster and harder for several strokes, then threw his head back and cried out as his orgasm finally flooded over him. His hips snapped forward and back in hard jerks, smacking skin against skin, still moving in those long thrusts, pulling far out of her then jamming into her as he spilled his seed into the condom. His arms shuddered and shook, the biceps bulging, veins popping out, then he collapsed onto her, his arms wrapping around her legs, letting them slide to his sides, but holding them up against his side, his head falling beside hers, as he jammed into her in short hard jabs, his butt clenching and unclenching, shoving himself as deep into her as he could. Eventually his thrusting slowed then stopped all together as he lay panting on top of her, her feet in the air, her arm laying limply off the couch, still passed out beneath him.

I quietly turned away from the door and grabbed a bath towel out of the closet. I wiped off my hand and flaccid cock, then wiped off the door jam and wall in the dark, hoping I was cleaning up my mess, watching Russel through the partially open door. When I closed the door he was still laying on top of her, grinding his hips in slow circles, regaining his breath.

I took off all of my clothes, put on a pair of fresh underwear and a t-shirt, and climbed into bed. I lay there wide awake staring at the ceiling, picturing the scene I had just watched, watching it again and again in my mind until I finally fell asleep.

Eventually I woke up from a fitful sleep. It was still dark. I had an erection and really needed to urinate. I lay there for a while, considering if I should masturbate to relieve myself of the erection, my mind still flooded with images of Russel pounding her passed out body. But I decided I couldn't wait and had to go to the bathroom. 




The Only Way I Could Lose It



I got out of bed and as I was opening the door I stopped, wondering if they were both still out there. Maybe he would even be fucking her again. I stood still, holding the doorknob, and listened intently. I didn't hear anything. Maybe he had fallen asleep on the couch, his dick still in her. I shivered at the thought of how wonderful that would feel.

I carefully opened the door enough to look into the living room. All of the lights were turned off with only the light from the street lamp outside shining through the living room window with blinds and curtains still open. It was enough light to see that Russel was no longer there, but she was. His bedroom door was across from mine and I could see it was closed with no light coming through the cracks. I opened the door, stepped in the short hallway and into the living room. 

I looked closely at her laying on the couch. He had repositioned her, lifting her up to a mostly sitting position, laying against the  couch arm, her head leaning back against the back of the couch, one foot on the floor, the other foot stretched out on the couch, like she had laid back then stretched out some and fallen asleep there naturally. Her clothes were pulled back down, her breasts covered, her skirt pulled down as far as it could go, but still just barely covering her butt. With a bit more light I'd have been able to see right up her skirt.

I cringed and grabbed my erection as I felt my bladder pushing for release. I crept along the living room wall across from her to the bathroom, entered and closed the door quietly behind me. I turned the light on, pulled my penis from the underwear, and stood before the toilet. Both my penis and bladder were aching. I groaned and shuffled my feet, wanting the damn erection to go away. I pushed it down, pointing at the toilet and closed my eyes, trying to not think about what had happened earlier in the night. I flicked the head a couple of times and cringed. Finally it softened a bit and a flood of urine came out. I pointed it down to the toilet, leaned over, and sighed with relief.

When I finally finished, I flushed the toilet, then stiffened as I wondered if I woke her. I turned off the light and stood in the dark, waiting for the toilet tank to fill. When it was done I carefully opened the door and looked into the living room. I let my eyes adjust to the darker room, searching intently for her on the couch. I saw she hadn't changed position and seemed to not have budged at all. I moved closer watching her chest and stomach rising with her breath. She was still passed out.

I stood there in front of her, watching her breathe, watching her breasts held tightly by that pink shirt, her deep cleavage rising and falling. Automatically my hand moved to my penis. It slipped out of my underwear and I stood there stroking it and watching her. My eyes moved from her chest to her tanned, smooth, bare stomach, then down the denim skirt to her firm thighs, spread wide, the one leg laying to the side, the other stretched out on the couch, then down to the ankle boots, and I remembered how they were pointed to the ceiling earlier in the night.

I stared at her, I stroked myself, and I wondered just how passed out she was. I clenched my jaw as the thought entered my mind, but as soon as it was there I knew I didn't have a choice. I was too aroused, my mind soaked with the thoughts and feelings of that evening. I knew I'd never have a chance with her, she'd never talk to me. There's no other way I could ever be inside of that body. There was only this way. Later, I'd wonder how I made my mind up so quickly, how I moved into action with barely a thought and I know I only did what I did because I didn't think about it, and let my dick lead me there. If I hadn't watched Russel fuck her earlier, if I hadn't been so fucking horny already, if I hadn't been so socially pathetic, I wouldn't have touched her. But there she was, completely passed out, and there I was hard and ready. 

