20 comments/ 90818 views/ 69 favorites Psych By: Tall_poppy This story has a slowish build-up -- because that's the way I like it. Hopefully you will too. The first chapter sets the scene, so if you're looking for racy, hang on for chapter 2. It's nearly done. This is copyright and all that, so please be respectful of my rights as the author. * Chloe sat further back on the couch, pulling a cushion onto her lap and sobbed, hands clutching at the tasseled edges. "I'm so sorry...I can't believe I'm still crying like this after a year!" she almost moaned through gritted teeth. "You have nothing to be sorry about, Chloe. You need this. It's OK. After all, if you can't cry on your therapists' couch, where can you? And anniversaries are always hard..." said Eva with a sympathetic, understanding smile. Chloe looked at her blearily and for the umpteenth time thanked God / fate / whoever had delivered her to the woman sitting opposite her. Eight months before, she had been ready to give up, give in, or do something monumentally stupid. She had been drinking way too much; hanging around people who were bad for her and fed her spiral into disrepair with drugs and false camaraderie. Now, while she was still devastated and hurting, she was at least able to eat, talk and carry on some semblance of living. Exactly one year before, she had been in an accident while driving home with her partner. Her partner had died, while she had sustained whiplash, concussion and a broken arm. The reality of her life after Paula was not one she wanted to contemplate. For a long time she wanted to die. The wanting changed into active planning and her friends and family had stepped in and taken over. Her oldest friend, Gail, who was also a therapist, had after a lot of careful thought found her someone to see and told her in no uncertain terms that the choice was no longer hers -- the appointment was made and she was escorted there by her mother and Gail. Eva had let her set her own pace. She refused to prescribe how her healing should progress. While some people eventually grew impatient and started telling her she needed to 'put it all behind her and carry on living' or 'what would Paula want you to do?' Eva had clucked her tongue at their advice and just gave Chloe the space to deal with the sharp, acrid emotions of loss. The first time she opened Pandora's box and allowed herself to feel some of her grief, she had the mother of all panic attacks. Eva calmly came and sat next to her and talked her through it, allowing Chloe to anchor herself to Eva's voice. Eva asked her permission to hold her hand and Chloe, never one to do things in half measure, thought "Fuck a hand" and the next thing Eva knew, she was holding a shuddering, sobbing, skinny frame to her chest, feeling quite overwhelmed by the trust placed in her by the frail person on her lap. Whenever she had an attack in a session, Eva would be by her side, holding her and gently coaxing her to breathe her way through it. "Breathe, Chloe...just breathe and listen to my voice...we'll get through this together...just listen to the sound of my voice and keep breathing...just like that..." They developed a very close therapeutic relationship. Chloe realized in retrospect that Gail had made a very canny choice. Not only was Eva an expert in helping people through the trauma of bereavement, but she was physically just Chloe's type. To a 'T'. If she had to make a list of the attributes she looked for in a partner, Eva would tick every box. She was a little over average height with straight, silky, very dark hair and eyes so blue Chloe just wanted to immerse herself . Sometimes, when Eva said something to her, she had to ask her to repeat herself simply because she had been staring, lost, into her eyes. The rest of Eva was equally attractive to Chloe -- she had the sexiest feet Chloe had ever seen and she had long, brown, delicate fingers, what she thought of as 'artists hands'. Her nails were always neatly filed but not long and she used a clear kind of polish for her finger-nails and toe-nails. She seemed to have a skin-tone that always looked tanned, even in the dead of winter. When she stood up she uncoiled rather than stood and Chloe found this utterly absorbing. She would always wait for Eva to rise at the end of the session before standing up herself, just so she could watch the woman's fascinating grace. She had a ready smile and a musical laugh and despite what she did for a living she never appeared jaded or cynical and she often gently teased Chloe into laughing at life and her role in it. Despite Eva being every inch the professional and being very careful about how much she let slip in their sessions, Chloe knew Eva was in her mid-thirties and she obviously took care of herself. She looked firm and well... edible to Chloe. And those breasts...holy mother of God was biology good to her. Eva seemed to take care not to wear clothes which were too revealing, but she often wore fitting tops which showed off the shape of her breasts and even in her bereaved and desperate state they were the first thing she noticed about Eva after her eyes. The days she had a panic attack during a session, she would nestle her head between them, sighing contentedly without even realizing what she was doing. On top of all of this, Eva had an ass that could best be described as bewildering. On some level, she knew Gail had deliberately chosen someone she could be attracted to -- almost as if she was willing Chloe to see there was life after Paula. She had no idea if Gail had said anything to Eva when she made the referral, but knowing her friend she probably had. She had caught Eva looking at her curiously when she interrupted one of Chloe's more longing looks. It was around about the time that she started to waft off into the spell created by Eva's baby-blues that Chloe realized she was not quite ready to give up on life just yet. The evening after the session where Chloe realized that she had actively perved her therapists' breasts for the first time, she nearly cried with relief. She immediately phoned Gail and wept over the phone to her. Gail was initially a little taken aback by the wailing until she realized what Chloe was trying to say. "Let me get this straight...you're crying because you perved your therapists' breasts?" "Yeess!" Chloe wailed. "Sooo, this is a bad thing?" she asked, feeling justifiably confused. NOOO!" Chloe yelled, "This is the first time I've even looked at or thought about someone in any kind of sexual way since Paula...you know..." "Sooo, a good thing then?" "Yes, most definitely a good thing!" Chloe beamed. "Although..." Gail sighed. That was so Chloe. "Although what, sweetie?" "Aren't I just a walking cliché?? I've got the hots for my therapist!" Gail sighed again. "Just because you looked at her breasts doesn't necessarily mean you have the hots for her, Chlo, it just means your sexuality is reasserting itself, you big dyke." Chloe felt something she hadn't felt in a long while -- a big belly laugh rumbling up her torso. It made her happy and as soon as she recognized this, it gave her a deep pang. Whenever she started to move on or felt an inexplicable moment of happiness despite her loss, she felt relief and guilt. Relief that she wasn't actually dead inside and guilt that she was having this moment, but Paula was not there to share it with her. Survivor guilt, Eva called it. After every session, Gail and Chloe played a game whereby Chloe pumped Gail for information about Eva which Gail always shrugged off with the answer "You know I can't divulge personal information about Eva to you, Chlo." Gail assumed it was the usual fascination a client often holds for who lay behind the therapist persona. Despite the fact that she felt an obvious attraction to Eva, Chloe was still lost and felt very alone. She knew how professional Eva was and didn't entertain the slightest thought that "Miss Heterosexual of the year" with her gold wedding band coiled around a perfectly tan finger would ever be a viable option to pursue. She agreed with Gail when she told Chloe that she was probably perving Eva because she was a safe person for her to fantasize about because of the secure space they had created together and because she was sure it could never go anywhere. As a freelance writer, Chloe had a lot of leeway -- there was no 9-5 job to anchor her. She worked from home. Well, home was probably a loose term for where she lived. It was a house, but was definitely not a home. She had not been able to go back to the home she shared with Paula after the accident. Her mother and Gail had packed up her place and she had moved in with her mom. When she was ready, they helped her find a new place and moved her in. She hadn't unpacked in the two months she had been there and still lived out of boxes. The impermanence suited her, like she was unwilling to commit to anything lasting. Even the lease was only for six months. Besides her family, friends and work, the only thing she had committed to in the last year was therapy. *** Eva watched Chloe to her car, waved goodbye then closed the door and walked back into her consulting room where she slumped down into her therapist's chair. The young woman confused her. She had been doing this work for over fifteen years, but had never seen someone like Chloe. She was so passionate and, well, 'out there'. She felt every emotion she had fully -- immersing herself in it; rolling around in it; feeling her way through it until it made sense to her. Eva had so much admiration for how Chloe had started to put her life back together again. She knew how much courage it had taken Chloe to start living again, given the shell she had been when her mother and Gail had deposited her on Eva's couch all those months before. It had taken Eva weeks to break through to her, gently coaxing her story out of her, talking her through her panic attacks and helping her heal. When Gail had come to her and asked her to take Chloe on as a personal favour she had hesitated. Gail and her were colleagues and although Gail was younger, they considered each other friends. Chloe was Gail's best friend. Chloe and Gail had grown up together and remained very close. Gail was a fiercely loyal and protective friend, standing up for Chloe when Chloe cried herself to sleep at night when she was taunted during puberty for being 'different.' Apparently Chloe had always known she was gay and saw no need to keep it a secret, being part of who she was and all. From when they could put this into words, the two friends talked it through -- the bond between them was extraordinary and both accepted the others' sexuality with ease. Eva hesitated because she enjoyed Gail's friendship and she realized that this effectively put paid to any socializing they would have done in a group setting, as Chloe was bound to be invited and Eva would not attend a social gathering where she knew clients would be attending. She kept very strict boundaries. Gail understood her hesitation, but ended up begging her, saying that she didn't trust anyone else with her friend. Eva eventually relented. Then began eight of the strangest months of her life. Gail had of course explained to Eva that Chloe was gay; that Paula had been her life partner and that barring legislation to the contrary, they would have been married. She described what kind of person Chloe was. Only after Eva had agreed to see her, did Gail drop her bombshell. "I have a confession," she said, colouring slightly. Eva looked at her in some surprise. "OK...? What's going on?" "I want to show you a picture of Paula. But you have to promise not to freak out when you see it." "OK" said Eva uncertainly. Gail fished out a picture of a very tanned, young woman with green-blue eyes and dark, silky hair, pouting theatrically for the camera. "That's Paula..." she said, trailing off, a lump in her throat. Paula had been a good friend to her as well. "Ah..." said Eva, then handed the picture back to Gail and arched a slim eyebrow in her direction. Gail blushed. "I'm assuming you didn't convince me to take your friend on just because I'm a superb therapist, then?" Gail's blush went several shades deeper. "Evie," she said, using the diminutive everyone used when they wanted to charm Eva, "I...ah...look, you know how much I respect you and the work you do. You know I think that you are, quite frankly, a brilliant therapist. I was just hoping that the fact that you are her type might...umm...jog her, you know?" Gail's eloquence appeared to have deserted her. Eva's eyebrow was tracking up her forehead again. Then it dropped and she sighed. "OK, but I do wish you had just been honest with me." Gail had the good grace to look embarrassed. She apologized and swore that she hadn't meant to manipulate her, but that she was just so worried about Chloe. After she met Chloe for the first time, she wished that Gail had included her in the picture too. Chloe had grown up in a coastal town world-renowned as a surfing hotspot. Paula had headed to the town for a holiday with a group of friends and had met Chloe at a surfing clinic Chloe was teaching over varsity break. Paula never left -- alone that is. Chloe and Paula moved to the big city a few years later and set up house together. Gail had been there a few years already, having studied there and set up practice in the suburbs. Eventually, Chloe's mother moved down after her father passed away. When Gail and Chloe's mother had arrived on her doorstep with Chloe in tow, Eva had not expected this creature. She was very thin after months of self-neglect, but she was still utterly luminous. Her grief just seemed to make her more so. She had blonde hair which cascaded down her back and it was bleached almost white-blonde by the sun. Her eyes were a kind of impossible to describe tawny brown -- almost leonine, and a smattering of very light freckles dusted her nose and cheeks. There were little crinkles in the corners of her eyes which could only have come from squinting into the sun during long hours of surfing. The only word Eva could come up with was 'fetching'. Chloe was fetching. As a result, Eva was on her back foot from the beginning. She had been unprepared for Chloe to look the way she did. She was unprepared to react to Chloe the way she did. All in all, she simply felt unprepared. Over the weeks, Eva learned to prepare herself when she knew Chloe was coming. She had no idea why she found the woman so disconcerting. She just knew that she was thrown off balance most of the time when Chloe was around. She hid it behind a very professional persona and took great pains to keep very strong boundaries with Chloe. This was, admittedly, very difficult to maintain when she ended up rocking her on her lap during panic attacks, but how could she stop now when the precedent had been set? She just figured it wouldn't be therapeutic. Once Chloe started to come out of her deep depression, she slowly started to revert back to the person she was before the trauma and Eva was treated to the gentle unfolding of this woman who sat before her week after week, trying to put her life back together. She discovered Chloe had a wicked sense of humour -- she was very sharp and very funny. She was somewhat self-deprecating, but not in a way which ever really put herself down. She simply seemed to enjoy