4 comments/ 50215 views/ 4 favorites Pretty Boy By: Lesly Sloan Captain Flynn called me into his office to discuss a new assignment. "Lucy, we've got to find a dangerous weirdo who's cutting lesbians in the Village. You're the perfect choice to handle this case, because you're a lesbian." "Captain, what I do on my time off is none of your business!" I said after his fucking remark. "Sorry," he said. "But I need you on this case. Can you start tonight, Lucy?" "Yeah, I can. Fill me on the details." They didn't know much. Whoever was meeting women in lesbian hangouts in Greenwich Village took them to a cheap hotel and left them in bad shape, all cut up. Very scary stuff. There were no good descriptions or other leads. I prepared to visit a club that night, putting on a low-cut blouse that showed off my tits, sexy black stockings, and a short skirt. When I sit on a bar stool, the skirt shows almost everything I've got to offer another lesbian who's looking for a fast fling in the Village. I decided to start my hunt at Clit Kat Club: the music is hot and the women are hotter. Women of all ages and sizes shed their blouses and sweat on the packed dance floor, and Go-go dancers perform on the main bar. I joined the crowd standing in front of the bar. In front of me was an obvious dyke, dressed as a man. She was very pretty, too pretty to be a guy. In my mind, from then on, she was "Pretty Boy." Pretty Boy wore a Western style shirt, and very tight blue jeans: tight enough to show she was "packing it" : wearing a strap-on that caused a bulge in the jeans. Something about her bothered me. I wasn't sure what that was, but five years as a Detective in the NYC Police Department made me aware of something not quite right in a suspect's behavior or way of dressing. Maybe she was the one who was cutting lesbians and leaving them in a hotel room. Before approaching her, I opened my purse and checked the contents. All was in order; my snub-nosed weapon was there, together with handcuffs and my NYPC badge. I moved up behind her, saying "Can I get in here, honey? I like to get real close to the dancers." She turned and looked me over. Then Pretty Boy said, "Squeeze in next to me." We touched bodies as the dancers moved on stage. I put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her even closer to me. I thought for a moment how nice it would be to get her into bed with me tonight and eat her pussy after she used that strap-on and fucked me. Then I remembered that she might be a very dangerous criminal. When the band took a break, I introduced myself, using my real name: Lucy O'Brien. That way, I don't screw up when talking to suspects, When I said that I hadn't seen her around NYC, she told me that she comes into town from Philadelphia stays at a cheap hotel in the Village. It seemed reasonable, but, once again, I had the feeling that she was lying to me. "By the way," I said. "My name is Lucy, what's yours?" "Sheila, Sheila Doyle." After social chit-chat, I figured it was time to make a move and suggested we go to her hotel room. We walked hand-in-hand to her cheap hotel. She led me into a small elevator and pressed a button for the third floor. I was on high alert, as we stood very close. I kissed her, but stayed aware every moment that she might pull a fast one. No telling what would happen tonight. Once we got into her room, she unbuttoned her blouse and indicated I ought to do the same. Two bare-breasted women kissed, then licked each other's nipples. As the sex got hotter, I had to remind myself how dangerous the situation was. She pulled off her jeans, then her panties. As I'd suspected, she had a blue plastic dick attached to a harness around her hips; she was the hottest woman I'd met in a long time. But I had to do my job instead of fooling around with her. "Hold it!" I yelled. "You're under arrest." She looked at me as if I was nuts, then said, "What the hell is this?" I pulled the badge and weapon out of my purse, which was on the bed, and showed them to her. "Put your hands up and empty your purse on the bed." Then she started to laugh, "I can't believe this." "What's so funny?" I said. "Let me open my purse and show you something. OK?" "Throw it over her," I said. "I don't trust you." I held the gun on her as I rummaged around in her purse. As I suspected, she had a weapon there, much like mine. When I pulled it out and waved it in the air, she said, "Look all the way into the bag, Lucy." She was still laughing at me and that pissed me off. I rummaged around and pulled a badge out of the bag. "Where'd you get this?" I asked. "I'm working undercover for the Manhattan D.A. He doesn't think the Police Department can solve the case." I felt foolish, then asked for I.D. Sure enough, she had an photo I.D., proving she was an investigator for the D.A. I put the gun down and apologized. "I'm sorry, Sheila. Is that your real name?" "Yeah, it is," she said and hugged me. "I have an idea." "What?" "Well, we're practically naked now. My strap-on is the real thing. And the room is paid for until morning. Can you guess what I have in mind?" "You want me to pull off my panties, get on bed with you, then have you fuck me with that strap-on. Is that you have in mind?" "Bingo!" she said. "Get into bed, Lucy. This is the beginning of something great." We fucked and sucked all night, falling asleep as the sun came up. She woke me with her tongue in my pussy, licking my clit. I wanted it to go on forever, but duty called. "Time to get up, Lucy. We both have to report in. What will we tell the Police Chief and the D.A?" "That's easy. Just say that it's a very promising, and more surveillance is needed." She moved in with me. We didn't tell the Captain Flynn or the D.A about that. None of their business. We still use the old strap-on, but have lots of new sex toys. My favorite is a double-ended strap-on which lets us fuck each other. The creep who was cutting lesbians seems to have left town. But we owe him (or her) a favor for bringing us together. Pretty Boy I always hated stereotypes. At least, that was my excuse for resenting anyone who assumed I was gay. A guy can be fabulous and into clothes and still be attracted to the opposite sex. And I have been attracted to girls as far back as I can remember--that's no bullshit. Girls love a guy they can go shopping with. "Metrosexual" was what they called me, and I was fine with that mantle. It meant they recognized my good taste, refined appearance, superior grooming, and upscale tastes. It was when people called me "gay" that I got frustrated. I'm not gay. Properly, I'm bi. I'll admit I'd never been with a guy before--kissed a few, but that was it. And I never liked people thinking I was into them, because the point was that, regardless of appearances, I didn't HAVE to be gay. I always thought people needed to open their minds--especially those macho loser jocks who think the epitome of masculinity is throwing a ball around, beating each other up, and making fun of gays. I dunno. Football? The whole thing always seemed kind of homoerotic to me. It wasn't as if I didn't understand why people--especially dudes--jumped to the conclusion that I was gay. I've always been in touch with my feminine side, and classy as fuck. An appreciation for fine clothing, superior hygiene, a decent hair and skin care routine--these are things that people seem to think are qualities of a homosexual male, when they really should be qualities of every human being as far as I'm concerned. It was all the more frustrating, then, when I found out who I'd been paired with in my college dorm. I was in my second year, pursuing a business degree. I hadn't lived on campus my first year, but my parents were now insisting on it. Apparently they thought me a bit of a sponge, still living at home. I was mad, certainly, but after a while I could see their point. I supposed I had taken them for granted. It was a difficult transition, moving myself to a comparatively tiny room, plus having to share it with some random dude. I was immensely grateful, at least, that I wouldn't have to deal with communal bathrooms. Besides the revolting thought of the dubious level of hygiene resulting from masses of sweaty, sloppy young men sharing shower and toilet facilities, I cherish my self-care routines, and I wasn't interested in putting them on display. I'm not sure other guys would have been interested in display either--I had that "gay vibe", and when I was around dudes in any state of undress, they were hypersensitive to being observed. I could certainly appreciate a well-formed male body, but I was as hypersensitive as they were, knowing if I was caught looking, they'd think it proof that I was gay. In high school locker rooms, I kept my eyes on my own business and did my utmost to suggest to them I was straight by my complete disinterest. Thank God I was long finished with high school gym classes. Now I was a college man, and I only had to share a bathroom with one roommate. Our cramped dorm was fairly cleverly designed to make the best use of the limited space. The beds were loft beds, with small but serviceable desks beneath. There were bureaus, a few shelves, and a shared closet. Whoever my roommate was, he was already moved in. He seemed to have been living here a while already. He was obviously an athlete, and a complete slob. While his stuff took up only fifty percent of the room, he had made that fifty percent an eyesore. Sports shit, clothes everywhere, papers, food wrappers, empty Powerade bottles, et cetera. His clothes also took up squarely fifty percent of our shared closet, but I hated to even put my clothes in the same physical space as his... it was hard to call them clothes at all. I realized as I unpacked that I was going to need more than half of that closet space. My shirts and trousers were expensive and needed to be hung up--the idea of cramming any of them into drawers was unfathomable. He seemed to mainly have grotty, well-worn t-shirts. The man himself finally wandered in, clad in sweatpants and a tee sporting our school's logo, and looking and smelling like he'd just had a run. "Hey," he muttered, glancing over me with an irritated expression. "Hello," I replied, glaring back at him appraisingly. He looked like a real bruiser, thick and broad-shouldered--I guessed correctly that he was a football player. He had blue eyes, and his head was shaved, but by his eyebrows I figured he was an ash blonde. Speaking of eyebrows, his badly needed to be plucked and shaped. I must have been showing my distaste--his mouth twisted, and he turned his back to me, rummaging in one of his drawers. "So, you're my roommate," I ventured when he did not speak to me further. He turned and squinted at me. "Yeah..." he said slowly, as if it should have been the most obvious fact in the world. I frowned at his rudeness, and decided to be the bigger man, though physically he was the size of approximately three of me. "I'm Markus," I said, moving to the midpoint of the room and extending a hand. "Markus Van Aken." He looked at my hand, and then at me. He snorted briefly and finally took my hand, giving it one brief pump with his warm, sweaty paw before pulling back. "Greg," he replied, and went back to his drawer. I minded my own business while he changed out of his exercise clothes and into a plain white undershirt and a pair of flannel shorts. "So... Greg," I finally ventured. "Are there any little 'house rules' for our dorm?" He vaulted up onto his bed and flopped back, fiddling with his phone. "I dunno. Don't be an ass?" "Hmm," I murmured, carefully putting my shirts on hangers and trying to puzzle out how to hang them all in this tiny half-closet space. "Question. Do you think you need all these clothes hung up? They mostly look like they could be folded and put in drawers. I have a lot of things that really need to be on hangers, and I need some extra space." Greg snorted. "Sorry, slick. Half that closet's mine and I'm using it." I pursed my lips, but made no reply. It was hard to argue that, but I wished he'd listen to my logic. I resigned myself to making do, and found a way to hang some things beneath my loft bed. I glanced at him periodically while I set up my living area. He mostly had his attention on his phone, but from time to time he'd watch me through narrowed eyes as if I were some kind of strange insect. I could practically feel him forming assumptions about me. "So, what about girls?" I piped up, seeing a perfect opportunity to assert my masculinity. "Girls?" He eyed me, smirking, and snorted. There it was. Obviously he'd pegged me as gay. I squared my shoulders. "Yes--you know, the opposite sex? The ones with breasts? Ever had one?" He snorted again, this time looking a little less amused. "You are some piece of work," he muttered, turning back to his phone. I felt slightly chastened, but kept up my dignity. "So... seriously. If one of us has a girl over, and things get... intimate... do we do the tie-on-the-doorknob thing or what?" "Tie on the doorknob--are you from the seventies?" he snickered. "No one does that." I was going to remark that I suspected he didn't own any ties regardless, but kept my mouth shut. "I don't tend to bring my one-night stands here, so don't worry about me," he continued. "If you feel a pressing need to get laid in your little dorm bunk bed, just send me a text and latch the door. I'll find someplace to couch surf." "All right," I agreed, and we proceeded to exchange cell numbers. I didn't like Greg. He seemed determined to make me out to be a moron at every turn. I was just as determined not to let him succeed. He snored. I had a difficult time falling asleep the first night. I awoke by six and he was still sawing logs. I groaned and nearly fell out of my loft bed trying to climb down. I gathered up an armful of supplies and stumbled to the bathroom. Getting myself ready for a day was always a production, and it was a unique challenge completing my usual ablutions in this tiny, shared bathroom. I was accustomed to having a spacious bathroom all to myself. There was hardly any counter space--I wouldn't even be able to store all the products I used on a daily basis in here unless I could use the whole space. The only things Greg kept next to the sink were a toothbrush, toothpaste, razor, and shaving cream, so I shifted them aside. I had to clean the countertop and sink thoroughly before spreading out my stuff. It had been spattered with old soap scum, toothpaste, and God only knew what else. I glanced into the shower stall and grimaced. It, too, did not look well cared for. Well, I wasn't going to spend all my time here cleaning up after my slovenly roommate. I dug up a pair of flip-flops and wore them while I showered. I could at least protect myself from someone else's filth. I was halfway through moisturizing when Greg began to pound on the door. "Time's up!" he bellowed. I tensed with discomfort. Being interrupted in the bathroom was extremely distasteful, and I felt it rather rude on my roommate's part. "I'm not finished yet," I called back. "Give me ten more minutes." "You've been in there for nearly an hour! What the fuck is taking so long?" "You don't know how long I've been--you were still asleep when I got up!" I protested. "I was awake when you came and got your little sandals. You a germophobe or what?" "No, I just don't appreciate being exposed to this level of squalor!" I sighed grievously. "Do you ever clean anything in here?" He pounded on the door again, making it rattle. "Stop that, please!" I snapped. "Hurry... the fuck... up!" Greg was ruining my morning routine, and now I was tense and upset. My personal care and grooming rituals were important to my well-being. This was intolerable. And yet... I would have to resign myself to it. This was going to be the reality of sharing a space, I realized. It was not my bathroom; it was our bathroom. Paring a bit of time off of my morning routine would have to be one of a thousand small sacrifices I was going to have to make in order to live in this shared dorm. I wrapped a towel around myself, balled up my PJs with my boxers and moisturizer bottle, and tucked the bundle under