I moved toward her and dropped to my knees in front of her. I looked into her sleeping face and leaned closer, looking into her sleeping eyes.

"Are you alright?" I said loudly, trying to make it seem I wish just checking on her if she should waken.

She didn't budge, didn't even break the rhythm of her deep sleep breathing.

I took a chance and touched her face, cupping her chin in my hand. I shook her head and said it again, louder this time, directly into her ear. I sat back to look at her face, still holding her chin, thrilled at the fact that I was actually touching her at all. Her breathing changed for a moment, then she was breathing deeply in sleep again. I kept holding her chin, looking at her face, then turned her head to the side. I inspected her face, turning it from side to side, my eyes taking in every detail, every freckle, every blemish, how her makeup had worn during the night, how her hair curled around her ears, the shadow her jaw line cast on her neck. 

As I did this I began to feel powerful. I was holding her face in my hand and looking at her more intently than probably anyone else ever had and she didn't know it and could do nothing about it. She was literally in the palm of my hand. I felt a shudder of pleasure course down my spine and into my erection, making it jump, and I leaned forward to kiss her deeply, pressing my lips to hers, pushing them apart with my mouth, then pushing my tongue into her mouth. I brought my other hand to her neck and turned her head to me, pressing my mouth to hers hard. I kissed her until I was panting for breath, feeling my body warm and electric in a way I had never felt, the feeling of taking what I wanted, having it as I wanted. 

I broke the kiss, sat back, and looked at her, my hands moving to the back of her head, holding her to look into her face directly. She was still passed out, breathing deeply, but now her mouth was wet and red. I smiled. That had been my first kiss. And it had been wonderful. 

I wanted another.

With the next one I was even less careful. I leaned in, slipped my left arm between her body and the couch arm then around her bare back, pulling her to me, lifting her head from the couch and tilting it back, lengthening her neck, and I had to stretch up to meet her lips, and I kissed her deeply. I grabbed her breast with my right hand, causing my body to squirm as I kneaded and massaged it. Her large firm flesh filled my grasping hand and I started grinding my erection against the couch. I inhaled the scent of her perfume, hair, and skin as I kissed her, my eyes open, looking into her face, her closed eyes, an earring dangling from her left ear, her hair spinning to her shoulders. I groaned as I hefted her breast in my hand through the fabric of her shirt, feeling her nipple through the material in my palm and squeezed it feeling how the flesh of her breast squished between my fingers. My body shivered as I rubbed myself on the couch and I felt I could come right there, grinding against the couch as I kissed her and felt her up. But I didn't want that. This was my chance, my only chance.

I pulled back reluctantly and looked at how her body was too awkwardly positioned on the couch to fuck her like that. I was too weak to lift her up and position her how I wanted. But I figured I could at least pull her to the edge of the couch. I touched her left leg stretched out on the couch and felt my body shiver again. I was touching the bare flesh of her thigh. I wrapped both hands around her thigh and pulled it slowly to the edge of the couch until her foot fell off the edge. I pushed my body between her knees at the edge of the couch and slid my hands up her thighs, feeling my skin break out in goose bumps at the thrill of touching her like that. I slid my hands over her skirt to her waist, grabbed her firmly, and pulled her slowly to the edge. She didn't move at first and I sat back to pull harder, then her butt slid forward with a jerk. I let go and started to run away, thinking it would wake her, but she didn't make a sound. 

Her body was slumped back, now resting more on the back of the couch, but tilted and leaning on the couch arm. I moved in again, my eyes on her face for any notion she was waking, grabbed her hips, and pulled her forward again. She slid easier this time, her skirt bunching as she came forward, until her butt reached the edge of the couch. Her upper body slid down the back of the couch until she was slouching deeply, twisted and leaning toward the couch arm, looking very uncomfortable. I worried laying like that would waken her so I grabbed her shoulders and shifted her to the side so her back was laying on the couch seat cushion with her head on the couch back. 