making other people laugh -- even if it was at her expense. She started to fill out physically, gaining back curves removed by neglect and abuse. She started surfing again, gaining a healthy glow to her skin and rediscovering muscle tone. Instead of sweat pants and old t-shirts, she once again started taking care in her appearance, dressing usually in beach shorts, jeans and t's or loose cotton tops. She had an artlessly whimsical style of dress. The therapy eventually got to the point where Chloe felt she wanted to start talking about her sexuality and dating again. She by no means felt ready, she related to Eva, but she wanted to start exploring herself as a single person -- and that included exploring herself as a sexual being again. Eva felt something shake loose inside her when Chloe said those words. She started to feel a bit faint and with horror she realized that she was beginning to blush. Luckily, with her dark skin tone, it wasn't as noticeable as it would have been on someone else. She silently thanked her Persian ancestors. She thought she managed to cover it up rather well, but she did catch Chloe looking at her rather curiously. "Are you OK?" Chloe asked. "Yes, sorry, feels like I swallowed wrong." She said lamely, not meeting Chloe's eyes for a few seconds. The session was nearing a close and Eva was relieved, because suddenly everything made complete sense to her. She pulled herself together, finishing the session on a composed note and escorted Chloe to the door, letting her out before walking back to her room in a daze. And that's when she found herself slumped in her chair breathing deeply with her head in her hands. "Shit..." she said softly to herself, "shit, shit, shit, SHIT!!" With her training and that training's insistence on inward focus and self-insight, she could not believe it had taken her so long to come to this realization. She cast her mind back to childhood, to puberty, to young adulthood and unbidden memories came flooding back. She had always been good at putting up a façade. She had always been good at hiding her emotions. She had always been good at reading other people and figuring out what made them tick -- yet always struggled with her own emotional turmoil. Sure, she had learned ways of dealing with things in a psychologically mature way, but not before crushing an intrinsic part of who she was. As far back as she could cast her mind, events and people started to come back to her -- the crush she had had on the older daughter of friends of her parents. The teacher she couldn't look in the eye for an entire year for fear she would be able to read her adoration there, fear that it was as on display as it felt for all to see. No-one guessed. Everyone just thought she had grown out of her tomboy phase. That she had arrived at puberty, become attracted to boys and therefore more interested in becoming more feminine. While part of that was certainly true -- she was also definitely attracted to men -- she realized to her horror that she had simply shut down a part of herself when she noticed that it was not what the other kids perceived to be 'normal.' She changed herself gradually until she blended in. She had kept an absolutely iron-clad control over herself ever since. Over time, she could look at beautiful women with absolute impartiality, and her attraction was so pushed down in her subconscious that she herself forgot it was ever there. The undeniable truth appeared to be that these feelings had resurfaced. Another undeniable truth appeared to be that Chloe was the catalyst. She finally realized that it was not confusion she felt towards her beautiful client. She had to admit to herself that she was deeply attracted to Chloe. She also admitted that it was something she would never allow herself to act on. Ever. *** Chloe walked out of the session feeling off-centre. She rang Gail up and asked her out for a drink, meaning to pick her brain. As soon as Gail walked through the door, Chloe blurted: "You did tell her I'm gay, right? I mean, she knows I'm gay. I know I've said so. And besides, I've talked so much about Paula & I don't know any guys called Paula...I definitely haven't made a secret of the fact..." she mumbled as she ran out of steam. Gail looked at her with puzzlement radiating out from her face. "Huh?" Chloe was very flustered now. "EVA!" She practically yelled. "She knows I'm gay, right?" Psych Ch. 02 Thanks to everyone for the great feedback regarding the first installment. Please read "Psych" before attempting Psych -- Chapter 2, otherwise the characters won't make much sense to you! While the thermostat has been turned up ever so slightly in this chapter, the integrity of the characters hopefully still remains the same. The story continues at the exact point the first installment left off. Hope you enjoy! Tall_Poppy * Eva moved her hands up and lightly caressed Chloe's arms with her fingertips. She couldn't believe how soft her skin was. She felt Chloe shiver against her and the very light downy hairs on her arms stood to attention under Eva's fingers. She became aware of two very hard points pressing into her back which seemed to be moving in slight circles with each (progressively deeper and deeper) breath Chloe took. 'Oh for Gods' sake,' she thought to herself, 'that's the most ridiculously sexy thing I've ever felt!' She felt an overwhelming desire to turn around and look at this woman who had turned her life upside down. "Chloe, I'm going to turn around now..." She heard a sniff and realized that Chloe was crying quietly into the space between her shoulder-blades. "Baby...let me see you! What's wrong?" "I didn't know if I'd ever see you again." "Oh, Chloe...I'm sorry, baby, more than you will ever know. How can you still respect me after everything that's happened?" That stopped the tears. Chloe was dumbfounded. "Well, of course I respect you! Why wouldn't I? I respect the hell out of you..." her eyes glinted naughtily "In fact I would like to be given the opportunity to show you just how much I respect you...all night long if possible..." Eva started laughing and Chloe grinned back at her. "I love your laugh," she said, moving her body against Eva. She shifted her leg slightly between Eva's and rocked her leg upwards in a seemingly innocuous gesture, making contact with Eva's mound. Eva felt something liquefy within her. Chloe sidled up her body until she was as close to her lips as she could get without actually kissing her. "And I love these lips. I've been dreaming about these lips since I last touched them..." Eva could feel her breathing change as she felt the whispered words against her slightly parted, full lips. "Chlo..." she said with a groan "I'm not sure I can..." "What, Eva, what is it you don't think you can do?" Eva's eyes fluttered closed. Before she had time to think it through, Chloe's lips were on hers, claiming hers with a tenderness and sweet passion she could scarcely believe. Almost as if in a dream, she felt a silky tongue press softly at her partially closed lips. Her will to fight left her the second that tongue touched her lips. She felt her lips part to accept Chloe's soft probing and their tongues danced against each other. Eva felt Chloe moan against her mouth rather than heard her. It was utterly, beautifully, softly sensual and she did not want it to end. Eventually Chloe pulled back. "Was that it Eva? Was that what you couldn't do?" She smiled at her dreamily. "If that's the case I'm sure glad we got it out the way..." Eva stared at her. "You're kind of impossible, did you know that?" Despite her mock indignation, Eva was drawn to the softest lips she had ever tasted, felt them pulling her in despite wanting and needing to take her time to get used to everything that was happening. Eva leaned forward, pressing her forehead to Chloe, resisting the younger woman's attempts to claim her mouth again and stayed a hair's-breadth away from the plump pink lips she was craving. She oh-so- gently leaned in, pressing her lips to Chloe's, Chloe finally realizing through the haze of heat she was feeling that Eva felt the need to set the pace. They kissed for a long while, tongues caressing and exploring, tenderly holding each other while Eva's comfort level increased slowly. The last time they separated, Chloe mumbled "Fuck me sideways that was hot..." and her demeanor changed slightly. She rubbed Eva's back, ran her short nails down her arms, raising goosebumps in their wake, then slid her hands slightly under Eva's fitted black T-shirt so that her fingers caressed her bare skin in the hollow of her back just above the ass that she had watched undulate across the room for months. At the feel of the satiny skin, Chloe felt a physical wave of craving wash over her so strong she actually felt dizzy. She tried to pull away from Eva, but found the feel of her skin too intoxicating to release. She wanted to inhale the scent coming off Eva like a drug -- it was sweet and unmercifully sensual with musky undertones that could only indicate her arousal. Chloe felt she could quite happily do nothing but smell this woman's skin and be content. "Eva..." Chloe said against her lips, "Eva, Eva, Eva...I'm so crazy about you..." She ran her hands down a little further, feeling the swell of Eva's buttocks in her low-rise jeans. It was taking everything she had not to rip off Eva's clothes, push her back onto the counter and make her cum like a volcano. She shook her head to get rid of the image, but found it stuck. She very reluctantly pulled back and sighed heavily and regretfully. "Evie, if I don't stop now, you're going to be naked and on top of that counter in about five seconds flat." Eva quirked an eyebrow at her in a bit of a challenge, being taller and more filled out than the woman in her arms. "Oh don't tempt me, woman! I have deceptive upper-body strength!" Chloe said half-jokingly. "Part of me really wants to tempt you, the bigger part of me is scared to death, Chlo. I think we need to talk." Eva grabbed her hand and dragged her to the sofa, sitting down next to her. Chloe suddenly looked terrified, her mask of bravado deserting her. "You're not sending me away again!" "No," Eva said simply, "I'm not doing that. I don't think I have it in me to do that again. But I do have to tell you some things." She was quiet for a while, then began hesitantly: "I know you know about David. What you wouldn't know is that he was my first. My first everything. In the eight years since he died and I lost our baby, I've slept with two other men, both of them were old friends who I had an agreement with. They were unsatisfying, purely physical encounters which happened after I felt I would go crazy from loneliness and just needing someone to touch me. There has been no-one else." Eva realized she was shaking. Chloe gave Eva one of her deep-penetrating looks and held both her hands. "I'm here now." She reached for Eva, pulling her head towards her chest. "I think you're part witch!" Eva moaned. "How do you always know exactly what to say to make me come apart at the seams?" Eva wrapped her arms around Chloe, lay her head between her breasts and closed her eyes. Within a few minutes, Eva was fast asleep, the reunion having taken too much out of her. From Chloe's vantage point, she could see Eva's glossy, dark hair fanned out over her body, but more enticingly, she had a perfect view down the 'V' of Eva's T-shirt to the soft swell of her breasts. She sighed happily and feasted on the view. Easing her way onto the sofa under Eva's body, Chloe closed her eyes and eased into a deep, satisfying sleep. *** Chloe started to come around first and found her body assaulted by sweet sensations, all of which seemed to emanate from one point on her body. She looked down at her chest and saw that Eva was still asleep, but her mouth was slightly open and every out breath danced over an incredibly erect nipple. She groaned to herself and wondered how she was supposed to take it slow and be rational when the woman she was crazy about practically had her nipple in her mouth? Eva must have felt her stirring or heard her groan, because she slowly woke up. As she opened her gorgeous eyes, she saw the prominent, hard nipple right in front of her and her eyes widened. "Holy crap, Chlo! You could put my eye out with that!" she said sleepily and smiled up at Chloe, disarmed by sleep and delicious surprise. Chloe's heart melted at the playful tone, so she bantered back: "I had nothing to do with it! You were the one panting all over it. Nipples' just doin' what nipples do!" Suddenly, the mood changed as she saw Eva swallow, look up at her with a hesitant expression on her face, then look at the nipple in front of her again. It seems she made a decision, because the tip of her tongue extended from her mouth and lightly touched Chloe's nipple through the sheer fabric of her shirt. She tongued it hesitantly, then, as if making up her mind, her hand came up, cupping Chloe's breast and bringing her nipple to her waiting mouth. Chloe's breath hissed through her teeth in surprise as Eva tongued her like she was born to. She couldn't take her eyes off the beautiful woman and what she was doing to her. Her breathing was short and rasped in her throat and she could feel her hips starting to move of their own volition. As suddenly as the onslaught began it ended as Eva let Chloe's nipple pop out of her mouth. She looked up at Chloe shyly, looking a bit shocked at herself. "Umm..." said Chloe, "looks like you enjoyed the whole nipple-sucking thing there?" she asked her with a cheeky grin. "Apparently," Eva said. "But now you've got this big old damp spot on your top. It looks a little uneven." "Well, I can think of two options here -- either you even it out, or the top comes off so as to prevent any further mess." They stared at each other for a few seconds, eyes wide. With a sudden flurry of activity, Chloe's shirt was whipped off her body and Eva found herself confronted by one of the most beautiful sights she'd ever seen. Perky and perfect, Chloe's braless breasts rose and fell with her rapid breathing, round and rose-tipped. As if hypnotized, Evas head fell forward and she placed her lips over the neglected nipple which was already achingly tight and hard. Chloe's breath sucked in again as Eva's soft, warm tongue flicked out and encircled the nipple lightly, dancing across it. "Hmmmmmmm....are you sure you've never done this before? 