6 comments/  118218 views/  52 favorites

Any Port In A Storm

By: Sir Galahad



It had been raining for three days straight, the unrelenting rain one normally associates with floods that drive the Mississippi over its banks, only not in New York. Computer nerds don’t pay much attention to the weather anyway, except while standing on the platform waiting for a commuter train. As Director of Information Technology, whether it was fair or foul outside made little difference to me.

I was busy configuring a new laptop when the overhead lights went out and the emergency spotlights lit. I ran through the connecting door from my office into the server room and saw the flashing light on the power control panel that told me the office was running off the emergency generator on the roof. I grabbed the phone and punched in the override code that activated the intercom everywhere in the office. 

“May I have your attention, please. This is an emergency. There has been a massive power failure in the building. Log off the network and back up your machines. The servers will be going off-line in two minutes. Move it or lose it, people!”

I cut the servers loose from the network and shut them down. When that was done, I walked to the main part of the office, half-expecting to find a lynch mob waiting for me. Instead, I was met by the CEO.

“Jack have you heard?”

“Heard what, boss?”

“The Mayor has declared a state of emergency. All this rain has overwhelmed the drainage system. Water is shorting out electrical lines all over town, the subways are being shut down and the radio says Grand Central is about to close. The Mayor says anyone who doesn’t live here should go home right away. You better get out of Manhattan while you still can!”

I grabbed my coat and raced to Grand Central Station as fast as I could. I was too late. 

The cops at the 42nd Street entrance told me the electric trains couldn’t move due to flooding in the tunnels and the last Metro North diesels had left 10 minutes before, crammed so full that a passed-out drunk couldn’t fall down before he sobered up. I splashed my way back and climbed the four flights of stairs to the office in a foul mood. 

Everyone had left except Jasmine, our receptionist. She was a few years younger than me. Jasmine was a foxy black chick, cute, leggy and busty, with an acid wit that she used to keep the guys that constantly hit on her at arm’s length. I got along with her because I treated her like a person and not a sex object. She was putting on her raincoat when I squelched in.

“What are you doing back here, Jack?” she asked.

“Grand Central is closed, dammit. The subways are out too. I’m stranded.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Try to get a hotel room, I guess. If that doesn’t work, I’ll have to sleep in my office.”

She looked at me for a minute. “Let me make a phone call,” she said at last. She pulled out her cellphone and dialed someone, walking away from Reception as I pulled off my shoes and dumped the water in them into a potted plant. She came back and said, “You’re coming home with me tonight, Jack. Don’t get any ideas, though. All Lia and I are offering is a couch to sleep on.”

“It’s better than I expected,” I said. “Thanks. If we can find an open supermarket I’ll cook dinner. You like Italian? I do a mean chicken cacchiatore.”

We went downstairs and hailed a cab. On the way to SoHo, Jasmine filled me in on where I’d be staying.

Her grandfather, a half-French, half Senegalaise, had emigrated here after World War II. He’d met and married her grandmother in Washington and then moved to New York. They’d started a little import-export business and bought a couple of buildings in SoHo, an undesirable area back then. They had converted the loft in one of the buildings into an apartment. Jasmine and her older sister Lia lived there rent-free while they went to school and worked in the city. Their folks lived in the suburbs now.

We were traveling along Canal Street. I leaned forward and asked the driver to stop outside an army-navy store. 

“I just want to get dry clothes,” I explained. “I’ll only be a couple of minutes.” She laughed, understanding my reluctance to prance around their loft buck-naked

It took about 3 minutes to pick up a pair of khaki pants, a green T-shirt, some tube socks and a pair of black oxfords. No underwear, but at least the military surplus was dry. I rejoined Jasmine. We continued on to the grocery and bought dinner makings and a jug of good red wine.

An old freight elevator brought us up to the loft. As we walked in, we met a girl walking out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, vigorously drying her hair.

“You must be Jasmine’s stray,” she chuckled, completely unselfconscious. “Hello.”

“And you must be Lia. Hi,” I said woodenly. 

Lia stood five foot eight in her bare feet. Golden-toast in color with straight black hair and shapely long legs, she put me in mind of Halle Berry, only with a pair of boobs in the Dolly Parton range the towel barely managed to cover. Jasmine nudged me with a shoulder.

“Okay, Jack, stop dripping on the floor. Bathroom’s over there and kitchen is next to it, through the great room there. Towel off, change, give me the wet clothes and I’ll throw them into the wash while you start cooking.” 

I walked past Lia like a badly maintained robot and did as I’d been told. A few minutes later I was in dry clothes and learning my way around the kitchen as I got things going. The two girls disappeared into their bedrooms. From conversation shouted between them, I gathered both had dates with boyfriends later.

Dinner was casual, served in the great room that adjoined the kitchen. Jasmine and Lia were in bathrobes, halfway through date-prep. They ate like ravenous wolves and praised my cooking to the skies. After dinner, they dove back into the primping while I did the dishes and settled on the couch to watch the news. It was still raining, with no sign of a letup. Good thing it was Friday; if the rain stopped over the weekend the diesels at least might roll on Monday morning. My musings were interrupted by Jasmine’s whistle for attention.

“Hey, Jack! What d’you think?” I looked up and my eyes popped out of my head.

Jasmine was in tight black leather pants and a red leather top that fit like a second skin, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Lia was wearing shiny black tights and pumps with what I though of as dancer heels, a green and black camouflage miniskirt, and a black silk top with a plunging neckline that made her standing as a member of the taxonomic class Mammalia crystal clear. Her hair shone, dropping straight to her shoulders like a blue-black curtain. Both were made up in the restrained way that manages to gild lilies that need no gilding. Overall impression: lust, drool, lust, drool.

As soon as I could get my tongue to work, I said, “Jasmine, you look absolutely stunning. And the only word to describe you, Lia, is ‘WOW!’ How come I never meet girls who look so good?”

They laughed and dropped mock curtseys to me. Downstairs, a cab honked. Over dinner, they’d agreed to share a cab and went down the elevator to take it. I shut off the TV, put the classical music station on the stereo, and picked up one of the computer magazines I had brought with me. 

I was lying on the couch, deep in an article describing research into nanodrive technology, when I heard the elevator switch on. I looked at my watch. It was only 9:30. What could this be?

Lia got off the elevator and slowly walked into the apartment. Her raincoat was sodden, her hair hung in strings around her face, she was soaked from the knees down and her shoes looked ruined. Streaks of mascara told me that she had been crying. I went to her and helped her out of her coat.

“Lia, what’s wrong?” I asked.

She turned and buried her face in my shoulder, sobbing. I held her gently, patting her back and trying to soothe her. After a couple of minutes, between gulps and tears she told me what had happened.

She was supposed to meet her boyfriend at a hot new club in the meatpacking district. She’d had a couple at the bar waiting for him, but he hadn’t shown. When she headed toward the ladies’ room, she saw him. He was in one of the banquettes on the far side of the dance floor with another girl. He had been french-kissing her and had had one hand up under her skirt. A knock-down, drag-out screaming match had followed that ended with Lia slapping the poachin’ ho-bag across the face hard enough to knock her down and punching her EX-boyfriend in the gut so hard he’d dropped like a poleaxed steer and puked all over her shoes. She’d grabbed her coat and made it three blocks before she’d started to cry. She had walked back all the way from the club.

“Two months I’ve been going with the guy, and he pulls this on me!” she said, sniffing back tears. “I’m done with him. What a loser!”

“He has no idea what he’s missing,” I agreed, stroking her hair. “Some people don’t know good when it’s right in front of them. He’s a fool in every sense of the word.” I tipped her head up and said, “Go get out of those wet things. I’ll hand you in a towel. Go on, now.” I gave her a gentle push towards her bedroom.

I hung her raincoat next to mine in the kitchen and brought Lia a towel fresh from the dryer. I knocked on her door and, eyes closed, opened it and reached the towel in. I felt her take it and closed the door before retreating to the great room. I got the wine and two glasses out. I had a feeling Lia might want a drink.

A little while later, I heard footsteps in the hallway. Lia walked into the great room and came toward me with a runway model’s strut. She had dried and brushed her hair and scrubbed her face. She was still wearing the silk top and the miniskirt, but was bare-legged and had changed into a pair of black stiletto heels that brought out the curve of her calves. She changed the radio to a smooth jazz station, crossed the room, poured two glasses of wine and handed me one.

“I don’t want to drink alone, Jack, okay?”

She sat next to me and tossed back half the glass in one swallow while I sipped at mine, unsure how to react. I looked at her cautiously. She caught me at it and burst out laughing.

“You look like a puppy dog that isn’t sure if he going to be kicked or not. Relax. I’m not mad at you.” 

I stayed where I was, in the middle of the couch. She chuckled and patted the cushion right next to her, taking another sip of wine.

“I know tension I see it. Slide on over here and I’ll give you a shoulder and neck massage. Don’t worry, I won’t bite.” She patted the cushion again.

I eased over and settled beside her. She touched my shoulder and I jumped, spilling wine down the front of my shirt. Lia snorted.

“Put down the glass, clumsy, take your shirt off, and let’s try it again. I’d rather work on bare skin anyway.”

Flushing red with embarrassment, I handed her the wineglass. She put it on the endtable. Lia took hold of my shoulders and I jumped again. She laid her right leg across my lap to hold me still, her miniskirt hiking up to micro-mini length. My hard-on started to grow, but if she felt it she gave no notice. She started to work on my neck and shoulders.

Although it felt good, I couldn’t relax and enjoy it. I was painfully aware of her. Beads of sweat started on my forehead. Here I was, in proximity to a stunningly gorgeous woman, and I was afraid to move, much less make a move!

Lia must have felt it through her fingers. After five minutes of firm, steady massage she stopped and half-turned me so she could see my face.

“Jack, I swear you’re even tenser now than you were before. What’s your problem, for heaven’s sake?”

You really want to know, Lia?” I asked. She nodded. “It’s two things. 

“First, I think you’re one of the sexiest women I’ve ever met, but I’m afraid to try and start anything because I think you’ll deck me if I dare to touch you, much less kiss you.” She watched my face, her expression unreadable.

“Second,” I went on, “you’re a black chick. A gorgeous black woman,” I hastily amended. “I’ve never been with a black woman, but I’ve heard the stories. I’m scared I just… won’t – measure up, and I wouldn’t want to disappoint you,” I finished in a rush. I turned my head away, expecting either to be shoved away as unclean or slapped for my presumptions.

Nothing happened. After a few seconds, I felt Lia’s gentle fingers turn my face back to her. I opened my eyes. The look on her face was tender. She stroked my chest and I was glad I hadn’t skimped on my schedule at the gym.

“You’re sweet, Jack, but you don’t know anything about women. I wouldn’t have offered to rub your neck if I wasn’t interested and if I didn’t want you to touch me.” She took my right hand and laid it on her left breast. I could feel her nipple under my fingers.

“And as far as measuring up – “ Lia slid her hand into my slacks to find my cock, caressing it and feeling it erect in her hand. “Don’t believe everything you hear. It feels to me like you’ll measure up just fine.” Her hand started to move slowly on my cock.

We leaned forward and our lips met. Hers opened under mine, her tongue probing into my mouth as I returned her kiss. My left arm slid around her back, drawing her closer while my right hand gently squeezed her breast. She moaned softly and arched her back, pressing her tit harder into my hand. I slipped my hand to her waist and up under the blouse, her skin hot velvet under my fingers. I found her nipple and brushed my thumb over it as I cupped her cantaloupe-sized breast and squeezed very gently. Lia moaned again and broke our kiss, throwing her head back.

“Go ahead, baby,” she whispered hoarsely. “Suck ‘em. Suck my tits. Bite my nips. Go on. Twist ‘em, pull ‘em, lick ‘em, whatever you want. I love it. They’re all yours, baby. Use me.” She pulled my head down to her massive bosom, moaning in need.

I pulled the blouse out of her waistband and up above her breasts. She let go of me and yanked it off over her head, leaving her awesome boobs exposed for me, lifting them to my lips and repeating urgently, “Suck my boobies, baby! Suck ‘em!”

I dove down and seized her right nipple in my mouth. The plum-colored nipple was stiff, like a long pencil eraser. I sucked and nibbled on it. Lia pressed my head down while my right hand latched back onto her left tit and twisted the nipple roughly, feeling it harden even more. I pulled on it and at the same time caught the right in my teeth and sucked air in past it. Lia’s back arched and she groaned.

“Yes! That’s it! Don’t stop, lover! Bite ‘em! Maul ‘em! Don’t stop for anything! Hurt me! Make me cum, stud! I love it!”

I didn’t stop. I kept on, pulling, twisting, easing up, then coming back harder. Lia was panting, her eyes closed, her hands coming up to push those massive mounds together, her long nails digging into her sensitive tit-flesh. I shifted my grip and released her right nipple; she growled in protest. Ignoring it, I opened my mouth as wide as I could and managed to suck both swollen nips and a good amount of her aureolas into my mouth, whiplashing my tongue frantically across them as my hands squeezed her breasts even harder.

Lia shrieked, “Y-e-e-e-s-s!” as she came. Still sucking on her nipples, I dropped my right hand to her silky thigh and slid it up to the junction of her legs. She wasn’t wearing panties. I could feel the wetness of her climax as I covered her mound with my hand, feeling for her clit. I found it and stroked it with my finger. She pressed herself against my hand and I introduced her cunt to first one, then two and finally three of my fingers, finger-fucking her thoroughly as she humped against my hand and my thumb brushed her love-button.

