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The Lie

By: sawandsword



"I'm pregnant."

The statement stopped him dead in his tracks. Gerald Graham stared at his girlfriend in disbelief. "Are you sure?"

Teresa Jones nodded. "I was worried after you came in me, so I took a home pregnancy test this morning."

Gerald felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach. "How could this happen?" 

Teresa lowered her gaze, and acted frightened. "You know how it happened," she replied. "We had unprotected sex last week, and now I'm pregnant."

"Yeah, but I only came in you one time."

Teresa gazed into Gerald's eyes. "It only takes one time."

Gerald ran his right hand through his short dark hair as he thought about the ramifications of this revelation. All of his future plans of becoming a Congressman once he finished law school and interned in his Father's law firm began to fade before him.

The voters would never elect someone who had knocked a girl up out of wedlock. 

* * * * 

Gerald and Teresa started dating during Gerald's senior year in college.

Teresa was a waitress at a restaurant near campus. At nineteen she was a beauty. She had long blond hair that cascaded down her upper back. Her face had that girl next door quality that drove most men crazy. Her body was shapely, and her legs were long, and sexy.

Gerald met her one day after class when he stopped by to grab a bite to eat. The moment he laid eyes on her, he knew he had to have her.

Of course, marriage would be out of the question.

Gerald is from a prominent family, whereas Teresa is the Daughter of a janitor, and a secretary. She has one Brother named Sam, who is a year younger than her. 

Sam works on Campus as a gardener, and lives in an apartment complex across the street.

Gerald knew Teresa would be perfect for him during his college years. He could have some fun with her, and then after graduation, he could move back home, and Marry Melissa Pearson.

Melissa is the perfect woman for a Congressman to marry. She is the Daughter of a prominent attorney. She is beautiful, and has a quality that voters like.

Gerald and Teresa began dating a few days after they met.

Teresa quickly fell madly in love with Gerald. She began to imagine herself as Mrs. Gerald Graham.

Gerald, on the other hand, seemed only interested in sex. Every Friday night he would take her out to a nightclub on the other side of town, where they would dance and drink.

They would then return to her apartment and spend the rest of the weekend having wild abandoned sex.

Gerald kept a box of condoms at Teresa's apartment to make sure he didn't knock her up.

Eventually Teresa began to realize that Gerald wasn't interested in building a future with her. She was just a college fling to him. But the pretty waitress was determined to have more.

Knowing Gerald's desire to become a politician, she cooked up a plan to force him to marry her.

* * * *

One evening after a night of partying, Gerald and Teresa climbed into bed together. 

Gerald had been drinking a lot that night, and he wasn't in complete control of his senses. 

Gerald quickly stripped off Teresa's clothes, and then removed his own. He started kissing her neck, and moved down to her ample breasts.

Teresa moaned as Gerald bit down on her nipple. "That feels so good," she purred. "Make love to me."

Gerald's cock was rock hard. He pulled the top drawer to the night stand open, and reached inside. Grabbing the condom box, he opened the lid. "Damn," he exclaimed as he stared at the empty box.

"What's wrong?" Teresa asked, already knowing the answer.

"We're out of condoms. I don't understand. The box had three or four condoms in it last week."

"Honey, you made love to me four times last weekend. We must have used them up," Teresa lied smoothly.

"I'll have to make a trip to the store to get more."

Teresa slipped her arms around Gerald's neck and kissed him. "It's late. Why don't I just suck your cock tonight, and then you can buy condoms tomorrow."

Gerald loved the feel of Teresa's lips around his cock. 

She was an excellent cock sucker. She would repeatedly drive him to the point of orgasm, only to slow down, make him crazy. 

Once Gerald calmed down a little, Teresa would start all over. Eventually he would grow frustrated, roll her over, grab a condom, and fuck her mercilessly.

Gerald smiled at his sex toy. "That sounds like a plan to me."

She rolled her lover onto his back. Sliding down until her face hovered over Gerald's throbbing erection, she smiled up at him. "I'm going to give you the best blow job of your life." Grasping his throbbing shaft, she winked at her lover. "I look forward to feeling your cum slide into my belly."

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, realizing that she intended to swallow his load.

Teresa lowered her lips to Gerald's cock head. She gently kissed the tip of his throbbing member. 

Gerald moaned as the blond beauty snaked her tongue out of her mouth and licked his piss hole.

She teased the head of his dick with her lips and tongue, driving the semi drunk young man crazy.

"Fuck, baby, take it in your mouth," he pleaded.

Teresa opened her mouth wide, and slid the monster deep inside.

Gerald groaned as his throbbing member disappeared into her oral cavity. "Oh, shit that feels good."

Teresa eased her head back slowly, tormenting the cock in her mouth as she let it slip from her mouth until only the tip was between her sexy lips. She watched Gerald's reaction as she tortured his sensitive shaft.

"Don't stop," he begged. "Keep going." His alcohol induced brain was beginning to fog over.

Teresa slid the sausage back into her mouth, until the tip touched the entrance to her throat. As she withdrew, she sucked hard on his shaft, driving him crazy with lust. She smiled inwardly as Gerald's body jerked violently against the bed. Teresa knew it wouldn't be long before Gerald would want to take her. He would fuck her, and fill her fertile womb with his seed.

Gerald's head began to spin as his lover sucked his overheated cock. He wanted to fuck her so bad.

Teresa nursed on the meat in her mouth, bringing Gerald to new heights with each suck. She slowly tortured him, keeping him on the edge of orgasm, but not letting him cum.

"Of fuck, baby, I'm so close," he groaned.

Teresa continued to work on the throbbing meat in her mouth. She took her time, making her lover suffer. As she sucked, Teresa reached between her legs and began to rub her clit. She didn't want to be dry when Gerald took her. She slipped her middle finger into her pussy, and began massaging her G spot.

Gerald began to grow impatient. He wanted to cum more than anything. As Teresa slowly worked on his shaft; the young law student lost control of his senses. 

He reached down and grabbed her by the hair of her head and pulled her off his cock. He pulled her up to him, and rolled her onto her back. Seconds later Gerald lay on top of Teresa with his thighs between hers, and the tip of his cock head nestled between her pussy lips.

Teresa stared up at her lover, in pretended concern. "We don't have any condoms," she said in a fake fearful tone.

"I'll pull out before I cum," Gerald insisted.

"Are you sure?" She asked, sounding as if she was a little worried.

"I promise I'll pull out." Gerald's rational thinking had completely disappeared.

Teresa acted as if she was thinking it over. "Ok, but make sure you pull out. I don't want to get pregnant."

Gerald sank his cock balls deep into Teresa's sopping wet pussy. He began to pound her furiously. His cock throbbed as he thrust into his lover again and again.

Teresa mewed as her pussy was used to satiate her boyfriend's lust.

He rammed into her repeatedly. All sense of caring gone from his mind. Gerald desperately wanted and needed to cum.

Teresa prepared herself to receive Gerald's sperm. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her long legs around his hips so that he wouldn't be able to pull out. She clung to him tightly as thrust into her again and again.

Gerald's balls began to churn with the need to cum continued to build. All thoughts of withdrawing went out the window. He erupted deep in Teresa's fertile body. His sperm slammed against her cervix.

Teresa whimpered lustfully, clinging tightly to Gerald as he filled her pussy with his sperm. The thought that she might end up pregnant drove her over the edge. She shook violently as Gerald filled her receptive body with his seed. "Oh baby, I love you," she cried as her orgasm overtook her.

* * * *

The following morning, Gerald woke up, and remembered what he'd done. "Oh shit," he groaned as he looked at his sleeping lover. He quickly dressed, and left without waking her. On the way back to campus, he bought a box of condoms.

This would never happen again. 

As he drove down the street, Gerald muttered to himself. "We only did it once. Everything should be alright."

* * * *

Gerald called Teresa later that morning, and gave her an excuse about needing to prepare for midterms. He told her that they would get together again the following Friday night.

After hanging up her cell phone, Teresa rubbed her tummy. "With any luck, I'll have some good news for you come Friday."

* * * *

Three days later, while driving home from work; Teresa stopped at the local drugstore and bought two home pregnancy tests. 

As soon as she got home, she headed to the bathroom. She stripped off her work clothes, read the instructions and then took the test.

Teresa sat nervously on the toilet and waited for the results.

After the appropriate time had elapsed, she checked the wand. Her heart sank as she stared at the test. She wasn't pregnant.

"Now what do I do? Gerald will never let this happen again."

At that moment the doorbell rang.

Grabbing up her short robe, Teresa slipped it on, and headed for the door.

Her brother Sam stood in the hall, still wearing his permanent press work clothes. "Hey Sis, I'm sorry to bother you, but my phone isn't working and I need to call the phone company."

Sam noticed that the robe she was wearing barely covered her mound. He looked her voluptuous body over. His cock jerked involuntarily. He'd wanted to fuck his sexy older sister for as long as he could remember.

Teresa watched her brother's eyes raked over her body as she stood there in her small robe. An evil thought popped into her head. She knew it was an insane plan, but Teresa desperately wanted to be the wife of a future politician. She gave her brother a warm smile. "No problem, little Brother. Come on in. I'll get my cell phone."

Sam entered his Sister's apartment and closed the door.

Teresa strolled across her small living room to the coffee table. She bent over and started rummaging through her purse. Teresa knew right where her cell phone was, but she wanted to give Sam a good view of her ass.

Sam nearly stared holes in his sister's sweet ass and pussy. His cock grew rock hard.

Teresa began swaying her ass back and forth as she searched. "I know my phone is in here somewhere."

Sam could only stare at the amazing sight before him.

Deciding she'd given her baby brother enough time to simmer, Teresa grabbed her phone and turned around. She instantly spotted the tent in her brother's work pants. She gave him a playful smile.

Sam immediately averted his eyes.

Teresa approached her brother, and stood less than six inches from him. She gazed up into his eyes, and gave him her sexiest smile. She reached out and grasped his rock hard shaft.

Sam groaned.

"I see someone likes what he sees."

Sam trembled as his sister squeezed his cock. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been looking."

Teresa began stroking her brother's cock through his permanent press slacks. "It's ok. I've known for a long time that you want to fuck me. To be honest with you, I've wanted to fuck you too."

Sam stared in disbelief as his ears rang with her words. "But, you're my Sister."

Teresa stepped closer, causing her breasts to press against his upper stomach. "It's not like we're going to become lovers. I just want to know what it would feel like to have your wonderful cock buried in my pussy." She leaned up and kissed her brother's lips.

Sam's body shook with desire. He broke the kiss as the image of his parents entered his mind. "What about our Parents? What will they think if they find out?"

Teresa squeezed her brother's cock again. "No one has to know. It'll be our little secret. Come on little Brother; admit that you want to fuck your Sister."

Sam groaned. "Yes, I want to fuck you."

"I must tell you that there are two conditions to us fucking." 

"What?" Sam asked, worried that Teresa might change her mind.

"Number one, no one must ever find out. You can't tell your friends, or anyone. I intend to be Mrs. Gerald Graham one day, and I don't need you fucking that up by having word get out that we are having sex."