'Cos that feels so...fucking...good..." Eva's reply of "Uh-uh" around Chloe's nipple caused it to buzz and she squirmed and giggled. In response, Eva nipped lightly and Chloe jumped and yelped. Eva looked up at her in concern, but when she took in Chloe's flushed face, heavy-lidded eyes and half-open mouth, she smiled at her around the bud in her mouth. She sucked in as much as she could, swirling her tongue around before allowing it to pop out with an audible sound, moving over to the other nipple and repeating. As soon as she was released, Chloe bent over and pulled Eva up to her, kissing her hungrily with an open mouth, sucking her tongue in and moaning into her mouth. She eventually let her go, lying back and gasping. She stared at her until Eva started to feel uncomfortable. "I take it that was OK?" she asked. "Yes, I think you can safely assume that it was..." gasped Chloe. "If that's how talented your tongue is, I can't wait to feel..." Chloe stopped herself, suddenly realizing she may have gone too far, but Eva looked up at her and Chloe just knew she had been thinking about it. She flashed her a mile-wide grin. "Well, now, I wouldn't want to push the issue in the slightest, but if you HAPPENED to feel that it would be a good idea, I don't think I could bring myself to stop you!" "What exactly are you talking about, Chlo? I didn't say anything!" Eva gasped. "Eva, Eva...haven't you realized by now that whatever this is," she motioned up and down Eva's body, "this façade that you have for other people doesn't work on me? I know you. I get you. You're an open book to me..." She said it in a teasing tone, but was deadly serious. She could see Eva try to swallow as her throat went suddenly dry. "You have no idea how much that terrifies me." She said quietly, looking away. "I've spent my entire life hiding who I am." Chloe placed her hand on the side of Eva's face and caressed her cheek gently before taking her chin in her hand and turned her to meet her gaze. "I know." She said simply. "And that's why I'm right for you." Still holding her chin, Chloe leant in to kiss Eva again, aware that she would never grow tired of the feel of her soft lips, tasting salt and feeling the wetness on Eva's cheeks before she realized she was crying. Eva didn't make a sound, the tears just brimmed over, falling down her cheeks. "Oh, baby," Chloe said, her voice breaking, "it's OK, it's OK..." she held the woman who had come to mean so much to her and once again cradled her head to her bare breasts. Eva sighed in resignation, realizing she was where she wanted to be, then reaching out a hand she palmed Chloe's nipple, rubbing it gently and feeling the bud of her nipple becoming turgid against her hand. Chloe moaned softly, trying desperately to hold back, but feeling the deepest ache running from the nipple in Eva's hand to the juncture of her thighs and realizing that if things were going to continue at this pace, she may have to escape for a few minutes to take care of herself. Her moans seemed to act as a catalyst, because Eva suddenly raised herself slightly and there was a determined fiery look in her deep-blue eyes. Chloe was taken aback by her mercurial change of mood, but she could see by the look in Eva's eyes that she would like where this was going, so she went with it. Eva's hands moved to her breasts and massaged them gently, then still staring into Chloe's tawny eyes, Eva moved her hands over Chloe's belly, caressing her hot skin and drawing gasps from the young woman beneath her. "That feels really good..." Chloe mumbled. Eva straddled Chloe and for the briefest moment, she pressed herself into Chloe's mound, drawing a gasp from her mouth, before slipping over to her other side. Chloe opened her mouth to object when Eva slithered down next to her and covered her mouth with her own, effectively smothering any objections. The reason for the shift became clear when Eva started moving her right hand down Chloe's brown stomach to the top of her jeans. "Right-handed, huh?" Chloe smiled up at her. The only answer she got was a quick "Uh-huh..." before the hand busied itself undoing the top button then yanking at the side so that the other buttons all popped open. Still looking her in the eyes, Eva slid her hand underneath the cotton of Chloe's panties, hesitated slightly when her hand came into contact with the small patch of soft fuzz she found there, then slid over her mound, cupping her. Chloe breathed heavily, then feeling a strong desire to watch that beautiful hand with its' long, brown fingers, she finally broke eye contact with Eva and gazed down, transfixed by the sight of Eva's hand tucked into her jeans, under her panties. Everything started to take on a slightly surreal quality for Chloe. Five minutes ago she was trying to rein herself in and now the person she was trying to be so considerate towards had apparently decided that 'taking things slowly' included gliding a hand under her panties and perhaps, God-willing, to finger her into oblivion. Chloe knew there was absolutely no way she had the willpower or remotest desire to stop her now. Almost imperceptibly, Eva's hand began to move. Her index finger dipped, finding the top of Chloe's slit and making her gasp, loudly, her breath starting to rasp. So slowly Chloe thought she might be imagining it, the finger made inexorable progress down, down until... Eva's eyes widened. "Umm..."Chloe said, smiling sheepishly, "I think I may be a little wet..." Eva dropped her head to Chloe's ear and whispered "No, love, that's not wet, that's soaking..." Chloe shuddered, not knowing if it was being called 'love', the feeling of Eva's breath in her ear or her finger teasing her pussy. The finger dipped down further, finding the source of the wetness, then pulling up again, gently rubbing the fluid into the top of Chloe's slit, sliding across the shaft she found there, over and over again. "Oh...my...Gooooooddd!!" Chloe groaned. "You don't know what you're doing to me! I've wanted this, imagined this for so long I can't hold back...I can't..." Again, the voice whispered softly into Chloe's ear: "Then don't...Cum for me...I want to watch you cum...I want to feel your hot juice gushing all over my hand...Cum for me, Chloe..." Chloe's response was a garbled "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh....Evieeeeeeeeeeeee...." Chloe's eyes clamped shut as she felt the tension building up, then as the pad of Eva's finger made a last swipe over her clit shaft, she felt Eva move her finger down and she came into contact with Chloe's aching clit for the first time. Chloe felt the slow, static hang that happened just before her pussy spasmed over Eva's hand and she came convulsively, grabbing Eva's hand with her own. She lay there, trying to catch her breath, then looked over at Eva who was still staring at her own hand down the front of Chloe's jeans as if she couldn't quite believe what she had just done. Her mouth was slightly open and she was deeply flushed. Chloe felt a rush of disquiet, then panic when she saw Eva's expression. She knew that look and she could feel her brain beginning to shut down. She knew she had to act quickly. Eva was shocked. She couldn't help it. She had just masturbated a patient to orgasm. OK, so maybe they weren't seeing each other anymore, but just the acknowledgement of that taboo sobered her instantly. She could feel herself pulling back, but was so very aware of how Chloe would interpret that, so she tried her best not to make it obvious. She slowly pulled her fingers out of Chloe's wetness, hyper-aware of the fact that she could feel a deep, heavenly pulse in the soaked flesh. Part of her wanted to pull Chloe's jeans off and immerse herself in her throbbing wet warmth, while the rest of her wanted to run as fast as she could. She looked at her hand and saw the glistening juices on her fingers for the first time. She couldn't help herself -- she raised her hand to her face, forgetting Chloe completely in the sudden rush of pounding desire she was experiencing, and she inhaled Chloe's smell. Her jeans and panties had trapped the essence of her, but the smell coming from her fingers was unmistakable. She realized her hand was trembling and almost before she knew what she was doing, she took her fingers into her mouth and tasted another woman's arousal for the first time. When she heard Chloe gasp, she looked up and saw the naked lust on Chloe's face at witnessing the intensely intimate gesture and she froze. Now she felt like back-pedaling in earnest, feeling so naked she couldn't meet Chloe's eyes. The expression on Chloe's face changed to one of understanding, and Eva felt her hands being grasped. "Look at me." "Chlo..." "I said look at me, Eva!" Eva raised her eyes and found herself captured by Chloe's loving gaze. "That was really brave and you really didn't have to do it, but I am so very glad you did. Now you know you can. I think, though, that you maybe pushed yourself too hard and that just maybe, you need to forget about seducing me and let the experienced gay in the village take control, huh?" Eva flushed again, but held Chloe's gaze. "Hmmm...it's the control thing, isn't it?" She stared at Eva thoughtfully, then it morphed into an expression Eva didn't recognize, but made her entire body tingle. Chloe just looked at her with a slight frown crinkling her forehead and chewing slightly on her lip for the longest time. "What, Chlo? You're making me really uncomfortable here..." "Are you good at everything you do?" Chloe asked. "Probably not, but I'm usually good at anything I really put my mind to. Why?" "You're a serious over-achiever, aren't you?" Psych Ch. 02 "I suppose it depends on who's doing the classifying. What's got into you?" Chloe sucked in her lower lip and she looked so cute Eva just wanted to kiss her and never stop. She reached for her again, but Chloe stopped her. Now she was starting to get a little freaked out. "What?" she demanded. "I was just thinking that in the time I've known you, the only time you've ever been out of control is when I've pushed you there..." "Chloe, for as long as I'VE known me, the only time I've been out of control is when you've pushed me. I even grieved for David and our child in a very controlled way." Chloe entwined her legs in Eva's, twisted and flipped them over so that she was lying on top of the taller woman. "You know what I want, Eva?" she said speaking softly while staring into her startled eyes, "I want you to lose control with me. I WANT you to come unglued. I don't care what it looks like; I don't care what you say when it happens; I want you to let go completely and just give in. This is part of you -- you don't have to deny this any longer. Be you with me." Eva's eyes filled with tears. "I don't know how..." "I'll help you, Evie. I'll be here with you." She leaned down and kissed Eva tenderly. "Come with me!" She stood up suddenly, pulling Eva with her. "Bedroom?" Eva followed her, stunned by the change of pace. "Top of the stairs on the right," she said hesitantly. Chloe almost ran up the stairs, pulling Eva with her. "Lie on the bed," she said in a tone that brooked no argument. "Chloe..." "Eva...for once in your life, just do as I ask without thinking!" Chloe pulled her into a sensuous hug, kissing her deeply, tongue thrusting into her mouth. She started walking Eva back towards the bed, still kissing her thoroughly. When Eva felt the bed at the back of her knees, her legs automatically gave way and she found herself lying on the bed with Chloe's heated body on top of hers. Chloe broke the kiss, straddling Eva to give her room. "Now...scoot back, woman!" Eva hastily did as she was told, laying her head on the pillows. "Perfect!" said Chloe, grinning. She paused for a second and looked at Eva, drinking her in. "You know you are utterly gorgeous to me, right?" Eva just stared at her, wide-eyed. Then Chloe jumped off the bed and started rummaging around in Eves' cupboards. "Ummm...Chlo? What are you looking for?" Chloe returned with some belts and scarves. She pulled off her jeans and jumped onto the bed gleefully, straddling Eva's body. "Oh shit..." said Eva. Chloe smiled. "Do you trust me, baby?" "It's not about trust! I don't like being tied up! It's...it's..." "Scary? Frightening? Not with me, it isn't. Do... You... Trust... Me... Eva?" She said, drawing it out and punctuating every word with a long lingering kiss, starting at Eva's temple and working her way down to the hollow of her throat, paying special attention to her ear-lobes when Eva twisted under her at the touch of her tongue. "Yesssssss..." came the sibilant reply. "Good. This isn't about control. I don't want to control you. I have no desire to make you my slave or humiliate you. I want to help you remember how to feel. I want you to get out of here" she kissed Eva on her forehead, "and get back into here..." She said, kissing her between her breasts, signifying the head to heart shift she wanted her to understand. Eva gave an almost imperceptible nod, biting her lip. Chloe grinned at her, elated. "God, you're sexy!" she said. "Take off your t-shirt...yes...good. Now -- your bra... Oh, God, your tits are just...wow..." Chloe mumbled inarticulately staring at Eva's full, rounded breasts with the dark nipples puckered and pebble-hard. They were everything she had ever imagined them to be. She inadvertently raised a hand to touch, but slowly dropped it again. She couldn't wait to lavish attention on them, but forced her eyes away from Eva's breasts and tried to breathe normally again. "Just try and relax and enjoy this. Focus on all the sensations..." She tied a scarf around Eva's eyes, making sure she couldn't see out the bottom. Eva breathed deeply, surprised by the primal reaction she had to having her sight taken away. Then she felt one hand softly but firmly tied to the bedpost; then the other. "I'm not going to tie your legs, OK?" "OK," Eva breathed, trembling, testing the bonds slightly by tugging them. Chloe noticed the tug and smiled to herself. "Control freak..." she murmured softly, laughing to herself. "What?" Eva asked, although she had heard her just fine. "Nothing, beautiful..." Chloe lay down on Eva's body and felt their naked breasts touch for the first time. She nearly lost it right then, but once again pulled herself back and gently rubbed her nipples over Eva's breasts before settling into her body and wrapping her arms around Eva. She leant towards Eva's ear and spoke quietly, but with intensity and intent. "I am going to make you go out of your mind with pleasure, do you understand that, Eva?" Eva said nothing, but her body responded in such a way that Chloe was left in no doubt as to how Eva felt about that: turned on and terrified at the same time. Chloe continued: "But I will never, ever do anything to hurt you, Eva. Do you understand that as well?" Again, there was no verbal answer forthcoming, but the bleeding of extreme tension out of Eva's body made Chloe convinced she had hit her mark. She carried on: "That's right, love, let your body come down. Let it relax. Let it enjoy every second of what I am going to do to you." Eva felt like her body weighed a ton. Even if she could move her arms, she didn't think she would be able to hold them up. This lithe, extraordinary creature was weaving such a spell over her that she knew there was nothing she would or could deny her. She realized with surprise that this was a thought which would ordinarily cause her to shut down completely, but once again, Chloe had identified a need in her she hadn't known existed. "Witch..." she muttered. In response, all she heard was a sexy chuckle breathed into the shell of her ear and she shuddered. Eva felt Chloe slowly move down her body and her breathing stopped when her hands reached the button of her jeans, popping it open before drawing down the zip. In one deft movement, Chloe whipped Eva's jeans down over hips and yanked them unceremoniously off her legs. She squeaked involuntarily. "Sorry," said Chloe, sounding a little embarrassed. "I've dreamed about doing that SO many times..." Eva felt her lips quirk up into a little smile. Despite her trepidation, she thrilled at the knowledge that she was affecting this beautiful, young