“Oh God, you’re killing me!” she panted. “Don’t stop… don’t you dare stop… aaiigh, it feels so good… don’t stop… ohhh… ohhh… ohhhhh, cumming again! AAAHH!”

She let go of her breasts and pushed my hand into her as far as it would go. I felt her nipples soften and go slack as her body went rigid and she screamed in orgasm. She fell back limp on the sofa and I eased away from her. Exhaling deep gasps of pleasure, she reached up and grabbed my hand.

“Oh no, you don’t. I’m not letting you get away so easily, Jack. We’re just getting started, you pale stud.”

“So you think I might measure up?” I asked cockily, bringing my right hand to Lia’s mouth. She took the three fingers I had used to finger-fuck her and slowly, sensuously sucked them clean, tasting her own juices as I sat back down and caressed her skin.


“I want you inside me,” she said softly. “I want you to fuck me, Jack. I want your white cock. Let’s move into the bedroom.”

“But what if Jasmine comes home and catches us?” I asked, pulling my black beauty to her feet. She put an arm around my waist and I reciprocated. She kissed my cheek, her eyes bright.

“She won’t. And even if she did, A) it’s none of her business; and B) if she wants to share, she’ll have to ask. Or isn’t having two sexy girls, ready and willing to do anything you want, every male’s secret fantasy?” We walked toward Lia’s bedroom, savoring our skin-to-skin contact. 

“Only in my more foolish moments,” I admitted. “Fantasies aside, there isn’t a man alive that could satisfy two foxy girls like you. I’ll be content if I can manage to please YOU tonight.” Lia turned into my arms beside her big, inviting bed and kissed me again, her talented tongue teasing mine and starting my erection to rising again. 

“You have, baby. Oh yes, you have. And there’s lots more where that came from,” she whispered. “Let’s get naked.”

I stepped away from Lia and knelt to take off my shoes and socks. Standing up again, I unbuttoned my pants, let them fall to the floor, and stepped out of them. Lia looked incredibly erotic standing there topless, her huge breasts inviting caresses as she stood hipshot for my inspection. My cock, already hard, stiffened even more as I put my hands on her miniskirt and unfastened it. She wriggled out of it, and I slowly slid it down her brown legs. She stepped out of it and put a hand on my head to brace herself; but when she would have taken off the black stiletto heels she was wearing, I stopped her.

“No. Leave them on, sugar. You’re sexier that way.” She straightened up again, her hand lightly brushing my hair, her eyes closing in anticipation.

I kissed my way from her knee up her leg, running my tongue along her thigh and continuing to her pussy. She kept her bush well trimmed, with the lips shaved or plucked clean so as not to interfere with a questing tongue. She was already wet, and her breathing quickened as my tongue found her outer lips and slowly traced them before moving higher to her clitoris.

I was pleased to see Lia had an unhooded clit. I had long nursed a theory that women whose clits did not have to be coaxed out of a hood were much more responsive and eager for sex, and much faster to cum, than their less fortunate sisters. My field research tonight indicated I might be on to something. 

Lia gasped as I gently sucked her clitoris into my mouth. I ran my tongue slowly up and down the shaft, avoiding the supersensitive tip for the moment. I could feel the shaft hardening as blood flowed into the tissues, marking her arousal. I nibbled at it; Lia’s hands pressed my head into her crotch. She began to purr as I continued to work her clit.

“Ohh, baby, that’s sooo good… I like it… don’t stop!”

I pulled back and replaced my tongue with the edge of a fingernail. Lia jumped a little and whined, but only for a moment, because I had something else for my tongue to do. I traced her labia with my tongue, tasting her dew and taking my time. They got wetter as her body responded to what I was doing. After a couple of minutes of this, I curled my tongue and drove it between her pussy lips, holding it straight and nodding my head up and down so it moved up and down the length of her cunt. Up and down, from clit to base, over and over.


Any Port in a Storm



(Author's note: I'm revisiting this story to add back in the deleted sex-scene, which is mostly my own imagination, because so many readers felt this story was like birthday cake without the ice cream. If you like the newer version, or not, please comment.)

*

This is one of those stories that could have started with "I have a friend who ..." or perhaps "Once when I was young ..." However, neither of those is strictly true, although this story is essentially factual. The names have been changed to protect the innocent or guilty; take your pick which applies. This is not my story, but rather the story of one close to me. I have pieced this together from comments and a few shared secrets from the lady in question and from her husband as they try to get past these times and these events. All this took place more than a decade ago and you will surmise, dear reader, that some of this has been filled in from my imagination, as I could not have witnessed the specifics, nor were those details shared with me. Other parts of it, are right on the money, and if not in the proper sequence, are as complete as my knowledge allows.

The lady of this tale is called Katherine and during this period her live-in boyfriend was Daniel. I say lady with the greatest love and respect because she is exactly that, a lady of the highest order. She is soft spoken and loving to a fault. She cares deeply for everyone around her and cannot love in half measures, but rather throws her entire soul and being into any relationship. During the years she spent with Daniel, I saw her change from a modest and circumspect woman, very demure in her dress and manner, to one quite bold and provocative. I concluded that she had grown out of her childish modesty into a normal sexually active young woman. I tried to like Daniel, although he seemed beneath her. I guess my reaction was normal for one in the role of parent; you always want the best for your child, but a grown child makes his or her own decisions with little regard for your wishes. It's only recently that I learned that what I could not warm up to in Daniel was the tiniest part of many things that I detest with every fiber of my being.

Kati was always the most precocious of my brood of four, perhaps it was her tawny red hair or her startling green eyes, but privately I think it was her quick and eager mind. If she had just spent half the energy that she devoted to taking the easy way, the fun way, to more serious pursuits, then life would have been a breeze for her. Instead she partied and played fashion plate and dated bad boys. She was working at Knockers, the beer and pizza joint with the one-size-fits-all tees and shorts the waitresses were required to wear when Daniel and his buddies picked her table. Later, Daniel would often comment about how well Kati's uniform fit her. The standard "small" shorts and tees would have been cute on her petite frame. I say "would have" because, like most of the Knocker's girls, Kati had implants, and the full D's looked huge on her 32 inch chest. Knocker's made no bones about exploiting its all girl staff.

It wasn't long after when nineteen-year old Kati and Danny decided to share an apartment together. This was also when we began to see less and less of her. It seems that holidays were always with Danny's folks or there were jet skis to ride or a trip to the mountains or some other activity that my life partner and I were not to be a part of. Kati accumulated more cute, but borderline-sluttish outfits. She had her belly button pierced and later her tongue. She even commented that the tongue piercing gave her something to do besides eat and she hoped it would help with her dieting. Kati was still looking for the easy way it seems. I later overheard her telling her younger sister, "Guys love tongue toys when you go down on them." I was biting my own tongue not to admit that I had heard and I secretly rejoiced when hers came unscrewed and she swallowed it. The tongue is a healing place and a hole only stays open if you keep it constantly filled, so this at least was a passing fascination.

During these early stages of her relationship with Danny dark clouds began to appear. We were on a shopping trip and I offered to buy her some darling little boy cut panties which she dismissed out of hand with the remark, "Oh, I've stopped wearing underpants, Danny doesn't like them!" I again bristled at Danny's controlling ways, telling myself that Kati was old enough to make her own decisions and live by them.

Knocker's was a pathetic excuse for a job. Each server was responsible for the tab for all assigned tables, even though entire parties frequently exited the door right past the hostess. While the server was back in the kitchen picking up an order or doing a thousand menial tasks like uncapping their beers or dumping their dirty dishes, they could make a hasty exit and her pay would get docked

The first cracks in Kati's happy-go-lucky demeanor began to appear just after her twentieth birthday. She complained about Danny, saying only that no one knew what she had to put up with. Danny was too demanding and too typically male, but this was not unusual for Kati's standard volatile relationships with men.

What she did next shocked me even more. She decided to dance in a topless club in Dallas (about fours hours drive away) and swore me to secrecy that I would not tell her biological father. What can one do? If I had forbade Kati to do this, she would have rebelled and done it anyway. I opted instead to keep her secret and helped her with stage clothes and actually made a visit to the club when she was performing to make sure everything was legitimate. Kati seemed to grieve over this decision to perform. Certainly the money was good compared to Knocker's, but she seemed to have to psych herself into doing the degrading job. She would drive out on Friday afternoon to dance from 8 PM to 4 AM, crash at a cheapie motel, do it again Saturday night, then drive home and crash again. One of the other dancers, Suzie, also commuted to Dallas and she and Kati became cohorts in crime. Suzie eventually relocated there and Kati often made use of Suzie's couch instead of the $29-a-night place. This also allowed her to grab a few hours sleep before hitting the roads on Sunday morning, which helped everyone's stress level, including mine.

I first met Suzie the night I dropped into Zillionaire's and sat at a table in a dark corner of the smoky club. The smoke was so thick in the place and the lighting was so dim, I wasn't even able to pick Kati out at first. The fact that she was smoking a cigarette and had her back to me didn't help. Also, I would have never guessed it was her in that bizarre black vinyl outfit that seemed to consist of strategically placed dog leashes wrapped around her body above the connected thong. I later learned that the Dominatrix getup improved her tips significantly and that it actually belonged to Suzie. The dancers frequently traded makeup, insider information, and costumes and discussed how to "skin the fish" more effectively.

A patron of one of these clubs is a "fish", if he tips with dollar bills; he's a "skate", obviously reference to "cheapskate." If he tips with hundred dollar bills, and there were plenty of those in Dallas; he's a "whale". Anyone in between was a "shark", something to be approached with caution, lest it bite. I also learned that these clubs are full of shrewd women who mostly dislike the customers and regard it as a game, where your take home cash is your score and you lose points for doing anything that doesn't keep the money rolling in. Texas permits full nude dancing, but that involves steady payoffs to various local VIP's and ultimately the operating expenses are passed along to the dancers. Therefore, most of the clubs are strictly topless and each club has it's own set of rules and standards.

Suzie was a veteran at the young age of twenty-two. She was a voluptuous blonde with sparkling blue eyes and a cute turned up nose. She was a naturally curvy girl that you'd expect to see captaining the high school cheerleading squad (she done that) or running for senior class president. She was the perfect girl next door, save that she had scars under her arms from the implants and that she'd spent a good portion of high school on her back or knees or other fun positions. She was a very practical, very sexual, very self-assured woman, and Kati's friend and confidant. It was Suzie that tried a few nights at the nudie bar and pronounced it "bullshit". "Christ," she reported to Kati, "there I was balanced on the back of a chair so this shark could look INSIDE me, and all for the same lousy twenty bucks. Keep your t-back on Kati, the tips are just as good and you don't risk breaking your neck."

Each club had a back stage "Mom" that helped the girls dress and kept a modicum of peace, but she was paid 10% of the tips. The club took another 20% of the tips, to cover security and DJ's. Dancers bought their own drinks and food. Of course, a dancer made fifty cents on each drink the customer bought at five dollars a pop and which was essentially colored water. Dancers collected $2 for a bottle of champagne and nothing from going into the VIP room. The club got $150 for that, and the dancer got $50 from the customer. Did I mention that you had to hire two dancers to go into the VIP room and you had to buy two $50 bottles of champagne? Ah yes, the money rolled in!

Dancers love to foster the image, which is, of course, part of the tease, that table dances are more intimate upstairs (a semi-private area) or in the VIP room. Security monitors the upstairs area directly and the VIP rooms via closed circuit TV. It's actually club rules rather than state law that dancers must have something over their pussies and nipples. Zillionaire's required you to sign up to dance in rotation (pay that DJ) and otherwise you worked the tables. Dancers wore lip-gloss on their nipples and t-backs on the bottom. A t-back is an opaque thong, nothing translucent, nothing sheer. The dancer can move it around, even hold it out for the insertion of a bill, but brother, you weren't going to see the goods. Customers could never touch the dancers, although the dancers touched the customers. All of this was intended to control the situation. The dancers love it when a customer breaks the rules, because then they can get irate and get a bigger tip. If security steps in, then they get tipped bigger still, or you get ejected from the club. 

Each set consisted of one dance in your dress or something that more or less passed for street wear, then during a 15 second pause you unceremoniously removed your street wear and danced a second song in your t-back. There was no stripping to it; just one dance with your breasts exposed (with lip-gloss) and one without. If a customer approached the stage, the dancer humped an imaginary partner or worked the pole, or brushed his crotch. She would typically whisper something like, "I like you, do you want a table dance?" and then shake her boobs in the fish's face. When things got slow, one dancer would come up to tip another, this time with actual kisses, actual gropes, and other contrived actions to simulate a Lesbian encounter, because this invariably improved the score.

It was Suzie that helped Kati perfect her act, nuzzling her glossed nipples and groping her pert behind theatrically. Kati often traded back with Suzie, so no net money changed hands although a twenty or fifty was passed back and forth. All of this was part of the gimmick or "twist" in dancer-speak. It was all designed to keep the fish in the frying pan, to send them home light in the wallets and blue in the balls. Unaccompanied women were not permitted to be guests in the club, so the rare woman customer was typically a girl friend or wife indulging her partner or her own curiosities. The no touch rule for female customers was rather like the ploy between dancers, with one tiny exception; the guests weren't in on the ploy.