Sam quickly nodded.

Teresa knew she had her little brother right where she wanted him. "Two, we are not entering into a romantic relationship. This is just sex, and we stop when I say so. I don't want you coming over here all the time begging me to let you fuck me once it's over. Do you agree to these terms?"

"Yes," Sam croaked.

Teresa held onto her brother's throbbing cock as she turned towards her bedroom.

Sam followed his sister like a puppy who had been promised a special treat.

Teresa stopped next to her bed. She released her grip on Sam's cock. As she turned to face him, she untied the sash to her robe. Gazing up at her brother, Teresa let the robe slip from her shoulders and fall to the floor.

Sam took in the vision of his sister's nude body. He immediately started stripping off his work clothes. Within a minute he stood before her completely nude.

Teresa looked down at her Brother's cock.

It was much larger than any man she'd had before. The shaft was long, and very thick. It would definitely fill her completely, and most likely stretch her vaginal walls wider than ever.

Teresa climbed onto the center of the bed, and lay back. She spread her legs wide, and started rubbing her clit.

Sam watched his sister rub her clit. His eyes danced with hunger as her pussy started to moisten.

When Teresa was sure she was ready, she held out her arms to her excited brother. "Come baby Brother. Fuck your big Sister."

Sam climbed onto the bed and slid between his sister's creamy thighs. There was no foreplay; only a deep desire to bury his cock in her pussy.

He slid his cock head against the entrance to her pussy.

Teresa gazed up at her brother. She gave him her best seductive smile. "Go ahead baby Brother. Stick your hard cock in your Sister's pussy."

Sam thrust forward, forcing Teresa's vaginal walls wide. In one quick thrust his cock's tip slammed into her cervix.

Teresa gasped in shock as her birth canal was forced open. She looked up at her brother. "Go slowly. You don't want to rip me apart, do you?"

He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I got a little excited."

"It's alright little Brother. Just go slowly until I get used to having a big cock like yours in me."

Teresa wrapped her arms around Sam's neck, and then drew her brother close. She kissed him, snaking her tongue into his mouth.

Sam began to withdraw his cock until only the head was still inside. He then eased it back into her receptive body.

Teresa moaned into her brother's mouth. She knew that what they were doing was wrong, but it was the only way she would become pregnant without Gerald finding out he isn't the Father.

Sam's cock tip once again pressed against his sister's cervix.

Teresa gasped into her brother's mouth. She involuntarily wrapped her long legs around her sibling's thighs.

Sam began to slowly move his cock in and out of Teresa's pussy. He drew his lips away and gazed at her lovely face.

She smiled up at him. "You're fucking your big Sister. My little Brother is fucking me with his big, hard cock."

As Teresa's pussy adjusted to being stretched, Sam began picking up speed. He thrust into her again and again.

Teresa began rocking against her brother's thrusts. She wasn't fucking him because she wanted him. She just wanted his sperm. After all, Sam wasn't her lover, he was her brother. At the moment he was a sperm donor.

Sam continued thrusting into his sister's body. His cock began to thicken as his excitement grew. His shaft began stimulating his sister's G spot, near the entrance of her pussy.

Teresa began to grow excited. Her thoughts spun in a thousand different directions as she realized that her brother was actually turning her on.

He was stimulating her sexually.

Teresa's pussy began to clamp down on her brother's rock hard shaft. "Oh fuck," she exclaimed as a wave of lust shot through her body.

Sam continued to drill his sister's tender pussy. His dick had become as hard as a steel rod. His churning balls slammed against her butt crack with each inward thrust. Sam felt his orgasm approaching. "I need to pull out," he breathlessly exclaimed. 

Teresa pulled her brother's head next to her cheek. "Don't pull out," she begged. "Please little brother, cum in me."

"But I could get you pregnant."

"I don't care," Teresa whispered. "I want you to cum in me."

Sam thrust into his sister's receptive body. He knew that this was dangerous, but he couldn't bring him to stop.

Sam withdrew most of his cock, and then thrust into his sister one more time. He groaned as his dick began spewing baby making sperm into his sister's fertile body.

Teresa lost it at that moment. Her orgasm shot through her like a bolt of lightning. "Oh fuck," she screamed. "I can feel your sperm in me." She writhed, and jerked beneath her brother.

Sam had never cum so hard. His dick poured a quart of life giving sperm into his sister's womb.

Teresa's legs tightened around her brother's thighs. She shook violently as her orgasm ripped through her.

Sam felt his balls emptying their contents into his sister's womb. He writhed as he lay atop her.

Their orgasms slowly began to subside.

Sam lay on top of his sister as she rode out the last waves of pleasure. A feeling of guilt immediately began to surface. As he lay there with his lips next to her ear, he whispered. "Sis, what we did was dangerous. You could end up pregnant."

An impish expression crossed Teresa's face. "What if I told you that I want you to make me pregnant?"

Sam lifted his head and looked down at his older sister in disbelief. "What did you just say?"

The devious expression was still etched on her face. "I said I want to be pregnant."

The wheels in Sam's mind began to turn. "You want me to knock you up so that Gerald will think he's the Father, don't you?"

"Baby Brother, I want to be Mrs. Gerald Graham. Let's face it; the only way a future politician would ever marry me is if I was pregnant with his child. Gerald is too careful to make me pregnant. Friday night I tricked him into having unprotected sex with me. Unfortunately I didn't get pregnant. But with your baby makers swimming towards my waiting egg, I just might get what I want."

"And what do I get out of this lie of yours?"

Teresa leaned up and briefly kissed her brother's lips. "You, baby Brother, get to fuck your big Sister as much as you want for the next three days." A smile appeared on her lovely features. "To be honest with you, I don't want to stop fucking you in three days. I want this wonderful cock buried in me every chance I get. So, littler Brother, I guess from now on, you will be my secret lover."

* * * *

That Friday evening Gerald sat in Teresa's living room as she gave him the terrible news.

"I'm pregnant."

The statement stopped him dead in his tracks. Gerald stared at his girlfriend in disbelief. "Are you sure?"


The Lie



Teresa nodded. "I was worried after you came in me, so I took a home pregnancy test this morning."

Gerald felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach. "How could this happen?" 

Teresa lowered her gaze, and acted frightened. "You know how it happened," she replied. "We had unprotected sex last week, and now I'm pregnant."

"Yeah, but I only came in you one time."

Teresa gazed into Gerald's eyes. "It only takes one time."

"What are we going to do?"

Teresa bit back the smile that threatened to surface. "I guess we have no choice but to get married. After all, if word got out that you knocked me up; your political career would be destroyed."

* * * *

Gerald spoke to his parents that weekend. 

His father was furious that he'd done something as stupid as impregnating a waitress.

They decided to pay Teresa off to keep her quiet.

Teresa should have been devastated that Gerald wanted out of the relationship. But the truth is Sam was a far better lover than the future congressman would ever be.

Besides, the money would more than make up for the lack of a powerful husband.

The Grahams paid Teresa five million dollars, and bought her a nice house on the other side of the country.

Sam moved with his sister. 

Their parents were unhappy that their daughter had gotten herself pregnant, but they were glad that their son had decided to take care of his older sister.

Teresa and Sam sold the house, and moved to an undisclosed location.

Teresa gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Sam's name was put on the birth certificate as the father.

They still live, hidden away from their loved ones. The happy couple spends their days and evenings having unbridled sex.

Teresa has once again entered her fertile time of the month.

That however is another story.

Perhaps!



The Lies We Tell Ourselves: Deana’s



This story is part of a series based (loosely) on the women in my life, including myself, and the men who love *cough* ops I mean fuck them. If you like it please let me know so I can continue. If you don't then please let me know why so I can improve. Hope you enjoy.

*

It was insane, like he had a super power or something. This man could read me like a book. When he looked at me, it was as if he could see into me. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time. I had known Harvey for a few months. I somehow stumbled into a job at a greeting card company right after finishing my bachelors and he was one of my co-workers. He was a smug little bastard. He oozed sex from every pore and knew it. He had the look of a bad boy, who was good at hiding it. On top of that, he had stunning emerald eyes. He was the type of guy that made women wet with one flash of his green beauties. He also managed to look equally as sexy in his business suits as he did in a tee shirt and jeans. He was solid; a good 230 pounds and well-toned but not over done muscles. It was a refreshing vacation from all the frat boys who tried to poke me with their skinny little dicks all through college. 

Then there is me. It is kind of strange for me to describe myself. Where to start, well, my brother calls me dimples because of the two prominent ones I get on my cheeks when I smile. I think they make me look to young and I get tired of people teasing me about them, so I learned to hide them as much as possible. However, if I laugh or smile to large they usually appear. The first things men usually notice about me are my large breasts. Growing up I never really realized how much attention they got me. I saw them as more of a hassle then an asset. Until I started dating Fred who treated them like they were gold. Being with him taught me the value of my sweater twins. I can't say what bra size I wear. I never have been able to find one that fit properly. I wouldn't wear one at all but if for some reason I needed to run they would be continually slapping me in the face. I am also fairly tall. I am 5'7 or 5'8in of cinnamon brown. I have always been what Fred called "bootylicous". It is one of those ridiculous phrases that the few African Americans that went to my school used on a regular basis to describe a woman with a... lets just say healthy derrière. Although, my ass is not one of those obnoxiously huge ones you see in a rap music video. It is large but more proportional to my frame. When I was younger, I used to be on the thin side but since I have been in college for the past 4 1/2 years, my weight has fluctuated. Not that I am huge or anything, I have more of an hourglass shape. I am somewhere around 139 pounds now, minus a few pounds for the sweater twins of course. 

But enough about me it's starting to get awkward. Let's get back to talking about this man. This man who my Latina girl friend Alba refers to as my perfeccione el igual sexual or perfect sexual match. I am not completely sure how he got me. I never liked him. Like I said he was a smug little bastered. He was so used to women fawning over him that he walked around as if the sun shined out his ass. Although I will admit he was good looking, his attitude was nearly unbearable. He would always stroll over to my desk flashing those eyes of his trying to manipulate me into doing him some sort of favor. It may have worked on all the other little white tarts that traipsed around the office but this sista was not one of them. Plus, he was a white guy. I trust white people about as far as I can throw them. I was born in the hood but my family moved into a nearly all white suburb when my parents got their money right. My brother and I only had each other as we suffered through racism on a frequent basis. It wasn't until high school when Alba and her family moved into town that I finally had someone who understood what I was going through.