my arm. I could finish outside the bathroom, I supposed. Reluctantly I unlocked the door and pulled it open. Greg stood there like a bouncer with his arms propped against the jamb, blocking the doorway. He looked me up and down and suddenly burst out in obnoxious, braying laughter. "Problem?" I wondered, putting on my most unamused face. "You wear your towel like a girl!" he snorted. "Gotta protect those sweet little titties, huh?" He poked me in the nipple through the towel, and I jerked back. "I'd rather you didn't touch me." He snorted again and twisted his face into a mock expression of remorse. "Aww, sowwy pwincess!" I looked down at myself, cheeks burning. I'd never thought about the way I wore my towel--I'd get too chilly if I didn't wear it up around my chest. I furrowed my brow and looked back up at him. "You going to move? I thought you wanted me out." I had a wicked thought and continued sardonically, "Or were you wanting to join me in here? I mean, I know I'm uncommonly pretty, but you're not exactly my type." I smiled smugly, figuring if a dumb jock could dish out the gay jokes, so could I. "Ow, my feelings!" he quipped, briefly miming a fake cry before invading my personal space just long enough to get himself through the doorway and then turning aside to allow me to leave. However, I could take no more than a step before his hand had seized my bare shoulder to stop me. "What?" I exclaimed. "I asked you not to touch me!" "What's all this shit?" he demanded, turning me toward the sink and pointing at my arrangement of products. I shrugged him off. "Not all of us are content to just roll out of bed and go, Greg. This look doesn't happen by accident." I raised my hands to form a frame around my face, unapologetically. He rolled his eyes. "Look... Mark... this isn't rocket surgery. You get fifty percent of all common areas--no more. Move your shit." "It's 'Markus', please," I corrected. "Never 'Mark'. And I'm going to ask you to lay off. We obviously have different needs, and we're both going to have to respect that. You were using less than a quarter of the counter space, so I don't think it's unfair of me to commandeer space you're not using anyway." He shifted his broad, square jaw, glaring down at me. "You think wrong. You get half, princess. I don't give a flying fuck if you think my half is wasted. It's still my half. And I don't want any of your makeup and shit on it." "It's not makeup!" I exclaimed, exasperated, grabbing my moisturizer bottle and shoving it in his face. "Ever hear of personal grooming?" "I'm a man, not a fucking poodle," he snarled back, swatting my arm aside. "I don't care what this shit is--MOVE IT!" I flinched at his forcefulness. Whether or not he was right, I felt horribly disrespected. He was using his bulk to intimidate me, and it simply wasn't right. Regardless, I put my proverbial tail between my legs and selected a number of bottles and jars I could stand to keep in my bureau instead of the bathroom, and carefully moved what remained to one side of the sink while Greg stood glaring at me. Clutching my armful of stuff, I stuck my chin in the air and glared back at him. "You're a bully," I said simply. "You smell like a fucking meadow," he retorted. "If only you did!" I made a disgusted face and mimed gagging before departing the bathroom, my flip-flops absurdly making their iconic flipping, flopping noises as I went. He snorted once before slamming the door shut, and moments later I heard him peeing like a racehorse. "Neanderthal," I muttered. We fell into a grudging routine over the next few days. We took the trouble to learn each other's schedules so that neither of us was bound to be hogging the bathroom at inopportune times. I will admit I still took more than my fair share, and the arguments only grew worse. I usually went away feeling an uncomfortable mixture of smug self-satisfaction and guilt. It was hard to admit, but Greg brought out my most immature side, and... yes, my insecurity. He had an effortless, sharp-tongued way of poking straight at all my faults, and I felt consistently unsettled. It became a vicious cycle, as the more unsettled I felt, the more determined I became to prove myself. A girl entered the picture, which inevitably amplified all this. She wasn't any girl of mine, but Greg's. I came back from a late class one night and found them both sitting curled up on his bed, cozily shoulder-to-shoulder. They were talking very quietly, and stopped when I entered. "Oh, hey--so you're Markus-never-Mark." She smirked at me while Greg looked in the other direction, looking grumpy. I had to fight to keep from showing my chagrin at the way Greg had obviously been complaining about me to his girl. She was achingly beautiful, with bronze skin; dark, almond-shaped eyes; and very curly black hair gathered into a spectacular poof of a ponytail. Fabulous hair--I would have liked to join her in the shower and wash it for her. I wanted her immediately, perhaps especially so because Greg had her. "Markus is fine," I replied in good humour, managing one of my most charming smiles. "I'm Rana," she replied, hopping gracefully down off of Greg's bed. Her breasts bounced enticingly beneath a snug cotton top, and her floral skirt swirled around her thighs. She offered a hand to me politely, and I shook it, giving her a light squeeze. "Pleased to meet you," I said. "You're a... friend of Greg's?" I smiled continually, slipping my hands into my pockets in a deliberate show of casualness. "Yes, I am indeed a friend of Greg's," she replied, eyes glinting playfully. "We were just... calling it a night, though." "Ohh, are you sure?" My gaze passed from hers to Greg's; I smirked and adjusted an invisible tie. "I could go somewhere else if you wanted some privacy." "That's sweet, but really, I have to run," Rana chuckled, squeezing my shoulder briefly. "Got a paper to work on." She turned to smile widely at Greg, and he jumped down, ignoring me completely as he walked her the brief distance to the door. I pretended to look at a textbook, but watched surreptitiously as they hugged each other tightly, and whispered back and forth. "So," I said once she was gone and he'd hefted his bulk back into bed. "She's stunning." "I don't need your opinion." "Retract your claws, Gregory," I chuckled, lowering myself into my desk chair and crossing my legs neatly. "It was a compliment." "To who?" "Both of you, I guess!" "I'm not responsible for her being stunning. If you were implying she's my girlfriend, you'd be wrong." "Oh? She seems fond of you." I continued to grin at him. "Yeah, she is. That doesn't mean we're in a relationship." "Well, isn't that nice for you!" I retorted sarcastically. I crossed my arms. "If she's not your girlfriend, then I suppose you wouldn't mind me asking her out." He released a harsh, irritated sigh. It took him several moments to respond. "You're welcome to try, pretty boy, but trust me, she wouldn't bite." "She, uh... into the ladies then?" I kept up my grin. "Fuck!" he burst out, rolling to face me with furious eyes and flushed cheeks. "You're such a douche! You think any girl who might not be into you must be gay? Fuck--seriously! The only thing worse than having an ego the size of a planet is combining that ego with complete and utter ignorance! I am so fucking done!" I let out a long breath. "Whew... someone really does need to get laid," I muttered, regretting my words even as they fell from my lips. It was a reflex, and I didn't know why. I wasn't exactly disproving myself a douche. I felt the floor tremble as he leaped down off of his bed. He barrelled across the room like The Hulk and grabbed me by the shirt, pushing until my chair slammed back against the wall. He got right in my face, snarling. "What is my one rule?!" he roared. "Don't be an ass! DON'T BE AN ASS, Markus!" I blanched, breathing rapidly like a little mouse caught under a cat's paw. Would he hit me? Would he actually hurt me? I didn't want my face bruised, but if he did hit me, he'd at least prove himself a hypocrite, which would give me some satisfaction. "Look at yourself right now," I whispered, trying to make steady eye contact with him, though my breath trembled a little. "Who exactly is being an ass?" He gritted his teeth, continuing to glare furiously at me for a short time, his blue eyes shining and frigid. His cheeks only reddened further as he sucked in deep breaths and let them out in angry huffs. Finally he let go of my shirt and spun away, leaning hard against the nearest wall to catch his breath. I said nothing further as he struggled to calm himself, deciding I was done poking the bear for tonight. I adjusted my chair and took a deep breath, and he shot me another glare as if even these small noises were infuriating to him. He abruptly stripped off his shirt, pulled on another, and plunged his gigantic feet into a pair of hideous, old runners. "I need some air!" he spat, and departed, slamming the door behind him. We spoke minimally for the next couple of weeks, and Rana continued to be a regular presence. Often when I came back from a day of classes or a party or pub night, she would be in our dorm, the two of them perched on his bed or scrunched up in chairs side by side. Whatever they were up to, they always stopped the moment I walked in. I bumped into her in the pub one night, and she happily joined me for a drink. I was pleased to have her all to myself for once, without Greg's influence. I certainly felt more at ease, and more myself without him around. Pretty Boy We chatted pleasantly about this and that--classes, clothes, the news. She remarked on the softness of my hands, which pleased me immensely, and we talked moisturizers for a few minutes. "Greg should moisturize," Rana giggled. "His hands are like sandpaper." I joined her in laughter, though I felt an uncomfortable little pang at the suggestion that she had been getting cozy with Greg's hands. Greg had consistently denied my implications that they were "together", but he had also told me he wasn't likely to have sex in our dorm. He might have been with her in hers, and just not told me. "I'll bet," I finally replied. "That's why I take such good care of myself. Not many people want sandpaper on their sensitive bits." I winked. She raised both of her elegant eyebrows. "Oh, are you implying Greg's hands have been anywhere near my 'sensitive bits'?" She smirked. I shrugged innocently. "You do seem... fond of each other." "We are. We're very good friends, Markus. That's all." I cocked my head. "Has he never... asked you out? Or vice versa?" She smiled distantly and contemplated how to respond. Finally, she leaned over the table to get closer to me so that she could make herself heard over the din without having to yell. "I like him. But he's... well, he's in a really complicated place right now." I followed her lead and leaned close to her, sensing some intimate secrets that I might be able to get a piece of. "He's had some... problems, or what?" I wondered. "I mean, he seems to have a pretty short fuse." Her smile turned apologetic. "I can't really say anything more. I know he's... rough around the edges, but... yunno, some people find that attractive." I studied her for a few moments. "Do you prefer rough, Rana... or soft?" I placed my hand over hers. Her cheeks darkened a little. Her eyes lowered, and she bit down on one lusciously red lip. "Oh... you are cute... princess," she chuckled somewhat awkwardly, placing her opposite hand over mine. Now it was my turn to flush. "I swear to God, I'm not nearly as much of a douche as Greg probably makes me out to be. He brings out my absolute worst side--I wish it weren't so!" She laughed, sounding surer this time. "Has it occurred to you that you do the same to him?" I shrugged. "A little, I guess." She patted my hand, and then pulled hers back, placing them both around her drink. "You know... Greg's actually a really neat guy. I wish you two didn't clash so much." I folded my hands, a little disappointed and, I suppose, a touch embarrassed. I'd taken a chance, and I was pretty sure I'd just been brushed off. I sighed, not exactly wanting to keep talking about my roommate. "Maybe I'd find him a bit easier to put up with if he took a little better care of his living space, and himself... and a new wardrobe would help. All those sweats and shabby runners--ugh!" She laughed merrily. "Sure, he'd look fab in a nice suit and patent leather shoes, but we can't all afford designer clothes and top-of-the-line moisturizers." She smiled and leaned forward again. "Pretty boy." I smirked and lowered my gaze. "You must think I'm horribly spoiled." "Are you spoiled?" I sighed again. I felt a little on the spot, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as it might have been. Rana wasn't just a pretty face--she was very easy to talk to, and I certainly understood why Greg liked spending time with her. "Yes," I admitted. "I'm spoiled. I'll admit it. Rich parents, only child, trust fund. I guess it's hard for me to see things the way most people do. I don't want to be an ignorant douche, but I only know one way of life. My parents very abruptly decided to pull the rug out from under me recently after giving me everything my whole life, and... it's been a struggle to adjust." I smiled weakly. It felt good to vent, and I hadn't really been able to put things in perspective until now. Rana nodded slowly. "I see. Markus... no one wants to give the poor little rich boy any sympathy when most of us have to work our butts off for every little thing... but it's true you didn't earn that silver spoon upbringing anymore than, say, Greg earned his... less privileged upbringing. Suddenly being turned out on your ass by your folks must have been a rude awakening--I can understand that. You're allowed to struggle to adjust." She touched my hand briefly, and then gripped her glass again. "It doesn't mean I'm gonna feel sorry for you, though." She laughed lyrically. "That's... fair," I replied, joining her in a laugh and feeling a little more at ease. "So... Greg. He doesn't have a job as far as I know. Does he work summers to put himself through school, or what?" "No, he doesn't take summer breaks. And his program's too intensive to let anyone work even part-time." "So... scholarship?" I guessed. Rana nodded. "It's not what you think, though." She grinned widely. "Oh? What do I think?" I sat back in my chair, smiling playfully. "You think football, don't you?" I nodded, and she shook her head. "Academic," she corrected. I raised my eyebrows. "What program is he in? I've never talked to him about classes." "Aerospace Engineering." I gaped at her, once more leaning forward on the table. "You're kidding!" "Nope," she giggled. "Seriously. Greg's brilliant. He only plays football for shits and giggles. And to blow off steam." I scrunched up my face, trying to process this. I knew the Engineering programs were incredibly competitive. He certainly would have had to be brilliant to not only qualify, but also to get by on an academic scholarship, not to mention sustaining extracurriculars like sports all the while. "Damn," I finally murmured. I was the bigger ass--there was no way around it. My trust fund was paying my tuition, I'd never had to work, and I was taking business courses mainly with the ambition of getting a job wherein I could wear a suit every day. On top of all of this, I'd been snippy with Greg for making assumptions about me when I'd blithely dismissed him as a dumb jock. "Damn. I am a douche. I'm an enormous douche." Rana smiled with heartbreaking kindness. "Yup. But a discerning eye can see you have a lot of potential nonetheless." I gave her a great big hug when we parted ways, and she squeezed me tightly. "You smell really nice," I remarked. "So do you, pretty boy," she replied, and pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek before giggling and striding off to her building. My thoughts were whirling as I returned to my dorm. I couldn't make sense of anything. I opened the door and shut it gently behind me. I could hear Greg typing away at his laptop as I walked in slowly. It was warm, and the air seemed to