Kati was watching from a table as Suzie expertly worked the stage when a thirty-something woman in blue denim shorts and a midriff Daisy Mae blouse approached the with a dollar in hand. Suzie immediately went into her over-the-top theatrics and kissed the woman firmly on the mouth. Kati stifled a smile at Suzie's boldness and mentally logged an entry for "female fish". Kati was sitting to Suzie's left and the frumpish blonde with the emerging cellulite had her ample ass to her loud and boisterous friend at the table. Suzie dropped her lips to the woman's neckline and started the typical scene, but this one went suddenly further. Suzie extracted the blonde's large left breast free of the bra cup and immediately covered the coral nipple and areola with her rapidly suckling lips. After a second or two she replaced the breast and rearranged the woman's clothes, before taking her tip and sending her off with the titty-shake and a whisper to the ear.

The blonde, now glowing, sat back down with her date and when asked what had happened clearly responded "Oh, she was tickling me between the boobs." They departed soon afterward with the lie apparently accepted and no one the wiser, save Kati from her advantageous angle. The wheels were turning furiously in her head, because of the way Suzie had caressed the woman was thrilling and interesting in strange and compelling way.

The dressing room chatter sounded like the female version of a men's locker room after a winning football game. This is not to say that there was not petty jealousy and a certain amount of cat fighting and vindictiveness. Things disappeared from lockers, costumes accidentally got things spilled on them. A dancer kept her take with her at all time, often trading in small bills for larger ones through the Mom. Where does one keep the money when all you have on is a t-back? The answer is obvious, and that is yet another reason why a fish never sees what a girl has in her panty. Of course, if you have been drinking a bit too much, trying to bolster your courage, and you momentarily forget that you have half a dozen hundreds in your crotch when you stop to pee, and don't remember it until after you flush...

* * * * *

Kati came out of the stall, suddenly sober and crying miserably. "Kati, what's wrong, honey?" Suzie asked, taking her friends hand. "Are you sick?"

"No, just stupid and drunk. I just flushed six or eight hundred dollars down the toilet. God, I'm such a failure at everything" she sobbed.

"Don't worry about it, it happens to everyone one time or another. Someone's always out to fuck you, and failing that, life will find a way to fuck you. Stop crying please, I did OK tonight and I'll share with you. You're still sleeping over before you head home aren't you?"

Kati suddenly staggered, the weight of the world and the impact of the alcohol making her head throb. "No, I'm going home right now!" This was false bravado, of course, because Suzie was practically holding her up. Also, Kati had parked her Eclipse at Suzie's apartment earlier that evening, and left her keys on the breakfast bar. At a minimum, she had to ride back to Suzie's place in her Camaro. The world lurched again and Kati realized with horror that she'd not made her final deposit of the evening in the stained bowl of the dressing room's single commode. As she knelt on the dirty floor, half naked and vulnerable, vomiting up drinks and club food, Suzie held her hair out of the water and gently stoked her bare back.

When she finished, Suzie had a wet paper towel ready to wipe her face. Suzie quickly packed both their athletic bags with the dancers paraphernalia. Kati peeled off the rest of her costume, slipped into her jeans and her sports bra and sweater. By that time Suzie was dressed as well and had the Camaro at the side door and their bags safely stowed in the back seat.

She drove carefully through the dark streets, still holding Kati's hand and after a few moments, nosed into a space at the local all-night pancake joint. Kati followed meekly in Suzie's wake and collapsed into the booth feeling wretched. Suzie slid in beside her and ordered coffee and scrambled eggs for two.

Before Kati could protest her lack of funds and her lack of appetite, Suzie was forking eggs into her mouth and ordering her to eat. Kati chewed and swallowed almost without thinking, her brain just starting to emerge from the haze and incredible tiredness setting in. Kati warmed to her friend's mothering ways, grateful for once to not be making decisions, for just a while to not be responsible if things didn't work out.

By the time they returned to Suzie's apartment, showered, brushed their teeth and donned pajamas Kati was starting to feel coherent, and thoroughly despondent. Emerging from the bathroom in a long pink tee with a kitten on the front she was surprised to see Suzie bending over the bed arranging pillows. Suzie's shaved slit peeked between her pink thighs when her yellow baby doll rose. The surprise was that Suzie was obviously setting the bed up for two and the couch was covered with laundry and both of their athletic bags. Again, Suzie pre-empted her protests by saying, "Look, there's plenty of room in here and after the night you've had you shouldn't be on that rotten sofa. Besides, I thought we might have a little talk, if you are up to it."

Kati meekly sat down on the edge of the bed and Suzie knelt at her feet and took both of her hands. Suzie's blue eyes were full of concern and compassion as she looked up at Kati's and asked, "How long have we been friends? Don't you think it's time that you trusted me?"

And with that it spilled out of her, all the vitriol, all the poison. Kati had never wanted to be a dancer; that had been Danny's idea, even her stage name, Dani, was homage to him. Danny was a wannabe Dominant, and Kati submitted to him in ways that degraded her. She'd caught Danny cheating, and not only with women. Each time she had forgiven him, each time he swore it was his last. Their lovemaking had been so sweet in the beginning, so wonderfully naughty. Danny had tried to do anal on her, but it hurt her terribly. Danny was a veteran, and one evening she pushed her right fist into his anus and stroked his penis with her left. That had been strange but it was an experiment to be tried on a lark. Except Danny had wanted more and more. Danny had gotten along so well with his boss at the advertising agency. They were invited to a weekend at his house on the lake. Except Boss and Wife were swingers and they'd loosen up by skinny-dipping first. Kati had demanded that Danny take her home and had packed their things. Then Boss had entered the bedroom and said "You owe me a blow job, my wife is downstairs giving Danny one right now." Again Danny had promised, had sworn this was the last time, but it never, never was. At the worst point, Danny had brought a girl home and fucked her right in their bed with Kati watching and fondling the girl's breasts.

Suzie had listened to it all, holding Kati's hands as she sobbed out her story. The lights had been dimmed and in the tiny hours of the morning Kati at last unloaded her dark burden. Suzie helped her friend into bed and slipped in beside her, cradling her in the crook of her arm. She murmured softly, "There, there, it's out now Kati. It's OK. We all do crazy things for the people we love, even if they don't deserve it, even if it breaks our hearts." Somewhere in the middle of all of this Suzie had kissed her forehead. She had tasted the salt of Kati's tears and added her own to them. Kati, lying down, felt the soft patter on her cheek and had reached up in affection and compassion to stroke Suzie's cheek. This seemed to make Suzie shudder and suddenly Kati realized that Suzie was wound as tightly as a coiled spring. She just had time to whisper, "What is it, Suzie?" when the answer came in the form of Suzie's moist lips pressed against hers in a chaste, though rapidly deepening kiss.




Any Port in a Storm



Suzie was on one elbow, leaning above her in the darkness, and their breasts were barely touching through their nightwear. Suzie's left hand was gently stroking Kati's right cheek just as Kati's right hand was stroking Suzie's left cheek. Suzie had slightly smaller breasts, in far better proportion to her intermediate ribcage, but she had generous aureoles capped with pebbly nipples. These nipples pressed against Kati's more abundant breasts like twin embers, radiating a clearly defined heat and state of arousal.

"Suzie, you know I love you ... but I'm straight. I wouldn't do this, not even for Danny."

"Yes I know you are, but I have to say this. You don't have to do this for Danny or for me, just for your own secret self. I won't expect anything, just, let me make you feel good for a while. Let me hold you and keep you warm and safe tonight, because I am your friend and I love you, too."

Suzie was expertly kissing her, not as any male lover had, but not like any woman had previously either. Her kisses were soft and gentle and there seemed to be none of the rush. Danny hardly kissed her anymore except for a quick public peck or one of those urgent, tongue in the mouth kind as he drew her hand to his erection. With Suzie, it seemed there was all the time in the world. Kati found herself thinking, "This is why women have sex together, it's the kissing they understand." Suzie inhaled Kati's breath and exhaled warmth and sweetness against her skin. The kisses were definitely not the sisterly kind, but they held hope and promise, not just persuasion and self-serving urges. Suzie's tongue was a tiny hot spot flashing over Kati's teeth and sometimes meeting hers as hesitantly as a virgin, perfect in every way, as if Suzie was hearing Kati's own thoughts. Kati giggled in spite of herself and she could see Suzie smiling by the faint light penetrating the curtains from the street lamp. Suzie whispered, "It's OK, sweetie. Of course, we know how to do that better than guys."

Suzie seemed to savor every sensitive spot on Kati's face and find new ones she didn't know about. Leaning in over Kati in the darkness with their lips brushing or in full contact, Suzie gently stroked the front of her neck with butterfly wings or reached behind her to explore the crease at the back. Suzie's fingers seemed to trail fiery sparks over her skin, bringing it to full and complete sensitivity. Her whispers in Kati's ears were always encouraging, completely chaste and unbelievably sexy as again and again she verbally echoed Kati's thoughts. Kati floated on a cloud as this incredible young woman gently led her by the figurative hand into this perfect, blissful state.

Suzie's choice of nightwear was a short yellow baby doll sans panties, which meant that no matter how she moved, she seemed to be an erotic goddess totally without inhibition. As Suzie's lips drifted lower, she whispered, "It's so nice and warm here with you, how can you stand that thick cotton gown?" Before Kati could protest, she found herself lifting her bottom and raising her arms to assist as Suzie tugged it up, then over her head and finally off her trailing fingers. She folded it carefully and put it in the chair. Of course, what little Danny allowed her to wear to bed was always balled up and tossed in the corner. This was a minor irritation, but it also meant that every outfit had to be washed after one night in bed. Kati reached out to her friend in the darkness, to maintain contact while she was sitting up and felt Suzie's fingers instantly intertwine with hers. As Suzie returned to her position leaning over Kati, she drew her fingers up and kissed them individually. Danny sucked her fingers and toes sometimes, but then she had to suck ... well she drove that memory and it's sometimes sour scent and smell from her mind. Suzie gently covered her fingers, even the web between with soft kisses.

Suzie pressed her breasts against Kati's; her breasts were softer as she had only gone up a cup size to Kati's two or three. Kati also had some wrinkling and some obvious scars under the curve of her breasts. Those were to have been at the cup line, but when Danny urged her to go larger, then the lines ended up on the underside of her breasts and she felt so ugly. Whenever she was away from Danny she slept in a sports bra, mostly to conceal them. In fact, her breasts were so tight they hardly moved or changed shape, even lying on her back as she was now. Suzie was kissing her shoulders and her hands were on Kati's ribcage and brushing against the underside of her cups. They'd seen each other hundreds of times on stage, between sets, applying the lip-gloss to their nipples, but no dancer openly stared or commented on another girl's boobs unless it was to say "Who did your work?" or "Those are great, my guy was an idiot".

Suzie exited the bed momentarily and Kati heard her fumbling for her lighter, thinking it an odd time for a cigarette, but Suzie was actually lighting a small candle. She looked down at Kati in the soft yellow glow, tracing the fine spray of freckles over her chest with a fingertip as like she meant to connect the dots.

You always sleep in this, Kati?" she asked, gently fingering the elastic lace straps.

"When Danny's not around. I hate my scars" she said, biting her lip and nearly tearing up again.

"Shhh ... you silly, wonderful girl. Don't you know you have the best boobs in the club? Besides, whatever you have, it's a part of what makes you that special person you are. The fish don't notice the scars with those big nipples of yours in their faces, and as a committee of one, I think your breasts are completely beautiful." Could I look at them now, in their natural setting?"

"Well, it's not as if you haven't seen them before. I guess I could go one night without". Kati crossed her forearms and drew the bra up and over her head, folding one cup inside the other and laying it atop her nightgown. This left her clad in a simple, white bikini panty. She was shaved smooth as Danny required and probably would have had to do for the club anyway. Suzie seemed to have a tiny tuft of natural blond hair just at the top of her slit, but that was very discrete and her fine hair almost blended in against her bronzed skin.

Suzie was staring rapturously at Kati's nipples. "Oh, how lovely" she sighed.

"Stop that, Suz, you're making me blush" Kati replied, her voice uneven and her bravado quite tenuous at this point.

"You've nothing to blush about, hun, if I had those, I'd be topless all the time. They're absolutely exquisite." Kati glanced down and noticed that Suzie's smaller areolas were crinkled into short, pebbly circles around her eraser hard nipples. Even through the fabric of the baby doll she could see how erect she was, how pronounced. She glanced down at her own breasts and was surprised to see that hers were also erect, something that only happened to her right before her own orgasm, which was usually when she masturbated in the shower after Danny was already sound asleep.

Suzie leaned forward and gently kissed first her left and then her right nipple and Kati was about to protest when Suzie drifted up her collarbone and the underside of her neck to find her lips again. With the prospect of another extended session of Suzie's exquisite kisses she relaxed and opened her mouth eagerly. Suzie's left hand was flat on Kati's tummy, making small circles, drifting up underneath her breasts. She didn't squeeze her like Danny did, but her touch was heat and Kati's inhibitions were wax. Suzie was panting softly into Kati's mouth and deliciously sucking her tongue when Kati became aware of the ache. It seemed to be in the pit of her stomach and radiated outward. It was a slow, delicious, all-consuming fire that radiated from her navel in all directions. She realized that she was sawing her thighs against one another and her pussy was exuding an aromatic wetness. She realized that her nipples were aching between Suzie's clever fingers as she rolled them and drew them into points.

"Just a bit further" Kati mentally promised herself, "I'll give her just a bit more time so as to not offend her."