To be perfectly honest I never really valued or held men in much high esteem either. Fred was my first boyfriend. He was pretty much my first everything. He was pretty cute. His mother was Hispanic but died during childbirth so his black father raised him. He had all the traits of someone who was raised alone by his father. His father did a good job of teaching him how to treat women. He always treated me with respect, which I guess is how he managed to weasel his way into my pants. However, he was extremely messy. I supposed that is one of the negative side effects of not having your mother around. Fred was no dynamo but he had a 6 ½ inch dick (he measured it in front of me once) and he knew how to use it. I usually orgasmed when we were together so I couldn't really complain about the sex. The sex was good. However, I don't think I will ever be able to go back to just having good sex ever since I had mind-bogglingly amazing sex! Fred and I dated for almost a year, but it ended when he realized how uninterested and unimportant our relationship was to me. I can't say I was hurt by the break up, I was looking for a way out anyway. After Fred, I dated some. Pretty much any guy in my predominantly white college (yeah, even in college I couldn't escape them) with a hard on for black girls asked me out. I always accepted the offers enjoying the free meals and movies. Out of all the guys I dated after Fred I only slept with one of them. He played for the schools basketball team and was one of the few Blacks at the school; we dated a few times. Then one night I was blowing off some steam after midterms and...well what do you want me to say? I was drunk and horny. I don't really remember much about that night but it sufficed to satisfy my urge for a while. I suppose he must have really enjoyed it because mini Jordan was practically ready to marry me afterwards. I am not going to say I enjoy breaking guys' hearts but caring about them just takes a little more time then I am willing to put in. Needless to say, I shot a hole in that dream real quick. 

Alba thinks I can be a bitch to men. She decided to minor in psychology, so now suddenly she is an amateur psychologist and I have daddy issues. Please! Men are just not important to me. I have other things in my life that are a higher priority. However, I suppose the daddy issue diagnosis is better than what she used to tease me about before she began her minor. I am not a lesbian and I don't hate men. Most of the time I don't even respond to her teasing, but I will tell you this: if I wanted to be with a girl I would. Unfortunately, vaginas and boobs just don't do it for me. As for hating men it is not that I hate them, I am just indifferent towards them. It simply comes down to me not having much use for them.

I was finishing my masters in Graphic Design and working at the greeting card company. I been there for about 5 months and I was finally getting used to balancing school and work. Harvey was one of my co-workers. Everyone was divided into divisions; I worked the children's holiday division. I help with the designs for all those cards that were meant to look like they were from a child to an adult. It was October so we were finishing the last batch of cards for New Years. It was always a little strange to me to be creating fireworks designs when it was so close to Halloween but, in the greeting card business you do everything months ahead. All in all, I liked my job. It was no dream but it was kinda fun and it left room for me to be creative. I was actually the person who came up with a new technique to make the artwork look like it was drawn in crayon. I quickly became well known around the office as one of the best graphic designers. It was nice to be recognized but it had its down side because it meant more work and requests for favors. 

Harvey must have caught wind of this too because the next thing I know Mr. Green eyes is sautéing over to my desk trying to get me to finish up some designs for his Christmas project. Harvey was head of his division; it was small. They were responsible for grandparents. Apparently, he was behind because he wanted me to work on the cover art for 2 of his cards. Harvey already had Marcy from the anniversary female division and Lacy from the anytime division working on some for him. Before Harvey could even finish his request for me to work on some cards for him I cut him off. 

"No!" I said sternly

"Oh come on honey pot, you know you are going to have some extra time. Couldn't you please just do me this one favor," he said flashing an enchanting smile.

I let out an aggravated sigh.

"Do you know you make the cutest face when your irritated honey pot?"

Ok I will admit he did make me laugh a little (internally) but I know he was just trying to cut the tension and butter me up so I hid my amusement from him. 

"My extra time is for me not you, AND what did I tell you about calling me honey pot."

"You know you love it hon-ney po..."

"Harvey!"

"Ok ok fine I will try and find someone else," he said throwing his hands up and giving a crooked smile.

He walked over to the intern. I suppose he was going to try to get her help. Where does he get off calling me Honey pot? I don't even know where that came from. I hate pet names. Well, I supposed it is better than all the other generic ones like baby, sweetie and boo. Honey pot is much more tolerable. Ok ok I will admit it, Honey pot is slightly endearing. Nevertheless, I still hate pet names!

The boss's secretary sent and e-mail reminding everyone that we were going to have an office Halloween party and that everyone was supposed to dress up. I had almost forgotten about the party. When I got home I called up Alba. 

"Ay Chica. How was work today?"

"It was ok I guess Harvey tried to seduce me into picking up some of his load."

"Oh you mean the gorgeous guy with the green eyes? Gringo had it going on, I wish he would try to seduce me."

"Alba you saw the man once when you picked me up for lunch how do you remember him."

"Sweetheart I never forget a cute guy, especially one who takes the time out to introduce himself to me."

"Whatever Alba he is just another one of those conceited white boys."

"Oh you know he is cute."

"He may be cute but he is still and ass hole."

"If you say so Deana. What did you call for anyway?"

"Ooo yeah, I almost forgot. I have to go to this Halloween party at work and you gotta help me find a costume."

"OOH! Shopping. I love shopping I will be right over."

Alba hung up.

Alba may be my best friend but we have many differences. For one, she loves to shop and I hate it. It is probably because Alba has one of those bodies that looks good in everything. While I have a much more difficult time finding clothes that, fit my curves. Alba and I went to two different costume stores before I gave up. All the clothes that were sold for women were way to sluty; it was a work party I had to be appropriate. I was going to buy the grim reaper costume but Alba bout had a fit. Apparently, it made me seem frigid and did nothing for my figure. However, there was no in-between; it was either sluty nurse or Grim reaper. I was about to just come to work as plain old Deana but Alba suddenly got a great idea. We stopped off at her place and she let me borrow her police uniform. She was a security guard during her sophomore year of college and still had it in her closet. Alba is thinner than I am so the uniform hugged all my curves very tightly but at least it didn't show too much skin. While I looked myself over in the mirror, Alba went into the box in her closet and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. I told Alba I didn't want her sex cuffs but she insisted so I added them to my costume. Atleast they weren't fuzzy or covered in any suspicious liquids.

The morning of the office party, I showered in my new body wash. I forget what it was called but it was from bath and body works. It was one of those things people give you as a gift when they don't know what to buy, but it smelled great. I had not done laundry in a while so all I had was my matching set of bra and underwear. You know the kind. The kind you pull out for when you know you are going to get laid. I had not used those in a while. I put on the matching purple underwear and bra with lace details. Then I squeezed my ass back into the uniform and attached the cuffs to my side. I have to admit I looked kinda hot. 

At work I got plenty of comments about my costume. Twiddle Dee the ditsy blonde receptionist (whos costume was her high school Cheerleader uniform) pointed out that my uniform was not actually a police costume like I was telling everyone. I suppose she just felt like being a bitch that day, but I was at work so I let it go. I was surprised that everyone at work was dressed up. As I did my work, some of my male co-workers approached my desk commenting on my uniform with obvious lust behind their voices. Mr. Green eyes must have been swamped because I did not see him all day. To be honest I was a little offended that he didn't take this opportunity to make some inappropriate joke about my costume. If the lothario that is Harvey Swanson did not approach me then perhaps I was not as hot as I thought I was. Either way I figure it was a good thing that Harvey wasn't bothering me. 

As the workday dwindled down I went with some of the other ladies in the office to help set up for the party. It was nothing spectacular. A couple pumpkins here and there, some fake cobwebs, you get the picture. I borrowed Lacy's ridiculously high heels so I could reach the high places to put up the cobwebs. Lacy was dressed as a slutier version of Dorothy from the wizard of OZ and it came with 4 inch platform heels. She was busy with other stuff so she gave me the heels to save the time of getting a ladder. As my back was turn to affix one of the decorations, I felt hot breath on my neck. It startled me so I stumbled backwards.

"mmmm Honey Pot you look great today." I heard whispering in my ear as I am caught around the waist.

Oh great its Mr. Green eyes again, I thought. I push myself off him and turn to face him. I was irritated at his forwardness but I decided to let it go.

"I know," I said with a smirk before swaying away to give Lacy back her shoes.

Ok so I will admit it. I am not the most responsible drinker. I had already snuck one drink as I helped get ready for the party. Which is probably why I was flirting with Harvey. By the time the party really hit full swing I was already good and tipsy. Harvey had dressed up as a fireman. The costume was obviously not real, it had glitter details and velcro down the back to keep it secure or maybe to make it easier to take off. Maybe it was the alcohol but for some reason instead of looking like a cheesy male stripper he looked, looked sexy. I always did have a fireman fantasy. All this combined was why, I guess, I put up with all Harvey's advances. The next thing I know we are in the bosses' bathroom. It was a blur of cuffs, clothes dropping to the floor and moaning. Ok ok I will try to give you as much detail as I can remember since I know the sex is what you're all here for.

I was dancing with Tina, on of my teammates, off in the corner. It was nothing to sluty but it would definitely qualify as drunk dancing. It must have gotten a little to crazy because my top ripped at the chest. I was immediately embarrassed and scurried to the bathroom. The party was after work hours and the Janitors had already locked the door. I had forgotten that the boss let us know if we needed to use the bathroom to use the private one in his office. So I went back into the party room and tried to make my way through the crowd unnoticed. Looking back to see if anyone noticed me, I walked right into Harvey. Noticing a theme here? I never did master that whole grace thing. I backed away from his hard chest and looked up to see his green eyes staring down at me. I fully expected him to make some lewd comment but he didn't. It was clear he had to tear his eyes away from my nearly exposed breast, but he must have sensed my embarrassment because he didn't say a word. He merely backed up and pointed my way towards the bathroom. He even went as far as to run interference by distracting the others who were in my path. A modern day night in shining armor, right? Ok not really, but I was drunk. So sue me.

I was so embarrassed. It was bad enough I got that drunk at a work party but I didn't want to become the office skank. My mind filled with images of the women whispering behind my back and the men taking it as an opportunity to sexually harass me. I kept fidgeting with the top trying to make it close more but I only succeeded in making the tear larger. It was only about a ½ inch from my very low cut bra at that point. I considered quitting but I liked this job I was hoping to stick around and move up once I finished grad school. So I burst into tears (Did I mention I get emotional when I am drunk?). I decided the best thing to do would be to wait it out. So, I made myself comfortable on the chaise lounge in the bathroom and listened for the end of the party. I don't know how long I waited nor do I remember what I did to kill time.

At some point I started to hear everyone's goodbyes. Before I could get myself together and leave the bathroom, I heard a knock on the door. 

"Deana, are you ok."

I panicked; someone knew I was hiding out in the bathroom. I decided to stay silent hoping they would assume know one was there and give up.

"Honey Pot are you there?"

Oh it is just Harvey, I thought.

"Yeah yeah I am fine what do you want," I snapped back

"Damn. I just wanted to make sure you were ok. You looked really upset," He said with a sad irritation.

I felt bad about my harsh tone so I opened the door. He was leaning into the door so when I opened it he fell into me. I grabbed onto him in am attempt to help him regain his balance. The hugging position we were in started to last uncomfortably long so I tried to pull away. 

Instead he grabbed onto my waist pulling me closer and saying, "You smell wonderful" in a low suggestive tone. 

I tried to pull away again but he just held on tighter and continued, "Almost good enough to eat". 

I stepped on Harvey's toe then pulled away from him harder. He gave me a sharp slap on the ass, "No Honey Pot! I intend to atleast taste you tonight". 