I sat back on my heels, my legs beneath me, and looked at her, breathing a bit hard from that bit of exertion. I looked up her legs to the space between her thighs, shadowed by her skirt. My testicles tingled as I looked at the pink panties that Russel must have put back on. Licking my lips I reached both hands up beneath her skirt, pushing it up further, exposing the full length of her thighs, grabbed her panties and pulled them down her legs. I scooted back as I pulled them down her legs. My stomach was in tight knots as I watched those perfect pink panties sliding down her legs, stretching as I got to her feet, then pulling them off one foot then the other, and I dropped them on the floor. 

I sat up on my knees between her legs and slid my hands back up her firm thighs. My cock was sticking out hard over the couch and I pushed it against her crotch. My body shuddered at being so close to her, my penis erect and so close to her pussy. I couldn't wait any longer. As much as I wanted to bask in that feeling I was already so excited I felt I could come just sitting there touching her, and I wanted to be inside of her. I needed it.

Quickly I shoved my underwear over my erection and down my thighs and then pressed my body forward, one hand grabbing my shaft, the other searching for her pussy. I trembled again when I found her opening, felt how wet and warm she was. My fingertip slipped into her easily. Too excited to even be concerned if I would wake her I looked down between her legs, aimed my cock head to her opening, and pushed forward.

I groaned loudly as the head slipped into her easily. I pushed my hips forward, leading my dick by its shaft, sinking into her. I shook at the feeling of her body circling my penis as it slid into her, waves of shivers slithering across my body emanating from my groin. I laid my hands each on one of her thighs and started pumping in and out of her. My back bent with the pleasure of it so I was crouched over her. Through bleary eyes I looked at her laying still on the couch, her face turned away from me, eyes closed, lips parted, her chest rising and falling in deep sleeping breaths, her breasts so round and full stretching her pink shirt, her flat stomach following her breaths, belly button ring glittering, her skirt pushed up, her lovely thighs, and the triangle between them where my penis was sliding in and out. I panted, feeling lightheaded and overwhelmed. I was inside of her. I was fucking her. I never thought this would happen. Never. A low high laugh came from my lips. It was incredible.

I wanted this to last. I didn't want to stop. But it felt too good. I was too excited. My body shook, then tightened and I felt it like a small explosion in my head and penis simultaneously and I was coming inside of her before I even knew it. Any rational part of my brain was shut off and I was just an ejaculating cock, spewing into her passed out body. I hunched over her, still looking down at her, seeing my own body spasming between her thighs, her pussy spread open around my shaft, my hands gripping her hips, and I jerked inside of her, feeling like the semen was pumping out of me in large hot spurts, bursting from the tip of my penis and flooding into her. I had no control over my body as it shook and sputtered. I just dug my fingers into her hips and held on, letting the semen spurt out of me and into her.

After a time that was probably only a few seconds but felt so much longer I grunted loudly and fell forward onto her, my head laying on her shoulder. I lay still, breathing heavily, my head feeling an odd combination of light and headachy from the flood of chemicals that had just coursed through my brain. I felt some semen leaking from me and into her in a slow dribble. I pushed my arms between her back and the couch and held onto her, nuzzling her bare shoulder and neck, as I recovered. 

She felt so large to me as I lay there, inside of her, over her, holding her. Not that she was a large woman, curvy definitely, but not large, it was just she felt so solid and real. I had imagined so many times what it would be like to be with a woman, and specifically what it would feel like to be with her, but in the flesh, there was just so much of her laying beneath me, so much in between my arms, so physically real. I clung to her. I inhaled the scent of her. I kissed her neck softly. I pressed my hips to her tightly. 

With the orgasm having passed I felt more relaxed than I had felt in a long time, possibly ever. A feeling of belonging swelled inside me, a warm comfort that glowed in my stomach and spread to my chest. I sighed deeply, my eyes closed, her hair tickling my face.

My life is full of anxiety and paranoia. I constantly feel I'm being watched and judged unfit for everything I do, think, want, feel. But for those few moments I felt none of that. It was probably just the effect of the high from the orgasm from my first sexual experience, an intense one at that, but at the time I just felt... right.

My penis was shrinking inside of her and I pressed my hips to her tighter not wanting to slip from her, wanting to keep that connection to her, that feeling of being surrounded by her. I pulled my hands from around her and slid them up and down her sides, just to feel the physicality of her body, the solidity of her, the softness of her. I kissed her neck once more and pressed my nose to her skin, inhaling her deeply, then pushed myself up and looked down at her.