By then Suzie's lips had found Kati's very erect right nipple and had sucked both it and the areola and a considerable part of the breast into her hungry mouth. Kati was also surprised to find her own fingers curled in Suzie's short hair, caressing the back of her head and gently turning her this way and that to enhance the sensations. She reached out with her left hand, intertwining her fingers with those on Suzie's right hand and felt the combined arrangement draw up between them, Suzie's index and thumb tweaking Kati's left nipple while Suzie's right nipple brushed across Kati's knuckles through the thin layer of yellow cotton.

Kati's wasn't sure how long this went on, perhaps it was all a dream, albeit a very erotic one but at some point she would have sworn she'd nodded off. She was going to do something wasn't she? Tell Suzie it was nice, but it had to stop? When she was sure she was conscious again Suzie was kissing her deeply and their tongues were dancing. A couple of times one or the other of them had broken of the kiss to gasp in a few quick breaths of sexually charged, aromatic air before they resumed the dance of tongues, teeth and lips. Kati was writhing up against Suzie in a feverish state, one that had surpassed her most fervent masturbatory desperations and rivaled the sweetest lovemaking with Danny or her few other partners. Some part of her was saying that this was impossible and absolutely could not be happening, and yet it was, and even so she felt incapable of stopping it, even if she had wanted to. But she did want to, didn't she?

When Suzie began to kiss her navel and stroke the soft curve of her stomach the heat seemed to descend with her. Her pussy was definitely wet and pungently aroused now, there was no getting away from that. As Kati's resolve crumbled, she struck a new bargain with herself, whispering within "I'll just lie here until she's finished, I've faked it with Danny enough times, and there's no need to hurt her feelings." Then she added, "This will just be between me and my diary" and "everyone is entitled to a bit of experimentation."

When Danny had gone down on her it was a quick assault on where he assumed her clitoris was followed by the immediate insertion of his middle finger. She'd found that by taking hold of his hard cock and gently tugging him upward, he needed no further urging to go for the main attraction. In three minutes it was all over, except for washing up in the bathroom, which always took an hour or so to make sure Danny got to sleep and she got relief. Suzie presented a problem, for starters she had no convenient handle to reach for. The other problem was that Suzie was reading her mental mail, and doing everything, EVERYTHING, perfectly.

Suzie nuzzled her face against the wet crotch of Kati's white bikini. Had there been more light, it would have been nearly transparent with Kati's juices. Kati wasn't sure if it was all Suzie's tongue or if part of it was that long nailed finger that she trailed down her slit through the thin layer of nylon, but whatever it was, it explored every contour with the sureness of an expert guide who knew every step along this particular path. Kati's outer labia were small and tight, her inner ones normally compact and hidden away until she was aroused. She'd begun using tampons almost immediately at thirteen and she'd inherited her mother's cramping and five day periods. Her mom had always said, "You'll make perfect babies" but this was small consolation for those torturous days. Every lover she'd ever known had commented on how tight she was, even when wet, and her stock answer was "but honey, your cock is so huge" and this, of course, placated them. Suzie was immune to these ploys and was gently and sensuously stimulating with the long experience of a proud pussy owner who had, no doubt, explored more than her own. Suzie was a mixture of playfulness and heart-stopping sensation as she drew her fingers? Tongue? Up and down Kati's petals and brought them to full blossom.

She seemed to suck Kati's right outer labia into her mouth and nibble gently from top to bottom, drawing the folds of Kati's panty crotch tight to the swelling fold of hot flesh. Then somehow, she grasped the left one at the bottom and reversed the trail upwards, her teeth grazing Kati's button and causing her to shiver like a scrap of newspaper in a Texas wind. In Kati's mind, there appeared a scene she often thought about in her solitary trips to the bathroom late at night. One of Danny's porn movies included a scene in a gynecologist's office and the "patient" in the scene had this tiny, tight slit, just like Kati's. When the "nurse" licked her open, her inner labia bloomed. It appeared to Kati, that the woman must have had a huge clitoris, for as she became aroused a kind of fleshy tube appeared between her outer folds and pointed to her inner ones. This tube seemed to begin at the very top of her cunt and pointed down to the opening, like a third, central lip. At it's extreme tip, the exposed button was the size of a dime and seemed to guard her entrance, or perhaps it stood there seeking the tribute of touch from any flesh or object that expected to have the honor of entering her body. Kati often thought of this scene just as she reached climax, pushing the third finger of her right hand into her body curled around the tip of her diminutive clitoris. She'd used a hand mirror thing many times and only under the most extreme prodding and tugging did she see anything at all, and that was a tiny pink ball the size of a bb. Other that her self-delivered orgasms, she had no evidence of even possessing a clitoris. She secretly cursed whatever power that had apparently given that other woman and her the same pussy, and then cheated Kati with this almost non-existent clit and these half-measure, hard won orgasms.

Whatever the size or configuration of her own love button, Suzie seemed to have known exactly where to locate it and the perfect pace and pressure to capitalize on the hidden treasure. What Suzie knew and Kati did not was that Kati's own juices, sopping her silken crotch, and gliding over the little knob was the ultimate frictionless pressure. Suzie knew that she had only to slide that square inch of dripping material over the little guardian to send Kati over the edge into sheet-ripping ecstasy. She therefore did exactly that, gauging the pace of her ministrations to Kati's sharp thrusts and hearty grunts.

At some point, Suzie had slid down along Kati's lower body to lie with her tummy and legs on the bed, more or less on top of Kati's until she decided to open them. As Kati's breath became more frantic and her sighs turned into urgent moans, they seemed to part of their own accord and Suzie settled lower against the mattress. She adjusted as Kati moved, slipping her arms under Kati's thighs when she could and wrapping them around Kati's legs, always moving her face up and down on the ridge and valley now so clearly defined in the dripping silk. Sometimes she slid one hand under Kati's bottom, gently rotating her upward, at other times she stretched her arm to fondle one of Kati's bouncing breasts or to interlace her fingers with Kati's. The message was always the same, verbal or non-verbal, "I'm here for you. I only want to make you happy."

Kati's world seemed to turn into a pounding heartbeat. Her body was thrusting without any will or control she could exert, and Suzie was squeezing her hand or her aching nipple on the same tempo. Kati drew up her fist and crammed it against her mouth and tried to stifle the scream that was building. She only screamed once in a while when her self-efforts were most successful or her needs most piquant. Even in this Suzie was there, drawing her hand down to kiss it and whisper hurriedly, "Don't worry, he can't hear you."

Suzie opened her mouth wide, placing a ring of teeth around Kati's covered mound and flicked her tongue across the tiny bulge that was her apex. Kati's hand gripped hers desperately and she gave a long, shuddering rasp of bestial urgency.

"Oh my God.. ohmigod.. ohmigod..... eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh"

Every sinew in Kati's body snapped to full attention and she almost levitated from the bed, despite Suzie's weight on her. She lay there in the flickering candlelight wondering whether it was the candle or some trick of her vision, but she was giddy and quivering in post coital bliss. Almost instantly, she thought "Oh, I'm a complete slut, I've just had sex with a woman" but before she could follow that depressing train she felt Suzie rise and kiss her deeply. The next thought completely washed away her regret as she surrendered to Suzie's ministrations "I won't think of anything else, as long as she doesn't stop kissing me." Suzie enveloped her in her arms, stroking the small of her back and calling her "baby."

Kati's kisses were still sweet, but now they carried a different flavor, one slightly salty, and exotic, like some rare fruit. It was only after Suzie slid lower that she realized she was tasting herself from the mouth of her lover.

She looked down into Suzie's eyes as she lay with her chin in on her hands on Kati's tummy. Suzie's smile was something between the Madonna and the Mona Lisa, perhaps with a dash of Cheshire cat thrown in for good measure. Suzie's blue eyes seemed to glisten all out of proportion to the available lighting and Kati realized that both of them were shedding happy tears and basking in the closeness of the encounter. Kati's breathing was slipping toward normalcy as she pondered what had just happened. She always privately felt that her orgasms were like mountain climbing, that is, a tremendous amount of effort just to attain that pinnacle, and then you couldn't stay very long at all. Although she was familiar with her body's responses to stimulation, Suzie seemed to have found a new, quick path to the top, and the view from up there was incredible to say the least. Suzie had delivered with all the subtlety of a locomotive, that is, none at all. It had just happened before Kati could say anything and it had been irresistable.

When Kati did find her voice, (which was breathless and quivery because she felt like complete jello, like what she'd once heard described as a 'puddle of girl') she began thus, "Oh Suzie, I had no idea that it could be so overpowering ..." Suzie again reached up and put her fingers across Kati's lips with a "Shhh ... you don't have to say anything."

"But I ..." and again Suzie's fingers found her lips. "Raise up" she requested as she folded one of the snowy pillows in half, and when Kati did she slid it under the small of her back, slightly elevating her hips off the bed. When Suzie's hands withdrew, somehow they'd become entangled in the elastic band at the back of her simple white underwear and was drawing them down over her thighs. When Kati opened her mouth to protest, Suzie filled it with her lively tongue and then drew her foot up and caught the bridge of cloth near Kati's knees and forced it down the rest of the way. Suzie's mouth was inescapable, it seemed to swallow up all of Kati's resolve and answer every question before she could get it out. Their breathing began to take on that familiar, pulsating rhythm and Kati revised her previous analogy to include staying on that breathless height longer than she'd previously imagined. When Suzie slid lower, it was with genuine regret on both of their parts.

Suzie cupped Kati's breasts together, forcing the nipples to nearly touch and kissing and sucking them both at the same time. Kati began to find her voice in new and unexpected ways, moaning softly and panting out "oh's" and "ah's" like a complete glutton. When Suzie slid even lower and began to touch her smooth, untanned mound, Kati was shuddering with joy and wondering if this particular mountain had a higher peak than she'd previously explored.




Any Port in a Storm



Suzie switched tactics and began to speak softly and erotically to her. What she said was incredibly corny, something that Kati might have laughed at, under any other circumstances, but now it thrilled and excited her.

"Your exquisite little cunny is delicious and beautiful, darling."

And

"Oh, what a beautiful treasure you have here. It's such a lovely shade of pink. No artist could do that color justice"

And

"My God, how soft and succulent these petals are. You shame every peach that's ever grown."

Suzie was pressing down with her left fingertips just above Kati's slit as if she were looking for some special point, and keeping them there to mark it precisely. She inverted her right hand and slid her two middle fingers into Kati's hot core, hooking them upwards and moving with firm, ever deepening strokes. Her pinky finger was stroking across the puckered ring of Kati's anus and her thumb was busily nudging her clit to four points, up, down, left, right, in no particular sequence. The pad of that thumb would press against her button and the nub would roll away and the thumb would pursue. The sensation of pressing against and releasing her clit was indescribable, and before she knew it, Kati was hearing her heart pounding again, like a huge drum, drowning out every other sound in the world.

"You have such a sexy little pussy, you do know that, don't you, Kat?"

And

"I know you've heard a thousand times how great a fuck you are, but you are just so incredible I had to say it for the thousandth and first time."

Kati was rasping responses of "Oh, Sweet Jesus" and "You have me so excited". Her voice cracked at the end, speaking in an eerie falsetto that sounded perilously close to a scream.

Thus encouraged by Kati's chorus in response to her melody, she escalated the opus even further. Her right fingers drove deep, always curved upward toward Kati's tummy and with the heel of her left hand she began to bear down at the same time. This was why she'd so carefully positioned her left hand just under the pelvic arch. Kati's front wall was being methodically squeezed between the two hands, squeezed like a ripe orange, although the target was much smaller; a quarter sized spongy bundle of nerve endings on Kati's vaginal wall.

"Your pussy is like a furnace, you won't burn off my fingers, will you, lover girl?"

And

"I adore how you writhe when I drag my thumb across your clitty. It's so engorged right now, it looks white hot next to your fabulous coral fuck hole."

Kati was panting frantically and hooking her hands into claws to grasp the sheets. Her head tossed from side to side and at times she tried to push Suzie away, to make her abate her onslaught long enough to let her breathe. The pleasure boiled out of her steaming core in electric waves that seemed to go to every corner of her body, even the ends of her hair or the tips of her curling toes.

"Oh fuck ... I can't take ... nuhhhhh... fukkkk..... my God.."

"Please.. I'm begging you...."

But Suzie pressed on relentlessly, mouthing every obscene word that she could think of, pressing Kati and giving no quarter, her elbow stroking like some berserk machine in and out of Kati's snatch.

"I .. oh.. aieeeee.....I ... can't... unnnnn...... fucking... take... ohfuckingjesusgodfucking..."

And then Kati was swept away on the beat. She arched like a bowstring and Suzie took both of her hands in hers as she sprayed an arc of clear fluid over Suzie's face and body, instantly rendering her yellow gown as wet as any t-shirt contest she'd been in. A tiny portion of that arc landed in Suzie's mouth and when she kissed her friend she shared the sweet saltiness of this most intimate encounter.

Kati was not aware of Suzie blowing out the candle or stripping off her wet gown to lie down beside her. She fell into a deep dreamless sleep and woke to the sound of birds and the smell of coffee, and of course, she was naked and so sticky. She was alone in the bed and Suzie was, judging from the sounds, showering.

* * * * *

Suzie made one final request of her friend as she stood holding her hand while Kati lingered in the parking lot beside her Eclipse. She asked Kati to leave Danny, to move in with her, to be where Suzie could care for and protect her. Kati kissed her friend deeply and with complete love and respect, but said that her place, at least for a time, was with this terrible man that she loved.

Suzie, ever the free spirit, laughed and said, "Yes, I thought so, but I had to ask anyway. It's like that joke, what does a Lesbian bring on the second date? U-haul."