be thrumming with strange electricity. Or maybe it was just me? I looked down at my hands, and my fingers were trembling. Something about my talk with Rana had turned me completely upside down. Was I in love? Was I in love with Rana? I liked her a lot--a hell of a lot--but she almost seemed untouchable, as if she were on another plane of existence. "What'd you do, kill someone?" Greg asked suddenly. I looked up with surprise. He was glaring at me with a cocked eyebrow. I realized I'd been standing there for some time in the middle of our room, just staring at my hands with a stricken expression. I shook my head and laughed awkwardly, shoving my hands into my pockets. "Rana... I really like her," I blurted out. He narrowed his eyes. I nodded my chin vaguely in the direction of the pub. "Just had drinks with her." He snorted a breath out through his nose like an angry bull. I shrugged helplessly. "Don't be upset. I know you like her, okay? But it's fine. You were right--I don't think she'd go out with me. We're all just... friends." He swallowed with an audible click. "So," he said hoarsely. "You've got it all figured out, haven't you, smart guy?" I shrugged again, uncomfortable. "Couldn't leave well enough alone, could you? Couldn't find your own friends? Just had to badger and cajole MINE?" "It's not like that," I sighed. "Chill, okay?" He clearly did not appreciate being told to "chill". Something else, though, seemed to strike him suddenly, and his eyes widened. He jumped up out of his chair and barrelled over to me. I yelped a little as he grabbed me by the shirt with one hand and took me by the chin with the other, turning my head aside. "Is that lipstick?!" he demanded. I blushed. "She... gave me a little kiss. Just a little one." He pushed me hard up against the wall. "What did you do? What the fuck did you do to bait her?" "I didn't!" I gasped, squirming. "I didn't do anything--we just talked! She likes me! I don't know. Gah, you bastard--let go of me right now!" He yanked me by my shirt, and then slammed me against the wall once more, growling incoherently. His face was pale, but with two very bright spots of red in his cheeks. "Ow!" I grunted. He was driving me to the brink, and I could feel my inner douche rising up again despite myself. "Stop it--I mean it! You're ruining my shirt. This is organic cotton, loser! It's expensive, and I doubt you could afford to replace it!" "Fuck... you!" he hollered, slamming me twice more against the wall to punctuate each word. His voice was cracking. "Fuck you and your pretentious shirt!" "Fuck you and your disgusting thrift shop wardrobe!" I screamed back at him, pulling at his wrists and trying to extricate him from my shirt with no success. "Fuck your garbage and your filth and your football muscles and your stupid Neanderthal face!" He hit me. Oddly, it was an open-handed slap across my cheek, like a girl might have given in response to an obscene pickup line. The sharp sound of it seemed to bounce and linger in the small room, and for a while one side of my face just felt numb. We both stood still and gasped for breath. "I deserved that," I admitted hoarsely. "Yeah," he agreed with chilling calm. He still held my shirt in one hand, though I thought I could pull away this time if I really tried. "Please let go," I whispered. "No," he whispered back, shaking his head slowly, and then faster. He took a deep breath. "Why... why did she kiss you? Tell me, damn you!" I gritted my teeth, becoming fed up with his jealousy. "No fucking way," I snapped. "I'm not telling you anything if this is the way you're gonna treat me. I can kiss anyone I like, you big stupid stinking gorilla, and it's none of your business!" His breath was coming in short gasps, and his cheeks were nearly purple. I realized finally that his eyes were shining, and damp around the edges. He pulled his hand back again, sharply, and I flinched, expecting another slap. It didn't come. He yanked me forward by my shirt and then shoved me once more, letting go this time as I slammed against the wall. I stumbled and clumsily fell. From my prone position, I could see his enormous feet stepping into his dirty running shoes. "I need some air," he said huskily. "No--no you don't!" I cried in sudden alarm, pushing myself up off the ground. I'd clued in finally that he was really and truly upset, and I felt panicked about having caused it. I stepped in front of him before he could reach the door and pushed on his broad chest. "Get outta my fucking way, princess, before I mess up that pretty face of yours with my big stupid ape fists," he hissed, turning his gaze away from mine. "No," I insisted, pushing harder. "You're not going to do that. You're upset, and you're going to stay here and calm down and talk to me like a human being." "Oh, you think you're so smart, don't you?" he snapped, taking hold of my forearms and wrenching them away from his chest. "Believe me--you don't want to be around when I'm really upset." "Don't I?" "No. You don't." I scowled at him, struggling in his grip. I hated his macho routine, and I hated his denial. "You're not seriously giving me the 'You wouldn't like me when I'm angry' line, are you? Give me a break!" "I didn't say 'angry'!" I smiled evilly. "What then? You gonna cry? You gonna cry over your girl, you big dumb caveman?" He bared his teeth and once more shoved me against the wall. "You idiot!" he screamed, his eyes now welling up dangerously. "You un-fucking-believable MORON!" I took several deep, rapid breaths, feeling an intense burning in my cheeks. I hated him, and I hated myself even more. I wasn't sure whether to spit in his face or apologize, but I was immobile, and he was huffing like an angry dragon ready to spit fire. He gripped me by the chin again, and I flinched and squeezed my eyes shut. I was expecting something painful, but instead there was a hot press of soft lips against mine. I went limp out of pure shock and felt his tongue invade my mouth, searching aggressively. His hard body kept me pinned tightly against the wall. Something inside me seemed to burst asunder, and I was once more seized with that sensation of warm, tremulous electricity that I'd suspected was the feeling of falling in love, but this time it was heightened by a factor of at least ten. I whimpered, and as he released his grip on me, I wrapped my arms around his broad, firm torso and returned the kiss with a sense of desperate panic that came out of nowhere. His kiss. I had never been kissed like this. It was as if he was possessing me. I needed him instantly. My fingernails scraped at his back. He pulled me, and slammed me back again with his chest. We collided breathlessly. He widened his stance to lower himself to my level and squeezed me tightly against the wall. We kissed, sucked, licked, bit. We feasted on each other. We finally came up for air and stared at each other with some astonishment. His shining blue eyes welled over with two large tears. "Fuck your... stupid... pretty face," he whispered, reaching up to quickly whisk those tears away. I ran the tip of my tongue curiously over my lips, as if to confirm they were still there. So many things now seemed to make a bizarre sort of sense. I stared at him in wonderment. "I'm so... sorry," I mumbled weakly. He pulled away abruptly, with a pained look on his face. "Don't. Seriously." I threw my hands up, at a loss. "I... I mean it though. I've been such an unbelievable dick. I... didn't realize.... What can I do? Just tell me what to say." "Stop!" he snapped, holding up a hand and turning his back on me. He scrubbed at his face with empty hands, groaning. "Gah!" I burst out, turning and pounding a fist against the wall. Despite the hard-on that had sprung up in my pants so suddenly, he was somehow more frustrating than ever. "Fuck, Greg! You're so.... UGH! You're impossible!" He half-turned back to me, studying me through narrowed eyes. I blinked at him, the proverbial gears in my head seeming now to turn at a brisk pace. "Neanderthal!" I blurted out. "Diva," he snarled back. The lightbulb went on. I had it--I had him then. He had to be angry with me. He wanted me to drive him crazy. "Fuck you!" I snarled. "You're disgusting! Do you even eat anything but Doritos and Powerade?" I made a show of wiping off my mouth. His eyes blazed. He faced me directly. There was a huge, unmistakable bulge in his sweatpants. "Right... I'm sure your folks gave you Dom Perignon in your sippy cup, yeah? Bet mommy made you pheasant nuggets when the rest of us were chowing down on McDonald's. Pompous little snotbag!" "I see your lips moving, but all I hear is grunting!" I shot back. "Filthy ape!" He tore his shirt off and tossed it in the middle of the floor. His musculature was well defined, even beneath a fairly dense cover of tawny chest hair. "Princess." "Pick that up, you slob--it's on my side." "Make me!" He took a step toward me. There was the barest hint of a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. My heart was hammering against my ribcage. "Come over here and I will." He covered the distance between us in a flash, and once again collided with me, slamming me up against the side of my bureau with his bare chest. The bureau rocked briefly, and a few of my sundries rolled onto the floor. He gripped both sides of my face and kissed me deeply. "Fuck you," he whispered against my lips, "and all your stupid makeup." "It's not makeup," I huffed, pushing against him and kissing him several times fast. "This look takes effort. You've never spent more than thirty seconds on your appearance. Fuck you and your razor stubble and your bargain basement deodorant." He gripped the back of my head and kissed me hard. "Fuck your queer emo hairdo and your stupid celebrity-endorsed conditioner and your... your dry-clean-only designer shirts!" We kissed hungrily. I ran my hands up his bare back, feeling tingles travel up my fingers and all through my body. "Fuck your football muscles and your... huge feet." He collided with me again, beginning to smile in earnest. More things fell off my bureau. He nuzzled against my cheek, and then my neck, inhaling the scent of me. He nipped at my earlobe. "Fuck your girly soft skin," he breathed, "and your skinny little bod. I could break you in half." I groaned and clamped my arms around him. "I could break your heart." "You have already, pretty boy. You break my idiot heart every fucking moment." I was lost for words as he yanked on my arms suddenly and bent double, barrelling into me as if in a football tackle. I grunted, and he straightened, tossing me over his shoulder. His physical power took my breath away. I was barely aware of how he managed it, but I found myself tossed like a ragdoll onto his loft bed. He might as well have been King Kong, taking me in his monstrous fist and carrying me up his tower. Then, he was on top of me. His barrel chest pressed me down into the mattress, and his huge, rock-hard cock, still trapped beneath his sweatpants, collided with my own bulge. I sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. My entire body thrummed like a taut bowstring. I felt like I would cum all over my underpants if he bucked against me a few more times. Greg kissed me aggressively, and then glared down at me expectantly, smirking. "Let's see whatcha got, brat." "Not in your bed--I bet you never change your sheets," I panted. "I don't want to lie in your filth." "Yes you do," he challenged, licking my face and neck with a few broad, sloppy strokes. "Mmm... fuck your deliciousness." "Fuck your hot, sweet tongue!" I groaned. He plunged his tongue into my mouth, nearly choking me. I wrapped my legs around him, keeping him tight against me. I could barely breathe, and it was bliss. He pulled away with a wet smack, and then leaned down again, kissing me softly now, with aching tenderness. "Fuck your beautiful eyes." I sighed dreamily. He began to pull my shirt up, and I wriggled around to help him. "Careful," I whispered. "Sowwy, Pwincess," he teased, grinning. "Am I being soooo mean to your precious, priceless organic cotton?" "You musclebrains have no class! Someone needs to take you shopping." He balled up my shirt and tossed it vengefully over the side of the bed. "Bite your tongue!" I stuck my tongue out at him, and he bit it, growling playfully. He kissed down my neck, and across my collarbone. He kissed down my sternum, and abruptly laughed. "What?!" I demanded, my voice quivering slightly. "You have, like... three chest hairs. Look at you! You're so smooth!" He nuzzled my chest, and suddenly blew a raspberry on my stomach. "Gah!" I yelped, and burst into giggles, writhing beneath him. "Not all of us are so closely related to Australopithecus, monkey man!" Greg blew another raspberry, this time below my navel, and I writhed again, my giggles turning to gasps. He unbuttoned my pants. His eyes flicked up to mine. I gazed down at him as he slowly unzipped my fly. He gave me a long, lingering, sincere look. Pretty Boy "I hope what you've got down here isn't nearly as pre-pubescent as the upper half," he whispered. I furrowed my brow and kicked him sharply in the butt with my heel. He bared his teeth at me and dove back up the bed, grabbing me by the throat and kissing me passionately until we were both breathless. "Get back to what you were doing," I panted. "You were well on your way to discovering the epitome of my virile manliness." "Don't you give me orders, you little snot," he hissed. "The world doesn't exist to serve your whims!" "But you do," I retorted brazenly. "It's all you're good for. Take my cock out, you big dumb man-whore!" He bit my cheek firmly, and I cried out at the burst of bright pleasure-pain. My cock throbbed. "Ass!" I blurted out. "You insulting me, or telling me what you want?" he asked in a low chuckle. I reached around and grabbed both his lower cheeks, round and very firm beneath his sweatpants. "Insulting you," I replied as I squeezed his muscular butt. "You better not leave marks on me." "I'll mark you if I want to mark you," he snorted, nipping at my neck, collarbone, and nipples. "You're begging for it. It's even your name. Markus, Markus! Well, fine. Would you rather be bitten and bruised, or peed on? I'm game for the latter, but then I really would have to change my sheets." "Ew!" I exclaimed, smacking his ass with both hands, hard. He laughed boorishly and moved further down so I couldn't reach his behind anymore. He finally started sliding my pants off, and I shifted to help him out. Soon they had been tossed off the bed to join my shirt. Greg grabbed hold of the elastic waistband of my boxers and stretched it out to its limit. My hard cock strained upward. I waited for him to start pulling my underpants down, but instead he abruptly let go, and the elastic snapped back painfully. "Fuck!" I yelped, kicking him wherever I could reach. He laughed more still, grabbing my legs and forcibly pinning my ankles together. I tried to wriggle from his grasp, but damn, he was strong. He gripped my ankles with one hand, forced them up into the air, and reached down with his other hand to grasp the back of my boxers and pull. "Hey!" I snapped, craning my head around to see him past my inclined legs. "This is truly unsexy! This is not how you take off a guy's underwear--you're doing it as if you're changing a fucking diaper!" He leaned aside to make eye contact. "Maybe if you weren't being such a baby..." he retorted, smacking my ass. "Wah, wah, wah--you're wrecking my shirt; I don't like your bed; don't bite me so hard; that's not how you strip me! You should be in diapers." "Yeah? You're the only one I've seen crying today!" I shot back. He stilled, staring at me thoughtfully. Oops. Too far? I bit down on my lip. Both my ankles were now resting on one of his shoulders. "If you think that's supposed to insult me," he said slowly, "maybe you need to reevaluate your idea of what makes a man. Do I cry? Sure, sometimes. Am I ashamed? No fucking way. The only thing to be ashamed of is being a whiner like you." I swallowed. This was getting pretty real. "Why'd you cry, Greg?" I whispered, feeling small and very vulnerable as I lay