Her head was tilted to the side, her eyes closed, her mouth open, breathing deeply in her passed out sleep. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful. I slid my hands up and down her sides, feeling the curves of her body, the swell of her hips and waist, curving into her tight waist, then up her sides to her full luscious bust. There's nothing like the curves of a full-bodied woman. The only thing better is having that woman unconscious beneath you to indulge yourself in those curves and her flesh.

I slipped my hands under the sides of her shirt, feeling the smooth warm skin beneath. I lifted her shirt up from her body then pushed it up over her breasts. I stared at them for a moment, rolling her shirt up higher and under her arms, marveling at how firm, how full, how large they were. I don't know anything about bust size or cup size. I only know that when I finally touched her breasts they overfilled my hands. I held each breast firmly in a hand and lifted them, feeling the weight of them. I wonder how a woman with such large heavy breasts like that could carry them around all day. 

I played with her breasts, moving my hands around, grabbing them from different angles, feeling how my fingers sank into the flesh, how her breasts sprang back however I manipulated them. I brushed her nipples, I tweaked them, I felt them get harder as I played with them. I pinched them and she sighed. I held them in my fingers, pinching them, looking at her face, her mouth open, seeming to be breathing harder, her tongue now pushing against her lower lip. Was she actually feeling this in her sleep and enjoying it? I didn't know, but I hoped so. I hoped that somewhere deep in her subconscious mind she was experiencing intensely erotic feelings, something close to what I was feeling.

I pushed her breasts together, leaned forward, and pressed my face between them, well, not so much between them as into both of them, smushing my face into both breasts as I pressed them together. I luxuriated in the feel of that luscious smooth flesh against my face. I inhaled her deeply. I touched my tongue to her skin and tasted her. I felt I could lose myself there and I would have been fine with that. I moved my face side to side, smelling her, licking her, pressing my lips to her. My hands pressed and released, massaging her breasts against my face. 

At some point I had started moving my hips slowly and I was hard inside of her again, or mostly hard, hard enough to move back and forth in her slowly. My body was responding and acting by itself.

I turned my face to the side and pushed the side of her breast into my mouth. I sucked on the skin, released it, then placed kisses on her breast to her nipple. I licked around her nipple, kissed around it, opened my mouth and pressed my lips around her nipple, licking it, then sucked it softly between my lips. She sighed again and I rocked my hips forward, feeling myself hardening, feeling my penis pushing into her deeper. Her nipple still in my mouth I looked up at her face. Her head was turned further to the side like she had pressed herself into the couch and her mouth was open wider, her tongue slightly protruding past her lips. I pushed her breast up into my mouth and sucked it in further, keeping my lips pressed to my teeth so I wouldn't drag her skin across them. 

I suckled at her breast, pulling it into my mouth, licking her nipple, then letting it slide out, my hand holding it in my mouth, feeding her breast to me, my other hand massaging her other breast, lifting it and lowering it, brushing her nipple, while I slid my cock in and out of her in slow long strokes, now completely hard again. I was surprised at having gotten hard again, though I had never gone completely soft, nestled inside of her, and there I was fucking her again. I had come so quick the first time it was a beautiful pleasure to be doing it again so soon after. It's not like there would ever be another chance for this.

I moved my mouth to the other breast and devoured it, opening my mouth wide to suck it in, the feel of her firm fat flesh in my mouth and against my lips so thrilling I plunged into her deeply, jamming my pelvis against her and pushing up, trying to bury myself into her to the hilt. I closed my eyes and savored the feel of her breast in my mouth, her breasts in my hands, her pussy around my sliding cock, her body beneath me, open to me. 

As my arousal built I began thrusting faster, luxuriating in the feel of my cock sliding from her as much as back into her, how she encased me entirely. I let her breast fall from my mouth and cupped it in my hand, pushing her nipple out and sucked it and kissed it. I could hear soft moans coming from her open mouth, increasing my excitement. She was much more wet this time, maybe from her own arousal and definitely from my own semen, and I slid in and out of her so easily, yet she held me so tightly, each time having to push into her, but she gave way and parted for me, letting me slip into her smoothly. 

I let her nipple fall from my lips as my pace quickened and breathing increased. I closed my eyes and pressed the side of my face to her breasts, pushing them against me. I could feel her body moving beneath me from my thrusts, her breasts rocked back and forth against my face as I pressed my hips against her, pushing her body forward, then pulled back, her body relaxing back. I could feel the warmth of my own breath on my face from her breasts and snuggled my head in further, wanting to bury my head between her breasts as my cock was buried in her pussy. I wanted to wrap her body around me, to disappear totally inside of her. I needed to be deeper inside of her.