woman the way she clearly was. She was also aware that they were both only wearing panties now. She knew what her black, lace, very brief, form-fitting panties looked like on her olive skin, but she so wished she had been paying more attention when Chloe had pulled off her own jeans and briefly displayed what looked to be tight, white, cotton boy-leg panties which sat on her sexy hips like a second skin. Clearly, Chloe had no intention of taking them off just yet. What started then was a searing, mind-numbing eternity for Eva, forced for the first time to rely completely on her senses. She always over-analysed and over-thought everything in her life. Here, not only was control completely wrested away from her, but because she could not see what was happening, she could not predict her responses, or indeed Chloe's. Her rationality and logical self had been blindfolded along with her physical self and she was lost. She could not tell where Chloe would touch, if it would be fingers, tongue or body part. She had no conception of how she would respond and her body transformed itself into a livewire before Chloe had even touched her for the first time. Chloe sat back on her haunches and again just drank in the sight of the exquisite woman lying in front of her. She took in every detail of her brown skin; every smooth plane. She noticed that Eva's breathing was shallow and fast; that a faint sheen had begun to develop on her skin and she knew that Eva was starting to really feel the moment. She took pity on the quaking body in front of her and with infinite tenderness she lay next to her and drew the pads of her fingers along Eva's jawline, following it up with the tip of her tongue, immediately retracing and suckling gently with her lips where her tongue had been. Then she pulled back to see the effect. Eva had gasped as Chloe's fingers had touched her and moaned deeply when her tongue and lips had moved in. Chloe, delighted, knew that her gamble had paid off and that this was going to be incredible. She wanted to unwrap this woman from her self-imposed exile. She wanted to help her dismantle her walls and defenses one by one. Mostly, she had a primitive drive to make her lose complete control and make her cum and cum and cum. Eva could not believe how a few simple touches had her burning for more. Her body felt super-heated, her breath staccato and she knew that somewhere along the line, her lower body had started to writhe. Then she felt those fingers again. They started on her face, tracing outlines, like Chloe wanted to memorise everything about her. Then they moved to her neck, sweeping back the strands of hair which had fallen down, tracing her ears (which made her shudder), then moving down the sweep of her neck. Part of her tried to keep control, to imagine what she must look like and to track the progress of those fingers down her body, but a much bigger part of her had long since thrown in the towel and was wrapped up in feeling, feeling, feeling the heavenly sensations her lover was coaxing from her now increasingly willing body. The fingers continued their descent, skimming feather-light down her neck to her chest where she detected a slight hesitation before they circled the orbs of her breasts, slowly, sensuously spiraling ever inwards. Before they reached her very swollen nipples, the fingers moved down her belly, despite the whimper of disbelief this tore from her throat. She heard another husky chuckle in response. Those teasing fingers moved to the top of her panties and traced the outline, once again spiraling inwards to her soft mound. Her hips rose involuntarily, but a hand held them down while the fingers continued their torturous journey just scraping past her very hot, liquid centre and down her inner things and legs, even tracing her toes and the soles of her feet which had her giggling and begging for mercy. While she was still trying to get over the ticklish sensations from her feet, Eva felt hot passionate lips close over her own and she eagerly raised her head and kissed back, deeply. The feel of that sweet tongue wrapping around her own seemed like the only thing she ever wanted to care about again. She couldn't have stopped the groan that flew from her throat if she tried and it felt like she delivered it into Chloe's soul. Chloe knew she could not stop then, but the sight of Eva and her response together with that groan into her mouth very nearly destroyed her. She felt hot tears welling up in her, but immediately choked them down. She could feel moved later. Now was about Eva. She carried on pouring every tiny ounce of her feelings into her fingers and her lips. Eva felt the slight hitch, but took it for lust and carried on kissing Chloe back, immersing herself in the feel and smell of the woman she now knew without a doubt that she loved as well as desired more than anyone. The lips moved away from hers and once again a whimper was squeezed from her throat, but that quickly changed as Chloe's hot mouth and tongue lapped and kissed their way down her throat and circled her breasts. "Chlo..." "Hmmm?" "Please, Chlo..." Eva couldn't bring herself to beg. As usual, Chloe understood. "You don't have to beg, love, just tell me what you want..." she said in-between sucking nibbles on the underside of Eva's gorgeous breasts. "Please...suck me...my...uuhhh...nipples... Please Chlo..." "With pleasure, baby..." Chloe muttered against her skin, feeling like she could cum just hearing those words. Her tongue furled around one nipple and fluttered against it and the effect was instantaneous. Eva's back arched, pushing her nipple completely into Chloe's happy, obliging mouth. "Yeeeeessssss...." Eva breathed, brokenly, feeling the ache of her tight nipples ease as Chloe's incredibly talented tongue laved them, first one, then skipping over to the other. She gently moulded each neglected breast into the palm of her hand while she went to work on the other. The sensation was so incredible that Eva was finding it difficult to remember a time her nipples weren't encased in Chloe's suckling mouth. Chloe's lips left her nipples, making her mewl in disappointment, but then she realized where those lips were heading. She immediately felt her body stiffen up, but Chloe just chuckled against her skin, rubbing and kissing the taut skin of her belly until she started to relax again. Then her lips started to move over the lace of Eva's panties and her breath became increasingly ragged. Ever so slowly, patterns were traced over lace with the point of a tongue until Eva was panting with need, her hips moving up and down, futilely as it turned out, because Chloe simply flattened her every time. "Not yet, baby, not yet..." Eva felt her panties being hooked and drawn down her hips; felt them stick to her centre before pulling free and she blushed, knowing that her intense arousal was now fully on display for Chloe to see. She truly could no longer hide any part of her from her intense young lover. Chloe was rocked back by the sight in front of her. She knew Eva would be pretty, hell, the woman was gorgeous all over, but the sight of her completely naked for the first time, legs slightly parted so Chloe could see her engorged lips and obvious arousal was too much for her to take. She wanted to dive in, slide her fingers into this woman, suck her lips and clit until she came, screaming Chloe's name. She was hovering over Eva's mound, her breath hot on her inflamed peeking clitoris when she pulled herself together and with supreme will, she pulled her face back. She could feel the uncertainty and embarrassment radiating out of Eva's every pore, so she whispered soothingly but slightly disjointedly that Eva had the most beautiful pussy she had ever seen and that she had very nearly been driven to devour it. "I just want to look at you a little bit, Eva." Chloe said quietly, her head still between Eva's legs. She lay her cheek on Eva's inner thigh, then went on to describe in intimate, incredible detail the sight before her: how aroused her lips were; how deep red and beautiful; how her arousal dripped from her centre and finally how her clit peeked out from under its' hood. By the time she was finished, she had calmed down and Eva was in a torment from the description of parts of herself she had never seen in such detail, but more from the feel of Chloe's breath on the very centre of her being. She had never wanted anything more in her life than the feel of Chloe's mouth on her. She could still feel Chloe breathing on her. She had never liked the word 'pussy,' but the way Chloe said it, it was an intimate caress and she wanted her to say it over and over again. Slowly, the sensation became more intense and she realized Chloe was coming closer. She felt her legs being pushed apart and agonizingly slowly, she felt Chloe's tongue come into contact with her pussy for the very first time. She felt the tongue probe between her swollen lips and swirl expertly around in a sensation she was sure would cause her to completely lose her mind. All sense of time and place ceased to exist as her existence became the tongue-tip rippling in her intimate flesh as it began to move up and down, side to side seemingly at the same time. Eva felt deeply unfamiliar sensations building in her. She suddenly felt the need to stop; to explain to Chloe that she hadn't had an orgasm since Dave was killed; that she couldn't even bring herself to orgasm and had long since stopped trying. Too many long afternoons ending in tears and frustration had put paid to that. She tried to grab Chloe's head to stop her, before remembering her hands were bound. She could feel her body shaking and tears soaked the blindfold before she even realized she was sobbing. As quickly as the sensations built, so they ebbed as Chloe moved up her body, cradled her in her arms, kissing her covered eyes and mouth. "Chloe...I..." "No," Chloe said, "don't tell me now. Later, we'll talk about everything. Now, I just want you to allow yourself to feel everything you've been denied for so long. Just let it happen, Eva, it won't hurt you. It will set you free." With that, she languorously worked her way down Eva's body again and soon her incredible tongue was again tenderly snaking into her furrow and doing that amazing swirling, twirling thing she had been doing. Eva could not believe how quickly the sensations built again. She felt her hips moving against Chloe's mouth, pushing her mound into her face. She felt Chloe's hands move around to cup her buttocks and she clearly liked what she found, because Eva could feel the groan deep in her pussy. Once again, existence narrowed, tunneled and funneled into that tongue which was now being used in flat sweeps which were making Eva nearly delirious with sensory overload, with the point still being used to gently probe at the top of her slit in small darting, tender stabs at her clit. She realized that some part of her was still holding back, but she didn't know how to break down the last barrier until Chloe raised her head and demanded huskily: "Tell me what you want, Eva. "I...I..." "Tell me!" She demanded again, dipping her tongue over and over to flutter over Eva's tiny shaft. Eva felt something come seriously unglued. Her idea of self shattered and was scattered further than she believed possible. There was no retrieving that fake life anymore. There was a woman -- the woman she loved -- lying between her legs with her tongue deep in her pussy and Eva never wanted that to change. She could feel the tears come again, but this time they were tears of pure joy and she knew she was shouting but she couldn't stop herself. "MAKE ME CUM! I WANT TO CUM ON YOUR TONGUE..." Before the wish was barely even airborne, Chloe clamped her mouth down over Eva's shuddering clit and she sucked for all she was worth, gently inserting her finger into the slick passage of Eva's pussy, crooking her finger to caress the nub of nerves deep inside to the same rhythm as her sucking. Eva felt time actually halt as her body seemed to realize what had just happened and suddenly caught up and then the intensity, the onslaught of physical sensation that assailed her broke every last barrier that existed in her mind and body as her hips bucked into the face of the woman she loved. She felt her pussy liquefy as she screamed incoherently and she felt very, very wet before she felt nothing at all. **** When she came to, her blindfold was gone, her hands were unbound and Chloe was staring at her in wonder and amazement. She was beaming at her. Eva tried to pull her hands over her face, suddenly incredibly shy. Chloe clucked her tongue at her, pulling her hands away before kissing every finger and finally the palms, giving Eva a chance to compose herself. "No need to hide anymore, love. I think we're past that, don't you?" Eva sighed happily, smiling at her shyly. "I guess so..." Chloe looked at her, then blushed and looked away. "Umm...Eva...you kind of passed out!" "Yes, I guess I did..." Chloe was obviously desperate to ask her something or say something and she was suddenly reminded that she was quite a bit older than this amazing young woman lying with her arms around her, tracing her face again with her fingers, unable to hold back the look of pure adoration beaming from her face. "What is it, Chlo?" Psych Ch. 02 "I don't know if you realized, but before you passed out and round about the time you had what really looked to be a rather mind-blowing orgasm..." Chloe paused for effect, laughing at Eva who rolled her eyes at Chloe's self-congratulatory theatrics, "you kind of squirted a bit there!" she said gleefully. "I did what??" Eva said, shocked. "It was amazing, Evie!! That's never happened to me before! It was so amazing to see, to experience. I'm so glad I could do that for you!" she said, earnestly, yet somehow still smiling into Eva's eyes. Eva felt it was probably the right time to tell Chloe everything that she had actually done for her. By the time she was done, both of them were sobbing. They lay in each other's arms, gently caressing and kissing each other. Eva pulled away a bit and looked at Chloe. "It hasn't escaped my attention that you seem to have a barrier of your own left there..." she said pointedly, eyeing the second skin of Chloe's panties, still sitting snugly on her hips. "Weeell," drawled Chloe, "I think we need to discuss what we're going to do about that, but not before we discuss your religious conversion!" "My what?" "Yes, love. From what I heard a few minutes ago there wasn't a deity in the universe you didn't address when you came. Like a fucking rocket, I might add!" she said cheekily. Eva laughed a truly unfettered, unselfconscious laugh and Chloe thought she had never heard anything so beautiful. Once again she thought to herself that she would be happy spending the rest of her life making this woman laugh that very same laugh. *** Psych Class Doctor Mathews had been planning this class – on the last day of semester – since the start of semester, Preparing and moulding the material, selecting what he required and shaping it just so, that this particular class would go off without a hitch. To begin with, he had needed to watch his psychology class quite carefully, looking for subjects with the right qualities. Athletic builds, Long hair, beautiful faces, generous breasts, legs