almost naked beneath him. Uncovering emotions was even more intense than uncovering skin. Maybe too intense. I could feel my hands shaking again. He took a deep breath, and sighed forcefully. Getting serious seemed to drain some of the heat out of him. "Because..." he mused, slinging an arm around my thighs. "Because, I realized I was going to have to have sex with the most annoying guy on campus. Who wouldn't cry?" After a few strange moments, I laughed. It was impossible not to. "You've got it all wrong, you big lug. Every time you beat off you're having sex with the most annoying guy on campus." He dropped my legs and dove down, blowing a noisy raspberry on my lower belly. I laughed hysterically. "Fuck off!" I screamed, swatting at him frantically. I was keen to heat him back up to the full force of his fire. "That's not how you give a blowjob! Moron!" He grappled my arms and tried to pin me down. I fought him like a badger, but my spirit was no match for his strength. He caught both of my slender wrists, clamping them together in the meaty grip of one of his enormous hands while his lower half pinned down my legs. He held my hands above my head as he pinched and gnawed on my nipples until I was howling. It hurt like hell, but turned me on even more. I'd forgotten how thin the walls were in these dorms--someone in the next room started pounding noisily against the wall and shouting at us to shut up. Greg let go of my hands and took his own turn at pounding on the wall. I was almost surprised he didn't punch right through it. "I'm trying to get laid in here!" he roared. I stared up at him dumbly, almost as astonished as I'd been when he'd kissed me. We knew our neighbours by name. Either they would think we were pulling a prank on them, or this--whatever it was--wouldn't remain a secret for long. Greg furrowed his brow at me as if he couldn't figure out what my problem was. "You gonna keep caterwauling?" he asked, flicking his callused thumbs against my aching nipples. The corners of his mouth curled up wickedly. "Maybe start moaning my name?" I blinked at him a few times, and then mirrored his smirk. "OH GREG!" I hollered at the top of my lungs. "Your dick is SO TINY!" His mouth fell open partway--somehow he hadn't seen this coming. Before he could retaliate, our neighbour cranked up his speakers and, for the next hour, we endured the screaming, thrashing cacophony of Slipknot for our soundtrack, only slightly muffled by the less-than-adequate wall. "See what you've done?" Greg scolded, gripping my chin. "You little shit!" I sucked in a deep breath as he descended on me again. He growled and snuffled like a wild beast, licking, biting, and nuzzling me all over. My breathing ramped up to rapid gasps and huffs. I scraped his back with my fingernails. My pelvis squirmed back and forth, up and down, needing him. "Please... please," I hissed. "C'mon, please!" "Please what?" "Pleeeease... take my cock out!" I sighed pathetically, kicking my legs. "Boxers off! Off!" He snorted and grinned smugly down at me. "I like making you beg. I think I want a little more of that." He rubbed up against me, slowly, maddeningly grinding his hard bulge against mine. "Gah!" I grunted. "Ugh! Greg! Seriously! I... I'm gonna bust. Please, for fuck's sake... I'll cream my shorts! Take 'em off! Take my cock out--fuck, PLEASE!" His grin grew wider, and smugger. He sat back a little and once more grabbed the waistband of my boxers. "That's what I like to hear, pretty baby." He slowly pulled my boxers down, and my cock leaped up, the tip deep scarlet and shining with precum. He pulled faster and finally liberated my feet from the tangle of fabric, tossing it to the floor. "You're naked," he stated, half amused, half sinister. "And... a bit horny by the looks of it." "Mm-hm," I mumbled, settling my legs on either side of him. I nudged him with my heels. "Touch... touch my cock." "You sure?" He grinned and leaned down a little, forming his mouth into a little "o". He blew a soft breath against the oozing tip of my cock. "Ohhhh!" I breathed quiveringly. My toes curled, and my hands bunched up his sheets. "S-still not how you give a blowjob. Idiot. Now... c'mon... grab my cock. Grab it. Greg--I'm serious. Grab me already!" He placed one hand in the middle of my chest and then raked his fingers slowly downward. As he travelled below my navel, nearly making me squeal, his fingers strayed to one side and scraped down my thigh. He blew on me once more. "Ohhh I hate you!" I groaned, squeezing him between my legs. "Bastard!" His rough, callused hand pressed flat upon my thigh and then slid back up, sending an array of tingles across my sensitive, meticulously moisturized skin. It dipped down and cupped my balls, tugging gently. "Oh!" I cried, digging my heels into his back. "Oh! Mm--!" He slid his thumb up between my balls until it rested above my sac, and wrapped his index finger around the base of my cock to meet his thumb, forming a circle, which he squeezed tightly and drew agonizingly slowly up to the tip, milking a large drop of clear precum. "Shhhhit!" I gasped. He kept that ring snugly around the tip of my cock and leaned down, blowing gently, making me twitch. He leaned down closer, extending his tongue, and finally made contact. He drew the tip of his tongue along my slit, cleaning up every bit of precum. He shut his eyes, released a long breath through his nose, and then opened them again. He kissed my cock, tenderly, and slid his thumb-and-finger ring slowly back down my shaft. "Ga... aaah!" I wailed, clamping my legs around him almost involuntarily as the hastily building pleasure deep inside me shot up to a reckless climax. I busted an explosive load across his face. "Fuck!" he barked, jerking back. I was heedless of his reaction as I squirmed blissfully in the throes of my orgasm, reaching my hips up off the mattress. My hands continued to twist and bunch his sheets. I grinned blindly at the ceiling as I let the sensation wash over me, still accompanied by the dissonant clash of Slipknot next door. When I was finally able to focus on Greg's face, I noticed he had a fist pressed against one eye. "You came in my eye, you asshole!" he grumbled. "I came all over you, sucker!" I laughed tremulously, grinning at the spectacular splotches of cum that painted most of his face and part of his chest. "I like you all sloppy-faced. So whorish. Big ol' gay football whore." He snorted and grabbed a corner of a sheet, wiping himself off thoroughly. He rubbed his eye and blinked rapidly. It was a bit bloodshot. "Fuck, that stings." "Now who's being a baby?" "Shut it, you little brat," he grumbled, closing his fist abruptly around my only partially- softened cock. "Ooh!" I yelped. "Ahh--fuck! NOW you grab me?" "I didn't expect you'd be such a hair trigger!" he shot back. "I mean, I know I'm hot, but... man, I thought you'd at least give me a few minutes. What a let-down!" I propped myself up on my elbows, glaring intensely up at him. "Now, hold on--who said I was finished? I happen to be a dynamo in bed, you fucking caveman. Get ready for multiples." "Yeah?" He raised an eyebrow and worked at stroking me in earnest. "Maybe keep the next one outta my face, huh, slick?" "Maybe don't put your face right next to my cock, huh, genius?" I settled back onto his pillow and sighed as he jerked me. It took only a couple of minutes for me to reach full hardness again. I smiled smugly up at Greg. "You like that cock?" He leaned down and kissed my mouth--a long, lingering, wet smooch with plenty of passionate tongue. "I've barely gotten started with that cock, pretty boy," he whispered against my lips. "You've got some work left to do. You think I'm just gonna pleasure you all night? Lazy ass." "Take your pants off!" I hissed. "Let's see what you're... very poorly hiding." I humped against his hardness a few times. "Get up." We switched places, and he took no time to wriggle out of his pants and underwear all at once, kicking them off the end of the bed. His huge erection thumped heavily against his belly. I'd seen his bulge, not to mention the ludicrous size of his hands and feet, so I shouldn't have been surprised. Still, I was speechless. "Quit drooling, princess," he quipped, smirking arrogantly. "You look like a fucking idiot." I swallowed and reached out with both hands, grasping his shaft--hot, surging, and rock-hard beneath its soft veil of loose flesh. I heard his breath tremble. I took hold of his heavy ballocks, squeezing them, weighing them in my hands like fruit. He shivered again. I slid my hands back up his shaft and began to stroke him firmly and rhythmically. Greg's cock fascinated me, impressed me, turned me on, and terrified me all at once. "You like that?" I whispered uncertainly. His eyes blazed. I could tell by the set of his mouth and the occasional quiver of his breath that he was loving it. "Could be better... if you didn't have such girly little hands," he huffed. "Fuck your soft hands. Fuck your moisturizer." "Fuck your big fat horse cock!" I returned, jerking him quicker. "Fuck your... multiple orgasms!" he panted. "Fuck... you," I concluded, smirking down at him. I was running out of things to fuck, but still loving this game, and loving how breathless he was getting from my handjob. "Just fuck you, Greg." "Yeah." He smiled widely at me, and winked. "Fuck me indeed." I cocked my head; my hands paused. "Fuck me," he reiterated, his eyes piercing into mine. "Fuck me, Markus. I mean it." "Huh?" I felt a little tickle travel up my spine. He tucked a hand down into the tight space between his mattress and bedframe and came up with a half-full lube bottle, which he slapped down onto his belly. He reached down again and rummaged until he came up with a strip of condoms. He tore one off and held it between his first two fingers like a cigarette, holding it out to me. I think my mouth fell open a little bit as I reached out tentatively to take the condom. In this scenario, I didn't truly expect it would escalate to actual ass-fucking. If the possibility had entered my mind, I would have expected he'd want to fuck me, which explained my feeling intimidated by the size of his cock. I was something of a twink, after all--the twink always gets ass-fucked by the muscle hunk. "You want me... to fuck you?" I clarified stupidly. He laughed heartily. "That's what I said, smart guy. What, did you expect me to top you? Please--I'd destroy your poor little virgin ass!" "What makes you think I've got a virgin ass?" I quickly retorted. "Please," he said again, snorting. "I can smell a virgin a mile away." "I'm not a virgin!" "But you've never fucked a guy before. Or been fucked by one." "What makes you so sure of that?" He smiled steadily. "The look on your face. The way you touch my cock. I dunno. A lot of things." I felt a bizarre burst of affection for him then. Hadn't I always hated stereotypes? I'd typed him in so many ways, and he was proving me consistently wrong. And his smile--it was perfectly genuine in this moment. "I'm a bottom," he added. "You got a problem with that? Pretty boy?" I shook my head slowly and tore the wrapper open. "Nope!" I grinned back at him as I put on the condom. I was instantly and wholly in love with the idea of fucking him in the ass. Slipknot continued to growl, serenading us aggressively as Greg flipped open the lube bottle and poured plenty into my hands. I slicked myself up. He spread his legs wide apart, propping one foot on the edge of the bed and the opposite knee against the wall. I watched in fascination as he lubed up his fingers and pressed them into his pink pucker. They slid in with apparent ease. I was rapt as he gently fucked himself with those two fingers, working in more and more lube as he did so. "Ready?" he asked, spreading wider for me and gripping his thighs. I nodded and shuffled closer, leaning over him. I propped one hand next to his shoulder and used my other to guide my cock. "I've... never done anal before," I admitted suddenly. "With anyone. At all." "That's okay." He grinned and then snorted. "You can think of me as a nice, tight pussy if it helps." I rolled my eyes and blushed, pushing gently against his asshole. "I just... don't want to... hurt you or anything." I made a face at him to break the seriousness. "Not that you wouldn't deserve it." He snorted again. "You, hurt me? Gimme a fucking break. Seriously--I'm a tough guy. I'll let you know if I need you to ease up. Now just fuck me already, would you? Fuck that ass, princess!" I let out a breath and leaned in, now propping myself up with both hands and pushing forward with my hips. His opening felt impossibly tight at first. "Harder!" he barked. I clenched my jaw and pushed harder against him. The tip of my cock penetrated him, popping abruptly past the initial ring of muscle. It was easier going then. I slid in further and further, sucking in a breath as I did so. "Ohh... whoa!" I exhaled. "That... that really is a nice, tight pussy." "Thought you'd like that." He grinned and wrapped his legs around me, coaxing me closer. "Feel that? Your cock's inside me. Good stuff?" "Real good!" I agreed, feeling an immense sensation of blissful warmth spread up through my abdomen and flood all of my extremities. My balls rested against his ass, and I groaned, long and loud. "Fuuuck! I can't believe this is happening!" Greg grinned like an idiot. His cheeks were very red. "You're kinda cute when you're porking me." I watched him closely as I started pulling out, and then pushing back into him, still tentative. "Get the lead out," he urged, pushing up against me. His goofy smile disappeared fast, and he glared and barked at me like a coach: "I dragged you up here to fuck me, now fuck me already. C'mon, pretty boy--I thought you were a 'dynamo'. Now fuck my ass like you mean it!" I drew myself up and glared back at him, gritting my teeth as I withdrew just to the tip, and then plunged in to the hilt with force. "Yeah!" He hooked his hands around his thighs and pulled his legs up further, bending nearly double. "Again!" I was struck with sudden nervousness about the structural integrity of the little loft bed holding us up. "This bed isn't going to break, is it?" "Not a chance," he said urgently. "The people who design these things know what goes on in them. I could probably have a raging linebacker threesome up here and not come close to breaking the bed. Now let's get some rhythm! Let the music guide you!" He brayed with laughter. Slipknot's crashing drums and frantic electric guitar riffs set a dizzying pace as vocals screamed at us incoherently from the other side of the wall. I hated metal, but the sheer intensity and surreality of it seemed to somehow... fit. I let it inhabit me, and rested my hands on his firm chest as if to hold him down while I arched over him and began slamming into his tight ass over and over and over. I bit down on my bottom lip, almost hard enough to make it bleed. I was scarcely aware of the growl that was welling up in my throat. I became a beast, pile driving him into the mattress with fury as if he weren't three times my size. "Oh!" Greg cried out, throwing his head back. The blooms of colour in his cheeks darkened, and a light sheen of sweat broke out across his face. "Oh! Oh! Fuck!" Spurred on, I bared my teeth and hissed a series of profanities at him, fucking him as hard and as fast as my body would allow. My balls ached from colliding repeatedly with his backside, and from their desperation to release once more. The sensation of his snug passage squeezing me as I mercilessly fucked him was exquisite. I was sweating, too--it rolled down my temples and dripped from my chin. "Oh fuck that's it!" he bellowed. "Fuckin' A! Right there, right there--OH!" His boisterous enjoyment enflamed me so powerfully, I could feel the warm rise of a second climax begin to well up already. "Hhhhaaaugghhh...!" I wailed, slamming into him at a faster pace for several strokes as I gave up control and wave after wave of sweet release cascaded over me. I fought to get my breathing under control as I pulled out, grabbed hold of the condom, and twisted it shut, quickly flipping it onto the