Damit, I was horny and the slap on my ass sent vibrations through my body making me feel things I hadn't felt in a while. I wanted to say something. To turn on the sass and wit that I always have but I couldn't. To my total shock, this cocky white boy had my pussy twitching. I kept trying to will my mouth to speak but before I could get some words together, he kissed me. Lightly sucking my tongue into his and sliding his hands down to squeeze my ass. Harvey was touching my ass! A white boy was touching my ass! My mind was screaming what the hell are you doing letting him touch you like this but, there was a little voice that said you know it feels good just let him have it. For some reason the little voice was the only one my body was listening to. When he released my lips from the passionate kiss, I involuntarily moaned. He loosened his grip on me and stepped back. His eyes lit up when he realized the moan was coming from me. He looked surprised at first but suddenly his eyes went from a bright green to a darker shade of emerald. I was still in shock as I studied his face trying to read this new emotion. Then I realized where his eyes were looking. My bountiful breasts were now completely exposed, only covered by the minimal area that my lacy purple bra enclosed. I instinctively went to cover my breast, but almost lighting fast Harvey grabbed my arms pushing me into a wall and pinning my arms above my head. Once again I couldn't speak. 

"No honey pot don't you dare hide those from my view", he said possessively.




The Lies We Tell Ourselves: Deana’s



His free hands began to cup and massage my breast. Damn it felt sooo good. It felt like my entire pussy was liquefying. I unconsciously thrust my chest to meet his touch no longer straining against the hand that held mine. Then he stopped and I looked back at him with pleading eyes. In return, he gave me a stern stare and instructed me to take off my bra. I am not sure what my face looked like from his point of view but it must have been something all long the lines of "you must be crazy". I may have lost my ability to speak but the feisty woman that lives within me was still there. There was a long pause with him looking at me with that stern stare of his. Then the next thing I know he is bending me over the chaise lounge. 

He slaps my ass a good 5 or 6 times saying, "Honey pot I told you to take off the bra. I want to see those glorious boobs of yours and I want you to show them to me. Now if you don't listen I will double the spankings." 

If his tone wasn't so serious I would have thought he was joking. I weighed my options. If I refused and he spanked me again I ran the risk of letting him discover how turned on I was by it. I was not about to let him see that side of me. So the bra had to go. Standing up I took my shirt the rest of the way off and reached back to remove my bra. He grabbed my shoulders turning me around and gave me the most soul-wrenching stare. 

"You are so fucking gorgeous," he said with a groan. 

I don't know if my nipples were already hard or if they became hard under his stare but I suddenly became aware of how my nipples were starting to resemble Hershey kisses. Without warning, he lunged forward devouring my left breast as if he were starving. His tongue lapped over my nipple manipulating it into temporary shapes. Then he switched to my right breast and gave it the same treatment. 

I am not sure who unbuttoned my pants but before I knew it they were sliding off my body. When he saw my purple lace panties, he let out a lustful groan. 

"Do you always wear such sluty underwear under your clothes? I don't think I will ever be able to look at you the same with your work clothes on with out fantasizing about the sexy underwear beneath." 

I wanted to tell him that I don't normally dress like this, to make a snappy comment about buying these with Alba but once again, I was at a loss for words. 

Harvey had somehow managed to get me lying down on the chaise and was peeling off the last of his clothes when I suddenly became aware of where I was. I was AT WORK in my BOSS'S bathroom. I started to squirm from under him trying to find a way out of this. 

Feeling me squirming away, he looked down at me, "Its ok we're alone. Everyone is gone and the morning cleaning crew won't be here for hours. The boss will never know. Its ok."

I continued to squirm his words, while sweet, were not enough to ease my mind. 

"Honey Pot I told you it was ok. Now if you don't sit back and let your self enjoy this I will use those hand cuffs of yours to restrain you," he said giving me another one of his stern looks although this time it seemed alittle more playful and flirtatious.

Harvey dipped his hand into my honey pot (You don't think that is why he calls me that do you? No it cant be. Could it?) and I thoroughly soaked his hand. I was already on the edge from the spanking earlier and I had a small orgasm just from his touch. 

"See I knew you wanted this Honey Pot just let me have it" he said in a much more pleading tone then he had been using this entire time. The orgasm temporality took my mind off the situation but it didn't take long for the panic to settle back in. I tried to squirm away again. Suddenly I felt his weight pressing against me harder. He was reaching underneath the lounge to get my handcuffs. Before I could do or say anything, he swept my hands up and handcuffed both my hands around the bar on the top of the chaise. My mouth gapped open in shock. 

"I told you if you didn't behave I would cuff you. I am a lot of thing but I am not a liar. Everything I say to you will always be the truth." 

An honest man? I found that very hard to believe. I racked my brain trying to think of a time he lied in the 5 months that I worked there but I couldn't. I saw Harvey in a completely new way that night. Ummm I don't mean that as suggestively as it sounds. 

He pressed the head of this dick against my opening but then suddenly stopped. I couldn't read the expression on his face. It was something like seriousness, lust, concern, pain and desire all wrapped in one. He began to spank my clit with his dick. 

"I am not going to take this from you Honey pot. You have to give it to me. You have to ask me for it".

Every slap of his dick against my clit sent electricity through my body. I shivered. I have never wanted anyone so much in my life. I wish I could describe his penis to you in perfect detail but sadly, I can't find the right words. All I can say was it was very large, but not intimidatingly large. It was just large enough to make you drool. Then there was the interesting contrast of his milky skin against my cinnamon colored body. For some reason it did not turn me off like I expected it to, instead, it had the opposite effect. 

Still, I couldn't bring myself to ask for it. Up until this point, I could chalk this whole experience up to some weird mind power he had over me. Asking for it would mean I had to admit to myself that I wanted this and I just couldn't do it. 

"Hhhoney Pot you don't wan this? You are honestly going to deny me this?" he said trying to fake the dominating tone he used before.

I remained silent. 

"You stubborn little slut. You will give it to me I am not walking away from this with blue balls." 

He stopped slapping my clit with his member and moved down my body. When he was face to face with my pussy he dove in, lapping up all the honey that was inside. He did marvelous things with his tongue that I can't explain. Within minutes, I was about to cum. Somehow he knew and stopped. I whimpered. 

"No orgasm until you ask for it," he said lifting this face from my puss. 

I shot back a look of refusal. He sighed indifferently and his mouth went back to work on my pussy. This time bringing me to the edge even faster by giving my clit more attention, sucking on it with is tongue and lapping across it

"I can do this all day. I love to eat pussy. I know this body and I will not let it cum unless it is on my cock". 

I couldn't take it anymore. There was something about the way the words pussy and cock rolled off his tongue with a hint of a New England accent. It pushed me over the edge and I lost all will power.

"Alright, alright FUCK ME!" I blurted out. 

"What?" he said, lightly nibbling on my clit. 

"Ahhh please fuck me fuck me fuck me please. I want it. I wanna cum on your big cock" 

Just as the "ck" sound left my mouth, he shoved his milk colored dick into my honey pot. I felt completely filled. It was an amazing sensation and one that I had never experience before. It was like his penis hit every millimeter of my pussy walls. Mmmmmmmmmm sensational. While I was enjoying the feeling, I suddenly began to panic. I didn't see him put a condom on. I wanted to shoot myself. I let this lothario stick me unprotected after he's been with who knows how many women. What was I thinking? He must have noticed my expression change from bliss to panic and knew what was wrong (I still have no idea how this man can read me so well). 

"Its ok I put a condom on," he said as he pulled out allowing me to see it and kissing me lightly on the forehead. 

How and when I do not know. I did not have much time to contemplate it because he thrust his dick back inside hitting me in a way that made my breath catch in my throat and pushed all thoughts from my head except how amazing his dick felt. I closed my eyes, enjoying the pace that he set. He used short strokes. Each time his dick slid across my pussy walls it made me shiver. Initially I sat back and enjoyed the ride, hehehe. However, I suddenly got the urge to reciprocate the pleasure I was feeling. I swiveled my hips under him. Using my internal muscles to grip his dick and rotate around it. I was a little out of practice so it took me a while to catch his pace but when I did, I heard a noise that sounded like a cross between a grunt and a moan escape his lips. I smiled satisfied that I had gotten a reaction out of him. This gave me a reason to step my game up. This time I used a mixture of grinding and snaking my hips. His eyes grew wide and his body stiffened up. I am not sure but it think he was about to cum. He stopped moving pulling out of me so only the tip was left inside. 

"Damn honey pot, if I had known you were going to be this good I would have never been able to wait this long. I guess the rumor that black women are great in bed is true. Da da damn," he said stumbling over his words a little and breathing hard. To be honest I didn't care what he had to say I just wanted his dick back inside me. 

"Mmmm and I guess the rumor that white boys aren't packing isn't true" I said coyly, wrapping my hand around the girth of his cock.

He squirmed when my hand squeezed his cock and it twitched in my hand. "I love the way my cinnamon skin melts into your milky skin. Please make me cum with your big white cock." I said blinking innocently.

A muffled "Mmmmmm Honey poot," was all I could make out before he plowed into me. His thrusts were fast and urgent. They sent shock waves through my body. His balls slapped the skin between my asshole and my pussy reigniting the love of spanking within me. I rocked my hips to meet his thrusts, trying to increase the intensity that his balls slapped against me. Within minutes, I felt myself Cumming. Obscenities spewed from my mouth as my pussy clapped down on his cock and released it. My words turned into moans as he pounded through me in quick short burst prolonging my orgasm. My eyes stopped working for a moment. It was insane how good that felt. I never wanted it to end. 

When I finally came down and regained my eyes sight, I looked into his eyes. They were squinted tightly, his mouth was twisted and his brows were cast low in concentration. I licked his ear lobe savoring the salty taste of the sweat dripping off him. Then I relaxed beneath him savoring the slow pace he developed and enjoying the feeling of being refilled over and over again. My pussy was still tender from the orgasm so the slow pace kept me enjoying myself without over stimulating me. Each stroke was long and soothing. I rocked my hips slowly moaning softly in pleasure. 

I lost track of time as I enjoyed my slow fucking. I was in a daze until suddenly he picked up the pace, slamming into me hard and fast. The first fast stroke caught me off guard and I squealed. I had never heard that noise come from me before. As he shot in and out of me I could feel his dick filling up with cum. Although I was enjoying myself I was worried about how much time passed. So I whispered into his ear something I never thought I would say. 

"Are you going to cum for me Harvey. Go on green eyes shoot your load all over your black slut."

With that, he pistoned in and out of me about 4 times before pulling out ripping off the condom and shooting his load all over me. I looked down and saw all his white cum splattered all over my brown body, like foam on a beach.

I heard a thump. I looked down and saw his body laid out on the floor. I nudged him with my foot. He wouldn't wake up. I leaned my ear as close to his face as I could with my arms still bound. He was still breathing so I assumed he passed out. His light brown hair was askew and his arms and legs were limp. Wow I must be really good, I thought to myself and laughed. I was exhausted to, but I was more worried about getting out of there before the morning crew came. I nudged him again and whispered for him to wake up. But once again, he did not respond. I searched the room for the keys to the cuffs. They were on the floor beside him. As I stretched my foot out to reach them, I scratched his side with my toe. With a groan, he turned and woke up. 