The Only Way I Could Lose It



I removed my hands from her breasts, sighing as they relaxed from my face, and moved my head down to press the side of my face into them. I slid my hands down the side of her body, along her graceful curves, over her waist and butt, to her thighs. I grabbed the underside of her thighs and lifted them, sliding my arms underneath until I was holding her thighs in my armpits. This turned her hips up towards me and I scooted my knees closer, pressing my thighs against the couch and her butt, and I plunged deep inside of her, groaning ecstatically against her chest.

I pounded down and into her, feeling her legs rubbing against my sides and butt, her boots knocking against my thighs. I shoved my hips forward hard each time, desperate to plunge deeper into her, deeper than I possibly could, but urging myself all the same. I didn't want there to be a bottom to his. I moved my head to the side to press against her left breast, feeling her nipple on my cheek, my back and neck arching as I curled my hips, thrusting into her.

I became frustrated. I was going to come again and I wasn't in deep enough, it just wasn't enough. I sat up, reluctantly pulling my face from her breasts. I laid her legs down and then slid my hands underneath them from the inside and lifted them, cradling her legs in my arms. I hoisted her legs in my arms and leaned forward, lifting my knees from the floor, pressing my toes into the ground. I laid down on her, pushing her knees to her chest on either side of her, bending her in half, my body now mostly on top of her, and began thrusting into her in deep, short jittering thrusts. I could barely hold myself like that, my feet slid on the carpet and I had to pull them back again and again, pushing back to shove into her hard.

I dipped my head down to her chest again, bending my back awkwardly, but needing that contact, plunging my face into her breasts so far that I could barely breathe as I panted and strained. I wrapped my arms around her thighs and knees, holding them down to the couch. I jammed my penis deep into her, as deep as I could possibly go, wriggling my hips and butt, getting full contact between out bodies so there was no space between us, just twisting my hips again and again, jabbing into her. I groaned against her chest at how deep I was, feeling I was plunging into her depths, feeling her body around me, her legs beside me, her breasts surrounding my face, I was finally lost inside of her.

I felt my cock expanding, widening, the head stretching to plunge into her, and then my body tightened and I cried out against her breasts, my open mouth sucking at her skin, as I came again, a pulsating stream of semen flowing from me and into her, feeling like one long stream was streaming into her, broken only momentarily each time I pulled back just a bit to jam into her again, surging into her from one large explosion that engulfed my body, my muscles tight and focused on emptying my come into her. My hips crunched and jerked, grinding against her pelvis. My toes dug into the carpet, pushing me forward and into her. I moaned into her breasts, my eyes closed tightly, feeling only our bodies together, pressed together, and joined.

A large spasm shook my body and my feet slid back. I fell to my knees, letting her legs fall to the couch and her feet to the floor. I slid my hands up her side and wrapped my arms around her back. I held onto her tightly and pressed my face into her chest, nuzzling into her, as I moved my hips slowly, feeling the last of my come trickle out of me and into her. I lay there for a while, breathing heavily, my eyes closed, just basking in the feel of her body, feeling completely depleted, drained, alive, and comforted. I don't know when I finally would have moved if I hadn't suddenly heard Russel.

"Congrats, you broke your cherry," Russel said loudly.

I jerked my head up and saw him standing by the couch just outside of his bedroom doorway. I pulled myself off of her, my sticky partially hard cock slipping out of her. I stood up and stumbled as I tried to yank up my underwear and my tired legs wobbled.


Russel laughed, his arms crossed at his chest.

"Calm down," he said, walking towards me.

"I...," I started, but didn't know what to say. 

I shoved my slick penis into my underwear and backed away, my head down, feeling ashamed of myself for getting caught.

"It's fine," he said and patted my shoulder. "I brought her home for you, buddy."

I was too confused to say anything. I looked up at him, at his big grin, not a mocking grin, but seemingly proud, then looked at her, laying on the couch still passed out, her legs spread. A stream of semen leaked from her pussy and into a small puddle on the couch.

"Next time use a condom, though," he said, looking at her too. "You need to be more careful, man. You're smart. You know that."

I nodded.

"Well, remember that next time," he said.

"Okay," I said, reveling in the thought that there could be a next time.