floor. Greg let his legs fall with a long, shuddering sigh. "That all I get?" he panted, looking disappointed and irritable. "Condom!" I gasped, stroking myself rapidly. "Still hard!" Pretty Boy Perking up, he quickly tore off a second and pressed it into my hand. I scrambled to put it on. "Going for three, slick?" Greg grinned excitedly, wiping off his forehead. "It's happening!" I promised, hastily re-lubing myself. "Can I do you from behind?" He rolled over gamely, sticking his ass out at me, and I smacked it before positioning myself between his spread knees and pushing inside his scorching hole. My cock seemed to radiate with powerful energy. I had never felt so turned on. "Yeahhh, you're like a bitch in heat!" I growled, leaning over and pressing my face against his warm, sweaty back. I licked him a little, and he tasted salty. "Your cock," he moaned into his pillow, sounding humble for the first time since I'd known him. "Need your cock so much." "You got it, champ," I promised. I gripped his sides and fucked him faster, working up a new rhythm. This time I ignored the music and didn't so much drive into him as connect with him, rocking him in smooth, flowing, graceful strokes of my hips. We didn't yell or swear this time. We just panted, occasionally whimpered, moaned, and mumbled encouragements or affirmations. It was better that I couldn't see his face in those moments, because it was too good. It was too fucking good. I lasted much longer this time. I seemed to spend half the night riding him, and didn't even notice when the Slipknot album ended. We were simply fucking in hot, heavy, dreamy silence. I was almost in a trance when he suddenly shifted forward, and I popped out of him with a little cry of displeasure. He turned round and grabbed me, pressing me down into the mattress. In one swift movement he removed my condom, tossed it away, and descended on me, taking me into his mouth to the hilt. "Fffff--!" I exhaled through my teeth, very pleasantly surprised. "Mmmm." I watched him bob up and down gamely on my resilient cock, his eyes squeezed shut. His tongue swirled around my shaft and across my tip, making me gasp repeatedly. "Teeth," I huffed. "Give me some teeth." He scraped his teeth gently across my most sensitive flesh, and I dug my heels into the mattress and groaned. My hips pushed up against his mouth, and for a third time I cried out in an explosion of throbbing pleasure. I spurted my load straight at the back of his throat, and he swallowed every drop with a determined countenance. When his mouth released my cock with a sloppy smack, it was finally softening and slapped wetly against my belly. I was exhausted and blissfully happy, feeling paralyzed as I gazed up at him. He sat up a little, licked his lips, and gripped his huge cock, jerking himself with both hands in a tugging, twisting motion. I was useless as I watched him work, his chest, neck, and face flushed a deep red. He breathed rapidly and opened his eyes at last, locking them on mine. "Cum for me," I whispered. "Cum all over me. I want it." "You want it, pretty boy?" he panted. "I want it." He pumped his shaft harder and grunted, arching a little and thrusting his hips forward. He gritted his teeth and sprayed an impressive gout of scorching hot cum all the way up my belly and chest, and then several more smaller spurts. I was sloppy with it. His movements slowed, and he finally relaxed, leaning weakly against the wall. I idly ran my finger through a glob of his cum, and licked it. I wasn't sure if I liked it or not, but I licked up a little more nonetheless. The rest I wiped off with his sheet. Greg groaned and grabbed my shoulder, rolling me onto my side. He wedged himself in behind me so that we were spooning, and I smiled as he softly kissed the back of my neck and my ear. "Epic fuck," he mumbled. "You're an insufferable little spoiled brat, but you can really fuck." "You've got a pretty sweet ass," I mumbled back at him, "for a big dumb Neanderthalic football jock." I paused, taking a deep breath. "Can I fuck you again sometime?" "All... th' time," he mumbled, his speech beginning to slur a little. "You c' fuck me... all th' time." I struggled to extricate myself from his sleepy arms. Greg was content to be a slob, but I wouldn't be able to rest without showering off immediately. When I came out of the bathroom and ascended to my own bed, he was snoring away. I had no trouble falling asleep myself--I had begun to find his snores soothing. We stayed fuck buddies for a very long time. It was obvious we'd never work as a couple, but the heat--fuck! The heat was always incredible. I can't say he was ever nicer to me. We had our little moments, but despite annihilating stereotypes I hadn't even realized I'd harboured, he was still a macho asshole jock, and I suppose I remained a spoiled princess who drove him up the wall. I think we genuinely hated each other when we got into yelling matches, but that didn't stop us from ending in a raucous bout of fucking. The bigger the fight, the better the fuck. It was only when my cock was inside him that we seemed to make our peace, without the need for any words. It was a bizarre sort of equilibrium, but it worked for us. If I had been given the opportunity to choose my roommate, I doubt I would have chosen any other. Pretty Boy and The Beast This is a silly story. I took a break from another story that I am working on. I wrote this in one day. My fingers are swollen. I hope you enjoy it. Word of warning, unlike my previous writing, there are a lot of erotic scenes in this story. They are probably poorly written, too. HEALTH ADVISORY WARNING: THIS IS A SILLY EROTIC HAREM STORY. IN CASE ANY OF YOU ARE FOLLOWING SOPHIA, AIN'T NO WAY THAT SOPHIA IS GOING THIS ROUTE. Disclaimer None of this real, it is all made up in my twisted imagination. ......................... Man, I was beat. I'm ready to lay my head down at my hotel, when suddenly my boss calls me and tells me to be back at corporate by eight am. So, I've got to arrange a redeye flight back, pack up my room and hit the airport. By the time I do all that, it is too late to call my wife and tell her I'm coming home, without waking the kids. So I had the cab drop me off in front of the house. I was trying to sneak in without waking my two children. Funny, the whole house is dark except for light coming from our bedroom. Normally, we keep a few nightlights on for the kids, in case they go wandering. My wife's voice. "Baby, are you ready to go again already?" Man's voice. "Sheila, you always turn me on, but how about sucking on it a bit, to get it extra hard." I felt my stomach, disintegrate. My kids were almost certainly out of the house and probably at mys, since they stayed over there frequently. From those words, my wife is obviously having an affair. And she has so little respect for me, that they're having sex in our marital bed. What to do, what to do. Grandpa and Grandma who sacrificed so much to raise me, said to always stay cool. Deep breaths, I owed it to them, not to blow this. I've got a bad temper that I keep behind locked doors. Grandpa said I inherited it from him. He told me how it nearly ruined his life, and he didn't want that to happen to me. Okay, my marriage is over. Don't go for vengeance, try to get evidence. I pulled my new smart phone from my pocket. One of the subsidiaries, that the corporation I work for owns, is trying to break into the smart phone business. As a result of my job, I was given one to use and test. It has an extremely sharp camera and microphone built in. It also has the ability to record directly to a standard USB memory stick, which gives it a lot, more storage potential. I quietly set my bags down and pulled a modified 16 gigabyte stick from my briefcase. The stick had been modified with basically a nine volt battery. That way the phones own battery wasn't drained while recording. I crept up to the open door way, remaining in the shadows of the dark house and started to record my wife, Sheila and my neighborhood friend, Mark Grossberg. They only had the bed side light on, but my phone, had no problems with the light conditions. Sheila had stopped sucking his cock. She had stopped sucking mine, years ago, and she was spread eagled on the bed while Mark pounded into her. She was making sounds of pleasure and running her hands down Mark's chest. "Come on slut, tell me. Do I give it to you better than your pretty boy husband?" "You do me so good, baby. So much better than Steve, I've got to have your cock." "Are you my slut?" He gave her a couple of extra hard pushes with his groin. "Yes, baby. I'm your SLuuuut." Sheila groaned out. Boy, this wasn't helping my pride at all. I better have DNA tests done on the kids and make sure that they're mine. I took a deep breath and kept on recording. Maybe I should have plugged my phone into the wall outlet, before starting, well too late now. "What about Dan Simmons, am I fucking you better than Danny boy?" Keep calm, keep calm, Dan is or was my best friend. Shit, deep breaths Steve, you can do it. Don't let Mr. Hyde take over, don't let the beast out. I was no longer consciously paying attention to what they were saying. But suddenly my brain heard something that broke my control and I was striding into the room. Sheila was screaming and Mark was coming off the bed towards me. I snapped the phone closed and the beast was loose. When I came to, I was just a passenger in my own body. I had Mark pressed up against the wall, with one hand around his throat. I think I was holding him up, about a foot from the floor. Well the beast has always been strong and I do work out. With my other hand I was slapping his face, back and forth. I was roaring at him. Every time he thought to disagree with me, I would tighten and release my hand around his throat. "YOU COME INTO MY HOUSE, MY BEDROOM, MY BED, YOU ASSHOLE AND FUCK MY WIFE! YOU PISS ALL OVER ME AND YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH IT. I SHOULD KILL YOU; I SHOULD RIP YOUR DICK OFF AND SHOVE IT DOWN YOUR OWN THROAT!" "YOU ARE NEVER GOING TO SEE MY WIFE AGAIN. YOU ARE NEVER GOING TO SEE ME AGAIN. IF YOU DO, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU. I WILL CHOP YOUR BODY UP INTO LITTLE BITS. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?" He was crying and blubbering. Mark was an ex-jock, and constantly made a big deal, about his college football career. It wasn't that big of a college. The beast had seemingly completely terrorized him. I wonder what the beast did before I woke up? "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You'll never see me again. I'll move. I'll move far away. I promise you, I promise you." "TONIGHT, NOT TOMMORROW, NOT NEXT WEEK. TONIGHT, BEGONE BEFORE DAWN! YOU FILTH!" The beast threw him in the direction of the bedroom door and he took off running, naked. Sheila was cowering in the corner. The beast snarled at her. "Come here." I was thoroughly amazed with what was happening. It was like watching a movie, I had no control. Every other time the beast had broken loose, four times in all, I had almost no memory of events. "COME HERE!" She crawled across the floor and onto the corner of the bed, nearest me. "I'm so sorry, Steve. I'm so sorry, Steve. I will......" "Shut up," the beast snarled. "Are you sorry about the times with Danny, too?" Sheila flinched. Hmmm, when I talked I seemed to be spitting blood on her face. Didn't feel any pain, though. "I wonder for how long and with how many, have you been nothing but a slut." The beast roughly grabbed her hair and pulled her face inches, from my own. He eyes were wide open with terror. "Please, I'm so sorry. Don't hurt me. I'm so sorry." "You cheating CUNT. You have defiled this house. You defiled this bedroom. You have desecrated this bed. You have betrayed your husband. You have betrayed your children." I don't know how she could manage to look any worse, but she did it somehow. He eyes got bigger, her teeth started to chatter, and her face grew even paler. Man, the beast was on a roll, I mentally gave him a pat on the back. Then the freaky thing happened, he responded. I got this feeling that he would always look after me, whoa. "You will pack up all your things and be out of this house by noon. You will take with you, all the furniture in this bedroom, especially this bed. You will leave everything of mine behind on the floor, neatly arranged. You will respect my belongings. Do you understand?" "How will I do all that?" "I don't really care. Maybe you can ask your brutish brothers that I've loaned so much money to?" "BY NOON!" The beast roared. "Yes by noon, I understand." Sheila shook and put her hands over her head shielding herself. The beast took my body downstairs, and picked up my bags on the way out to my car. I noticed Mark seemed to be gone. He threw my bags into the trunk and put me in the driver's seat. At that point, I seemed to be back in control. I looked at myself in the rear view mirror. I had blood flowing from an obviously broken nose. Well, there went my good looks. I started my car and drove to the hospital. At the hospital, the doctors found I had a broken nose, two broken ribs and a possible concussion. I also had numerous bruises and even two minor stab wounds. They wanted to hospitalize me, but I refused since I had to be into work in two hours. They also brought in the police. I told the police, that as far as I knew I was the victim, but I wasn't sure because I didn't remember much. I stated categorically, that I was the most severely injured in whatever happened. And I stated, that the other involved party was so lightly injured that they had not opted for a hospital visit. That was obviously true, since I didn't see Mark in the emergency room. They did a records check on me and I came up completely clean. I'm a long time local resident and I work for one the areas more successful companies. The last is what did the trick and why they let me go. The officer interviewing me, has a sister that works for the same company. He asked me, if I knew her, and I did. I told him, how I had to get into work, for an emergency that I was called back for. With the way the economy is, public officials and servants, don't want to do anything that might hurt a major employer without good reason. They had my name and address, they decided to trust me for now and I wasn't delayed any further. I had keys to the company headquarters and I let myself in. I also let myself into my boss's office. Audrey Hammer was vice president and my boss. More importantly her office had a full bathroom with shower and a couch. I took a shower, cleaned myself up as neat as possible and went to sleep. Now here is the funny thing, I still wasn't feeling any pain. ........................ I pulled into my parking space and I was happy to see Steve's car already there. I kept on sending him out as my ace troubleshooter. He was grossly underpaid and underappreciated by the corporation. I was getting close to being able to do something about it. But it would mean a showdown with my older brothers. We had equally inherited the company from our parents. They being older and men, they thought they deserved the two top positions. It was getting quite tiring having to work around and over them, to keep the corporation successful. Looking into Steve's office, I noticed that he wasn't at his desk. I continued on to my own, hoping that he had coffee made. My office door was already unlocked and I strode in. Steve's luggage was on the floor and he was sleeping on my couch. I walked over, wondering what time he got in. If he was really asleep, that would give me a chance to stare at his face, a guilty pleasure that I could never fully indulge. Steve is one of the most beautiful men that I've ever seen in my life. In movies or soap operas that I've watched, there are gorgeous male executives or doctors that are portrayed. Steve actually is that gorgeous and he doesn't even seem to realize it. Me on the other hand, I'm five years older, my hair is going prematurely gray, I don't have time to exercise and I look fifty instead of thirty-five. People have never called me beautiful or even pretty, but at least they haven't called me ugly. I walked over to the couch and looked down. I gasped; his face was purple and black with bruises. There was some kind of metal splint thingy, around his nose and taped to his head. I knelt down, by the couch and touched his shoulder. His eyes came suddenly open and for a moment he appeared very frightening. But then his face, took on his normal gentle expression. "Hey, Audrey, look at what the cat dragged in." "Steve, what happened to you?" "Well, let's put it this way. I came home, hoping to surprise my wife. And boy was I surprised. Do you know of any good divorce attorneys?" "Yes, actually I do." I knew the best divorce attorney in town, Heather Alexander. She was my old roommate in college and she owed me. I called her cell phone. "Good morning Heather, it is Audrey. I need your help Heather. One my assistants and good friends, needs a divorce lawyer. Do you have time this morning?......... I appreciate it Heather, see you soon." She didn't have time, but she would make it for me. "Now Steve what happened?" "Audrey, we've got a lot of work to do, today. How about you sit in, while I talk to your friend, that way I don't have to go through things twice, okay?" "Alright Steve, but I want to hear the full story." Steve was the best executive assistant that I could possibly hope for. I don't know, if he knew, how much I relied on him. This job would frankly be unbearable if he wasn't here. ........................ Audrey and I worked for nearly an hour trying to fix the latest mess her brothers had made. I swear this company would be twice as successful if they would just drop dead. Heather showed up, and I told her my story. I had to lie about the beast though, I didn't want them to think I was nuts. I told them that I didn't remember much and was kind of blacked out with rage. I showed them my home movie. I now know, what tripped my circuit breaker back in the house. At one point, Mark asked. "Are you so much my slut, that you would rather fuck me than take care of your kids?" Sheila replied. "I'm your slut, I'm your slut. Fuck me, fuck my kids. I don't give a shit about them. Fuck your slut. Fuck your sluuuut!" Heather and Audrey were completely shocked. I think I growled. "Heather, I would like as much as I can get. I would really, really like full custody of my children. You can sacrifice all of our assets to do it. I don't want to pay alimony, though. Right now, I think my kids are at mys. I would like something, so that I can get immediate visitation." "Steve I'll do the best that I can for you, but even with this full custody might be difficult. Your wife might say, that she only said that, in the heat of the moment. I'll draw up some preliminary divorce papers and have them ready. Give my card to your wife and have her attorney, contact me. Try and stay cool. No matter the provocation. You've probably made one mistake already, don't make another. Understand?" She looked at me seriously. "I'm sorry Heather. I just completely lost control. I'll try and stay cool. Thank you for representing me. Audrey says you're the best." Audrey and Heather exchanged a few private words and Heather left. The two of us worked for a couple of hours, when suddenly I started to get unbelievably nervous. I finally figured out, what was going on. It was getting close to noon and the Beast wanted to make sure, that Sheila was moved out. I had been planning to let her stay in the house. But the Beast had other ideas. Not only did he seem to be out of his locked room, there was no longer a room to lock him into anymore. Oh, shit. "Audrey there is something personal that I need to take care of. It should only last an hour or two. I'm sorry, but could I leave? I'll be back as quickly as I can." "No problem, Steve. You've helped me a lot, and we've got an excellent start on the problem. But be back, as quick as you can." I ran out to my car, as quickly as I could. I was afraid, that if I didn't keep the Beast happy, that he would just take control again. When I pulled up to my house, there was a rental truck and Sheila's two brothers. They were caring the mattress out of the house. There were also two police cars and three officers. I came out of my car with my notebook computer in hand. The cops were quickly walking in my direction. I set the computer up on the hood of my car and prepared my movie. "Officers, I will stand here quietly but there is a recording, I would really like to show you. It is about what happened last night. Please may I?" "You're Steve Blaine, husband of Sheila?" The lady police sergeant, asked quite firmly. "Yes, I am Sergeant. And I promise to answer all your questions, to the best of my ability. If you will just watch this recording, please?" It looked like they were ready to put handcuffs on me. But while the sergeant had a gruff appearance, she had some wonderful eyes that hinted at a lot of empathy. "All right Mr. Blaine. We'll watch your recording. But you stay right here, quietly." "My word on it, Sergeant." Well I started the movie and played the sound loud so they could hear it. I think even a few of my neighbors heard it too. A lot of them were standing outside to watch the show. When it got towards the end and Sheila said. "Fuck me, fuck my kids. I don't give a shit about them." Sheila must have been able to hear it too, because she dropped a drawer she was caring. We all looked over, at the noise and saw her picking up things and putting them back in the drawer. I saw something that I didn't like. "Sergeant, I just saw my wife. Pick up a bag, full of white powder and put it back into the drawer." "I saw the same thing Mr. Blaine." She starts to run towards my wife and she calls for the other officers to follow her. I remembered something that I had seen in the movie and not really thought about. I replayed it to a particular point and zoomed in. Pictured on the nightstand, was a small mirror with white lines of powder on it. I walked half way over to the sergeant. Who was having a firm discussion with my wife. I called one of the other officers over and showed him what my notebook had revealed. He called the sergeant over and showed her. She walked back to my wife and put her in handcuffs. Sheila was crying and blubbering away. Her brothers stood looking on in shock. The sergeant yelled at them to finish their job. The two other officers got in the car with my wife and drove off. "Sergeant what just happened?" "Your wife has been arrested for drug possession. That powder was probably cocaine, but we will test it to make sure." "What about my kids, when can I see them?" I had a frantic look on my face. "Where are they?" She had a very concerned look and tone. "Probably at mys house, about five miles from here." "They are your kids; your wife is in police custody. If I were you, I would just go and get them, if you want them?" She gave me a funny look. "Want them. Of course, I want them. I love them. But what if there is trouble? I don't want an ugly scene happening in front of my two babies." The sergeant's funny look cleared up and she looked almost relieved. "Tell you what. These guys are almost done. I'll stay here with you until they are. Then I will follow you over to yours. There won't be any violence. But while we are standing here, I want a full statement regarding your injuries, okay?" "What ever you want." "I came home, to find my wife and Mark Grossberg having sex. I decided to record it, for evidence. When my wife said that terrible thing about our children, I blacked out. The next thing I know, I'm yelling at my wife to be out of the house by noon. I left the house and went to the hospital. I don't know how, I got injured and I don't know if I injured Mark Grossberg." I happened to have the paperwork from the hospital in my pocket. It listed my injuries. I gave it to the sergeant. She looked at it and whistled. "Aren't you in any pain?" "That is the really strange thing, not a bit. I know it is going to kick in sooner or later. And I'm not really looking forward to it. Do you know, that you have the nicest eyes?" I seemed to be a bit dizzy. She looked at me strangely and quickly helped me lean against her squad car. "Maybe I should take you to the hospital?" "I'm just tired, only two hours of sleep. I got to get my kids and get back to work. We've got a day care center at work, so it will be okay." "All right, but I will drive you to yours." "Anything you say." My soon to be ex-brothers finally finished, and I locked up the house and got in the squad car. During the drive to mys, the sergeant had some suggestions. "If I was you, I would get a temporary custody order for your children, and an injunction against your wife forbidding her access to the family home or your children. Right now, with her in jail, you're in the driver's seat, use this time to your best advantage." Pretty Boy and The Beast Following her advice, I called Heather. She was able to take my call right away and I explained what happened. I gave her the sergeant's advice. She replied, something about, not telling her how to suck eggs. She promised to handle everything and have it done by eleven, tomorrow morning. Somewhere along the drive, I started calling the sergeant by her first name, Rosemary. And I started flirting with her. She started giving me some strange looks, but they were not hostile. "Aren't you being too happy for someone in your situation?" "I'm on my way to go get my kids. I thought I would not be able to see them for weeks. I've got good people, helping me. Why should I let my wife's betrayal hurt me, any more than it already has? My marriage is over. I'm not going to waste any time. I'm going to enjoying life, and enjoy my kids. In other words, I'm going to stop and smell the flowers, Rose." I wiggled my eyebrows at her. "I don't know if your extremely smart, a nut, or if you need a doctor." "Or it could be that I just need sleep." There was no confrontation at mys house. She went to the front door. Told my in-laws to give us the kids and we left. They have never liked or respected me. And I wouldn't doubt that they knew about Sheila's infidelity. My kids were overjoyed to see me and excited to ride in a police car. Hope, my oldest at five, wanted to hear the siren. Luke, the youngest at three, wanted to ride on Rosemary's lap. I didn't help the situation by introducing her as Aunt Rosemary. She gave me a look that expressed a lot of frustration and humor at the same time. "Aunt Rosemary, are you going to come to our house?" Asked Hope. "I can't honey. I'm too busy." "What shifts do you work Rosemary?" I asked innocently. "I work eight to five pm all this week." She replied suspiciously. "Isn't that great Hope, then she can come to dinner tomorrow night at six-thirty. You can show her your doll collection." "That's great, Daddy." "Steve, I never....." "You don't want to upset Hope, do you? Not at this time." I gave her a wide eyed innocent look. "What are you having?" "What do you want Hope, for dinner tomorrow?" "Chicken!!!" "We are having chicken." "The only reason I'm doing this, is for the children. You're acting like you might have a few screws loose. So I better, keep an eye on you. Should I bring anything?" "Hope, should Aunt Rosemary, bring anything." "Ice cream!!" She pulled up, in front of my office building, to let us out. "Okay, I'll bring ice cream." "Thank you, Aunt Rosemary." "Thank you." Luke said too. "Goodbye, Rosemary. Thanks for all your help." She waved goodbye and drove off. .......................................... What the hell am I doing? He might be a suspect in an assault case, if Grossberg decides to file charges. And thinking about Grossberg, I want to bust up his face. What that man did to Steve's beautiful face, should be a crime. I couldn't believe when I got sent to his house on a domestic call. Here I was a life time member of the Steve Blaine fan club, and I thought I was going to have to arrest him. I remember that first Sunday two years ago, when I first saw him with his children at the park. Oh god, he made my knees weak. His looks, his mannerisms, his voice and they way he moved. The man should be a model. Almost every Sunday, he would be at the park. I wonder if he ever noticed how the number of women would increase, when he was there. We even started chatting to one another. "Is he here yet?" "Did you see him last weekend?" "He did the cutest thing." I started taking pictures of the scenery that would accidentally of course, include Steve. And I got called to arrest him, thank you god that it turned out different. Then he said that I had the "nicest eyes", and he flirted with me. It's got to be, because he needs sleep. I've got to be one of the ugliest women, on the planet. I've got the shape of a brick and the face of a bulldog. And he was flirting with me! It is almost a good thing, that his face is so hurt. I don't know if I could sit across from him, with his normal gorgeous face. I wanted to scream like a little girl, meeting a pop idol. Calm down Rosemary. He had his kids calling me Aunt Rosemary! Do your job Rosemary. You've got to visit Mark Grossberg and get a statement from him. The way Sheila was talking about Steve made him sound like Jason, an unstoppable killing machine, preposterous. ..................................... I dropped my children off at the day care center and hurried upstairs to Audrey. My behavior was more than a bit strange. I didn't know if that was lack of sleep or the Beast. But I was being more assertive. That flirting with Rosemary, too. I should be grieving more about my marriage, but I'm treating it, as if it happened last year, and not last night. Something was blocking my emotional and physical pain, I just hoped it lasts. Audrey and I were able to finish our work that day. "Audrey, I think I'm going to be pretty wiped out, tomorrow. Do you think I could have the day, off? "Sure Steve, I might have to call you, but you stay home. And I'm sorry for the rotten situation you're in. Goodnight." "Goodnight, Audrey The thing that scared me most about my injuries, were my broken ribs. While everything else would cause me pain, when eventually I felt it, the ribs, could limit my mobility and I had to take care of my kids. We took a cab home from the office and I ordered a pizza for dinner. Hope and Luke asked me about where Mommy was? I said that Mommy and Daddy had a big fight. But we both still loved them a whole lot, forever and ever. But because of the big fight, Mommy is going to live at Grandma's and Grandpa's house. Now, I've been out of town a lot lately, so I expected my children to be more closely bonded with their mother, than me. The response I got surprised me. "That's okay Daddy, so long as you're staying with us. We're tired of staying at Grandma's and Grandpa's house." I got big hugs from both my children. I knew, they had been spending a lot of nights, at mys, but was Sheila sending them over there, that often? I could hear the Beast, growl. That night, I used the yellow pages to try and find someone, to help us out for a few days. There was one place that advertised an emergency nanny service. I gave them a call and asked them, to have someone sent over at 7 am. Then I hid a key under the doormat. I figured lack of sleep and pain from my injuries had to kick in soon. And my condition may just be so bad, that I wouldn't be able to get out of bed, in the morning. That night I got on the computer and transferred most of our savings from our joint accounts to my own checking account. I then canceled our joint credit cards. I wasn't sure, if I had to go to the bank and empty our safe deposit box or not, I had the only key. I'd think about it. We all slept in the queen bed in the guest bedroom. Hope and Luke always slept better when sleeping with my wife and me. I also figured, this way if they did wake up, I wouldn't have to run down the hall, to comfort them. I woke up in the morning with both Luke and Hope, looking down at me. "Daddy, somebody is ringing the doorbell." Just then my cell phone rang. "Mr. Blaine, this is Gloria. I'm from the nanny service. Are you home?" "Yes, Gloria. Thank you