to dream of. Six in all were selected, the most beautiful of his students, six innocent young maidens to be crafted into something... better. Next, to separate them from the herd: The first few assignments, making sure all six got poor marks, but crafting the comments just so, so that they were always driven to try harder: Then, of course, when they came to talk to him about what they could do to get a better grade, appear to think about it, then offer them a place in his special tutor group. Classes for that group were scheduled for 6 PM every Friday, and the first few lectures – with slides, and CD's to take home and listen to, to aid in their learning – were crafted, primarily, to make sure that they thought of the classes as a treat, something they got for being special, that they didn't want to share, didn't want to talk about – and didn't want to miss. Most importantly of all, to accept whatever he said – no matter how ridiculous – as true, since he was the professor, they were students, and they clearly knew little because of how they were failing. Mathews had, you see, spent the last several years working on subliminal programming. And such were worked into the materials that these succulent young ladies were absorbing so hungrily. The next batch of programming was a little more complicated: Designed to make them obey him, when class was in session, to the point where they would readily accept anything he said as truth: This took the longest, needing to be worked into a three-week long assignment, that they would need to go over in groups, every night. Once that set of programming was in, He began the custom of getting volunteers to come forward to help him demonstrate things: and with that, programming to put whoever volunteered or was chosen into a mild hypnotic trance, doing what she was told if it was within the framework of the lesson, and more importantly, programming the others to feel at a subconscious level whatever the volunteer felt. By this point, he had models of how each of them thought, and they were given personal assignments, each unique – designed to remove sexual inhibitions when in his class, encourage sexual behaviour, and preparing them for specific roles in the final lesson. All the groundwork done, the final course was on ‘human sexuality'. More specifically, the various stereotypes, and what truths underlay them, and some made up BS about signs to indicate which one you were. Specifically, and subtly – and strongly emphasized within the programming they received at this stage – the concept of ‘Slut' was tied to every characteristic the subjects thought of themselves to possess. For the last few classes, he'd been suggesting they ‘dress up‘ for class as whatever stereotype was being discussed, and for this last lesson, He'd saved the topic they'd being dancing around: What, exactly, a Slut was. And, as his students filed in one by one, the fruits and rewards of the program became apparent. After all, they'd all dressed for the occasion, and as they removed jackets, the delights were unveiled for all to see. Ashley was first in, of course. She always was. 5'6", with long, platinum blonde hair reaching to the small of her back: Left loose, today. Blue eyes, luxuriant lips, touched up with makeup to make her look like she was built to swallow something: Her C-cups pulled high and pushed together by a Shirt, tied underneath, exposing a generous amount of flesh, and tied tightly enough that the outline of her nipples plainly showed the lack of a bra: toned, flat stomach, a skirt so short it almost qualified as a belt, then nothing to cover those long, shapely legs until the high heels at the bottom. Next, Vanessa and Brittany. Those two stuck together like twins, and there was a passing similarity: Of similar build, with beautiful butts, long, slender limbs and the kind of form you would expect of girls who had been dancing since an early age: nice and limber. The main differential was the hair: Vanessa, a Vibrant electric red, curling down around her bare shoulders: Brittany, A trail of honey-blonde curls stopping at her ears. Again, both wore make-up to emphasise their features, and – as he'd expected – they'd dressed similarly: A bikini that barely covered the essentials, of a slightly translucent material, giving shadow of what lay beneath, and transparent, coloured skirts that barely covered their butts over that: Again, legs bare, and high heels to emphasise those gorgeous, sexy legs. Erin was next, by a mere few seconds, and most decidedly the sexiest of the bunch. It wasn't just how she looked, per se: It was a combination of that – her dirty blonde hair, hanging loose to her shoulders: Her wide-eyed, innocent blue gaze, her full lips, pert breasts, and luxuriant legs: that, and how she moved, an unconscious sexuality that had only strengthened as his programming had taken root. Combined with what she wore now, it was like she screamed ‘FUCK ME!' with every step. Again, heels – he liked what it did to how they walked, and thus he'd made sure it factored into their model of a ‘slutty look' – and knee-high socks, tight and pale and sculpted to her legs. Moving up, He'd swear she'd oiled her legs, and her gorgeous little butt was covered by a scandalously short skirt, a mocking imitation of schoolgirls, that flashed her lace underwear with every sway of her hips. That perfectly flat belly, again, glistening softly with oil, and a schoolgirls shirt – again, tied up and round her generous breasts, but in such a way that they looked almost ready to spill out. Once again, the rich coppery skin glistened with oil. Her makeup, what there was of it, seemed designed to create the image of the slutty little schoolgirl, and as she sashayed past him, he had to hold to the table to stop himself grabbing her right then and there. Last – but most decidedly not least – Shasha and Clare came in together, chattering like magpies. Sasha's chocolate complexion was dressed today in just enough makeup to make you want to taste it: her luxuriantly large breasts barely kept in check by a thin ribbon of fluorescent material, just large enough to cover her nipples, that encircles her chest, pulling in those lovely mounds just to emphasise how fuckable they were. A Thong of the same colour barely contained her curvaceous butt, flashing into view with every motion of the pleated belt – sorry, skirt – she wore, that would just about hide them should she stand still, and fishnet tights enclosed those elegant, gorgeous legs. Again, the heels. Clare, of course, was her almost polar opposite. A creamy, pale complexion, as opposed to Sasha's rich chocolate: Her hair, just as long – reaching to mid back – but Platinum blonde, almost white, as opposed to Sasha's Black with blue highlights – to match her eyeshade, apparently. They were similar in other ways, however. The same gorgeous butts, elegant legs, and flat bellies: but Clare's breasts were, if anything, larger. She, too, seemed to have donned a thin coat of oil over her body – he presumed that was what made the thin white dress cling to her body, semi-transparent, tight as a second skin: Reaching to midthigh, it quietly broadcast that all else she wore were a pair of high heels and her makeup: The pair of them sauntered in with a distinctive sway to their hips, the kind that just make's men's eyes go left, then right, then left... as they gaze – as he did now – at those gorgeous butts walking by. He took a moment just to bathe in the sight. But just a moment, lest he lose all self-control. Six of the most gorgeous of his students, dressed in clothing that did everything but beg you to hold them down and fuck them till they pass out. A moment, to shut the door, and lock it – as he always did, to ‘prevent any interruptions of our special tutorial.' "Good evening, class." He began, clicking up the first slide. "To begin our final lecture on Human Sexuality: The Slut: I'm going to start with one simple truth. There is a Slut in each and every woman on this planet. If you don't believe me, look around!" he grinned, eliciting a bemused laugh from the girls as they took in what they were all wearing. "Now, it is commonly assumed that a Slut is just a girl who sleeps around. This is fundamentally untrue. A Girl becomes a Slut in one of two ways: when she has sexual intercourse with the right person: her ‘Master', or if she is present when a girl of a similar mental type – more on that in a moment – becomes a Bonded Slut, and is involved in the bonding, even just as a spectator. What is a bonded Slut? Well. Suppose the ‘Master' has Sexual Intercourse with the Slut-in-Potential, the proto-slut, and does not ejaculate within her. This awakens her as, to put it bluntly, someone whose primary drive in life is having sex as often as possible: in tribal societies, this ensured that there was sufficient procreatation to supplement losses to disease and warfare. With the prevalent use of condoms in the modern era, this is thus the type of personality associated with the word, as very few have their first sexual encounter with their matching Master-type in a situation where internal ejaculation takes place. However, if the ‘Master' /does/ ejaculate within the proto-slut with the first event of sexual intercourse between the pair, you get a ‘Bonded Slut' instead. She differs primarily from the Unbound Slut in that her primary concern becomes sex with her master, and – more importantly – her Master's sexual pleasure becomes, in essence, a form of abstracted erogenous zone – It will act to drive her to higher levels of sexual excitation and satisfaction, higher levels of pleasure, and just being in the presence of her Master when he is displaying sexual behaviour will make her highly aroused." A pause, while he watched them take this in: more importantly, as he'd been speaking, the automated change of slides, with the subliminal coding within it. "So, then, what do we mean by the ‘right person'? Well, the pattern in the research shows that for women of the same personality gradient (A basic piece of bullshit he'd introduced at the start of this special course: Just by coincidence, all the girls had the same gradient. There was a nice long piece of bullshit about why this explained why they needed the remedial tuition, but the concept that they were of a similar pattern was so deeply embedded now, they didn't even think about it. Which had been the point.), the same man can be considered a potential Master: But the only way to test if someone is a suitable Master is to engage in some form of sexual interaction with that man – Even simply dancing in such a way as to accentuate your body, or participating in some form with someone showing off their body and accentuating their sexual features to him, again, even if only as a spectator. If the man /is/ a potential master for your personality-gradient, then you will find yourself becoming highly aroused, very quickly: To the extent that satisfying that arousal will quickly become the foremost thought in your mind. Secondly, should you actually copulate with a potential master, you will orgasm the moment his penis enters your body, and continue to do so more frequently, and more powerfully, than you have before. Of course, should that happen, you have two choices: To become an Unbound slut, spreading your legs for any man who asks, or to get him to ejaculate within you, triggering the bonding process: Should this eventuality occur, then at the moment of your Master's ejaculation, a series of orgasms ten times more powerful than anything you have ever felt before will pass through your body, and your sexual patterns will change in the process: Your sexual interests switch to, ‘Whatever Master's sexual interests are', and over fifty percent report that they find obeying their new master highly pleasing – and arousing. However, note there is another way of becoming a slut. Should a woman be present when a woman of the same personality gradient undergoes sexual intercourse with a potential master – not the most common of events – she will, as noted, become highly aroused, and may well start masturbating right then and there. Indeed, she will almost certainly orgasm whenever the matching ‘slut' does. However, if the Woman undergoing sexual intercourse becomes an unbound slut, so will she: And if the woman she is watching becomes a bound slut, then she will /still/ become an unbound slut unless semen of the potential Master enters her body – well. There is a chance that it merely touching her skin would suffice, but that's proportional to the amount of semen coating the skin: You'd probably need to rub it all over your chest for the same effect. She has maybe an hour after the Bonding Orgasm of the now bound slut for this to occur, otherwise, over the next few days, she becomes an unbound slut. Of course, should this unlikely bonding event occur, then she will experience the same intense orgasm as the one who engaged in sexual intercourse, /just from the psychological interaction with the semen/, and the same changes in thought processes: More intriguingly, if a group of Bound Sluts who were Bound at the same event are present when one or more of their number is having sex with their master, they /all/ will share in sexual sensations each feels. But, obviously, this is not exactly something you need to worry about: Statistically, it seems that less than one percent of men fit the appropriate ‘master' type for each personality gradient." A soft chuckle. "Erin. Could you come to the front please, I'd like your help with a demonstration to illustrate this point." He mentally scolded himself to control his breathing as the gorgeous girl rose from her seat and swayed alluringly towards his desk, a brief flash of her panties with each step. "Now, Erin. As noted, the easiest way of detecting if someone is a potential master for your personality gradient is to engage in some form of behaviour that has sexual connotations before him. So." He grinned, and hit a key: Dance music began playing, something with a lively beat. "To demonstrate the unlikelihood of it occurring with a random stranger, I want you to dance in front of me, focusing on what you're wearing and how it exposes your body in your mind. Everyone else? Pay very close attention to everything she does." From early in the programming, he had intended Erin to be the first, and as she began to dance, her specific role in the session began to kick in: specifically, as she began to sway and dance provocatively, she seemed to drift away, her hands moving more suggestively over her skin, her breasts, her legs, her breathing deepening, her skin flushing with arousal: Within mere minutes, she was clearly groping herself, Pulling up her skirt and showing off sheer lace panties, and it was when she started to rub her own pussy – and the rest of the girls watching were noticeably aroused, staring in fascination and unable to look away, as their programming commanded- that he grinned, reaching out to touch Erin's shoulder. "Erin?" With a gasp at his touch, she looked at him, her blue eyes filled with lust: Reaching out to place his other hand on her other shoulder, he repeated, "Erin? Do you want something?" "You!" she moaned out, throwing herself at him with a moan, her tongue diving between his lips