Russel then helped me get her clothes back on neatly and put her back up on the couch after I did my best to clean my semen from her and the couch. As we did that he told me that he had brought her home for me. He wanted to thank me for all the work I did for him and helped him out. He knew I had a thing for her. He had been the one who gave her friend the pills that she eventually took, knowing she wouldn't take pills he gave to her. He had worried that she took more than one, but said after the fucking I had given her it was good she had. He said that he hadn't planned on fucking her too, but that she was too hot to pass up. He hadn't been sure how to let me know he had brought here there for me and just left her on the couch, hoping that me seeing him fucking her wouldn't stop me. In fact, it was watching him that had motivated me to do it. 

We worried she would wake up sore and knowing she'd been raped, but she didn't waken until after noon and said nothing about it, even to Russel when he took her home. There were no repercussions for what we had done.

I was thankful for Russel for that experience. I was never angry about doing his work again. He even seemed to be a bit nicer to me, though maybe I wasn't so sensitive about him joking with me. We actually became friends. In fact, he was the best friend I ever had.



The Only Way to Fly



She had months ago learned why astronauts, dressed in their bulky white suits and helmets, waddled clumsily rather than walked like other people. The suit's plumbing made normal walking an impossible task. Astronaut Tori Nicole Anson half shuffled, half waddled from the suit room into the hallway. 

She smiled inside her closed visor at all the people assembled to wish her and her partner well. It was a false front, however. She still bristled from the biomedical exam and the difficult procedure of suiting up in this seemingly ill-fitting spacesuit and helmet. 

The pregnancy test had come first. She was expected to pee on command as if she were a trained animal. Next, the speculum was freezing and without sympathy. The stethoscope between her bare breasts and on her back was equally frigid. 

Even worse, the good doctor managed to cup one of her exposed breasts and cop a feel as he listened with an outward expression of professional concern.  These were almost rendered trifling in comparison to what followed.

The process of suiting up to spend the next three days in a cramped space capsule had, from the beginning of her training, been a bone of contention with Tori. She hated wearing the ungainly white suits and their attending helmets.

The interior components of the suits bothered her most. Since she was going to be wearing one for nearly seventy-two hours, it was outfitted with special apparatus to accommodate her most intimate functions. Chocolate and Premysyn, Tori told herself, only large quantities of both can save me, now. During the eight months of training, she had resorted to ingesting profuse amounts of both as capriciously as any teen-ager with PMS might.

The suiting up procedure began with two female Technicians helping Tori wiggle into what could best be described as snug fitting Capri pants. In reality, this lower body garment was constructed of soft but thick insulating material, honey combed with narrow flex tubing. The tubes carried water that could be heated or cooled as the wearer wished. There was an upper body garment, also. The most startling feature of the "pants" was the complete lack of a crotch. They were split from back to front to accommodate the special plumbing. Once the under garment was on, Tori lay back on an examining table for the next step. She was nude from the waist up but hardly worried over that. The Techs, hands gloved, applied a large handful of cold, gooey sanitary gel to her anus.

Once they were satisfied with the amount and coverage, the Techs fixed the rubbery mouth of a Fecal Collection Device to Tori's opening. This required the Techs to spread her butt cheeks somewhat to accommodate the apparatus. Tori unsuccessfully repressed a grimace as the unit was attached to her body. The characteristics of the bio sanitizing gel required a Tech to hold it in place for an agonizing length of time. When it was almost too much to endure, the Tech smiled and commented, "That much is over with."

The FCD was nothing more than an accordion pleated heavy gauge plastic bag with a wide lipped mouth that was gel glued to one's anus. It may come to pass that Tori would be forced to live in her sealed space suit for longer than was planned. The twenty-seven year old Astronaut hissed in reply to the Tech's words. She knew this was far from over. This was the reason for the crotch-less under garment. The next waste management device was to be connected to the other more intimate opening between her legs. Tori closed her eyes tight and swore, "Crap."

"No, Tori." The Tech half laughed, "That was what the first one was for. This one is for Number Onesy, Dear." Tori screwed up her face once more before closing her eyes and reclining, again. She lay supine on the table as her outer lips were gel coated and her Urine Collection Device was put into place. She had opposed the doctor's advice to shave the dark blonde rectangular patch of pubic fur and now that bit of femininity, normally reserved for only intimate acquaintances, was being rubbed with sanitizing goop by a co worker. Tori despised this apparatus as much as the FCD. 