Kati was still laughing when she left Dallas that last time. It wasn't until she pulled into her own driveway that her smile faded. But late at night when she went into the bathroom by herself, new visions carried her on soft wings to paradise. She no longer questioned what Fate had or hadn't given her, she just remembered those sparking wet blue eyes, and the soft cocoon of a perfect, endless kiss.



Any Port in a Storm



All Characters are to be viewed as over the age of eighteen.

Copyright 2008 by madengineer3, All rights are reserved! This story is not to be copied or circulated except by madengineer3 or by means of the Literotica website, and under Literotica's rules.

*

For all of those who have spent time on the ocean it is obvious that if a major storm is about to catch you, it is wise to find a sheltered port within which to anchor. The same can be said of people who are in immanent danger. They will often turn to even a stranger to provide safe shelter. This is a story about a woman and child who found shelter in a refuge that was stronger than they expected.

Mary Jones was just twenty two. She had suffered a violent rape at the hands of a young thug named Phil Brown. He did this to her when he was seventeen. He was an arrogant and ignorant disgrace to humanity. But, because of his age, a grandfather that was a state senator and a father who was the local town justice of the peace, he had been given three years in a juvenile facility. 

The trial had been held in the county's family court. The judge was very good friends with the boy's father and grandfather. The boy had been given a virtual slap on the wrist. If he had been tried in any other court, in any other jurisdiction he would have been tried as an adult and given at least twenty years in the state pen. You see, he hadn't just raped Mary, he had also sliced into her body hateful words and symbols. He didn't slice deeply, but the scars would likely be with her the rest of her life. 

At the end of the trial Phil had told Mary that when he got out he wanted to see her again, to talk over his stay in jail. He was smart enough to not make it sound threatening. No one could prove that he was threatening her. But she knew, from his look, that he was going to come after her when he got out of the juvenile facility.

Phil Brown was born into a very wealthy white family. He had always been given anything he wanted. When he did things that hurt other people his family either bought their silence or threatened the hurt people with legal harassment and frivolous lawsuits if they tried to press changes.

Mary was an orphan. She had been sent out to live on her own when she reached the age of eighteen. She found work as a waitress at two different establishments. By serving on different shifts she was able to afford a very cheap room and enough food to live on. Mary's ancestry was African. This was in a town with only two black families. 

In her work as a waitress she met an old lady, named Isadora, that she especially liked. It wasn't that the lady tipped well or offered anything to her. It was because the lady treated Mary as a lady; a person who mattered. The old woman always called her by name. Mary liked that.

Mary had reached her eighth month of pregnancy. In the restaurant, the old woman spoke to her. 

"Mary, how will you handle having a baby and work?"

Mary looked down at the floor and said: "I don't know. I have no family and no financial support so I may be forced to go on welfare. I don't want to do that but may have no choice."

"You didn't choose this pregnancy, did you child?"

"No, it's the result of a rape."

"You didn't abort the child?"

"No, it wasn't the child's fault. I couldn't do that."

Isadora was silent for a moment. Then she said; "I may have some help for you. My family owns the house that I live in. It is very old and has many rooms that I do not use. How about moving into one of my rooms rent free. After the baby is born and you are able to go to work again I can watch the child for you. It has been many decades since my children left my house. It might be nice to hear happy sounds again. Please think about my offer and let me know if you are interested."

"I wouldn't dream of imposing on you. There would be dirty diapers and such. Also, I don't have any medical insurance. I don't even know how I'm going to deliver this child."

"Mary, in my youth I worked at times as a midwife. I have delivered more children that I can count. We can do this without any doctors and hospitals. We just won't have a standard birth certificate."

"If you really want me to move in with you, I would be honored. You have no idea how much your kindness means to me. It is as if you were an angel sent by God."

"You know, Mary, the word angel simply means messenger. Many times in life you will meet an angel and won't even recognize him or her."

"I have one practical question. Do you live near enough to where I work so that I can get to work?" 

"No, I don't. But, I like to drive and can make sure you have transportation. Do you have a driver's license?"

"No, I've never had the chance to learn. I have a lot of areas where I am somewhat behind everyone else."

"Don't worry child. We can make it work."

It was two weeks later that the move to Isadora's house was completed. Mary had never seen a house like this before. It was set back in a large grove of trees about a hundred yards off a small secondary road. The house was miles from the nearest neighbor. It had a sort of old, creepy feel to it. It all but oozed a certain "strangeness" that would be obvious to almost any sensitive person. 

In spite of the house's strange look, the room that Mary had been given was warm and friendly. The house was nicely decorated, but with some very strange objects. There were assorted glass prisms, sphere's, and strange pictures on the wall. These objects all looked to be very old. The furniture all looked like it had been made in the 1920s.

There were no radio, no television, and no computer in the house. 

Mary was awestruck with the contents of the house and overwhelmed by the kindness of Isadora. Within a week or so, Mary had her daughter. She named her Isadora after the kind woman who had taken them in. It was shortly after the birth that a stranger arrived. Her name was Grace. As it turned out, Grace was Isadora's granddaughter. Both Isadora and Grace were happy for Mary. They came up with what turned out to be a good idea.

Isadora spoke first: "Mary, instead of working at the restaurants again would you consider working for us? It would involve cooking, cleaning, and generally helping around the house and yard. We will pay you half again the salary you got from working as a waitress and you will be near your child; like you should be."

"You mean you would pay me to stay here? It sounds too good to be true."

Grace responded, "My grandmother is not very young. She also lives alone most of the time. It will be good for her to have company. She is also very gifted in some very old arts that you might even like to learn."

"What kind of arts are those? Do you mean like painting or weaving?"

"No, but I can show you one of them." Grace led Mary to a room that she had never been in before. 

There were shelves loaded with old bottles with hand printed labels that were mostly in Latin or some other language. There was a massive bookshelf that contained all sorts of books on arcane subjects. As Mary would eventually learn, many of these books were written in foreign languages and many were not printed, they were hand written. There were also strange lamps and very strange cooking implements that were not kept in the kitchen area, but were on shelves. Grace went to the shelf with bottles and took five bottles from the shelves. She took down a mortar and pestle and ground some of the contents of three of the bottles and then added a few drops from each of the other two other bottles. The mixture smoked a bit and had a smell that wasn't too bad, but wasn't overly good either.

"Now, Mary, look at that nasty scar on your left hand. Do you really want that scar?"

"No, but plastic surgery can hurt and it costs money."

"What if I told you that I can remove that scar in under a minute and it will never come back again?"

"How could you possibly do that?"

"Watch!"

Grace took a silver spoon and took a small amount of the liquid and a funny looking stick and walked over to Mary. 

"Don't be afraid,, this won't hurt at all."

Truth be told, Mary was a bit uneasy with what was going on.

Grace carefully put some of the mixture that she had made on the scar, said a few words that Mary didn't understand and touched the scar with the funny looking stick. 

The liquid suddenly glowed a deep violet that shifted into a gorgeous purple. In seconds the liquid was gone; and so was the scar! 

Mary was almost in shock. "What just happened? The scar is totally gone! How did you do that?"

Isadora smiled and gently said, "It's an old form of medicine. Almost no one remembers how this art is done, and I am learning how to do it from Grace. She is an expert."

Mary's mind was reeling a bit after this demonstration of power over scars. She started to consider that maybe she didn't know what was real anymore. "If this is real, and it sure looks like it, then much of what I have learned in school is not at all real."

"Well put, Mary, well put. Much of what you have learned is not real. For example you look at that table and believe it is solid. But it isn't. If you were to gather all the 'stuff' that makes up that table in one place (which, by the way, you can't do) you would discover that almost all of the volume of that table is a vacuum, nothing, zip, nada! There are other things that most people 'know' to be true that aren't. Unfortunately, most people are not decent enough to be allowed to learn some of these arts since they could use them to do very bad things. There aren't many of us who still have the knowledge and skill to do this. We think that you have the ability to learn this art. It will take decades, but it will be worth it. Are you interested?"

"Yes, I think so. When can we begin?"

"Tomorrow I will get a simple introductory book for you to learn. It is in English. Later on you will need to learn a few more languages because some of the later work is only to be found in tongues that are not used much anymore."

Grace led Mary into the living room and said: "Now, why don't you go in, feed the baby, and get a good night's sleep. Grace and I have some things to talk over."

Mary did as Isadora suggested. After breast feeding the baby she went to bed.

************************************

Grace opened the conversation. "I know that you need to talk. What is the problem."

"Phil Brown, the monster who raped Mary and then cut words and symbols into her skin, is going to be getting out of Juvenile Hall next week. His relatives have gone to great length, and expense, to get his sentence commuted. He has threatened to find Mary and make her pay for testifying against him. His family has a lot of clout in the area. I'm not sure what we should do to prevent him from hurting Mary, or any other person."

"Hmmm, that is an interesting problem. We could make him disappear, but that would be noticed. If we treat him like we treated that crooked lawyer Mike Murphy we could put the fear of Aziel into him. Or we could mess with his mind so that he will be certifiable to be put away in a prison for the criminally insane. What had you thought of?"

"Well, making him disappear permanently seems a bid drastic, after all he hasn't killed anyone, as far as I know. His mind is indeed twisted. If we could put him over the edge and at the same time show that he is a danger to society as a whole we could arrange for a trial in another jurisdiction. But, I think Aziel is the best answer. Nobody would believe him if he told anyone what he had seen. However, there is a problem with any of these solutions. If he starts to act unlike he has ever acted before, his family will realize that something is wrong. If they then try to get him professional mental counseling he will tell the story in detail and there will be an investigation." 

"Grandma, I think we'd be better off simply introducing him to Aziel and putting a spell on him that will give him incredible pain if he starts to approach any woman. We could also use a permanent spell of silence. We can instruct Aziel to hurt him if he speaks about, writes about, or in any other way tries to communicate about what happened to him. How would that be for poetic justice?"

"That sounds good."

"Grandma, I think we will get Mike Murphy to draw up and execute an order of protection that prevents Phil Brown from getting within a hundred yards of Mary. If he gets the order from the superior court judge in the city the local justice of the peace won't be able to do anything about it. It might be just the trick to force our young criminal to go after Mary simply because he has been told that he can't do that. Since he will be told the locations that he must stay away from, he will know where she lives. I think we can start with that. I also think it is bedtime for both of us. I'll talk to you in the morning. I love you grandma."

"And I love you Grace."

The following day Grace went to Mike Murphy's law office. 

"Hi Mike, you remember how we helped you get rid of the crooked mayor, judge, and police chief; right?"

"Yes, Grace, I remember. Why do you bring that up?"

"Well, I need a small legal favor. I need an order of protection drawn up and executed here in the city. The actual protection will happen over near where we live."

"Wouldn't it be easier to go to the local magistrate and have it issued there?"

"No, the local justice of the peace is the father of the no good kid, and the kid's grandfather is a state senator. It has to be done by a real judge that the local magistrate cannot intimidate. Our new judge in town used to be the states attorney general. He knows the law and isn't easily intimidated."

"Hmmmmm, from your description I think I remember reading about the case of a little monster named Philip Brown who should have been given twenty to thirty years in the state pen. Is this the same kid?"

"You have a very good memory Mike. Yes, that is him. My bet is that when he is told that he can't come after Mary, who is living with us, he will do it just to show that he can do what he wants. Then, we can introduce him to Aziel."

At the name Aziel, Mike involuntarily shuddered. Mike had also met Aziel. Nobody in their right mind wanted to meet Aziel if they didn't have to; unless they had power over him."

I'll draw up the papers this afternoon and speak to the judge tomorrow. I will quietly clue him in on why I am filing it in his court instead of your local magistrate's office.

By the day after tomorrow we will have the signed court orders. I will pay to have an off duty sheriff's deputy deliver the papers to him, and include a copy to the local magistrate. Is that o.k.?"

"Yes, Mike, that is very good. What is your standard fee for doing this kind of work.?"

"Normally I get about $150. for doing this, plus another $100 to cover the cost of hiring the sheriff's deputy. But, I'll do this for you, free. The case of Philip Brown runs against all I now believe in. He has abused the law and hurt innocent people."

"Mike, you have come a long way in the last few years. It seems like you have indeed changed for the best. However, I insist on paying for this. It is necessary that the fair price be paid so that there will be no question regarding who is responsible for the order of protection."

********************

Philip Brown was lounging in the living room of his parents house when Sheriff's deputy Miller knocked at the door. Philip's father answered the door, and after a moment called Philip to the door.

"What's this all about?" were the first words from Philip. The sheriff handed the paper to Philip, and said: "I am serving you an order of protection. You are to remain at least one hundred yards from Mary Jones, under penalty of law. There is a second copy of this for your local magistrate."

Turning to Phil's father he handed him a copy of the document. "Please look at the name and location of the judge. You will notice that just a few years ago he was the state's attorney general. He was famous for breaking up criminal activities of those who abused their legal power. He doesn't frighten easily and he has great political clout."

"Why are you telling me that, officer?" Queried Phil's father. 

"Off the record, there are people high up in this state government who have been very unhappy about how your son was treated after this rape and mutilation. There are many state officials who believe that the family court judge, and yourself, should be arrested for malfeasance. But again, that is off the record."

The sheriff left.

"Phil, I want you to stay away from that girl. If you break this order of protection I probably can't help you out. For once, you need to follow the rules. If you don't, I will have to side with the authorities if you are caught. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yeah, you're chicken. I owe that bitch for ratting me out. One way, or another, I'm going to get even with her, and you can't stop me."