as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close, running a hand up her legs and under her skirt to cup that delicious ass. She continued to moan as he pulled her on top of him, passionately kissing him as she pulled at his belt, gasping with pleasure as he cupped her breast with his left hand, squeezing the nipple: He had to discipline himself to let her take the lead here. Moaning more, she pulled him onto the desk, rolling so he was on top of her even as she pulled his trousers and pants down, grabbing for his dick. "Fuck me. I'm so fucking wet. Fuck me." she growled, at the feel of his hard, erect dick, her right leg encircling his waist to pull him in closer. "Please, god, Fuck me." What kind of man can refuse an offer like that? Pulling her panties down hard enough that they tore, He pressed his weight forward: Eagerly, she guided him towards her pussy, whimpering at the first touch against her labia, then /screaming/ with bliss as he pushed himself within her hot, wet cunt, and the first of her programmed orgasms hit her like a tidal wave. Right now, everything he'd done for this project was worth it. This gorgeously sexy babe, screaming with bliss as she undulated underneath him, her legs wrapped around his waist to keep him within her, her gorgeous ass in one hand, a gorgeous breast in the other: And as she began to subside, he reached both hands up to give both breasts squeeze. By the gods, she felt good. "Shit. I Didn't mean for this to happen!" he lied, risking a glance at the rest of the class – all of whom were aroused, Clare and Sasha looking like they'd already started masturbating, and all had that dazed look that told them that they had all had the first of the sympathetic orgasms he'd built into them. "Fuck. Erin. Erin." She looked at him blankly, for a moment, "What..." Her tone mostly that of objection that he'd stopped, filled with lustful need. "Fuck. If I pull out now, the whole class will become an unbound slut. If I Don't come in you, then you'll put all your friends at the mercy of every man on campus. But if I do, you'll be my Bound Slut. Decide, Erin. What do you want?" "I want you to come in my pussy." She growled, just like he'd meant her to. "Make me a slut. Make me your filthy little whore. Fuck me. Don't stop fucking me, sir." Jerking of the hips accompanied these words, producing a moaning undercurrent, even as her limbs tightened around his body. Grinning, He reached down, yanking his shirt over his head. "Fine then." Growling victoriously, he pulled open her shirt, to expose those glorious breasts, and bent down to taste them even as he began pounding her against the desk. This just made her moan some more, another orgasm quickly building: Lifting her up, he sat back in a chair so she was astride him, and she began frantically fucking him for all she was worth, letting him enjoy the sights and sensations of that magnificent chest against his own. Another orgasm, and another, wracked her body as he explored all her secret, delightful places, caressing and kissing and stroking her body, until he couldn't take any more: the background noise of moans and groans showed that the programming in the other girls had kicked in with a vengeance, screams echoing forth as they came in sympathy, And with a moan of his own, he shot a load of semen deep within her body. The effect was immediate. A high, ululating scream of bliss that echoed throughout the room – a highlight to the soft moaning and softer screams of bliss of the other members of the class – And her body arched tight as could be, spasming again and again, jerking motions passing in waves throughout her body as she emitted soft, high-pitched squeals, fully consumed by the bliss she was feeling as he shot a second then a third load of semen into her body, her pussy clamping him within her like a vise. Pulling out – with some difficulty – he turned his gaze upon the rest of the class. What a vision it was. Clare's hand was between her legs, rubbing away, her dress tight around her breasts from where she'd been squeezing her nipples, her face awash with lust as she gazed at his dripping dick: Similarly captivated, Ashley had pulled open her shirt, both of those beautiful breasts on display as she squeezed them invitingly, licking her lips. Vanessa and Brittany – slightly surprisingly – were groping /each other/, though their gazes were on him: this showed great promise, and he grinned as Brittany -her pussy massaged by her friend – came again, her gaze never leaving his body. Sasha, lastly, had both her legs stretched out, groping them with one hand as she rubber her clit, the thin thong already soaking wet, and a distinct puddle having formed on the chair. Psych Class "Clare! There's still some come on my Dick! If you don't want to be the school's whore, You'll need to come suck it off! Maybe you can, too, Sasha! The rest of you will need to reach deep inside Erin's Cunt, lick and pull what I shot in there out and swallow it down, or you'll be banging every guy who looks at you funny! Quickly, before it's too late!" It was really /hard/ to put the necessary level of worry in his voice, but he needn't have bothered: Before he'd finished speaking, the girls had started moving. Clare was the first to reach him, pushing that platinum hair away from her face as she knelt down in front of him, her lips full and lush. Opening her mouth, a look of puzzlement on her face, she started to ask a question – but not before he pushed his dick against those lips, and just like her programming told her to, she reflexively licked then swallowed. The subsequent orgasm pulled a rippling cry from her lips as she slumped against the floor, body shaking and twitching, hands kneading helplessly against those magnificently fuckable tits. Shasha looked uncertain, until he reached out to give her tits a squeeze: This elicited a moan, just as the first shriek of ecstasy sounded from behind him: Vanessa, it seemed, had been first to taste Erin's cunt, and Brittany was beside her, running her hands over Erin, pushing forward for her turn. Ashley, though... Looking around, as he pushed Sasha to her knees, he smiled at the sight of Ashley: She was by the door, apparently wanting to leave, but unable to tear her eyes away from what was going on, paralysed with indecision. . Back to Sasha. Pushing his dick towards her lips, he was pleased to see her greedily dive towards it, wrapping her lips around it and sucking tightly as she pulled off… only to fall to the ground with another shuddering scream, as /her/ conversion orgasm wracked her body. By now, Clare was coming too, and he grinned, pulling her dress over her head. "You've got such fucking nice tits. You want Master to fuck them, slut? Get him nice and hard again?" "God yes, master..." moaned the blonde, mashing those lovely mounds together. "Fuck my tits. Fuck your horny little slut." Kneeling over her, he did exactly that, groping and fondling her body, grinning at Brittany's scream of bliss: Glancing over, he saw that both Erin and Vanessa were now conscious, eyes upon him. "Over here. Help me fuck these sluts." A gaze was spared for Ashley, on her knees by the door: One hand was even on the door handle, but she was just lying there, unable to stop watching, to stop touching herself, clearly trying to deny the orgasms that wracked her whenever one of the other girls came. But by then... oh god. Bending down over Clare's body, she squeezed her tits together as he began fucking them with his limp dick: Erin was first to reach them, and Jumped onto Sasha, groping, fondling, and sucking her body. "God, master... Oh god, I want to see this whore fuck you..." she groaned, even as Vanessa – literally ripping her clothes off on the way – dived between Clare's legs to suck on her pussy. This elicited a scream of ecstasy from Clare, who was moaning and groaning at all the sensations. "Be hard for me, Master. God, I've never... Oh, god, oh.." another orgasm wreaked havoc over the girls as she came, a glorious surprise for Sasha as she woke, Pulling Erin's head deeper into her crotch. It went on like that for several minutes: but as he started to get hard again, Sasha moved over so he could lick his cock as it emerged from Claire's breasts, and Erin spread herself between licking her pussy and fondling Vanessa. Brittany, when she came too, seemed to decide that since Master was busy, she should focus her efforts on making Erin come some more: AS a result of all this effort, several more orgasms rippled through the group, helpless whimpers coming from the door, before he finally shot another load of semen all over Clare's chest: This produced yet another series of convulsive orgasms, and all was still for a moment. Sparing a glance for Ashley, he injected false desperation into his voice. "Quick! You've all got to make me hard again, or Ashley will become the class whore! Quickly! Clare, leave that cum there, we might need it!" oh, such bullshit. But it had the desired result. Sasha and Erin started to dance in front of him, fondling and caressing one another: Vanessa and Clare, meanwhile, decided to double-team sucking his dick, while Brittany began rubbing herself all over him, moaning continually: ‘We're all your whores, master. God, please fuck us. We need your cum so badly. We need to be fucked. We need you to fuck us. Tie us up and fuck us, master. Fuck me, Master... Fuck me..." he could feel her groping herself, as she went on in that sultry whisper. A few minutes later as he started to harden up, they all had their… tenth? Orgasm: As you might expect, coherent thought was somewhat difficult at that point. He managed to get them, however, focused on Ashley. As she began to cower from them, "Quick! Hold her down; she doesn't understand it's what's needed! Once she's bonded, I can spend the night with all of you!" They didn't need much encouragement, scrabbling forward to grab Ashley's legs, pulling them apart: Her arms, pinning her down, fondling her breasts, pulling forth unwanted moans from the hapless Blonde. Ashley, as may have been gathered, had received /most/ of the programming the other girls had gotten, but was lacking one, simple piece: The part that would have made her think nothing of sex with her classmates and professor. In her, it was in a dormant mode, not to activate until she'd been bonded. However, He'd added in a confusion component – the more she tried to escape, the harder she'd find it. Resulting in this confused, helpless heap by the door, moaning, aroused, and not knowing why. "Clare! I'm' not ready to fuck her yet... Time is nearly up! Rub all that cum on her body, It's a slim chance! Try and cover as much of her as possible! Vanessa, Help her!" And this they did. Ashley's eyes widened in panic, of course, and she began to writhe, to escape their grip: Moaning "No, no!" even as her cries of bliss at the way the other girls were treating her body escaped her lips. He could see the orgasm building in her, as the seemed covered her breasts, her belly… her neck... And just before it struck her, he shoved his dick in her pussy again: As programmed, the orgasm fed into her was the most intense yet, an ululating scream that seemed to deafen him, echoed by all the girls touching her, groping her, sucking her… And god, it felt good. Now for the Finale, to firmly lock this programming into their pleasure centres. "Shit!" he groaned. "You like fucking my pussy, master? Better than the pussy of all these other whores." Spat out Ashley. "I'm such a fucking Slut. I'm just here to please you, Master. That's why I do so bad at class. I'm a dumb blonde whore for you to fuck." "Yes you are, Ashley." He spat out. "But that's not it. I just realised... I forgot to say... When I finally cum in you, now you're all, the first group orgasm produced by you all being bonded won't stop until you pass out! It will just... fuck... Repeat and get stronger every time! And... oh fuck… It'll happen when I cum in you!" "Then fuck her, Master." Growled all the other girls, stroking his body, each other... then, following Sasha's lead, began focusing their attentions on Ashley. "Fuck this whore." "Yes.. oh, yes. Cum in your whore, cum in your whore, cum in your whore…" a mindless litany from Ashley as he pounded her tight cunt, as Erin fingered her ass, as Vanessa and Brittany kissed and bit her neck, as Sasha groped and fondled her breasts. All these gorgeous, intelligent girls, reduced to being cum-hungry whores, obedient to his every command. How could he withhold himself? And so, mere minutes later, he had his /third/ orgasm, deep into Ashley's pussy, and draped himself over her body as the girls beneath him, around him, over him began a mindless series of orgasms, again and again and again, passing out, one by one. The photograph of the girls, covered in cum, sweat, and groping one another in their unconsciousness was but the first for his album. But he had to admit: It was the best. Psych Credit This is a complete, rather odd story about a student's search for marks. It was a hell of a lot of fun to write; I have no idea how much fun it will be to read. Tell me, the few who will persist, I'd appreciate it. Gail Smithers is standing in a store considering her options, and they are vast. But she isn't looking for the deluxe, the racy, or even, really, the seductive, just something a little different, something that might change, however slightly, not her view of herself so much as her view of the subject, sex. So she chooses the yellowish white ones, silky and slightly lower cut than the cottons she purchases in packages, 3 for $15.00. And, when she arrives back to her room in the house she shares with nine other women, a room so small she thinks of it as a monastic cell, a cell because it's so small, monastic because she lives in it, she throws the small bag on her bed and sits down at her computer. She has an hour before dinner and has a lot of work to do. I like Gail Smithers, she isn't terribly pretty but she sure isn't plain, either. She has a longish narrow face, and a long, narrow nose but her lips are sensual above a strong pointed chin and it's all framed by medium length, rather straight, brown hair with a nice lustre to it, as if the shampoo she uses really makes a difference. If that description makes Gail's face appear rather sharp, I'm misleading you because I have yet to mention her most prominent facial feature: the eyes. They're beauties, big, round, brown and intelligent, but if a single word must describe them it must be 'innocent,' and why not, Gail has lived a highly sheltered life: she is the only sister to three brothers whose sole purpose in life has been, and by all accounts, still is, an eager search for promiscuous fun and pleasure. The consequence of this to Gail? She has been militantly guarded by this randy trio against the very things they so avidly seek. She didn't understand this, of course, and wouldn't have minded if she did: study, and particularly mathematics, are her passion, and her brothers' gift to her, the blinkers fixed so tight to her lovely eyes, allowed Gail to more closely focus on what she cares about most, achieving a top flight education. And achieve she has, at a university that has been home for two and a half years. But it's not her studies that interest us, well, not all of her studies. Our interest is in the journey she