I smiled, "Hey, you gotta uncuff me."

With a grunt and a nod, he groggily got up to uncuff me. As he leaned over my naked body fiddling with the keys, I studied the curve of his lips. They called for me to kiss them. So as soon as my hands were free I grabbed his face pulling him down and licking across his lips. I recoiled slightly realizing that my pussy juice was still on them. His eyes popped open in surprise then he smiled hazily. Caught in his hypnotic gaze I couldn't bring myself to stop licking and kissing his lips. As long as he looked at me like that, I didn't mind tasting myself.

It wasn't until he blinked that I regained enough control to stop. I whispered that we needed to go. My voice cracked with lust and confusion. We had just finished and I still wanted him. Nevertheless, I went to the sink and cleaned myself up. He did the same and we silently searched for our clothes. They were scattered about the bathroom. When I put the top of the uniform back on I realized it was still torn. I hung my head in frustration but he held out his arm handing me his shirt. I slowly put it on. He watched me as if he was sad to see me get dressed again. Once I was fully dressed, I paused for a moment, marveling at how sexy he was. His chest was bare except for the suspenders of his costume. It was slick with sweat and I couldn't resist the urge to caress it. However, the caress wasn't enough. I began to kiss his chest and my hands followed the path of his chest hair to the top of his pants. He groaned sadly, stopping my hands from going any further. I shook my head trying to snap out of it. I knew we had to get out of there before it got too late.

We walked out to the parking lot together. It was empty except for one car. Then it hit me that I had started taking the bus to work to save money on gas.

He also noticed that the only car in the lot was his. He asked where my car was and I explained about the bus. It was far too late to catch the bus so he offered to give me a ride home. We were silent the entire ride. I didn't want to speak for fear of what I might say. The reason for his silence I am not sure about however. 

When we got to my house, he walked me to my door. Our eyes met for a moment and I smiled. His green eyes seemed to flash. I had a strong desire to kiss him goodnight. But it seemed like an appropriate way to end a date and I wasn't sure if he thought of our evening that way. So I did nothing. 

"See you Monday," he said his voice croaking as he walked back to his car. 



The Lieutenant



My wife Ginger and I—my name is Max Bertulucci— have been married twenty-one years. We have three children all girls. My day job is as a manager for an electronics warehouse in the city. Ginger is a full time housewife. But, lately she has become restless as the last of our babies has finally left the nest. She's become antsy and is easily upset by even the smallest thing, and it had begun to bug me. What I didn't realize, was that she had become vulnerable, vulnerable to other men.

Oh, by the way, my real job is as a black-hand lieutenant; that's right, I'm a mafioso. I run the gambling part of our enterprises—actually just sports cards, but make no mistake it is a very lucrative part of our family's business.

Enzo Bertulucci is my uncle. He's the head, the capo; of a local, newly formed element of the—it shall remain nameless—over-family in Philly. Our family's particular interests lie in the southwest, which part shall also remain nameless. Like most real mofiosi, most of the time we do nothing but live normal lives doing normal things while dealing with the normal trials and tribulations of everyday life. 

Ginger has been a wonderful wife and a wonderful mother. The fact that she is the mother of our children, and that she is doing so well at the job, is the sole reason that she is still alive. Let me explain.

Let me say right off. Ginger has no idea what my main job is. I do very well in the electronics business and she appreciates it and makes the most of my income and legitimate business interests. One of my business interests, which she has been making the most of lately, is Mark Williams, my boss at Electro-Mall.

I have always been protective of Ginger. She is always going here there and everywhere. So, I assigned a family soldier to watch her—read watch out for her not spy on her—whenever she was going to be gone from the house for any length of time. Carlo had come to me with the most humiliating news I had ever been faced with. My wife was fucking my day job boss. I told him to get me hard core proof.

It took a couple of weeks, but Carlo had gotten the evidence: photos, videos, audio files; the works. She broke my heart. 

I went to my uncle. He told me to stop whining and to take care of my family business or he would do it for me. Thenhe slapped me—hard—and told me to stop crying like the baby I was. His last words, again, were for me to handle it, and he walked off.

Handle it! I knew what that meant, and I just couldn't "handle it." Maybe my asshole boss, but not Ginger. I had to come up with something, but what.

I took a couple of days off from the job; I had to think, to plan. I told him, Williams that I was going to get out of town for a few days. I told him the truth that my wife and I were having problems, and I had to have time to think and to get my act together. Mark, bless his stinking soul, was more than happy to give me the holidays I was asking for; he couldn't know how happy he'd made me. The fuckwad was no doubt faunching at the bit to get into my wife's pants. 

When the time came to pay the piper, I was going to be more than happy to be there and to deliver the bad news to the asshole myself. In my mind I could hear him now: begging, screaming, and praying for mercy. There would be none. One does not mess with another man's family, not ever.

I packed my bags and did all of the right things necessary for someone about to leave town. I even had Ginger iron extra shirts for me in case I would be delayed in my return.

"Do you really have to go, Max," she said. "Why can't I go with you? I could use some unwinding too." She was good.

"Ginger, I am going to be doing some business too. I have some other things to attend to. I will be back by Thursday unless something untoward comes up. Okay?" I said.

She made as if to pout, but I could see that she was not all that shaken up with my going. I was wondering what she would have said if I had agreed to her phony wishes and said, "Oh yeah go ahead and pack a bag." I thought for a minute. I decided to do that very thing. It would be telling.

"Ging," I said, after seeming to have rethought my words, "I have decided that you are right. Pack a bag; I'm taking you with me."

Her face clouded over. "No, honey," she said, "I would just be in the way, I guess, of you doing your business. And, I need to be here for some other things this week to do with church affairs. Father Mario needs me for the sodality meeting Wednesday night."

Yeah, I thought cynically, sodality business my ass. Fucking Mark Williams isn't really high on the list of sodality priorities, but I guess it is of yours you cunt. I was getting dangerously close to doing something precipitously; I had to get outta there. I wondered if she'd ever considered fucking Fr. Mario. 

She kissed me passionately as I headed for the door with my bag. I kissed her back, and hustled out to the cab. The cab was driven by a cousin of mine, and he dropped me six blocks away to a waiting rental car that I would be using for the next few days. I wanted to catch them in the act myself. There's just something kinda neat about nailing cheaters in the act. It doesn't make up for all of the pain that they cause, no way, but it does feel pretty good. I was planning on feelin' real good for sure. But, I was also sick at heart. When a woman chooses a lover over her husband the degree of hurt is almost beyond measure. My stomach had not stopped churning since Carlo had laid all of the hard evidence on me.

I checked in at a local motel and then drove back to a street one over to wait for the asshole's car to come by; his mustard yellow Z-car would be difficult to not notice. I could have had Carlo sit and wait for the guy, but this one I had to do myself; no, I wanted to do it myself. I wanted to experience firsthand my wife's infidelity. I didn't want to just hear about it, see pictures about it, or any of that; I wanted to see it with my own eyes. I'd already seen the damn pictures! And, as I said, I also wanted to see their faces when I caught them with their pants down so to speak. 

I knew he'd soon be going to my house once he was sure my plane had taken off; I knew because of the bug I'd put on my phone at the house: working at an electronics firm for more than twenty years had its upside.

Evidently, I had no more than told Mr. Williams about my plans to be out of town than he was on the phone to my beautiful and traitorous wife Ginger making a date with her. I listened again to the tape I'd recorded.

"Hello," she said...Oh, yes, Mark...really...yes...I'll be home tomorrow...the idiot is going where...oh, okay...park a few houses down...yes, after dark...don't want the neighbors getting nosey...okay, see you tomorrow night...love you too...bye." 

She was worried about the neighbors. That was something. We had bought the house we currently lived in because of the treed nature of the neighborhood and the privacy that it afforded. Yes, it was possible that someone might notice a strange car at the house, but it would have been unlikely to raise any red flags. Different visitors had come over, and often stayed over, fairly regularly over the years. We had a lot of friends and relatives—we were Italians for cryin'-out-loud!

Idiot? She referred to me as an idiot. She was insulting me on the phone to the asshole. I hadn't heard all that was on the tapes that Carlo had given me yet. I wondered what other insults I was going to have to endure. I was pissed before, but I was more than pissed now, and I was hurting. My wife! She was my wife! I loved her. I couldn't believe she held me in such contempt. I had always been good to her. I thought back over the past year. Had there been any sign that something was going on? If there had, I hadn't seen it. I still didn't.

The sex had been regular if not spectacular. The bills were paid. The children were our pride and joy. Both of our families were supportive and always in evidence. What was the hang up? What had I done? What did Mark Williams have that made me expendable as a husband? What made her call me an idiot? Again, what else had she called me, I wondered? Was she thinking of divorcing me? I'd heard her say she loved him. I had a lot of questions. But, I would be patient; I would have my answers one way or another.

I had decided that I wanted, no needed, to know everything I could. I had determined to not just walk in on them and bust them. I wanted to hear more and be there when I heard it. If I just broke them up, I might not ever know the real reason that she was doing this to me, and I really-really needed to know, for my own sanity.

His can of mustard passed me at low speed. I followed him; I knew where he was going; I didn't need to hurry.

He'd followed her instructions: he parked four houses down the block and made his way up to my house. I parked right behind him and checked to see that the little recorder I had brought with me was ready to go. I got out, made it to the side of the house, and quietly went around back.

Our house is actually three stories, though appearing to be but two stories from the front. Built into the side of a gentle slope, the basement is accessible only through the back. Unless they were planning to fuck in the basement, unlikely because of the large sliding glass door, they'd never see me enter the house. 

They weren't in the basement, and they didn't see me. They were howsoever in the den, just off the kitchen. I could hear them clearly.

"He got himself off and gone then," said the asshole.

"Got off?" said my wife.

"You know what I mean, he left, he went on the trip," said the asshole.

"Yes. And, for a moment there it was a little dicey; he almost had me go with him. Boy would that have been a bitch: having to stay with him in a small hotel room for four days. He would have wanted to fuck for sure, and I really didn't want to be near the little scuzzbucket," said the whore. "Not when I could have your nice big thingy doing me."

"I see what you mean. It was good for both of us, I guess, that I had gotten the proof of his cheating on you," he said.

I was stunned! I hadn't cheated on her! What proof. Then it occurred to me. Working for an electronics firm had been convenient for him too: he'd manufactured proof of infidelity on my part. He'd corrupted my wife. I felt a little better, not much, but a little.

The big question for me was why hadn't she come to me, raged at me, threatened to divorce me. Had she done so the truth would have come out, and Mr. Williams would have had a real bad day. Well, he was going to have one anyway.

I moved to the bottom of the stairs that led up to the kitchen. I hadn't yet totally decided what I was going to do. I had no weapon with me. I suddenly realized that I might need one. I was short, maybe five-five, just two inches taller than my wife, and weighed maybe one-forty-five. I was a hard body though, and I had always been able to make good account of myself even in high school. But Mark was six-two and well over two hundred; I needed an equalizer. I saw it: a foot long monkey wrench. I'd left it on top of the wet bar here in the basement a few days before. I'd needed it to handle a small plumbing job. I picked it up.