"Son, I'm warning you; stay away from that girl. We've done all we can about this problem. I am not going to go to prison by helping you on this one. You are on your own."

"Fine, I can do that. Just stay out of my way!"

It was later that evening when Phil went out for a drive. He slowly went down the road that fronted the house where Mary lived. When he looked at it and realized that it was very isolated he was overjoyed. The power came from a pole on the road and fed the house by means of six poles. The phone line was also on these polls. Best of all, the electric meter was on a stout post next to the end of the driveway. In bad weather it was probably too hard to get in to the house to take a reading. 

As Phil drove home he was already seeing how he would do this. If he arrived at, say two in the morning, nobody would recognize the fact that the power had gone out. They also would not notice that the phone didn't work until it was too late. Yes, this would be very easy and he would make her suffer for testifying against him.

****************************

Mounths had gone by since the scar had been removed from Mary's hand. She had been avidly reading the book that Isadora had handed her. She now knew that the medicine that had been used was indeed magic. She had never believed in magic, until that moment. While she was learning from the book, Isadora was teaching her some very basic spells. Thus, the practical and theoretical education was under way. 

"Mary, Grace and I want to do some advanced magic to protect you and your daughter. It will require three drops of blood from each of you and will involve meeting a very strange and powerful being. Will you trust us to do this for you?"

"What do I have to do?"

"You will join us, inside a circle in the back yard. None of us, including the baby, will be clothed. There will be a fire and some incantations and the appearance of something beyond your wildest imagination. The thing to remember is that the thing you will see is Grace's servant. Do you think you can do that?"

"Yes, I'll try. It sounds intimidating."

"That is an understatement. We have introduced grown men to our servant, Aziel. When they were done most of them passed out from fear. But, in your case he will become your bodyguard. He can be around and not be seen unless he wants to be."

"I'll try to do as you say."

That evening they planned on doing the ceremony before their evening meal.

"Remember, we are dealing with very old magic here. This particular type of magic is best done as seldom as possible, due to its danger."

"Danger!", Mary said, beginning to look even more concerned.

"Yes, danger. This magic opens up a tunnel, so to speak, between a world that is in a totally different dimension than our own. That is why scientific measurements can't detect the spirits. When you open this type of tunnel you don't want to open it into the wrong 'other dimension'". If you were to do so it could be the last magic that you ever performed. We will follow the ancient procedure to the letter. You just need to stand between Grace and me. And you must not say anything! Not even a single syllable. Do I make myself clear?"




Any Port in a Storm



She indeed had made herself clear. "Let's go outside and join Grace. She is already sky clad, which is the term used to describe magic that must be done in the nude."

We removed all of our clothes. "When you walk into the circle, Mary, do not step on any of the lines drawn on the ground."

Grace made a small incision in her left hand and allowed a few drops of blood to fall into the silver chalice which she was holding. Next, Isadora had a small cut made on her left hand, and her blood was mixed with Graces. Mary and the baby also donated three drops each. When the baby had stopped crying from the discomfort of the prick to her finger; Grace started the incantation. The first thing Mary noticed was the fact that the nice little wood fire had just changed to a dark blue flame traced with light blue streaks. A heavy mist has risen. The mist, however, is only at the edge of circle that they drew on the ground. Inside the circle it is clear. The fog changed in color. It is now slightly greenish. Mary saw that something was taking form directly over the fire itself. It stepped out of the fire and onto solid ground. It was obviously a male since it was sporting a gigantic erection. 

Grace walked over to Aziel and took the end of his monster penis into her hands and mouth. She sucked him off. The thing's breathing changed now. It was coming in raspy gasps. Suddenly there is a bellow like an angry elephant, and the big black thing has opened its eyes. He looked satisfied,

Grace was speaking to him in a language that Mary didn't recognize. The thing was looking from her to me, and then back again. Suddenly Grace is speaking in English again.

"Mary, hold out your left hand.." She held it out, and the five pointed star appeared on her hand. It looked like liquid gold. "Aziel, this woman and her child are to be protected as you protect us. Is that understood?"

The thing didn't look happy but nodded its head yes. 

I'll let you decide how best to help them, as long as you do not hurt them. Is that understood?"

Aziel nodded his head yes, again. "Good, look at your hand Mary."

Mary saw that the pentagram on my hand had changed to a metallic green color. She then looked at her daughter's hand, it also bore a metallic green pentagram.

The two witches made a few more comments in that strange language and just as fast as a stroke of lightning the mist was gone, the fire was a simple fire, and Grace was talking.

"Very good. Now, let's get our clothes and get inside for some supper." 

Once the baby had been put to bed they all sat down for supper. Grace said: "We need to return thanks for this food. Please bow your heads.". 

"Blessed art thou the King of the Universe. You bring bread from the ground and all good things to us. We, your servants bless your Holy Name."

Grace then turned to Mary. 

"You are probably wondering why we invoked Aziel. You see, we are setting a plan in motion to get Philip Brown to come here after us. Isadora and I have been protected for a long time. You and the baby had to have that protection too. It is impossible for almost anything in this world to hurt you now. If you are shot at, the bullet will disappear on its way to you. If someone swings a knife at you one of several unpleasant things would happen. They might just suddenly not be there. The knife might hit an object harder that it is in mid swing. The knife might suddenly be gone, along with the hand that was holding it. 

Any way, you and your baby are now protected."

"Grandma, how is Mary doing in her studies?"

"She's a natural. She usually could do the simple spells and wand work we started on her second try. She also remembers the information. It's as if she were recording what she has learned. Her recall is excellent!"

"Good, if she's a natural at this there is a somewhat advanced spell that I want you to teach her. I want you to teach her the binding charm." 

"Are you sure? I only learned that two years ago."

"Yes, but it may be necessary for her to prevent Phil from moving. We want him to meet Aziel, and for that to happen we need him here."

The following few days were spent with Mary learning the complicated binding charm.

***************************** 

Philip Brown had been laying his plans carefully. He had found out that there were no routine sheriff's patrols that went by the house where Mary was living. He had also found out that almost nobody ever visited that house. Philip wasn't sharp enough to notice that the people he had been talking with seemed a bit nervous when he mentioned the house in question. 

Phil decided that this time he would bring pole climbing spurs and belt, night vision goggles, rope, a pistol, a knife, and a can of gasoline. He planned on binding them, torturing them, and then burning them alive. Yes, that ought to balance things out nicely.

He purposefully waited for three weeks after the order of protection had been served before putting his plan into motion. 

On the chosen night, Phil quietly left the house at about one in the morning. He had parked his car a block over so that his parents wouldn't hear the engine starting. 

Twenty minutes later Phil was at the power pole that fed the house. He carefully cut the wires from the transformer to the house. There was now no power and no phone connection to the house. 

He congratulated himself that they were now at his mercy. (As if he had any mercy.)

He went to the house and tried the front door. It was unlocked! As he was congratulating himself for his good luck, he tried to quietly open the door. He didn't know about the tall stack of empty tin cans just inside the door until they made their awful racket as they fell to the floor.

As soon as he heard the noise he ran into the house wearing his night vision gear. He suddenly realized that there were doors to many rooms, and he didn't know which one contained the girl.

Just then Mary called out, "Is that you Isadora?". Now Phil new just about where the voice had come from. He ran to the door, and threw it open. He saw the girl standing there holding a thin wood dowel and saying something he didn't understand. 

The next thing Phil realized was that he had fallen on the floor and landed with his face down. His nose was bleeding. As he tried to get up he suddenly realized that he couldn't move.

"Let me go! You'll pay for this!"

What he heard was laughter from two people. 

"Well, well, well look what we have here. I think our rat trap has worked!"

"How are you tonight Philip? Are you feeling a little bit down, perhaps?"

Again there was laughter.

"You women have no idea who you are messing with, let me loose."

"No Phil you have absolutely no idea who, or should I say what, we really are. You are here for a little bit of re-education. The classroom will be ready in about half an hour. You won't enjoy the lesson."

Phil started to swear. Another woman, Grace, walked into the room and said a couple of strange sounding words. Suddenly Phil was silent.

"I've heard enough from him for the moment. I have the fire set. Bring him out and put him on the ground outside the outer circle."

Isadora lifted up her wand and said a few words. Phil was now floating about a foot off the floor. Mary and Isadora steered/pushed him out the back door and to the edge of the outer circle. 

Grace came over to Phil. "Phil, I am going to release you so that you can move your head. Then I will release the spell on your voice so that you can speak. I will do that if you will willingly give me two strands of your hair. Will you do that?"

Phil nodded his head yes. Isadora came over and plucked two hairs from his head and put them into the silver chalice.. "One word of warning Phil, if you start swearing or yelling you will be made silent again, is that clear?" Phil nodded yes and the spell was released. 

The first words out of Phil's mouth were violent obscenities. Before the third word was out, he could no longer talk. Phil watched as the three women took off their clothes. He was enjoying the view.

Phil noticed them carefully walk over to the fire. He was confused at first, but when the fire went from normal to blue with little streaks of light blue he began to panic. This couldn't be real!

Moments later he saw Aziel. If anyone could have seen him at that moment they would have seen his eyes bug out from a face that was literally white as a sheet. Suddenly, Phil found himself on his feet, able to move his arms, but unable to move his feet or mouth. Grace spoke. "Phil, this is Aziel, he works for us. Smile for him Aziel."

Phil looked and saw fire where the mouth was. He was petrified.

"Now, you raped and mutilated Mary here. What do you think we should do to you? Oh, I forgot, you can't speak. That may be for the best because I think the appropriate punishment is that you should be raped. Take a good look at Aziel's erection."

Phil was panic stricken. The things prick looked like it was eighteen inches long and a good three to four inches in diameter.

"Aziel, would you like to rape him?"

Aziel grinned a horrible grin. 

"In time you may well do that, Aziel. For the moment we have another plan in mind."

Grace continued "Aziel, show him the same amount of pain that you gave to Mr. Murphy."

Suddenly Phil's eyes were full of tears, his mouth was open but no sound was coming out. Phil was now throwing up and silently sobbing at the same time.

"O.K. Aziel, that's enough. We are going to let you talk again Phil, but if you start swearing or yelling I'm going to let Aziel treat you to much more pain than you just had. Nod your head if you understand. 

Phil nodded his head.

Suddenly he knew that he could speak again. He quietly and politely asked Grace a question.

"What are you going to do to me?" 

"Well, I think we will let you go later. But, first I need to tell you what the rules are. You see, Aziel is only visible when he wants to be or when we tell him to be. He could be standing right next to you and you would never know it. Now, you have several rules to follow: One: you may not tell anyone what has happened tonight or where you have been tonight. Two: you will not in any way tell anyone who we are. Three: you will never again break the law or even think about hurting anyone. And, Four: you will never use foul language again. Do you understand the rules?"

"Yes, but what if I don't follow them? You can't be every place at once."

"That's true, however you now have a mark on your hand. That mark is the sign of a curse that will call Aziel if you so much as seriously think about breaking the rules. Now, if that doesn't scare you enough let me tell you the rest of your problem. You have twelve tastes of pain, each worse than the previous one, before Aziel can take you to his home and play with you for the rest of eternity. His home is not in our space-time. Tonight's pain was just a sample of what you will feel every time you think seriously about breaking the rules. Oh, yes, tonight's demonstration was time one, you have eleven times to go. Do you now understand what you may do?"

Phil couldn't do more than moan and shake his head yes.

Grace said a few words and Phil found himself completely naked.

The women walked Phil around to the side of the house, so that he could see his car. Phil, you are going to be released soon. Isadora, please follow me as I drive Phil to his destination. 

Twenty minutes later Phil saw that they were parked in his driveway.. Grace pulled Phil out of the car and had Phil watch as his car disappeared. 

Grace got in Isadora's car and they headed home. 

"Now, before I go in I need to fix a few things." Grace then said a few words and the cut wires were restored to their original condition, the fresh holes from the linemen's spurs were made to look like they were ten years old. There weren't even tire marks, cigarette buts, or footprints to show that anyone had been there that night.

"Let's get some sleep ladies, I'd suggest we sleep in."

******************************* Phil found himself alone in his parent's driveway. Only at that instant did he realize that his keys, wallet, money and all other items that he had earlier in the evening were gone. Here it was, about four in the morning, and he was outside his locked house, stark naked, with the family car missing, and unable to tell anyone why. It was enough to make him shudder. There were neighbor families on all sides of the house. The back yard seemed like the place to hide for the moment. ********************************* Mike's father came out to go to work, at his usual time. He was startled when he didn't see his car. He checked in the garage. No, he hadn't put in inside last evening. He decided to go back into the house. As he turned he saw the nude back of his son running into the front door. 

He immediately followed his son inside. "Phil, what is going on?"

Phil came down the stairs wearing a bathrobe. "I can't tell you dad."

"What do you mean, you can't tell me? As long as you live here you answer to me. Where have you been and what have you done with my car?"

"I can't tell you. If I do, some very bad things will happen to me. I simply cannot even hint at what has happened. The car is gone, not truly stolen. I'll get a job and start paying you for the loss of the car."

"Are you saying you plan to actually get a job and work? What has happened to you?"

"You'll simply have to see the new me, dad. You may not believe the changes you will soon be seeing?"

"Have you broken the law?" 

"Yes, but it will never be reported.. I can't tell you more than that."

"I'm going to have to get a new car now. I know that your Uncle Albert has been advertising for a stock boy in his hardware store. Get dressed. I'm going to call the rental car place and rent a vehicle. I'll drop you by his business on the way down town."

Much to his father's surprise, Mike simply said; "o.k." and went off to get dressed.