has so recently been forced to take, a journey that really should have, but for the brothers, begun some years before. But back to the eyes for a moment, they are innocent, yes, but curious, too, leading us to believe that if eyes really are windows to the soul, then Gail Smithers will be a very interesting person for us to get to know, as Agnes, a housemate, knows very well, that's why she's knocking on Gail's door now and entering the cell and our story. Agnes is a pleasant enough looking woman, 22 like Gail, but that's about all they share in common. In looks, Agnes has none of Gail's angularity or thinness. She is pleasant looking, even provocatively attractive, slightly over weight, big breasted, a bit frumpish, interested in the welfare of others, yes, but in herself, too. She's a nurturer, and, in stark contrast to Gail's no-nonsense sense of self, Agnes has a genuine outgoing cheerfulness that many find contagious, Gail among them and that's why she turns away from her computer and waves Agnes into the only other chair in the room. Now, dear reader, this will be a somewhat odd story, this story of discovery, so necessarily, it has a rather odd beginning. "I needed a break, am I disturbing you?" Gail could sense Agnes has something on her mind and tells her 'no,' she was just killing time before dinner. What is on Agnes' mind is this: her life's story. Her mother is coming to town in a few days and that got her to thinking about her family and her life, she got caught up in her trip down memory lane and realized that she was getting depressed and needed a change of scenery, so she left the lane for the cell. Depressed? Why? The story tumbled out over time, dinner was forgotten. Ags, for that is what Agnes demands to be called, hating with a passion, and our Ags knows passion, her given name, Agnes. Ags grew up in a farming community, (I note the pun, too) the only child of a farm machine salesman and his wife. She had a happy enough childhood, if, as she confessed to Gail, a significantly promiscuous one, adding, it was a farming community. Her almost three years in this city, however, haven't been particularly happy. For one, the competition for men has been too fierce for an only slightly attractive, uncompetitive farm girl, so she's yet to have a date, and, to make a long story short, she has so much pent up sexual energy that she thought she might explode. When Gail said it, she knew her solution was simplistic, but she said it anyway, better that then exploring the countless and complex alternatives facing Ags, which she knew nothing about anyway, and dinner was still a possibility. Why not masturbate? "Oh, God, Gail, thanks." And she saw her friend, really more of an acquaintance, stand up, pull down her pants and panties, almost lie on the chair in front of her and begin the process. Now, it really is possible to be more fascinated then shocked, and we have an example of that right here, but shock was there, too, you could see it cloud Gail's innocent eyes and she is about to take action when she checks herself — hadn't she, for the first time in her life, just purchased a pair of flimsies? No, the journey had already begun and she knew she'd better get her experiences where she could find them, so even though the word 'why?' lies foremost in her mind, she struggles for composure by suggesting to Ags she may be more comfortable on the bed. Ags agrees and moves the three steps to sit with her back against the wall, her heels by her cheeks and her legs opened wide. And that's when Ags spots the red bag with the yellow lettering, 'Undergarment Shoppe.' "Do you mind?" Gail shakes her head and notes that the fingers so recently caressing, are now dipping into the bag and pulling out the yellowish white contents, holding them up for inspection before looking at her audience, "Funny, I figured you for a cotton briefs girl." "They're a reminder," Gail explains cryptically, and when she notes the inquiring look says 'nothing important' and asks the question in the forefront of her mind, "Why are you doing this?" Now, I think there's something to the notion that children who grow up among rutting, sniffing, snorting, fucking, pissing, shitting farm animals have a different sense of self then you and I more accustomed to the essence of urban life, cars, potted plants, boutiques and gourmet restaurants. In a word, farm kids can be immeasurably more uninhibited, more likely to accept bodily functions as de rigeur. But this? Even Ags knew this was over the top so she explains herself, explains herself as she gently, oh so gently, caresses her pussy, seemingly oblivious that she is doing so. Ags had known Gail for almost three years now, noticed that Gail, like herself, never seemed to have dates and wondered if Gail is a lesbian or wanted to be one. Why this particular act to find out? Ags had done this once before, with success, so why not? Is Gail offended? Surprised and shocked and fascinated, yes, but no longer offended, (although Gail can't understand why she isn't). But you're saying that's too simply an explanation, surely there's more to it than that? True. "I've wanted to do this for you for over a year, it's one of my fantasies when I do this in my room." Is it working for you Ags? Yes, but for one thing: "You have fantastic tits, Gail. I'd love to see them." Two hours ago, Ags would have long since been in the hall with her ass severely kicked, but when Gail pulls her sweater over her head she does so knowing that the journey is already underway, it had begun, really, in the Undergarment Shoppe. "Can you stop there for a minute? You look delicious. Give me a few minutes before unveiling." Time enough to fill you in on why Ag's ass is on the bed with the panties, not in the hall with a footprint. Gail's journey is framed by an academic challenge. Could it be otherwise? This is a very serious girl, with little humour and grace, and she is focused, my goodness she is focused. To explain the academic challenge I'll use the words of her professor in her Psych 345 class of 120: "You will be paired randomly, mutually choose a subject from this box, you and your partner will meet twice weekly for discussion and you will each, separately, write a report worth 35% of your term mark, on what you have learned, how you have learned and what significant observations, I stress significant observations you can make about any and all insights. Remember, ladies and gentlemen, this is a psychology course so the 'how' is the raison d'ete, so the deeper you go, the better. Got it? And, oh, by the way. Your topics? Keep them to yourself, I don't want a bunch of complainers bitching that he got an easier topic than her." So, beyond sitting across from a pleasant girl with three fingers in her pussy, now glistening Gail notes, that's where things stand (and sit). It was a just a day before that she found that her topic, shared with a man she only just then met, was to be the three letter word, s-e-x. Now sex was something that Gail knew absolutely nothing about and had no interest in and that's why we found our protagonist, Gail, in the elegant Undergarment Shoppe: she was looking for a prop, a prop she could use to get herself thinking about this subject so foreign to her. Now panties as a prop may seem a bit limp and, in fact, she had first thought of a dildo, but she couldn't image driving one of those things into her, and, besides, the focus isn't supposed to be on pleasure, but understanding, so the silken, yellow white panties she selected, so different from her cottons, were meant, not to wear, but as iconography to remind herself to think about her own sexuality, and the purchase was her first tiny step on that journey. The second step is staring at her now and nodding, so Gail unfastens her bra, and quite frankly is a little pleased to do so because she knows that what she now reveals to the woman opposite, the one breaking the cell's monastic vow, are, in Sienfeldian terms, 'spectacular,' though she thinks of them as utterly useless and burdensome. "Watch me, Gail." Gail had been drifting off, trying to summon other sexual events in her young life. She, herself, had masturbated, of course, but rarely and never satisfactorily, and she once thought she might have seen her parents in a compromising pose, but her father had kicked the door shut and she was never sure. What else? She didn't think dogs could count and the stuff on celluloid never piqued her interest, so that left Jimmy's grope at her breast in grade 8, a grab that left Jimmy bleeding on the ground and later brutalized by the brothers. So now I have this, she thinks, a pleasant, likeable, happy girl with her mouth now slightly open, her eyes unusually hooded, now shivering her ass in time with her fingers. She looks silly, but in her complete abandonment, she looks sexy, too, so Gail takes another step in her journey and steps from her chair and asks her friend, holding her spectacular left breast in her hand, "Would you like a taste?" The explosion, noisy and wet and, for a moment, paralyzing, is over in seconds, but Ags holds the breast to her mouth for another minute until Gail gently pulls it away, leaving a child to slowly become a woman again. Let us now visit the trendy coffee house on the corner of Signal Street and Givens, but before we go in, let's look through the window and wait, they will be here soon. Gail arrives first and sits down. We know her so let's just observe her demeanor. She is composed, business-like and focused, like at a chemistry experiment. Now Tom Brooks, for that is his name, stands by the table. Tom is an athlete, not an elite athlete, he cares too much about his studies for that, but a good one, and an active one and that's why his 6' tall body is muscular and toned. What does he look like? Well, let's read Gail's thoughts, 'nice looking, sensible looking.' Odd term, 'sensible looking,' but it's on the mark: Tom has a neat, well proportioned face with nothing particularly distinguishing save for the look, the fix of his face, which is part intense, part curious, with just a hint of cynicism, in other words, a sensible face, one that will never be thrust unwanted into another's business, but one that can be trusted, one that will be consulted from time to time for its speculations on things, perhaps even for the knowledge it can emit, though the face shows only 22 years. And another reason to call it a sensible face? The eyes in the sensible face notice that Gail has nothing in front of her on the table (though he did notice ..., well, more on that later), so he asks her what she would like, and then they are together, or at least, across the table from each other, a table on which stands two large steaming cups. We're inside now, in time to hear Gail say, "I am a tabula rasa, a blank slate. I know nothing about the subject of sex and I'm compelled to announce my bona fides from the onset." There, it is done, she got it out, her admission of absolute ignorance on so mundane, yet so fascinating a subject is out in the open, but the confident smile that seemed to suggest that this admission is a good thing, slips from her face when Tom says, "Then I am to speak and you are to take notes?" Well, no, of course not, she says to herself, but only to herself, because to him she says nothing, she can think of nothing to say, so she fumbles in her purse and comes out with her note book and, when she licks the end of her pencil, Tom laughs, surprisingly hard, a good laugh, a kind laugh. Then he turns serious. "This is 35% of our mark, you know." "But it's a journey of discover," she has prepared her argument, "we aren't expected to be experts, it's all about what we learn and how we learn it. Plumbing the depths of my abysmal ignorance on the subject can be just another 'how' of the journey." She didn't much like her words, true as she thought they are, so she tries to deflect his attention from them by adding, "did you know that the word plumbing is a derivative from the Latin word for lead?" "Alright," he said, with resignation, "let's begin in the abyss of your abysmal ignorance," and they did and spent an hour there and when they left the restaurant they both thought they had exhausted pretty much everything that could be considered academic on the subject (Gail, of course, had brought copious research notes). But even though Tom's disappointment had been obvious, both knew it had been a somewhat promising start, they had laid down their base, and they agreed they would begin in two day's time on 'clothing.' Clothing. It was his observations, or at least the ones he cited when they met again that got the ball rolling. The bare midriffs, the tight pants, the tank tops, the gossamer thin bras that seem to excite the nipple, they are all having an effect, but a counter-productive effect, men are turning away from the scantily and provocatively attired women of today, bored, as if the women are trying too hard, trying with too much desperation. "Is that how you react?" There, her first direct question, the first personal question, and if she stays on the offensive maybe he will leave her alone, maybe he won't reach into the chalice of her innocence to reveal the utter incompetence of her socialization. The sensible face thinks only for a second before saying, "Well, if there was one in a crowd of prissies, then the eye might go to her, but if the crowd was all like her, then ya, you'd probably just pass by." You might pass by or you might pass by? Coy, isn't he, "And by prissies, you mean women dressed like me." Well, the sensitive face can blush and apologize, "Sorry, a word for contrast." But the gloves are off now, partially off, and the dialogue is taking shape, an interesting exchange, really, but in the absence of any polls or scientific data, mere speculations, and then the subject became more interesting. He got down to the underwear first, really just alluding to it, but she got specific, and immediately regretted that she had. "So the world wants to know," she thought she was being terribly clever, "is it briefs or is it boxers?" "Briefs," he says without hesitation, "and you?" "Briefs." Her own word sounded strange to her, surreal, am I taking about my underwear? But, really, it's just another step on a strange journey. "But women don't have briefs, do you, aren't yours more specific?" "Specific?" "Aren't your large cut, French cut, Polish cut, low cut, side cut, high riders, low riders, high riders, side riders, thong, bikini, spaghetti, dental floss." Gail laughs and remembers the Undergarment Shoppe when he interrupts her, "And your choice is?" She had never talked about underwear before, not with her mother, certainly not with her brothers and, needless to say, never with a stranger, sensitive face or not. She shifts uncomfortably on the bench seat and is considering her response when he says, "Look, Gail, this is our second session and I've asked you about your panties and you're having a hard time with that. What's going to happen when I ask you about masturbation, how you do it, where you do it, what you think of when you're doing it. And what's going to happen when I ask you about your fantasies, you peccadillo, your fetishes, and how you like to be fucked. What are you going to say then?" He waits for a response but she says nothing, seeming to be