I climbed the stairs and listened through the bead-curtain that we used in place of a door. At the top I could hear them even better: they were slobbering all over each other.

I very slowly eased around the corner and into the kitchen staying low, so that they couldn't see me from the den beyond. They wouldn't see me I knew, unless they actually came into the kitchen; I gambled that they wouldn't. I squatted next to the breakfast bar just ten feet from the sinning pair on the other side. Gawd! how I wished that I'd had a periscope. I clicked on the mini-recorder; I was going to get all I could.

"That's right lover undo those buttons, but slowly, okay; I want this to last," said my wife the whore. I could actually hear it as she slid the satiny material from her shoulders exposing her bra covered breasts: breasts only I was supposed to be touching. My heart sank into a very dark place. 

I don't know where they came from, but tears started to flow down my face. I was filled with a mix of hate and despair and even love—don't ask me how the latter. Uncle Enzo would not have been proud of his favorite nephew right then: viscerally ashamed would have been more like it.

"Oh, Mark I love it when you are your knees in front of me. Pull them down please," she begged.

"My absolute pleasure," he said. "Mister husband would sure not like to see me doing this," said the cock-bite. "Geezsus, you are a one fucking gorgeous female. I will never get tired of seeing this."

"Yes, Mark, like that. Lick me. Oh my! My knees are weak," she said. "I need to get down there with you."

"I can't wait until you dump that little fart," he said.

"It won't be long, dear" she said. "I'm thinking of laying things out to him when he gets back from this little trip he's on. I am going to screw over his cheating ass big time. But today, I want just little bit more revenge," she giggled.

"You bet, little girl," he said.

"Gawd! Mark, do me, do me now; I need it bad."

He looked down at her. The curve of her hips, her feminine softness, her breasts that sagged not at all: conning her had been worth it, he thought. He hadn't really disliked Max, but he had to have his woman, his wife, so he'd set her up. She'd thank him later, he told himself. She'd thank him for showing her what a real man could do for her rather than the inadequate shrimp-assed wimp she'd married.

She crooked her finger at him beckoning him to take her. He stroked his pole once or twice teasing her. She feigned a pouting face. 

"Sock it to me," she said. "Hurry up."

I wanted to throw up. 

"Yes, Mark, like that. Fuck me. Oh my! My gawd! Oh! Your cock is so big." She bucked and flailed wildly as he pushed and pulled in and out of her. They came together in a stunning climax.

******

I had to either get out of there or bust in on them. I was so mad that I almost couldn't breathe, mad and sick to my stomach. I decided to get outta there. I knew what I was going to do, and mister big-dick was never going to be the same.

"I don't know how I put up with that little faggot that I've been married to for so long," she said. "If it weren't for the children I would have dumped him for inadequacy long ago."

She was digging her own grave. No I wasn't going to kill her, but she was going to wish she were dead, and him too. I eased myself across the floor, got through the bead-curtain making almost no noise. I got myself down the stairs, out the door, and I was gone. Back at the car I made a couple of calls. thirty minutes later a black van pulled up behind me. A big man came to my window. I lowered it.

"You know what to do, yes?" I said.

"Absolutely," said the big man. 

"You guys are not to do anything else to him. Nothing, got it?" I said. "I want him to live a long and healthy life—well, almost anyway."

"We got it boss. It's a piece of cake. But, what about..."

"I'll take care of her. I have something special planned for her. She's in for the long haul," I said.

******

The three men in the black van were patient; they had their marching orders. They had been selected by Enzo at the request of Max; Max had wanted out of towners for this one, and he didn't want to know who they were; Enzo had concurred with his nephew and had acceded to his request for personnel.

The leader of the little out of town group was Rafael, that's all, no last name; and the first one was not his real name. He'd been selected because of his special empathy with the victim, Max Bertulucci. Rafael's wife had cheated on him and the act had nearly driven him to suicide. His boyhood friendship with Carlo, Max's number one soldier, had offered him a chance to get appropriate revenge on the man that had disrespected him and at the same time a way into the family. He never talked about it, but the rumor was that the disrespecting adulterer had had both of his arms and both of his legs broken. And, there had been an added bonus: Rafael's wife had been forced to watch her lover get what he deserved. 

Rafael and his wife were still together; everything had worked out just fine; the woman understood that she had run out of chances: she never even thought of cheating again.

At any rate, he was more than happy to help another spousal victim with his marital problem; he was simpatico. The difference in the proposed punishment for this new asshole both amused him and gave him the chills.

It was more than three hours later that the asshole left the Bertulucci residence. Rafael saw the woman waving goodbye to him as he headed down the street to his car.

Rafael's two associates were in the street talking near the asshole's car, and when he came near and dug in his pocket for his keys, they threw a sack over his head, knocked him out, and hustled him into the van. They drove off. 

Another car with two men in it drove by three minutes after the van had turned the corner. One of the men got out, got into the kidnapped man's car and drove it off. It would be left in the Electro-Mall parking lot for the asshole to find later. Not a trace of evidence that anyone but the owner had ever been in the car was left for the police to find.

******

"Carlo, Carlo, Carlo you've done well. Let me be miserable in peace," I said to my number one soldier.

"Max, she is not the devil. She thinks you 'betrayed her'. It was the filthbag Williams who caused the problem," said Carlo.

"He'll get his," I said. 'He'll definitely get his."

Carlo fell silent for a moment. He knew that what his boss said was true. They both knew that the bad guy was getting his at that very moment. "You could have just had them hit," he said, finally.

"What they did hurt me, but what they did was not reason enough to kill them. They'll suffer enough," said Max.

"I'd rather be dead than go through what that Williams guy is going through," said Carlo.

Max had to smile. It was pretty heavy what was happening to the guy, he thought. But, he deserved every little bit of it. The things he'd done, and to Ginger, let alone to him personally were beyond the pale. Max felt not the slightest remorse for any of it.

"Your wife thinks you're away until Thursday?" said Carlo.

"Yes, I intend to stay away till then. I want to cool off a little before I talk to her. It's not something I can do while I am still hot under the collar," said Max.

"I think you are right to handle it that way," said Carlo.

Max tilted back his drink draining the glass. He held it high in the universal signal to the bartendress to refill it. Carlo fallowed suit.

The bartendress was Marie Gilson: a slim, blond, blue-eyed babe from Montana of all places. Marie had four boys and a girl, but with maniacal dedication to exercise and good eating habits, she had been able to keep her shape in spite of the mass of birthings and the passage of time: Marie was forty three years old—two years older than Max.

She came to them and refilled their whiskeys. So what's the matter with you two guys? You bonding or something? Don't the girls like you?" she laughed.

"You know, Marie," said Max, "jealousy is a terrible thing!"

"Yeah, I'm jealous of you guys—not!" she laughed again.

The two amigos talked and drank for another two hours before they hit the road.

*****

Thursday morning Max packed his small bag and returned to the house. Ginger would not expect him until nightfall, but he was going to surprise her. It was time to go on the offensive.

When he arrived, she wasn't home. He knew that it was her morning to be shopping at the local food store. He put on a pot of coffee and waited. He figured she'd be in around ten or so. At 10:37 he heard the garage door opener engage. He'd set his order of battle.




The Lieutenant



He was dressed in his good suit. He had a cup of black coffee, newly refilled, on a coaster, on the end table, by the couch where he had taken up his position. Legs crossed, refreshed, he felt—serene.

He heard the screen door to the kitchen slam as she hustled the groceries into the house. He smiled mischievously: if she'd known he was there, he'd have been the one getting the groceries out of the car. This was getting good, he thought.

He could hear her puttering around in the kitchen putting things away, and likely getting things ready for dinner. He recalled how she intended to lay out his options to him today. He figured that that would be something she'd planned to do after dinner; it was her style. It occurred to him that each knew the other pretty well. Well, after twenty-plus years of marriage that was to be expected, he supposed.

The noise stopped. He knew she'd finally noticed the coffee pot on and nearly full. She'd be asking herself if she'd somehow forgotten it and left it on. Then, she'd remember that it had not been her. Then, she'd start wondering and looking.

"Max?" she called out. He decided to answer.

"In here, dear," I answered. I waited.

She came into the front room and looked at him sitting on the couch. He was well dressed and confident looking. It shook her.

"Max! How? When? Have you been here the whole time! You couldn't come and helped me with the groceries, announce your presence. Something?"

"I was just relaxing thinking of the little talk that we're going to have," I said.

"Talk! Okay, I'll say we're going to have a talk. I've been wanting to talk to you for a few days now, really longer," said Ginger.

"Oh?"

"Yes Max. Max, I have a lover, and I want a divorce," she announced. Her confidence had returned.

"Hmm, and why would that be, dearheart?" I said.

His calm demeanor shook her confidence yet again. He was taking things in an awfully blasé way, but she continued. "Well, how about because you cheated on me! How about that?" she said.

"And, why would you think that I had cheated on you?" I said.

"Because you had been seen by two different people going into Colby's Inn on several occasions with that hussy!" she said. 

Two different people? Interesting. But, I had time.

"Really, and just who is this hussy that I am supposed to be fucking? You are accusing me of fucking her right?"

"Yes, and it's Denise North," said Ginger coolly. 

Denise was a secretary at Electro. She'd worked directly for the asshole.

"Denise left town weeks ago. Quit and left town," I said. Suddenly, I had it. The asshole had used Denise, probably fired her, or maybe paid her, who knew. But, she wasn't there to corroborate the truth or fallacy of anything. Neat, I thought. Mr. Williams was nothing if not thorough.

"And if I might ask, who was it that saw Denise and I sneaking around?" I said.

"James Michaelson and Mar..." she cut herself off. "I doesn't matter it was two of them," she said.

"And Mark Williams," I finished for her.

"Well, yes, since you have to know. Your very own boss."

"Boss, yes, but not for long," I said.

"What do mean?" she said. She was beginning to suspect all was not right, that she was the one on the carpet, not her husband.

"Sit down, Ginger. I have a few things to say. When I'm done you can talk, but please do me the courtesy of not interrupting till I'm done. After all, I didn't interrupt you and the asshole today while you were fucking him," I said. 

She almost fell into the recliner she'd been standing in front of.

"Wha..."

"Yes, I was just in there. I heard it all." I nodded toward the kitchen. The shock on her face was precious.

"Okay," I said. "First off, I never cheated on you, not with Denise, not with anybody else. Secondly, you're a sucker. Williams made you believe I'd cheated so that he could get into your pants. I'm not sure where Michaelson fits into all of this, but he's evidently backing Williams, and if he is, he's had it.

"Next: Inadequate? Little faggot? I deserved to be called names like that? Tell me, dear, how long have you hated me?" I said.

She was terrified now. She tried to gather herself. She was searching for words. She was dead-mortal-lead-pipe-cinch certain now that I had seen them on Tuesday. "Well, I admit, I may have been a little harsh..."

"A little harsh! You tore the heart out of me. I have loved you, honored you, protected you; and all you can say is you were a little harsh! I'd say you went a little beyond harsh, dear.