******************************

It was not four months since Phil received his lesson. No one who had known him before could believe that this was the same kid! He didn't swear, he didn't even bend even the normal rules of courtesy. He seemed to have become a polite, hard working young man.

There were all sorts of guesses about what had happened. But none of them even began to approach the truth.



Any Port in a Storm



João Carlinhos Garcia made his way across the deck. The only survivor of a plague that had wiped out the rest of his crew, Garcia knew that his chances were slim. They had been at sea for months when the disease broke out. Soon every other man on the ship bore those strange pock marks and grew tired and listless. They always died a few days later. The lucky ones in their sleep. And yet, as they fell one by one, only Garcia was left.

It was an unfortunate position for him, watching each of his comrades die, and knowing that he would suffer an even worse fate. Without a crew, the ship would drift aimlessly about until it ran ashore or he ran out of food. His best hope was to pray that he inadvertently come across another ship. After many mind-numbingly long days of flying the flag of distress, Garcia was already starting to run low on supplies. He had plenty of biscuits and hardtack, but that precious commodity of fresh drinking water was scarce. He had enough for maybe five or six more days at best.

As he contemplated his future, Garcia scanned the horizon. He was shocked when he realized that -- in the distance but quite distinct -- was an island. Land! It meant that he might yet be able to survive, even if it did mean he might be consigned to lonely exile on some uninhabited rock in the middle of the Atlantic.

Quickly, Garcia dropped anchors and loaded as many supplies as he could onto one of the larger rafts. He had no idea what awaited him on the island... in fact, he had no idea where he even was for that matter. But that didn't really concern him at the moment. Garcia was so concerned with finding fresh water, with finding safe haven, that all he could think about was rowing.

As he got closer to the island, he could see that there was a verdant patch of tropical foliage. Palm fronds, enormous ferns, and exotic, brightly colored flowers loomed off in the distance, gradually giving way to more dense forests. He could see some of the familiar birds gliding close to the shore. As he got closer still, their calls and songs greeted his ears, and he could smell... something... something very fragrant. It was an unearthly feeling when he finally reached ground. Garcia ran barefooted through the surf, the sand and cool water feeling comforting against his swarthy skin.

Garcia wondered where he was. Brazil? The West Indies? Cape Verde? Senegal? Perhaps even in the Congo? As if in response to his question, Garcia was greeted by a fearsome-looking band of black warriors, the sun shining brightly against their muscular ebony frames. Each of them held a long assssegai spear and wore a bright red clothe draped over their shoulders. Their heads were completely shaved clean, but they wore an excessive amount of beaded jewelry, and wore large ornaments through the piercings in their ears. The men regarded him with cold, almost contemptuous stares.

Thinking quickly, Garcia tried to seize control of the situation by acting diplomatically. He had experience dealing with natives before. Holding his arms outstretched to show he bore no weapons, the lost white man made his way towards his new visitors.

"Hello," he called out in Portuguese, "My name is João Carlinhos Garcia and I am lost. I'm the only survivor of my ship. I come only in peace."

There was no response from the trio of African warriors, so Garcia repeated the phrase once again, but this time in Castellano, then in Kongo, and then finally in Arabic. None of them seemed to get any sort of response out of the three. Garcia could see them talking amongst themselves, as if they were deciding what to do with him. The biggest of them -- a tall, muscle-bound brute of a man with nearly pitch black skin -- approached him, speaking in an unfamiliar language.

Garcia shook his head, unsure of what the man was trying to tell him. In response, the man started to talk louder and slower, and began to make gestures at Garcia. He still didn't understand what the leader wanted from him, but he could hear the others laughing in the background.

Eventually, the African dropped his cloth, exposing his massive erection. Garcia was amazed. He had never seen a penis so big before in his life. The African warrior smiled at him, his pearly white teeth shining against his ebon black lips. Garcia knew exactly what the man was getting at. He began to work his belt buckle and dropped his tight fitting pants. Then he took off his shirt, leaving himself naked and fully exposed to the Africans. His lithe, muscular body was still wet from making his way through the beach, and from sweating under the tropical sun.

With his swarthy good looks and hairy chest, Garcia had always thought of himself as a rather good looking man. His natural charms had endeared him to many of his fellow sailors in the past. After all, as many of them told themselves, any port in a storm. Those long months at sea made men... a little too excitable on ship, but it was nothing a quick trip to the Confessional couldn't take care of. That's why Garcia went along with the African man's actions.

Garcia began to stroke his cock, slowly letting it grow erect. It was nothing compared to the African warrior's gargantuan cock, which hung there like a branch on a tree. He was a little shocked, though, when the African shook his head. He grabbed Garcia and turned him around, shoving the tip of his massive cock against Garcia's anus.

The Portuguese sailor had never allowed himself to be penetrated, but he knew that he didn't have much choice in the matter now. He tried to brace himself for it as much as he could, but he still screamed out when the African began to forcibly sodomize him from behind. It was painful as hell. For his part, the African seemed relatively unfazed by this and just kept happily pumping away. He clutched the white man's body tightly as he continued to fuck him.

It seemed like an eternity before the great ebony warrior finally finished, shooting his fiery hot juices deep into the European's colon. Garcia gritted his teeth as the seed burned his innards. The African let go and Garcia fell to the beach sand, limp and utterly exhausted. Still, it wasn't that bad at all. In fact, Garcia felt that he could get used to this sort of thing. The African, now finished with his task and content, walked back towards his companions.

Garcia was not expecting, however, that both of them wanted their own turn with this strange new play thing. He clenched his teeth with anticipation as he saw the second warrior come over expecting to pleasure himself as well.

"Oh well," he thought to himself, "Any port in a storm."

And after months at sea, it certainly was the best experience João Carlinhos Garcia had had in a very long time. Just as long as nobody back in Lisbon saw him like this... 



Any Port in a Storm



Lightning flashed through the bedroom window, briefly cutting through the darkness. Jane lay on her stomach in bed, waiting for the inevitable but still flinching when the thunder boomed right behind. She bounced her feet slowly off the pillows shoved against the headboard with a nervous energy, waiting for it to all happen again.

"Stop that," Angela urged, resting her hand lightly on one of Jane's ankles to still the movement.

Jane glanced over at her, then back to the little window in their bedroom. The rain drummed steadily against it with a teasingly soothing beat, almost lulling one into complacency. Jane knew better, though, so she waited.

There's the flash...

She gripped the soft silk sheets in preparation.

BOOM!

And she flinched again, with her heart skipping a beat. Angela ran her thumb very lightly over Jane's calf as she held her ankle; the gentle stroking set her just a little bit more at ease. She let the sheets slide from her fingers and buried her face in them. Silk turned out to be a good choice, if only to keep them cool...the air conditioning had cut out when the power did, and the temperature had steadily risen. Even lying nude in her bed, Jane could still feel the sweat glistening on her skin. She dabbed her forehead on the wine red fabric before looking up again.

"It's really coming down," Angela remarked quietly, propped up on one hand next to her. She released Jane's ankle and slid her hand slowly up, along Jane's calf and hamstring, up across her firm rear, finally making a home rubbing small circles between her shoulders. She knew Jane was scared; the tension in her muscles betrayed that fact easily enough, but knew even casual touching would help some.

"The lights will be back on soon," she reassured her.

"I know," Jane replied quietly. "Not before it's all over though."

"Probably-" Angela began before getting cut off by leaves swiping against the windowpane. "Wow."

The wind had bowed the palm tree in the courtyard outside their apartment, and Angela hunkered down closer to Jane. One heavy breast came to rest on Jane's forearm as Angela slid down onto the bed next to her, but she made no mention of it. She slid forward a little, pushing along the bed with her toes to watch the tree sway dangerously close. She didn't move her arm, though, and soon Angela had snaked her fingers through Jane's and held it even closer. While it normally would annoy her, the now comingled sweat didn't bother Jane much...she appreciated the closeness.

Angela flipped some of her long, sweat-soaked red hair back over her shoulder, and leaned in close to Jane's ear.

"It's okay, hon," she whispered softly. "We'll be fine. Want me to light some candles or something?"

Jane smiled a little at the offer, knowing they didn't even have candles to light. She began to respond, but another flash lit up the room, revealing Angela's face to her in a flash. The BOOM! came shortly thereafter, but it didn't tweak her as much as it had. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against Angela's, tasting the saltiness of her sweat and reveling in it.

Angela released Jane's hand and rolled onto her side to free her arm from its pillowy prison. She slid her fingers gently through her matted short black hair, and pulled her in closer for a deeper kiss. Jane felt Angela's tongue probe her lips and parted them in response, happily granting her entry. Angela pressed further in, dancing her tongue against Jane's in a familiar pattern.

They broke off once to come up for air, and in the flash of lightning she could see Angela begin to rise up on the bed. Before she could react to the thunder, Angela had put Jane on her back and mounted her, straddling her hips. Another flash illuminated her full curvy frame; she swept down and pressed the fullness of her body against Jane's lithe frame to resume their passionate kiss.

Jane could only gasp for air when Angela allowed a brief respite; she slid her hands up along Angela's thighs and hips to her shoulders and finally down her arms, loving every inch of the slick wet skin and the heat radiating from her. The feeling of Angela's full breasts crushed against her own modest offerings ignited her desire for her lover, and she gripped Angela's arms to attempt a reversal. She wanted Angela on her back and ready for ravishment.

Angela broke their kiss then, drawing Jane's lower lip along with her, lightly teasing it with her teeth. She planted her hands on the memory foam mattress and wouldn't budge to Jane's movements, instead continuing to pin her.

"Nah-uh," she replied huskily after releasing Jane's lip. "That's not how we're playing it tonight."

"Wha-" Jane began before Angela cut her off with another kiss.

After breaking off, Angela ran her fingers lightly along Jane's face then turned it to the side. She planted soft kisses across her cheek and jaw, leading back toward the ear. This time Jane kept silent, wondering where Angela was going. She so rarely took charge, usually instead opting for a more submissive role.

Angela's kisses snaked up to her ear, which she lightly began to tongue. She slid it around the rim and down; a light nip on the earlobe elicited a tiny yelp.

"Shh," Angela whispered, kissing the lobe with all tenderness. One hand slid into Jane's hair and found a nice grip, the other began a descent as Angela lifted herself off of Jane ever so slightly. She gave each of Jane's perky little breasts a feel, just a delicate squeeze while running her thumb over each nipple in turn. The sensation tingled through Jane's body and she squirmed in response. Her arousal had kicked into overdrive then, and she felt the warmth and wetness building between her legs. She squeezed them shut and started to rub them together slowly, dragging her heels against the sheets.

Angela's kisses started to descend then, down from her earlobe to her neck, kissing and licking sweat from her skin as she went. She moved her hand from Jane's breasts to her knees, pushing them firmly down against the bed and denying her the pleasant sensations she had gotten from rubbing them together. She tried to slip one hand down as Angela shifted herself, but it was swatted away.

"Nope," she whispered. Releasing Jane's hair, Angela grabbed hold of both of Jane's wrists and held them together over her head. Angela was stronger than Jane, but it wouldn't have been hard to break free.

"I'll tie them down if I have to," Angela warned, knowing what was going through Jane's mind. Jane gave a whimpering complaint but didn't fight.

Angela grinned devilishly, now fully aroused. Having Jane willingly submitting to her desires sent a brand new flush of excitement running through her, raising goosebumps on her skin and hardening her nipples just a little. It was just as much a struggle to not satisfy herself as it had been for Jane. There would be time, though...she must be patient.

Instead Angela returned to her task, planting kisses along Jane's collarbone then down between her breasts. By now the pert little nipples were hard and happily at attention; Angela took one and then the other into her mouth to sweep her tongue over them and suck fervently. Jane squirmed again beneath her, and her breath had become ragged and short.

"Oh God," she gasped lightly as Angela's hand moved down across her smooth, taut stomach and inched closer to her pussy. Again she was denied, though, as the hand came agonizingly close to her mound before sweeping back up in a looping circle. Angela grinned at the reaction and could feel the coiled muscle in Jane's hips, ready to nearly involuntarily begin humping against anything that might satisfy her. She released Jane's wrists, warning against movement with a stern touch to her nose, and brought both hands to cup her breasts. Jane reached up and gripped her hands onto metal footboard of their bed, showing her submission to Angela's demands.

With both hands gently squeezing and kneading Jane's breasts, Angela shimmied her way further south. She kissed each rib, then across Jane's belly, reveling in the smell of her lover's sweat. Lower she went in a snaking pattern, lips and tongue enjoying every bit of Jane's skin she could. She kissed along Jane's prominent iliac crest and down until her lips hovered just over her mound. She blew air against it lightly.

Jane nearly knocked Angela silly as she jerked her hips upward, helplessly banging herself against Angela's chin. In response, a grinning Angela brought one hand down onto Jane's stomach and pushed her firmly back down onto the bed using just enough strength to send the message. Jane groaned and tilted her head back in frustration, but didn't fight.

Victorious, Angela brought her left hand down and guided Jane's legs apart. She slid down further, then fully off of Jane, and hooked her feet up onto the headboard. Jane brought one leg around Angela's shoulder and tried to pull her closer, but Angela didn't budge. She lightly blew onto Jane's moistened slit, causing her to spasm and jerk in response, whimpering plaintively for satisfaction.