The soft, close fitting, quasi-elliptical mouth of the UCD had a small opening in the center from which a small tube ran into a pouch in the leg of her space suit. Attached to the collection pouch was a small vacuum pump that sucked her liquid wastes into the pouch. All the female astronauts had a certain uncomfortable relationship with this creation. During training, Tori had tried not to use these collection appliances but there were a few times when that wasn't possible. The UCD pump kicked in automatically when the wearer used the unit. The initial suction made keeping one's outward composure almost impossible. She couldn't stop her mouth from making a slight "O" shape and the capsule camera never failed to zoom in on her face at those delicate personal episodes. The feeling was undeniably arousing and she had forced herself to focus on the instrument panels of the capsule to retain her train of thought. 

"Oh what a feeling, eh?" MEDCOM would sometimes whisper when she was emptying her bladder. "You should see what you're feeling, Tori." She initially wanted to fight her way from the capsule and beat the living Hell out of the human behind the voice in her helmet. It took almost all her self-control to restrain herself. After a few incidents, however, she changed her thinking and would snap back, "Yeah. You wish you were the guy making me feel this good, too. Prick!" 

Her partner, Asa Dick, would applaud and in a feigned Oh so droll upper class English accent quip: "Well played, Mum. Well played, indeed." She would laugh and punch him in the arm with a derisive growl. This would lead to short breaks in the training for horseplay and unashamed sexual suggestion. The thought of Asa brought a sudden smile to Tori's face. Over the course of their months of training, she had come to the decision it would be nice, very nice, to share a bed with him. He was always positive minded and had showed no hint of temper even during the most grueling test sessions. Tori hid a pang of disappointment behind her secret smile. Earlier that morning, hours before she would have been woken by her back up, she lay awake in her bed wishing she were lying with Asa making love. She had passed a difficult few moments restraining herself from simply walking across the hall to his room and climbing in bed with him. 

It would have been easy enough, she told herself. Just a few quick, silent steps across the hall and she could have slipped into bed with Asa and held him close. A sudden cold gloved hand sliding across her outer lips caused her to jerk involuntarily. The Tech, possibly sensing her thoughts, apologized in a near whisper. Tori shook her head and tried to concentrate on the day ahead. This was mankind's next great space voyage. Tori and Asa were to be the first Humans to set foot on the planet Mars. She focused on keeping her breathing steady and measured. It wasn't as easy as she had wished. Her inner spaces were a riot of confused feelings. She was excited and anxious and at the same time full of apprehension. She felt so tremendously privileged and somewhat reluctant. This would undoubtedly be the greatest episode of her life but it also left her almost afraid. 

This endeavor had already made her a multi millionaire. She and Asa were not NASA astronauts but employees of ARES Corporation. They were the first wave of an exploratory invasion of sixteen astronauts, all ARES corporation employees. NASA simply had offered technical assistance and advice for this flight. ARES Corp. had bought and built everything on speculation a manned Mars mission would be tremendously profitable. Among The sixteen other astronauts were former NASA members but Tori and Asa would be the first humans to stand on Mars and they were private sector employees. 

Their job was as much a profit-seeking venture as it was scientific. She and Asa, however, were primarily engineering support for the mission once humans landed. On Mars waiting for them were two robotic fuel manufacturing units diligently processing fuel for the entire expedition. They had successfully landed almost ten months previously and were examining Martian raw materials for the number one necessary building block of the fuel they would need to return to Earth. Water. ARES Corporation scientists had been seeing indications from the two robotic fuel processors that there were promising indications of water, most likely ice, not too far below the surface of Mars. They had recently received reports both units were actually processing frozen water and Hydrogen they had stored on board to make small amounts of fuel.

It all seemed a bit confusing to Tori and Asa. At one point, less than a month before launch, they had tried to draw a friendly line in the sand on the issue. They had asked to see the raw data from the two robotic fuel-manufacturing units. The data seemed ambiguous and ARES Corporation scientists and engineers assured them it was due to the fact both units were mobile and their constant slow crawling across the Martian surface was causing slight interference with communications. The raw data was, to quote an engineer, shaken and scrambled in transit but everyone was confident the results were positive. Tori hadn't realized her smile was turning to a frown as she lay on the table.

"Okay Tori," one of the Techs spoke calmly. "We're finished on this end. Now let's get those bio sensors on your chest, Dear." These sensors transmitted her respiration and heart performance to MEDCOM for evaluation. Several weeks before, more than slightly drunk, at a party she had sarcastically wisecracked: "They tell the ground apes when we're dead."