"I am sick at heart from what you've done to me. Now, I would like to hear what you have to say for yourself," I said. I was actually forcing myself to fight back tears. I didn't want to give up the advantage here, but she saw it, and reacted.

"You're telling me you didn't fuck Denise?" she said.

I nodded, I was afraid my voice would crack. 

"But, Michaelson? Your boss?"

"They lied," I said quietly.

She was beginning to think that maybe she'd made a huge mistake. "Maybe I should have asked you, confronted you," she said. "But there were two of them. And, Mark said that there were others—"

"No, there weren't and aren't," I said.

She didn't say the words out loud; she mouthed them: Oh my gawd! Now she was crying. She was at a loss.

I looked at my watch. I'd told Rafael to wait till noon to make the call. It was still a full hour yet.

"Ginger, I said quietly, there will be no divorce. You'll just have to get used to having your little faggot around. You won't be cheating on me anymore, and I mean ever; you won't like it very much if you do. 

"I'm not sure how I am going to get by you disrespecting me like you did; but I'll do it somehow.

"You'll continue being the mother of our children, going to sodality meetings, and being the wife that I 'deserve' not the stupid ass whore you've been acting like this past while. Do you have anything to say?"

She was staring. She was almost catatonic. "Max, I—I—I think that I'm sorry. So sorry. I don't know why I should, but I believe you. But what did he..."

"Hope to gain? The arrogant little shit wanted into your pants, and that's all, and he succeeded. But, he'll pay. I can assure you of that," I said.

We talked for some time, and then the phone rang. "Please get it," I said. "It's Williams. Talk to him."

"How do you...?"

"Just answer the damn phone," I said forcefully.

They talked for about two minutes. Finally, she hung up the phone. "He admits having lied to me. He said he's sorry. Just sorry! He's ruined me—us—and he's sorry!.

"I want you to go to him. Not today, but in a week or so. It will be the last time you see him, but I want you to see him and talk with him. Let him know how you feel. I need you to see him and tell him how it is."

I had an ulterior motive in wanting her to see him. He would be "her" object lesson. It would be one she would never forget.

"Max, about my wanting a divorce..."

"I told you, there will be no divorce, and that's the end of it."

She nodded. She was too unnerved to argue the point, and she clearly didn't want to in any event.

"We will speak of this again after you've done what you need to do," I said. "Don't forget, in a week's time." She nodded.

Nine days later, she made the call to her ex-lover. He sounded strange, but he invited her over.

She'd find him alone in his apartment about four miles up the road. I gave her ten minutes to get there. Geezsus, how I would like to have been there, but that wasn't the plan.

******

She mounted the steps to his second story apartment. She knocked lightly and entered without waiting for him to open the door.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello," she returned.

"My husband..." She took a seat across from him.

"He knows," said Mark. "I'm aware."

"He told me to come here," said Ginger. "I'm not sure why, really. But, he insisted. You lied to me, Mark. You all but ruined my life and his and our children's. That was just plain evil."

"I wanted you, but that isn't even possible anymore. Your husband is a very dangerous man," said Mark.

"You're lucky he didn't beat you to death after he found out," said Ginger.

"Beat me to death? I wish he had," said 

Mark. "What he did to me is far worse."

"Worse than being dead?" said Ginger. "I hardly think so."

"You say he told you to come here to talk with me, but you didn't know why," said Mark.

"Yes."

"Well, he had a reason. I am being forced to be here with you too," he said. "I think it is the second worst moment of my life." 

She inclined her head as if to say she didn't understand.

"I have something to show you. If I do not, he will kill me and all of my family back in Illinois. He is not bluffing.This is the why you are here," he said.

Mark stood and dropped his pants.

"Don't you take your..."

She stopped in mid-sentence. Her mouth hung open, no words escaped. Her face reddened as he lifted his limp cock upwards. "Mark! You're...!"

He started to cry. "I guess I blew it," he said.

******

The phone in the kitchen rang; it shook me out of my reverie. 

She was screaming into it! "My gawd! Max, how could you have done something like this! It's awful! The worst! He didn't deserve this. My gawd!" She settled down but she was sobbling.

"Get home now. Leave him. And, Ginger, yes he did deserve what he got." I hung up.

She was home in nine minutes. I braced myself for the assault. She stormed into the living room; her face was streaked from her crying. I was again seated on the couch. This time I had a straight vodka in my hand.

"Geezsus! you monster," she said. "You castrated him!"

"I was here the whole time," I said. "I didn't do a damn thing, but confront you with your infidelity. And, defend myself against your threat of divorce.

"He on the other hand was rubbing his hands together in anticipation of porking you tonight. You know, during your sodality meeting," I said, about as sarcastically as I could.

Her face flushed momentarily.

"You must have had help, but you did it," she accused.

I just sat and waited.

"You cut off his balls," she sobbed.

"But, I let him live, and his family" I said. "That could change if anything untoward happens to me. Anything!" I said.

Ginger was having trouble even blinking. Her mind raced. If she had been terrified before she was way beyond that now. "Who are you?" she said, at last. "He's a eunuch. What have you done?"

"Who am I? Someone it is not a good idea to mess with. Learn that now, immediately. I am not bluffing," I said.

She was shaking. "No, I don't suppose you are," she said. 

I knew she'd get over it. I also knew that she was not going to be looking for anymore strange either. Not ever.

******

A couple of weeks after the day of reckoning, we were all seated at Uncle Enzo's table. The conversation was light and happy. 

After dinner, he and I were out on the veranda smoking pipes. Aunt Betina would never allow smoking in the house.

"I hear you handled your situation," he said.

"Yes."

"Good. Ginger is a fine woman. But, she's a woman. She needs a man's hand to guide her. Just do your job, and let her do hers. It's the way of nature," he said.

"I understand," I said. And, I did.



The Lieutenant's Adventure



If you are under the legal age of consent in your area (generally 18 years but sometimes as much as 21), or if you are offended by graphic descriptions of sex and sexual pleasure between adults, please do not read further. I fully realize the PREMISE of this story is not original, but chapter one IS loosely based on actual events (minus the mind control aspects). Do not post elsewhere without the expressed, written permission of Samurai Sword. © 2006 by Samurai Sword. All rights reserved.

This partially true, mostly imaginary story took place a few years ago when I was in the Air Force. The names and a few details have been changed to protect anonymity.

*

I was single at the time and had a small circle of friends, both civilian and military. Two of my buddies, Joe and Nick, lived in an apartment complex near the Las Vegas Strip and their place was right next to the apartment's pool. It was a natural place for us to start the partying on Friday after work, and set plans for the remainder of the weekend. A female lieutenant (Monica) and her civilian roommate (Linda) lived a short way down the road, and they often joined us. Monica's fiancé was away going through several months of pilot training at a base in another state.

Monica is the character of interest in my story. She is of Hispanic ethnicity, but her skin tone is relatively fair. She has brown hair, brown eyes, full lips and stands about 5ft 6in. Monica was always an interesting contrast in and out of uniform. In uniform, she always had her hair pulled back very tightly in a bun and her shirt and pants always seemed a bit too large – not baggy, but not form fitting either. In uniform, it was always pants and lace up flat shoes. She never wore a skirt and she never wore heels. This all combined to draw your attention to her face. Now, Monica has a pretty face, nothing wrong at all, but it is not quite the face of a supermodel. The net effect of her in uniform is that she would probably be thought of as "cute" by most people but not exactly a head turner.

Out of uniform was a very different story. When her hair was down, it was long and wavy-flowing and it balanced very nicely with her full lips (which then got a generous coating of sexy red lipstick). She didn't hesitate to wear tighter clothing when we all went out and she always received lots of attention. The first time I saw her out of uniform, I almost didn't recognize her. To put it bluntly she had a rockin' body – medium-athletic frame, killer legs, tight round ass, flat stomach, beautiful breasts (full B or perhaps small C-cup) and a flawless complexion.

Monica and Linda would often join us on Saturdays and we'd all usually go to dinner and then on to some nightclub hopping. When it was just a "guys' night" Joe, Nick and I would frequently start at a strip club and then bar hop. 

One Friday at the pool, Monica and Linda remarked that they wanted to join us on a guys' night and assured us they were NOT afraid to go to a strip club. Of course, we three guys didn't need much incentive. We all agreed to go the next evening.

On Saturday we picked up the girls and headed to Cheetah's. Monica looked awesome as usual. She was wearing a sleeveless white turtleneck. The sweater was very tight and thin and it put her wonderful breasts on good display. She was also wearing tight white slacks and strappy white high-heel sandals. Linda, bless her heart, was a really cool gal, but was decidedly unattractive and plays no significant role in this story.

We entered the club and sat around one of several circular stages. Nick was always quite the skirt-chaser and he spent only a couple of minutes with us before being up and off chatting with different ladies and getting lap dances. Not long after this Joe and Linda figured they were not getting fast enough drink service at our stage table, so they departed for the bar in the corner. This left Monica and me alone at the circular stage. It wasn't an awkward situation but the two of us had always been part of a bigger group and we never talked much one-on-one. Anyway, the drink service that was too slow for our friends was just right for us. The alcohol flow helped keep the conversation going but didn't get either of us beyond a hearty buzz.

Before I continue, you probably want to know what Monica is like as a person. She's a graduate of a prestigious college and her intelligence is obvious once you've been around her for more than a few minutes. She is, however, not arrogant or stuck up about her brains or her looks. She is classy, without being snooty or prudish, and has a good sense of humor. She usually seems to be in a good mood and is friendly and outgoing. Probably her only weaknesses are a tendency to pass judgment too quickly and her voice gets a bit of a nasal or whiny quality to it at times, especially if things aren't going her way. I guess I'd sum it up that she's a great chick with a few flaws – human, in other words. 

As for me, I'm average build and average height with light brown hair and green eyes. Besides, my looks aren't important to this story. What is important is a certain special talent I possess. From around the age of 15 I had been able to, on special occasion, persuade people to do things they wouldn't ordinarily do. Until this point, I had no control over when the occasion struck, how long it lasted, or over whom my talent influenced. The only thing I could do at that time was turn up or down the intensity of my influence. At that time it was somewhat like a broken car radio where I could control the volume knob but not the power button or the tuning knob. When using my power I wasn't inclined to make anyone do anything I thought they would consider immoral or criminal. 

Back to the events, Monica and I started to talk. With a chuckle I asked her, "So, do you let Phil [her fiancé] go to places like this one when you're not around?" 

She replied with a big smile, "He never wants to."

"Never?"

"Nope, I'm all he needs. He's doesn't need to do this."

I tossed my hands up in mock surrender, "Well hey, I don't NEED to do this either. Even when I'm in a good relationship, it's still fun to hang out with the guys and watch women take their clothes off. I'm not meaning that in a bad way. Heck it's a compliment. The female body is beautiful, and I like to admire it."

"Well, I wouldn't stop him from going to a strip club, but I keep him VERY satisfied."

I merely gave her a smirk, "Okay, good for him and you."