With her right hand, Angela had taken to rolling Jane's nipple through her fingers, and she dragged her left thumb through the small wiry black landing strip Jane had framed her pubic hair into. Only inches away by then, Angela still drew it out. Giving Jane a toe-curling orgasm came easily to her by then, she had done it hundreds of times in the past. Thousands even, though she hadn't the time to properly crunch the numbers. Technique and flourish were needed to keep things interesting.

While still blowing air lightly over it, Angela ran her thumb slowly down along Jane's moist slit, causing shivers to run through her body and bringing out a low, deep moan. She brought her right hand down and repeated the process with her other thumb, then parted Jane's soft velvety lips with both. She leaned in and ran her tongue through the folds, collecting the delicious wetness and causing Jane to cry out and rock her hips desperately forward.

"Don't stop," she begged Angela in a high, whimpering voice. "Fuck me."

Angela gleefully obliged as she reveled in Jane's taste. She gave each lip and fold due attention before opening Jane as far as she could with her thumbs and plunging her tongue further in her warm, soaked box.

Jane, for her part, had become lost to the pleasure her lover's tongue was providing, only able to mutter profane encouragement as higher reason fled her. An animalistic need erased all other considerations, even the storm whipping around outside the window was lost on her. She arched her back and groaned loudly as pre-orgasmic ripples ran through her muscles.

Angela could feel her lover wasn't far now and withdrew her tongue slowly, enjoying the sensation of Jane's excretions running down her chin. In its place she slid first one, then two fingers of her left hand past Jane's slippery folds and deeper in. Jane's channel was well-lubed and clenched onto Angela's fingers; she stroked each bump and groove as she pistoned them in and out in deep, full strokes. Jane gasped loudly as she was expertly fingered, and started squirming her hips around swiftly, trying to get herself off on Angela's manipulations.

Angela couldn't hold off any further at the sight, and slid her free hand down between her own legs, mimicking her movements on Jane by sliding two fingers into her attention-starved vagina. She swept her thumb in purposeful circles over her engorged clit, and brought her lips down to tongue Jane's at the same time. She pushed her tongue up along Jane's hood and down across the shivering little organ, then took it between her lips and sucked along its peak.

Jane's muscles clenched tightly onto Angela's fingers and her entire body went rigid. Her breath caught in her throat as the pleasure reached its crescendo and her orgasm started to flood her. She cried out in unadulterated climactic joy, her voice shuddering and undulating as each wave tore through her. She bucked her hips reflexively, barely able to stand the intense pleasure that radiated out from her center.

Worse, Angela hadn't stopped. Her fingers never quit stroking maddeningly in and out of the spasming vagina, and she kept her tongue and lips locked fully onto Jane's clit. Jane cried out again as the intensity became too much for her to handle; she pulled against the footboard and tried to drag herself away from Angela's manipulations. Angela let her clitoris go but would not take her fingers out, laughing a little maniacally as she thrust vigorously into her own vagina.

"Oh, stop stop stop," Jane begged, though she still held firm to footboard. She saw Angela drop her head and groan, and the stroking fingers ceased their movement when Angela brought herself to orgasm. She sunk down onto the bed gasping and practically humping against the fingers inside her.

"Fuuuuuuck," Angela groaned, lifting her head up to look at her now exhausted and limp lover. Her fingers were still buried in Jane's twat; she very slowly pulled them free, causing Jane's legs to flop uselessly onto the bed. Jane gasped deeply for air and dropped her hands down onto her chest, lightly rubbing her breasts as she came down.

Angela slowly pushed herself up onto her knees and brought her right hand to her lips, taking both fingers into her mouth and licking the gooey richness from them. Jane reached a hand out, but didn't really have the energy to sit up.

"I didn't get to taste you," she complained as she watched Angela take care of that on her own. Watching Angela taste herself in such a way inflamed her desire once again, though she was too tired and sensitive to take advantage.

Angela grinned as her fingers slid from her mouth, and she lay down on top of Jane once again. She placed her wet left fingers against Jane's lips, parting them far enough to slide them into her mouth. Jane's tongue lapped them over gratefully.

"That's it," Angela murmured encouragingly to Jane as she feasted on herself. "It's better this way."

After a moment she pulled her fingers from Jane's mouth and replaced them with her lips, kissing her deeply as they both basked in post-orgasmic glow.

"I love you," she whispered to Jane after breaking off.

"Mmm," Jane intoned, fluttering her eyes closed. She could feel Angela move up a little and felt her warm full lips press lightly to her forehead, and she groaned happily in response. "I love you too."

Angela slid off of Jane and sat up, then reached down and ran her left hand slowly down Jane's stomach. She could feel all the tension had melted from her lover's muscles; coupled with the way Jane stretched out blissfully on the bed like a cat, she knew she had done well in satisfying her.

"Come on," she whispered to Jane, nudging her to turn over. "I've got a surprise."

Jane had begun to doze, and opened one eye at the insistence.

"Huh?" she asked, though she turned over to lay prone on her stomach just the same. Angela lightly cupped and squeezed her ass, then climbed off the bed.

"Close your eyes," she instructed when Jane lifted her head to try to locate her in the darkness. "It's not a surprise if you see it coming."

Jane opened her mouth to respond, but decided against it and settled her head back down against her forearms. She closed her eyes as she heard Angela rummaging through the bedside table, imagining the possibilities. The baby oil, it must be...she was about to get a nice massage to end her special treatment. Angela was always so thoughtful, that was exactly what she had needed.

Angela crept back up to the bed, making sure Jane had listened to instruction. She had even turned her head away, which brought a mischievous smile to Angela's lips. She slid her hand gently back over Jane's rear, then leaned down to plant a kiss on the smooth round mound of flesh. She climbed back onto the bed and straddled Jane's legs, careful not to touch her with the strap-on she was currently wearing and accidentally betray the surprise.

"Mmm," Jane mumbled against her arm as she wiggled her rear at Angela. "Never heard of a massage that started with the happy ending."

Angela couldn't help but grin wider, knowing Jane didn't have any clue what she was in for. She brought her hand down onto Jane's ass with a stinging spank, the sweat-soaked skin producing a very satisfying crack.

"Ow!" Jane complained with a giggle, lifting her head up a little. "Never heard of a massage with a spanking either."

"Sorry, babe," Angela replied apologetically, lightly rubbing the affected left cheek in response. If only there was light to see, she would have loved seeing the red welt that was sure to be spreading. "Is this better?"

Crack! went a spank on the right cheek, just as hard as the last one. Jane groaned against her arm, the pain and pleasure mixing in a heady combination. Her mind reeled...this was no massage. What would be her surprise?

Angela slid her hand down between Jane's thighs, finding her vagina still soaked and ready. Jane squirmed away from the invading fingers.

"Wait, wait...it's too sensitive," she complained. She was answered with the hand being removed and another hard spank cracking across her now burning cheeks.

Angela worked a good amount of spit into her mouth and dribbled it down onto the strap-on, then rubbed her hand along its length to lubricate. She brought her fingers back against Jane's pussy, this time not getting a reaction more than Jane squirming a little away from her. She slid one finger inside once more, finding things more than wet enough to proceed. She brought herself down on top of Jane and started to position.

"What are you-" Jane began before she felt the head of the dildo pressing against her lips. She bucked forward and gasped, though found her progress stopped by the footboard before her.

"Wait wait, I can't..." Her voice was drowned out in a long loud moan when Angela slipped the head past her defenses and the length of the strap-on began sliding deeper and deeper into her. She cried out at the intensity of her sensitive vagina being invaded, and gripped onto the metal slats on the footboard tightly.

"Isn't that nice?" Angela whispered gently as she reached her hilt, then fully inside Jane and lying on top of her. Jane squirmed and whimpered but couldn't form a coherent response, giving Angela free reign. She drew it out slowly, making Jane feel every maddening inch, then piled fully back into her in a powerful thrust.

Angela slid one arm around Jane's shoulders to brace herself, and she intertwined the fingers of her free hand through one of Jane's gripping onto the footboard. With her lover secured and all the leverage she would need, Angela began pumping slowly in and out. Jane met each vigorous thrust with a gasp or a moan or a load cry of pleasure as Angela fucked her swiftly and mercilessly. Her toes curled and she beat her feet lightly on the bed.

Both knew Jane wasn't long for this treatment; filling her like this sped her faster toward orgasm than anything in their playbook. Angela leaned close beside Jane's face, sucking lightly on her earlobe, licking her cheek, then kissing her shoulder. She gripped Jane's hand tightly in hers and mixed her thrusting, going from smooth steady strokes to speeding up with short, fast movements, then slow and deliberate force.

"Tell me you love It," Angela whispered into her ear between kisses.

"Oh...God...oh...oh," Jane mumbled with each thrust. "Fuck me, Angela, fuck me hard...harder..."

Angela obliged, abandoning all finesse and piling into Jane as fast and hard as her strap-on harness would allow. The sweat beaded up on her forehead from the effort and dripped into Jane's hair, then onto her forehead as she tilted her head up, but neither paid it any mind. Each thrust sent Jane closer and closer to the edge, and she wailed in wanton pleasure.




Any Port In A Storm



Lia’s buttocks tightened and drove her mound into my face and her hands pressed the back of my head, threatening to either smother or drown me in her sopping-wet pussy. I broke loose and looked up at her from where I knelt before her.

“What are you doing? Don’t stop!” she snapped as she looked down at me.

“Don’t try to suffocate me or I will,” I shot back. “You want me to stop what I’m doing?”

“Don’t you dare! I love it! Go down on me, you bastard! Eat my pussy good, baby! Please! Do me!” she begged.

“Grab your tits and squeeze them,” I ordered. “I like watching you do that. I’m gonna make you cum, sugar. I want to feel you cum like you’ve never cum before. Do your tits, bitch! Now!” As I drove my tongue back into her cunt, I saw her hands rise to those plum-tipped mounds and pinch the nipples between two fingernails as the rest pressed into her golden-brown breasts hard enough to leave marks.

She gasped and moaned, chanting, “Eat me! Eat me! Don’t ever stop! Soooo goood… Never felt it like this before…. Oohhhh…”

She was about to peak. I pinched her clit and jacked it with my fingers like it was a tiny cock as I pushed my tongue and lips as far into her twat as they would go and went “Brrrrr!” with my lips. Over the edge she went.

“AIEEE!” Lia cried as she came. A gush of pussy juice rewarded my efforts and her legs trembled from the force of her climax. I stood up, caught her by the shoulders to keep her from falling and sat her on the edge of the bed as she continued to shudder. She blindly turned into my arms and locked her mouth to mine, panting with lust. Her hand roamed down my body and grabbed my cock possessively.

“Lie back,” she panted. “I want your cock. I want to make YOU cum, stud. Let me ride you. I need it. I need to feel your cock in me.”

I crawled up on the bed and lay on my back. Without waiting for further invitation, Lia straddled me. Holding her dripping pussy lips apart with two fingers, she sank down onto me, taking my dick into her cunt. She sighed with pleasure as she rose and fell, enjoying the feeling of my hard rod penetrating her.

I reached up and got my hands on her tits, pressing them together to accentuate her already impressive cleavage, popping her nipples back and forth with my thumbs. Her eyes opened wide in surprise and I pulled her forward, seeking her mouth.

“Not so hard, they’re still tender – mmm, mnph, mmmhhh,” she mumbled as my lips stopped her speech and my tonguetip brushed hers. Opening her mouth, she accepted my tongue as she had accepted my cock. Unconsciously her cheek and pussy muscles began to work in unison, milking the male flesh that filled them, wallowing in the sensations and asking for more as Lia surrendered to the pleasure we gave each other.

I felt my own orgasm starting to simmer in my balls. It had been months since I’d had a woman and now, with a sensuous, orgasmic, eager girl riding me, I knew I couldn’t last much longer. I really wanted us to cum together, but my hips were jerking up to meet Lia’s downward thrusts instinctively and I knew I could not hold back.

“I’m sorry, baby, but I’m gonna cum,” I whispered hoarsely as I tried to hold on, to let Lia catch up and climax before I blew my load. She picked up the tempo instead, her muscles rippling the length of my cock as she ground down on my erection.

“I want you to, Jack. I want you to. Give me your cum. Shoot it deep in my pussy. Paint my cunt with your sperm,” she panted, my cock moving in and out of her with the regularity of a metronome. “Just let go, baby. Don’t worry about me. Give me your cum. I want it. I want it. I want it… OHHH!”

Unable to resist any longer, I grabbed her hips and jammed her down on my cock and blindly vacuumed a tit into my mouth, trying to jumpstart her climax even as I arched my back to ram deep into her, my prick shooting spastically into her. As the last jet spurted from my cock, I felt her cunt clamp down as she shuddered with her own small release. I sought her lips as we fell sideways, still joined together. We kissed, moaning with pleasure given and taken, as afterglow took us and we slowly calmed down.


When our breathing had returned to normal and my spent, shrunken cock had slipped out of Lia’s well-fucked cunt, we lay in each other’s arms listening to the rain softly drumming on the windows outside. I looked at this luscious woman who had chosen to sleep with me with awe and gratitude.

“Penny for your thoughts?” she said, stretching and rubbing her boobs along my chest.

“I was just thinking what an idiot your boyfriend is, to throw a girl like you over; and how lucky I feel, you having decided to take me to bed,” I said, running a hand along her flank.

Lia said, “And I was thinking how lucky I was that this storm tossed you up on my doorstep just when I needed a good man to make me forget about a bad boy.” Smiling enigmatically, she kissed me and rolled onto her back, offering herself.

“You know,” she said softly, holding her arms out, “I could wish that this rain never stop. Come to your Lia, baby.” And I was happy to oblige.