for coming. I'm a little bit laid up. I've put a key underneath the door mat. Can you let yourself in and come upstairs?" "Certainly, I'll be right there." I could hear the front door open and footsteps. The woman that came in appeared to be in her late fifties. I explained the situation. She needed to get Hope ready for and take her to kindergarten, and then take care of Luke until this evening. She set about her tasks with brisk efficiency, but still remained warm with the children. I rested for the day. A messenger from Heather's office dropped off the temporary custody order and the injunction. Heather called to say, that my wife had been served the divorce papers, while in jail. She expected Sheila to be released, sometime that evening. What with the drug charge and the recording, I now had an excellent chance of getting full custody, yeah. While Gloria went to pick up Hope from kindergarten, I stopped at the bank, got a new safe deposit box and transferred most of the contents, from the old to the new one. I left only Sheila's belongings in the old box. At a bank across the street I opened a new checking and savings account in my name only. I then wrote a check from my old personal checking account into my new bank's savings account. When the divorce was settled, I would not mind Sheila getting half. But for now, I didn't want her squandering money, on things like drugs or bail. I was feeling amazingly good, though I was finally feeling pain. It wasn't as bad as I had feared it would be, it was my nose that hurt the most. I decided to pick up some chicken from the grocery store and cook tonight. I had planned on getting it delivered. Gloria left at five and just to play it safe, I asked her to come back tomorrow. Rosemary arrived promptly. We had a wonderful dinner. Hope asked to see Rosemary's gun. Which she did show Hope, but Rosemary carefully explained how dangerous a real gun was. I must have looked terrible to Rosemary, because she kept on inquiring about my condition. I was bad. I decided to milk Rosemary for all the attention I could get. She agreed to sit with us and watch a children's movie. Then I suckered her into giving the kids, their baths. Then I feigned dizziness, and asked her to sit with me during another movie. I said, that I would feel more comfortable if she stayed, while I was feeling so dizzy, just in case mind you. Oh my heavens, I've got the vapors. I've always wondered what the heck "the vapors" were? During the second movie, she told me how she had interviewed Mark Grossberg. She made me promise, not to tell anyone what she said. She found Mark living in a hotel, the next town over. He was absolutely terrified of me. He said that I had chased him into the bathroom and attacked him with no warning. Rosemary then showed him the movie and the part where he is clearly launching himself off the bed towards me and the camera. Then she listed all my injuries and compared them to his cuts and bruises. She told him that she would be happy to press charges against me, but warned him that I might reciprocate. And if I did, he could very well do jail time. Mark decided to decline to press charges. I told her, since I really didn't remember what happened, that I wouldn't press charges either. I would have to remember, to send Mark's wife, a copy of my movie, though! Rosemary left at eleven and I went to bed again with the kids. Time passed, I refused all communication with Sheila. I made her go through my attorney. My ribs got better in a little over three weeks, but my nose still hurt. I redecorated my bedroom with new paint, crown molding and new drapes. I was finally able to buy a bedroom set that I liked. It was a massive four poster bed with matching furniture. Everything was made out of a heavy dark wood. I loved it; I just needed a suit of armor to stand in the corner. I was conning Rosemary into spending, many an evening at my home. I hadn't made a pass at her yet, but I was planning on it. I had to wait for my nose to heal, damn that thing hurt. Things were going okay at work. I had to spend a few nights away, but I was able to hire Gloria for those times. Audrey did everything she could to reduce my out of town trips. Finally the doctor gave me the all clear for my nose. Once again, I feigned dizziness and tricked Rosemary into staying late. During the movie, I went and got us each a bowl of ice cream. When I returned instead of sitting down in my own chair, I sat down next to her on the couch, kind of close too. We ate our ice cream in silence, watching the movie. I gave her time to relax. Then I pounced. I did the old yawn and stretch the arms gag. When she felt my arm go around her shoulders, she suddenly sat up straight. I looked at her innocently and asked. "Is something wrong?" She slowly replied, "No". I pulled her close. She looked at me. "What are you doing?" "The doctor told me today, that my nose was all healed. So now, I don't have to worry about hurting it, while doing other thing, like kissing you. So what I am doing now is called, making a pass. Is that enough explanation?" "Why would you want to kiss me? I'm ugly. I absolutely hid....." I put a finger over her mouth and stopped her idiocy. "You are a healthy young woman, of about my own age. You have wonderful eyes, a lovely voice and a fantastic personality. You have a marvelously healthy body, you keep yourself physically fit. I like you. Now can we neck?" "But...." This time, I used my lips to quiet hers. I had lots of fun that night. She even let me get to second base. We never did see the rest of that movie. Regretfully the night had to end at our usual time. But she agreed to come back tomorrow. ................................... Oh my god, oh my god. He kissed me, he felt me up and he didn't throw up. The sexiest man in this town and he wants to do it again, tomorrow. I've got to be dreaming. I've only necked with one other guy in my life and he was old, uglier than me and drunk. Steve and I did it, for almost an hour. I think he wants to go all the way. Take me now Lord, take me now. ....................................... Things were proceeding satisfactorily with Rosemary. I mentioned that Gloria did occasionally bring children back to her own home, for overnight stays. I then asked Rosemary if she was available Saturday night, for the entire night. She said she was, but she wanted to show me her apartment. ........................................ He's coming here. I get to show him off to my neighbors. He's coming here. I'm going to get LAID! This can't be happening. If I'm asleep, I don't want to wake up. ......................................... Rosemary met me at the door in a dark blouse and black pants. Why do women nowadays always dress in dark colors? Is there something wrong with bright happy colors? I presented her with a box of long stem roses and a box of chocolates. She blushed prettily and her wonderful eyes lit up. I kissed her and our tongues played Twister. It had been almost two months for me, since I had sex. I had an idea. "What have you made for dinner?" "I've got lasagna in the oven." "Can you turn it down, so it stays warm?" "Yes" "Please do so." "But..." "Please?" She walked over to the stove and turned it down. I was right behind her and I picked her up in my arms. She yelped a little bit. "What are you doing?" "I'm sorry Rosemary, but I'm just too impatient. Frankly my dear, I'm just too horny. I figure that we can fool around for awhile. Then have dinner and then fool around for even longer. If that is okay with you, could you please point the way to your bedroom? If not, I will be forced to use the kitchen table." She pointed the way. While I was carrying her, I started to bite the buttons off her blouse with my teeth. Or at least I tried. Man, they make tough thread nowadays. I'm lucky I didn't swallow a button! Rosemary got the idea and started to undo her own buttons. I set her down on her feet and we did the "old take off each other's clothes while continuously necking trick." It is an oldie but a goody. She started to kiss her way down my chest. But I was having none of that. I wanted to please her first. So I pushed her back onto her own bed and dove face first between her legs. There was not an ounce of fat on that woman. She was all muscle and bone. I went to work, nibbling, licking, sucking and humming. You hum against a woman's clit and you can get some amazing reactions. I got some amazing reactions after only about five minutes. "Oh my god, oh my god, OH MY GOOOOOOD." She has a lovely voice when she sings. I had the timer set on my wrist watch. I planned on eating her for the next forty-five minutes; it would be a small snack before dinner, so I wouldn't get too hungry. I had that woman singing an opera and panting like laboring horse pulling a wagon uphill. It was doing wonders at restoring my pride after catching my cheating wife, hurrah. Towards the end of forty-five minutes, she was begging me to stop. But I waited for the buzzer on my watch to go off. I had a plan and I intended to follow it. When I looked up, she looked like she could melt into the bed. I slowly climbed over her body, towards her lips. I kissed and sucked her nipples on the way, her body shuddered. I kissed her lips; she barely had any strength to kiss me back. "Rosemary dear" She looked at me with me with her lovely eyes that were kind of glazed over. "Yes?" "I'm going to fuck you now." Her eyes got very big, but they were still kind of glazed over. I put it in and started with a slow movement. I did that for a few minutes, while she got comfortable. Then I picked up speed. Waited a few more minutes, put her ankles on my shoulders and picked up even more speed. It seemed that she was no longer able to sing. She seemed to be reduced to chanting. I wasn't clear on the language, but it could have been Martian. She started to pound the bed with her arms. Screaming and yelling. "Fuck me; Fuck me, FUCK ME, FUCK ME." Rosemary was trying to sit up and pull me down. But with her ankles on my shoulders, that was quite impossible. So I let them slip down. She grabbed my head and pulled my lips to hers. At the same time, she tried to force her tongue down my throat and into my stomach; she also tried to suck my tongue into doing the same thing to her. It was quite remarkable. Suddenly she did a good imitation of a patient receiving electric shock treatment. She damn near bit my tongue off. I was able to do that to her twice more, before I lost control and came myself. I lay down beside her, and gently kissed her lips. She kissed me back, closed her eyes and FELL ASLEEP! I was ready for a little more action or maybe dinner and she falls asleep, shit. Well, always be a gentleman. I stuck a pillow under her head and then went to the bathroom. I got a wet washcloth and cleaned off the worse of the mess leaking from her vagina. Then I got two large towels and slipped one under her butt, to catch any leakage and the other on top. Then I flipped a blanket over her. I hate to say it, but I was pissed. Just like a little boy, who finds out, he is only getting one present for Christmas. Just like with Sheila. I had to calm down; maybe Rosemary would wake up for round two. I should have been lying down beside Rosemary, and keeping her company. But I had too much energy. I wanted more sex or at least dinner. I noticed a mystery novel on her table that I hadn't read before, so I started to read. I would give her an hour to nap. Then we would see what we could see. .................................. I was so nervous; I didn't think I could eat dinner. Then I found out, he wasn't willing to wait. After the kissing, all I remember was the pleasure. I remember thinking, so this is what it is like, to have someone eat your cunt. So this is what a real orgasm is like, and I lost count of the orgasms. I went crazy with them. Then he inserted his cock inside of m, where no man has gone before. I was no longer a virgin. He gave me little orgasms, he gave me medium size orgasms, and he gave me THREE GREAT BIG ORGASMS. Then finally, I could feel Steve's ejaculation explode within me, and I had a nice mellow orgasm. That made me just shiver. ................................... I walked back into the bedroom after an hour. Rosemary was still sleeping. She had knocked off the blanket and was lying there spread eagled. She no longer appeared to have any bones in her body. But she did have a quite happy expression on her face. Pretty Boy and The Beast But the Beast was pushing me. I had always had a high sex drive, that Sheila had been unwilling, to fully satisfy. Now that I could no longer, restrain the Beast, he was unwilling to tolerate that kind of situation. He wasn't urging me to go out and rape people, but he was making me aware of available women, a whole lot more. And a naked woman, that had promised me a night of sex, had better be up to the job. Again I wouldn't resort to rape, but a whole lot of aggressive persuasion, hell yes. I got the box of chocolates, from by the front door and returned to the room. Mentally apologizing to Rosemary, I opened the box and took one out. I lay down beside Rosemary and started to gently rub the chocolate over her nipple, first one then the other. As the chocolate melted, I would bend down occasionally and lick the chocolate over her skin. She was quietly moaning and squirming about in her sleep. I melted one whole chocolate that way. My fingers got very sticky, so I gently rubbed them on her lips. Her tongue came out and licked the chocolate off her lips. I rubbed her lips more with my sticky fingers and her tongue came out to lick her lips and my fingers. I think she was half awake at the point. I got another chocolate and started to do the same thing. She was moaning louder than before, when suddenly a big shiver, shook her entire body. I looked at her face. Her eyes were wide open and she was gasping. I decided to give her a choice. ................................... A marvelous orgasm shook my body. I had been aware of his lips on my body and tasted chocolate in my mouth. But I had been in a dream like state. The orgasm had fully awakened me and I heard. "Waky, waky sleepy head, you've got two options. Option A, you lie there and I ravish you. Option B, you feed me, then I ravish you." Oh my god, dinner. I had promised to feed him. And he wanted to ravish me again, hot damn! There was so much that I wanted to do and hadn't done yet. But we better eat, before the lasagna was ruined. We had to keep up our energy. "You know, Rosemary. I owe you a huge apology. I was so excited, that I forgot to put on a condom. I hope you're not too upset." I pulled his head down to mine and gave him an open mouth kiss, with everything that I had. When I released him, I spoke. "Steve, you haven't had sex in two months or more. You told me just recently, because of Sheila's cheating, you've been going once a month to your doctor for testing. So far, you've come out perfectly clean." "As for me Steve, take my word for it. There is no way that I have an STD. To put it bluntly, I was virgin. And now I'm not. I could never imagine losing my virginity is such a wonderful way and with such a wonderful man. I am so happy, right now. That I could run, around my apartment building, naked and screaming for joy. Of course that would get me arrested and I would lose my job. But if you want me to do it, I will." "Also, as for getting pregnant, it is the wrong time of the month for me. But as for long as it is possible, between us, I don't want to use condoms, I'll go to my doctor and get on the pill." "Thank you Steve. Thank you Steve, ever so much." I pulled him down for another kiss. I tried to suck his tongue, so hard, that I almost ripped in out. He made a funny noise and his eyes got big. That wasn't all, I planned on sucking. I owed him big time. I don't care how it was going to taste, but I was going to show him, that Hoover should have been my middle name. Everything I've heard or read said that men love blow jobs. If it chokes me blue, I am still going to give him the best blow job of all time, even if it is my first one. We got out of bed. I could feel his