Sometime during our conversation, Monica remarked that while she didn't mind staying at the strip club a while longer, she didn't want to be there all night. I told her that was cool and that all I wanted to do was get a lap dance before we left, but that I was very picky. I told her I'd let her help me select the girl and she agreed. This opened the door for me to discuss with her the aspects of each new stripper in terms of her appearance, dancing, and overall sexiness. 

After a few minutes of this I decided to bring up our previous topic, "But even being totally satisfied with the sex in a relationship doesn't mean the guy is then absolutely not interested in simply looking at another hot girl."

"Well, it is with Phil and me."

"You can't be 100% sure he feels that way. Nobody knows all the innermost thoughts of another person."

"I'm sure he's happy and has no interest in going to a strip club."

"Well, I don't agree that you can be 100% sure of all of his inner thoughts, but I'll accept it for the sake of argument. Now consider something else."

"Okay?"

"What if at some point in the future Phil DEVELOPS the fantasy of a threesome? I'm talking you, him, and another girl. Even if you know him now, there's no way you can be positive he won't develop something like that in the future."

"I'm sure he won't. I'm all he'll ever need."

"Okay, but just for the sake of argument, let's say he does acquire that fantasy. Would you help him live it?"

"I can make sure he's happy with just me and nobody else."

I looked at her with a sharp squint and flattened my lips together. "hmmmm..."

Monica's eyes opened wide. "What?"

It's at this point that I throw in a calculated move. A person like Monica who is smart and attractive has a tendency to worry that others THINK she is conceited or arrogant. Now I didn't really think Monica was being conceited; just that she didn't want to address the possibility that Phil might like looking at another girl. But I figured if I let her think that I thought she was being stuck-up, she'd over compensate. I gave her my squinted-eye stare again, "You just think you're TOO GOOD to give a guy a threesome."

I noticed Monica's spine stiffen. "No, that's not it at all. I just know it's never going to happen."

"Well, you say it'll never happen because you don't want to even discuss it. And you don't want to discuss it because you think you are BETTER than doing something cool like that."

"It's not that. I just know with Phil it won't be necessary."

I flashed my best sarcastic grin, "Okay, sure." 

"Sure, what?"

"Well, c'mon!"

"Jake, I don't understand what you're getting at."

"Okay, here it is. I've met Phil. He's a good guy and a normal red-blooded American male. I doubt seriously he's never even entertained the idea of watching you with another woman. Of course he's thought about it. Your position here is unbelievable." 

"Unbelievable? How so?"

"Well, the obvious first. You could acknowledge at least the POSSIBILITY he has that fantasy. Then you could be a cool chick and say you'd at least talk up the fantasy with him."

Monica looked confused. "Talk?"

"Yeah, talk. Tease him with it. Watch some dirty movies with him and pretend you're one of the threesome girls in the movie. Whisper in his ear during sex about how you wished another girl was there."

At this point she was almost speaking in a whisper. "I don't need to do that."

I laughed. "There you go again. NEED isn't the issue. But playing with the idea is what a cool chick would do. I'm not saying you have to follow through with it BUT you think you're too good for any of that."

Monica sighed and laughed nervously, "I'm not TOO GOOD."

I could tell Monica had been kind of enjoying the argument, but it reached a point where she was close to being annoyed with me. So I switched back to talking about the dancers. I'm convinced the timing was fate, because at that perfect moment our lady of the evening stepped onto the circular stage in front of us.

We had been at the club for a while and had observed a number of very attractive dancers. None of that prepared me for what I was about to see. This place has several stages, and the dancers rotated from the floor giving lap dances, then up to the different stages at various points in the evening. I figure lap dances are where they make the real money but stages are where they get noticed. The dancers do the first song on the stage without undressing. The second song is the slow striptease and the third and final song is done topless. All the while the dancer typically works her way around the stage, pauses in front of each patron and usually gets a dollar bill tossed on the stage or under the hip elastic of her g-string in appreciation.

The club DJ announced "Tonya" (probably not her real name) was arriving at our stage. I looked up to see a woman I'd not seen in the club before now. And I would have remembered her! Tonya was in her early twenties, about 5ft 3in, shoulder-length sandy blonde hair, blue eyes, tight body and firm large breasts that I would later discover to my astonishment were real. 

How can I give her description justice? She was very pretty, but not the prettiest girl there. She was quite the dancer, but not the best dancer there. What was it about her? Tonya was one of those women who just ooze "sex" and "fun." Her confidence was apparent. 

Monica and I chatted very little during Tonya's time on stage. I vaguely recall exchanges like "wow, she's good" and "oh, she's flexible." It wasn't until the end of the third song, when Tonya was gathering up her clothes and a big pile of cash from the stage floor that I felt like I was snapping out of a trance. I sensed one of those "special occasions" which allowed me to use my power had arrived. 

Monica and I made some small talk but I knew I had found the dancer I was looking for. We watched another dancer or two and I could tell the time was right. Nick was no where in sight and I knew Joe and Linda were all the way across the club at the bar. It would be easy to get Monica to stick with me.

I said, "Okay, I think I'm ready to make my selection."

"You are?"

"Yeah, but I still need your help -- kind of a 'final approval' if you will."

She laughed and replied sarcastically, "Ah, I feel so important."

"Oh, believe me, you are!"

I stood up, took Monica by the hand, and began walking around the club. I made a big phony show of looking at various women who were giving lap dances. Each time I'd let Monica stand right next to me and see which girl I was looking at. I'd put a skeptical look on my face, turn to Monica and say "hmm, what do you think?" or "ehh, I'm not sure about her." Monica would sometimes make it easy and say "nahhh." For a couple of others she'd say something like "well, she seems okay." I would reply with "Okay, but 'okay' isn't good enough."

Before long we had worked our way around to where I'd seen Tonya dancing. I stopped a few feet away from where the hot stripper was rocking some guy's world. 

I turned to Monica and said, "Now SHE is a solid candidate for the job."

"Yeah, she dances really well."

"There's really something about her."

"Well, it just seems like she'd be a lot of fun for you."

"I agree. She's quite sexy."

"She gives the impression she's always up for a good time, which appears to be very important here."

I gave Monica a wink. "You've sold me on her!"

When Tonya finished her dance, I kept hold of Monica's hand and positioned myself to be in Tonya's path as she stepped away from her previous customer. Tonya looked up at me, over at Monica, and smiled, "Hi."

"I'd really like to get a dance from you."

Tonya gave Monica another quick glance and then looked back at me, "Sure! Let's go over here."

We followed Tonya to an obscure corner of the club. There were two individual padded chairs and a small loveseat type chair. The loveseat chair had deep cushions and faced away from the rest of the club. The individual chairs were occupied by two businessmen who were already getting lap dances and couldn't have cared less about us. Tonya was in the lead, I was right behind her, and I still held Monica's hand in tow behind me. Tonya stopped in front of the loveseat, pivoted towards us and flashed her smile again. Monica and I were still a couple of feet away from the seat at that moment and here is when I felt Monica's hand slip from my grasp as she suddenly stopped in her tracks. 

I turned to see Monica with a look of confusion and uncertainty on her face. I think she was expecting there would be an individual seat for her where she could watch, but not actually be right next to the action. The reality of sitting close beside me for the dance took her by surprise.

I quickly decided it was time to turn up my special power of persuasion a few notches. Without giving her another second to think about it, I wrapped my hand gently but firmly around her wrist. I looked at her with a smile on my face and put on the most care-free voice I could muster, "Ah, c'mon. Live a little!" I turned back towards Tonya and heard Monica utter my name weakly, "Jake..." Paying no heed, I quickly guided Monica to the seat, spun her facing forward, put my left arm around her shoulder and sat us both down. Tonya of course had witnessed the whole thing and flashed me a naughty grin. 

Tonya was now standing directly in front of us. She leaned forward, placed one hand on my cheek and the other hand on Monica's cheek. Tonya's grin turned into a broad smile and she said to both of us, "Cool, you'll like this." Monica still appeared a bit stunned and she was now sitting silently looking from Tonya to me and back to Tonya. 

The DJ started up a new tune. Don't ask me what it was. I don't remember and don't care. Tonya stood up and moved closer to us. Her left leg was between my legs and her right was between Monica's. She slowly began to move with the music and teasingly removed her top. As she did so, I absently began to stroke the back of Monica's neck. Neither of us could stop looking at Tonya. She first leaned into me and placed her lips near my right ear (away from Monica). She whispered in a sultry voice only I could hear, "mmmm, your girlfriend is sooooo hot."

I remembered from a drunken conversation we'd had as a group a few months earlier that Monica remarked she loved it when a guy caressed her face and nibbled her ear. I reached up and turned Tonya's head slightly so I could then whisper discreetly in her ear. I felt my power radiate through my voice. I had never before been able to influence two people at once, but the moment was now. "Her name's Monica, make sure you dance mostly for her. Be gentle. She's never done this." I also quickly relayed Monica's weak points for caressing and nibbling. 

Tonya wasted little time. She made a few more gyrations against me and slid her breasts down my chest. The next thing I knew she had removed her leg from between mine, and was now focusing exclusively on Monica. Tonya slid her right shin up on Monica's thigh, allowing her to lean into and ride her body up on Monica. The two ladies were face to face in close proximity, but Tonya had not yet pressed her body against Monica's. Instead, Tonya first brushed her lips lightly against Monica's cheek. With this subtle contact, I felt Monica's body tense. Tonya slowly slid her lips all the way to Monica's ear. Tonya whispered a soft series of ooooohhh's, aaaaahhh's, and mmmmm's as she simultaneously lowered her body onto Monica's. 

I felt and heard Monica inhale sharply as Tonya's weight became an undeniable presence on her own body. Monica trembled slightly as she exhaled and Tonya began to writhe against her. Tonya's hands were alternately stroking Monica's cheek or gently running through Monica's hair. This continued for a while and Tonya began to let her body ride lower against Monica. As Tonya's head moved below Monica's, I saw Monica's head was tilted back slightly. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was partly open. Her trembling continued.

Tonya turned towards me, her body still pressed against Monica's. As Tonya's head moved down towards Monica's breasts, Tonya gave me a smile and a wink. She moved her hand down from Monica's face and onto the breast closest to Tonya's face. She winked again and gave the breast a light squeeze. Monica once again inhaled sharply and her trembling increased.

Tonya stood up again to reposition herself. When she did Monica leaned towards me with eyes still closed. She began in a ragged whisper, "Jake...I...I..." but I quickly pressed my finger against her lips and whispered back, "Shhhhhh, it's okay. We're just having some fun. Everything's good." 

Tonya leaned down again and placed her hands on Monica's hips. She looked at me, then at Monica and said loudly, "Mmmmm, Monica is really hot!" Tonya ran her hands up Monica's ribs, brushed the outer sides of her breasts and cradled Monica's face in her hands. Monica's eyes were still closed. Tonya rose up, mounted Monica again and pulled Monica's head forward gently towards the dancer's stomach. Monica's head turned towards me and came to rest just below Tonya's breasts. Their bodies pressed together again. Tonya continued to move slowly with the music and caressed Monica's hair and face.