Thinking of that night, she regretted the remark. She further regretted she had watched Asa disappear with some young woman. The rest of the evening she concentrated on trying to drink as much as possible. What a stupid thing to do, she chided herself. The Press was still having a field day with that performance. There was ample video of her puking in the bushes like some dumb ass college coed. If the evening had only ended there, she would have been able to put it behind her but the vomiting in view of a news cameraman had been just the opening act. Tori had gone on to playfully spin the female reporter who was with the cameraman into the pool…also in full view of the camera. She then wobbled away muttering, "Silly Cow…stupid…stupid…really stupid!"

The media at large mistakenly believed she was referring to the Reporter floundering in the pool. Tori had been commenting about herself. She had spent the time since that night clumsily trying to set the record straight. The fact the Reporter had gone into the pool meant very little to her. An unexpected dip rarely hurt anyone, Tori believed. She had tried to explain that She, Tori, felt stupid for being drunk, for puking and…for letting Asa just walk out with someone else. The woman in question, hardly more than twenty if Tori were any expert, was obviously just a one-night fuck to Asa. The nickname "ADICK" hadn't been hung on him without good reason. Tori had, at that moment, wanted to have been the woman Asa was guiding out of the party for a private get together at her place, no doubt. She stifled a smile, realizing she still wanted to be that woman. 

The Techs wiped her breasts and the surrounding area with sterile alcohol cleaning pads and then painted her with a yellow tinged liquid that would hold the biosensors in place. She almost smiled again, imagining herself flashing her yellow painted chest at Asa in space. It would be nice to be so unencumbered, she fantasized briefly, in the micro gravity of the Command Module. Unfortunately, the plan called for the entire flight up to the Mars Transporter, Ares Endeavor, to be made wearing the suits. The Ares Module Taxi had not been human tested and the general consensus among all the engineers was to be safe and leave the bulky spacesuits on as much as possible. 

During the nearly three day ferry flight, she was allotted only two occasions to actually shed the suit for hygienic duties. Bathing in the capsule consisted of wiping one's body all over with large sheets impregnated with a special cleaning solution. Hair washing was handled in a similar fashion. An astronaut rubbed their hair vigorously with the appropriate cleansing sheet and then let the hair dry on its own. Of course, stripping off the suit required assistance from the other astronaut in the capsule, which meant they would no doubt be exposing themselves to each other to some degree. 

It had already happened during their training. During their medical training, they had allowed each other to strip off their suits in order to gain access for the administration of First Aid. Tori showed him hers and Asa had shown her his. It was all purely medical training, Girl. She was thankful for those sessions because it gave Asa a chance to check her out and form some ideas for the long journey ahead of them. 

That eventuality had been quietly discussed with the staff in the MEDCOM section. Ortho-Tricyclene was unceremoniously and without comment slipped into her "Personal" compilation of necessary items along with a vial containing the "Morning After" abortion pills. She had been using the Ortho-Tricyclene for nearly six months and apart from increasing her desire for sex slightly, she was side effect free. The other women on the Mars team were also encouraged to use birth control presumably to regulate their monthly cycles. There were five other women making the flight to Mars behind her and she sometimes wondered how they would relate with their male counter parts during the nine-month flight to Mars and the additional eighteen months on the planet. She was betting there would be some sort of relationships formed. The official Ares Corporation policy regarding this subject was non-existent. They did their corporate best to look the other way. 

A team of Psychologists from NASA had talked ambiguously, at first, about sexual relations and the tensions such relationships generated early in the training. With each session, they became a bit more graphic in their tone. After the third session, Tori decided she didn't need a lecture on dating morals and sexual dos and don'ts from anyone. It was the last session she attended. The Press had been successfully kept in the dark regarding the whole affair. There had been much speculation in the Media about the Outer Space Soap Opera that may develop. Piss on 'em.  Tori hoped her fellow team members of both genders had adopted the same philosophy. 

There was a modified Golf cart in the hallway waiting to shuttle the two Astronauts to the Crew van. Asa stood beside it and waved her to sit first saying, "After you, Kid." 

She smiled and nodded and almost hopped on without first giving thought to her suit and its idiosyncrasies. She stopped short and carefully lowered herself on to the rear seat before readjusting the O-2 hoses trailing from the front to her personal portable Life Support Unit. Asa sat next to her and they waved for the cameras flashing all about them. They flashed repeated thumbs up signs as they were driven down the long white hallway. Tori punched Asa's arm and quipped, "This is it, Asa. We're on our way."