cum, still inside my pussy. I didn't want to wash it out just yet, so I put on a pair of panties so I didn't leak too badly. Steve seeing me do that, started to put on his own boxers. They were made out of a deep blue silk. I hoped for an opportunity, to rip them off with my teeth, in the future. I stopped him from putting on his boxers. I told him that I enjoyed the view. He left them off and we went to the kitchen. The lasagna was almost ruined but still edible. Steve ate two and a half, big pieces, along with garlic bread. He needed to get his energy back up, good boy. I ate almost two pieces. I suddenly realized. Hot damn, hot damn, I'm sitting here with a gorgeous naked man in my kitchen and I'm almost naked. The only reason I'm not, is because my pussy, is full of cum. Happy day, happy day. The sex was better than I could have hoped, for my first time. If it wasn't for his kids, I would chain him to my bed. But I liked them, so I had to share. We ate, we brushed our teeth, and I suggested that we sit down on the couch, to watch some television and cuddle. Actually, I wanted to christen every piece of furniture, I could in my apartment. I wanted to be able to look at something in my apartment and say to myself. "Yep, we fucked there and there too." Steve's cock had been pointing, straight out for the longest time, ever since, the chocolates in the bedroom. I better take care of things, quickly. He might think me a tease and get angry. I kissed him hungrily on the lips and I bent down to suck his own nipples. He suddenly hissed, when I did that. "Steve honey, is there anything that you like to do, that you don't get enough of? I don't mean fucking or sucking, because I plan on giving you plenty of that." I growled. "But anything, big or little that you really like? No matter how kinky. I'd be willing to try." He kind of got an embarrassed expression on his face. "Well there is one thing that Sheila hardly ever did for me. I thought it was something quite small, but she stopped doing it for me, years ago. You might say I have an aural fixation, as in a u r a l." He said that with a grin. "When a woman, uses her lips, tongue and teeth on my ear it drives me nuts. Heck, even breathing into my ear, turns me on." I grinned at him, this was too easy. I slowly kissed him on the lips and we tongue wrestled. Then I kissed my way, across his face and to his ear. I started to slowly kiss, lick, nibble and breathe on his ear. And we went nuts. First his body went completely rigid, and then he started to thrash about. But I held on firmly to his head and continued my assault. This was wonderful. His wife wouldn't do this? I was driving him crazy. It gave me a sense of power and I loved making him feel so good. I continued my attack until, he started to calm down, and then I switched to the other ear. AND HE WENT NUTS, AGAIN. I liked this! What an easy way to dominate and control the man. Finally, he could stand no more. He threw me back on the couch and ripped off my panties. Actually, I think he completely tore them apart. His face was filled with lust. I was filled with pride. Here ugly old Rosemary Hoover Watkins had driven a gorgeous hunk, insane with lust. WAY TO GO GIRL, yeah. He put his cock in my pussy. I was saying nonsensical things, trying to egg him on and push him to his limits. I thought that might be a mistake at first, when he started to jackhammer into my pussy. But soon, he had me going nuts, and nuts, and then I went completely insane. When I became aware, again, I noticed the area around the couch, was a complete shambles. And, somehow during all our activity, we even managed to break the coffee table. I'm not really sure how that happened. Well, if it wasn't strong enough for a little bit of gentle loving, I thought with a grin. It was time to get a new one, maybe made out of four inch, thick oak. Steve was looking down at me with his face, still full of lust. It was funny; I swear the color of his eyes was a little bit different. They seemed to be a deeper blue. His cock was still doing an imitation of a rocket, ready for lift off. He picked me up his arms. "I'm sorry Rosemary, but I'm not done with you yet." I put my arms happily around his neck. "That is okay with me, big boy. I want you to fuck me tonight, until you can't fuck me no more." "Then it is going to be a long night." I happily snuggled against his chest and for the heck of it, I started to suck and chew on area right above his nipple. I wanted to give him, the first hicky, I'd ever given anyone. He started to shiver. "Rosemary, I don't mean to break the mood. But I would like to eat you again." Oh, that wonderful man. I started to lick his chest. "Only problem is, while I can eat you all day. I'm not fond of tasting my own semen. Would you mind washing yourself out?" It was a little bit of a mood breaker. But I understood. From what I had heard most guys, had the same hesitation. Now for the past fifteen minutes, my house phone had been going non-stop. While Steve carried me to the bathroom, I grabbed one of the handsets on the way. I put the phone to my ear and answered. It was my good neighbor and friend, Beth. She screamed in my ear. "ROSEMARY, ARE YOU OKAY? ARE YOU BEING RAPED? We're all standing outside your door and we're ready to break it down. But we figured since you're a cop, we better wait and see." "Honey, I'm not being raped." I hummed into Steve's chest and gave it a long lick. "I'm being RAVISHED, AND I LOVE IT. And he is getting ready to ravish me some more. So I'm sorry, but not very much, we might be disturbing your sleep tonight." I pulled my head up to tongue and bite Steve's ear, he froze in his tracks and shivered. Oh yeah, I could get used to this. "Is it, with that gorgeous guy that came to your door? The one, you have been talking about?" "Oh yes, indeedy it is. And he looks even better naked, than he does with clothes." "Enough talking Rosemary." And with that Steve, bent down and fused our lips together. I couldn't seem to figure out, how to turn the phone off. So I dropped it, into the hallway fishbowl. Outside my apartment, I could hear loud laughter, cheers and whistles. Most of my close neighbors were single women. And I had made it a point, to befriend them. I'm a cop, protect and serve. Well tonight, I was going to be keeping them awake. I just hoped that they didn't call the cops, on me. We decided to both get cleaned up, so we showered together. I tried to get nasty in the shower. But Steve didn't want to. He said that it was hard to get into comfortable positions, and we could always slip and fall. It sounded like the voice of experience and it made sense to me. We did, do a lot of four play, but nothing to extreme. We dried off, and I ran ahead of Steve into the bedroom. Before we had been in such a hurry, that we had made love on top of the blankets, I ripped them off the bed. I had just bought some special deep red satin sheets. It was time to get my money's worth. I pulled Steve to the bed. "Steve, would you mind? I like to do a sixty-nine." He answered me with a grin and lay down on the bed. I slowly positioned my pussy over his mouth and he went to work. My god, the man was a virtuoso. I came within the first three minutes. It was only a little, but I still had an orgasm. I screamed a little and I swear I could hear a muffled cheer, from Beth's apartment next door. I remembered that I should be taking care of Steve. I bent down and started to lick his hard shaft. Doesn't it ever go down? I lick, I nuzzled, I made worship to it. Steve gave me another orgasm, and I screamed into his cock. There was that sound again, from next door. I wanted to shout obscenities to Steve. But I remembered his video of his wife Sheila and even though I was half out of mind, and wanted desperately, to scream some of the same things to him, I did not. I wanted do to nothing, that might be a memory trigger, and that could bring back that horrible day for Steve. I finally took his penis into my mouth. It tasted a lot like sweat and maybe a little sour from the pre cum. But what the smell and taste meant to me, was sex. A man was eating out my pussy, for all he was worth. I went nuts on his cock. I must come from a long line of sword swallowers, because I deep throated that sucker on the first try and I kept it there. Humming and screaming with my throat. I wanted to beat Steve at his own game. I wanted to make the man, cum his brains out. He bucked like mad and his mouth on my pussy went into overdrive, he didn't cum but I certainly did. I pulled back from his cock, into a sitting position, screaming like a banshee. The cheer from next door was almost louder than me, fuck em. I was panting away like a steam engine. When I composed myself, I bent down again to Steve's cock. Maybe I could get his kids to move in with me, that way, I could keep him chained to my bed. How could the man, have such control. I remembered how on that horrible day, he said that he didn't feel any pain. I wondered if that had something, to do with it. I was not going to give up. I was going to make that man cum, and I was going to suck him dry. I don't know how many times he set me off, but finally I did it, or he did it. He came with a roar into my pussy that set me off. But I had the sucker deep in my throat and I wasn't letting go. I felt his cum, fill my belly and I swallowed with my throat. When his penis started to go a little limp, I backed off and just had the head in my mouth and sucked furiously. I wasn't going to let a drop escape. Everything that I had heard, said that men, love women that swallow. So it wasn't the best tasting thing on the planet. I was going to treat Steve's jizzum as the most precious elixir imaginable. When nothing more would come out, I started to clean his cock and balls with my mouth and tongue. He was gasping and completely limp, beneath me. I finally took my pussy off his face, time to give Steve some fresh air and make it easier for him to breathe. But I still kept at his dick, with my tongue and mouth. When he was all clean, I started sucking on him again. I was going to return Steve's pocket rocket, to its former glory and I didn't care how long it took. If I could write a story about this night, I would make a mint with lonely women. All night long, we did it. Finally when I was completely spent, Steve gently washed me and carried me briefly into the guest room. He found some new clean sheets, blue satin, and repaired the bed. He carried me back to my room, cuddled with me and we fell asleep. We slept for a few hours, when Steve awoke me with a kiss. He was already showered and dressed, and looking as handsome as ever. He apologized, but he said that he had to go and pick up his children. I gave him a sleepy smile and said that I understood. He bent down and kissed me again, promising to call. And I knew he would. I was completely wiped out, and I had no energy to see him to the door. I trusted him to make sure the door locked, so I closed my eyes and went back to sleep. ............................ Well, that was a wonderful night with Rosemary. She was a slow starter, but once she got going, wow. I opened the door, looking down at my feet to make sure I didn't stumble and gently pulled it closed, making sure the lock latched into place. There were flashes of light, going off around me. There were five women, standing there, some with cameras. They were clapping and cheering. I was a bit embarrassed, but I bowed and thanked them gravely. Then as one, they presented all their right hands, like they were royal monarchs. I figured what the hell, they looked clean and I went down the line, kissing their hands. I strode down the hallway, singing an old Irish tune that my grandfather had taught me. I swear I heard the ladies sigh, behind me. The next few months were nice. I didn't get to spend too many nights with Rosemary, because of Hope and Luke. But the nights, I did spend were always wonderful. There were just two problems with my relationship with Rosemary. The worse was that she seemed to be holding back emotionally. We would start to make some progress, and then she would retreat mentally behind some mental walls. The sex was always great, but the emotional commitment was lacking. The other problem, that drove me nuts. Were the damn dark clothes she always wore. She would wear black or dark gray all the time. Occasionally, she would wear a white blouse. But that was almost the same in my opinion. I wanted to shake her and scream at her. "Wear some happy colors woman, stop looking like you're a mortician, or going to a funeral!" My divorce was proceeding; we had a date set with the judge. Heather had made them an offer, but they had refused. She warned them, that they would be lucky to get better from the judge but they still refused. From Heather, I got the story of my wife's adultery. It seems about six months before, I caught her with Mark, my ex-friend Dan, had talked her into going to a party, while I was out of town. Well, he plied her with drink, and then weed. When she was well and truly buzzed, he introduced her to coke. The coke had completely lowered her sexual barriers and they started a two month affair. The affair consisted of wild parties, when I was out of town, cocaine and sex. Dan at some point became frightened that I would find out, so he passed Sheila along to Mark, like she was a baseball card. And that slut went along with it. So she continued to cheat with Mark, until I caught her. Sheila had received a misdemeanor drug conviction, then was placed in drug rehabilitation and was now still in therapy. She had some crazy notion, that I would forgive and take her back, or at least offer her shared custody of the children. WAS NOT GOING TO HAPPEN! But in an effort to convince me, she had passed her entire story on to Heather, and asked Heather to tell me. She also had voluntarily offered to let me speak with her therapist and her therapist had been told, to speak openly to me about her condition. I had an unsatisfactory sex life for years, because of Sheila. Yet, she had willingly become Dan's and Mark's slut. So, there were some drugs involved, it didn't affect my opinion. She wasn't doing drugs, when I was home. She should have seen at those times that she needed help, but no, she continued to be slut. She had turned on me and she had turned on our children, passing them along to her parents as soon as I left town. What kind of love does that show for your children? After my parents died, my grandpa and grandma fought for almost four years, to get me out of foster care and to get custody of me. They exercised to improve their health. They got part time jobs, working thirty hours a week, each; to improve their financial position. They died their hair and hid their canes, to look younger. YET MY SLUT WIFE, PASSED OUR CHILDREN ALONG TO SOMEONE ELSE, SO SHE COULD FUCK! Her parents had never liked me and never really like our children, too. They thought I was too pretty and not masculine enough, to stand beside her. Since our kids were quite beautiful, they were extra hard on them, and tried to toughen them up. Like people with extra superficial beauty, might be physically weaker or something. Aargh, well they would never see my kids again. And, my ingrates would never be able to come to me again and sponge off money, too. Well the day of the divorce finally arrived. I went to the court and we showed the judge our evidence. She looked at the movie, and looked at my wife. She looked at the movie and looked at me. The judge looked at the movie and looked at my wife, like she was crazy. The judge settled the divorce with same terms as Heather's initial offer. This upset Heather, because she thought we would do better, but I was happy. My ex-wife got half our assets and half of our retirement accounts, but not half of my company pension. I had to pay her, for her half of the equity in our house. I got full custody of the children! Sheila got two, four hour, supervised visits per month. I paid her no alimony, and she paid me no child support. I also had to carry her on my medical insurance for the next five years, unless she gets married.