searching the table top for an answer. So with his finger, he drew the line in the sand, well, on the tabletop. "I want the marks, Gail, I'm in this for the marks, so either we agree right now to get down and dirty on this, that we tell each other every fucking thing we need to in order to reach the destination of this exercise, or we should call it a day here and now and try to find other partners and another assignment." It couldn't have been more plain, more starkly plain and she is smart enough to realize that she has a lot to learn and this guy, this sensitive face across the table, may be the best teacher she can find and besides, she needs the marks, too, so the words she chooses, or more precisely, the words she blurts out aren't all that difficult, "I have never had sex, I have never been felt, well once, sort of, I seldom masturbate, never successfully and I wear plain, white cotton panties." She is speaking to her tabletop but when she looks up, she is met with an encouraging smile. "I've had sex, not often, I like to masturbate and when I do I often think of women, but never in plain, white cotton panties, they're usually in something sexier than that which are often red." He smiles, no blush. "So why do you wear just plain, white cotton panties?" Her confidence is gone now, and she now knows why she wears plain, white cotton panties, because 'I'm a skinny, sexless, unimaginative twit who hasn't the sexual imagination to wear anything else.' She thinks these words through before saying them, but she does say them and it surprises her when she does. "Do you really think that?" "Yes,'" she says, "I think I do." "Does it bother you that you haven't the sexual imagination to wear anything but plain white cotton underwear?" "Not until now." And that is true, her underwear had never been an issue with her, not until now, but now she wishes they were pink or light blue and maybe a little lower in the cut so she could have something to say. Psych Credit "Let's talk about it." "My underwear?" Even to her, her voice sounds like a child's. He nods his head, then says, "But in the interest of fair disclosure, I must report that I'll have a hard on when we do, have one now." She wants to laugh, or blush or flee or do something, something other than what she does, she asks, "You do?" in the same child-like voice that is still obnoxiously reverberating in her own ears. Then he explains to her that most men, as far as he knew, found women's panties and women's bras really sexy, really stimulating, not on every woman, he looks around the coffee house and in doing so makes his point, but that even the plainest woman can be made more attractive, more interesting to men even if they only hint that they wear sexy panties. Men didn't actually have to see them, just knowing they're there is a turn on. "And knowing what I'm wearing is a turn off?" No, he explains, not a turn off per se, but, in truth, he would think of her differently if she was trying to be just a bit provocative, if she thought of herself as being sensual and sexy enough for Victoria's Secret. "I mean, it's all about messages." "But if I didn't tell you about what I'm wearing, how would you know?" "It's all about messages, Gail," he repeats what he thinks is an aphorism, then adds, "they're the default brand, send another message and let my imagination do the rest." When she gets home, she studies herself in the small mirror in the shared bathroom. She looks for something that would send out a message, the message that 'I am an intelligent, sexual, exciting woman and I want you to know that.' But it isn't there, she can't find it so she takes off her sweater and she takes off her pants and though she can't see herself in the small mirror, only her face, she does feel more exposed and she thinks she can detect that in her eyes, and when she lightly touches her nipple through the tight material of her white jog bra she thinks she can see a little spark in her eyes, and then her fingers find her panties and she walks them along the thin cotton, letting them travel to places they had never been before and she watches her eyes, her large innocent eyes for any glimmer of understanding that they are travelling in a forbidden zone, a naughty zone, a desirable zone and she thinks that yes, the exploration is just a little bit exciting and just a little bit illegal and that's when Nancy hammers on the door, "I've got to pee!" So she quickly pulls on her pants and sweater, unlocks the adjoining door, saying "its all yours," and she retires to her room, but not to her desk, to her bed, a cot really, against the wall, and she takes off her pants, wondering why she had put them on again (but this is new territory for our girl Gail and walking a few steps partially unclothed would have heretofore been unthinkable). She is on her bed now, with her back against the wall and with her knees tight to her chest. She is hugging them, squeezing them, thinking, and then she jumps from the bed, taking off her jog bra in the process and rummages through a drawer before finding it, one that is noticeably smaller, whiter, softer, and flimsier. She puts it on and lets her hands cup the material, then she gets back onto the bed, back into the same position and she holds that position for a few minutes, then she opens her legs, slowly, she has a plan and she wants to tease herself, tantalize herself as if it isn't her eyes that are fixed on her mound, which she has never really notice before but thought rather pretty, but some unseen eyes, desperate for a peek, perhaps Ag's eyes. Then as her fingers massage the mound through the thin film of the panties they catch on the hint of moisture on the material but in a few minutes they begin to pick up speed slipping along on the slickness and then her panties become somewhat translucent so an area of her thick black bush emerges and even the outlines of her lips, her outer labia, she would later learn. Hair tuft from the sides of her panties, along her smooth very white thighs so she plucks at some, noticing it for the first time and then she let her fingers trace the wet spot again, trace all around it, making the spot grow. 'Touch, taste, smell,' he had said, so she puts her fingers under her panties and caresses the slippery walls of her cunt, exploring its complexity before bringing her fingers to her nose, from a distance at first and then, as she grow more accustomed to the unfamiliar scent, closer and more closely and then her tongue emerges, hesitantly, for a taste, just a touch, barely a contact. She doesn't like it and dilutes the pungent taste with the saliva in her mouth. But to business now. She lifts her ass from the bed and slips her panties off, bringing them up to her nose and fingering the wet spot before dropping them to the floor and then she settles back, spreads her legs, looks at the ceiling and lets her fingers do whatever they could to help her get her grade. How did we know all this? She didn't, after all, invite us in and she certainly wouldn't tell us about it, not straight-laced Gail Smithers, but she did tell Bill, she told him every step of her journey, not using our words, the words we've used, but employing her own excellent vocabulary, her unsurpassed observatory skills and her dispassionate researcher voice, which caused Bill to comment, "You make it sound so clinical." But wasn't that the point? Well, no, not if the journey is one of discovery and, to make his point, Bill tells his story. Now as I've said, Gail Smithers is an excellent student with a major in mathematic, but, in truth, she isn't terribly imaginative and so, perhaps understandably, she thinks Tom's words a tad excessive: blowing, eating, probing, licking, slurping, sucking and in no more than a minute, two at the outside? "See what I mean?" he says, showing a little pride, "See the difference? I think adverb, you think noun." But she doesn't see the difference, she thinks she has said the same thing, more or less, with different words. But later that evening when she enters her monastic cell, now a little less monastic, the scope of her challenge has come more clearly into focus. The problem, or more accurately the challenge, is for her to become considerably more emotionally involved in her subject, to go much deeper, to become more imaginative and creative. She needs to break out of the straight jacket that has shut her down from youth, so she turns around and leaves. But she's back now, sitting on her computer chair, but swiveled around, swiveled around to face Ags. "You've got to promise me, Ags, you've got to swear on whatever you need to swear on, that you won't tell anyone, you won't tell a soul." Ags nods, but that isn't good enough for Gail and her insistent eyes encourage Ags to say, "I promise, Gail, honest, I won't." "OK, I trust you. Flemming from Psych?" Ags knows she refers to the Psych 345 professor, "He made us promise not to tell anyone about our research topic, right?" Ags nods. "Mine is sex." "Sex! shit!" Ags explodes, "You got sex? I got Mars," she blurts out the words, then realizing she, too, has broken the professor's taboo, clamps a hand over her mouth. 'Mars?' thinks Gail, now that's an interesting subject, "I won't tell." But Ags isn't ready to move on from the injustice, "Jesus Christ, how did you get sex? Sex, for chrissake and I got fucking Mars. It's just not fucking fair." Gail lets Ags vent for a few minutes but, no, she wont tell her the name of her partner, and then Ags laughs at the irony and injustice and Gail gets to her point. "I need a tutor." And she explains why, her abysmal lack of knowledge, her indifference, the fast-approaching timeline, the need to participate, to pull her share of the load (that gets Ags' eyebrows up but Gail doesn't notice) .... So Gail needs help and when she asks for Ag's, she makes it sound like she is seeking help in a biology experiment. But never mind how she asks, Ags is in. So lets linger in the cell and watch, but let's stick mainly with the action, the words, after all, only inspire them, but we'll need some words, like these: "So the point is for you to help me actually enjoy my sexuality, that's what I'm missing. I mean I know how to drag a finger on me, it's just that that doesn't do much for me. I don't actually get it." Then she added the caveat that took the glow right off Ag's cheeks. "I want you to show me, not touch me, I want to be able to do this myself." So Ags sighs and adjusts her strategy, drastically adjusts her strategy and they both stripped down to their bra and panties and sit on the bed. Now I want to be clear about something, our Gail, as I have said, is an interesting woman who really thinks she might like to be an interesting, sexual woman, and not just for marks, either, for her own fulfillment, too, it's just that she has never gotten around to getting it together. But this Psych Credit demanded her attention to the subject and if nothing else, Gail is a very good student and you don't get to be a very good student unless you not only work hard, but work hard with enthusiasm, so, it's fair to say that, sitting on the bed, Gail is eager and excited, but eager and excited like a student taking her first tennis lesson, and Ags tells her so. They are at opposite ends of the bed now, Gail against the wall and Ags propped up on pillows but both with their legs open and their hands between them. Gail follows every one of Ag's movements, the delicate caressing of the thighs and the panty covered pussy, the other fingers sometimes at the breast, pinching and massaging, sometimes on the stomach, caressing, teasing, sometimes with their twins, rubbing, prodding, sometimes in the mouth, sucking, exploring. And it's working, you can see it in the wet spot that is growing perceptibly on the panties, but on Ag's panties, only on Ag's panties. They are naked now and following the same routine and Ags is always talking, encouraging, instructing and now she is teaching Gail to use the brain, to send the mind into the dirtiest reaches of the imagination, to explore ideas, not for their value but to make the pussy hotter, the fingers wetter, and then the dirty talk, the dirty, filthy talk, the audible taboo, but it can release, Ags explains, as it seems to be releasing for her. Now Ags expertly shows her partner how to dip her fingers into her cunt, how to spring the ass forward in a bucking motion to fuck the fingers, to fuck and fuck and fuck ... but Ags isn't talking now, she is bucking, mesmerized by the spectacular tits that bounces so cheerfully, so enticingly, so invitingly, so unbelievable erotically within a few feet of her mouth, her lips, her tongue and then it hit her and though she wants to, oh God how she wants to, she doesn't have the strength, even if she had permission, which she doesn't, to take those unbelievably fabulous tits in her mouth. So it had been a relative failure Gail explains to Tom, herself, with her pasty white skin, boney shoulders, flat, narrow, white stomach that look like the baffles of an accordion when she bends forward, or sideways for that matter, 'I am surprisingly flexible,' and her hair, tuffs of the stuff, between her legs and under her arms, black and long and darker then the dark brown hair on her head. And Ags, Ags with her big pendulous udders that swing almost onto her rounded belly, as her fleshy brown legs stretched wider and wider as her fingers went deeper and deeper into her cunt until she screamed. Let's look at Tom now, he isn't moving, hadn't moved in maybe ten minutes, maybe 15, isn't breathing either or doesn't appear to be but his mouth is slightly open, slack-jawed I call it, and his eyes are strangely dull: vacant, bovine, and he appears slightly hunched and when Gail finished her report he appears lost, distant, in another world, oblivious of her, and she finds herself tapping on the table to get his attention. So, as required, as they had agreed, she had done her homework and has now given her report. Good, progress, she is holding up her end of the bargain, this is becoming a viable partnership. "So what's next?" she asks in a voice hinting at enthusiasm, but why not? She's hot in educational pursuit, and Gail is an avid student. "Fantasies and fetishes," he says, not certain why that subject sprang to mind. Now most men are competitive by nature, and not always, but often more competitive than women, so when Bill showed up at the coffee shop two nights later he had worked hard on his homework, which, he admitted, had heretofore been less prepared and, ah, less interesting than his partner's, and in his competitiveness, he was an athlete after all, he had no intension of being out-storied by a skinny, little ..., and there she is, skinny, yes, a little, but not really, more thin, even svelte, a model's figure he decides, and that really is a radiant smile and, those eyes, she really does have magnificently innocent eyes, clear and intelligent, and that rack, God she's built, they're beauties, especially the way they curve to the side, the way they're so rounded, and firm, they're in better focus now, yes, beauties, marvelous, and they don't seem to jiggle much when she walks and the nipples show, not a lot but enough, they kind of .... "Tom?" He lifts his eyes to the voice and blushes then struggles to get up but aware of his hard-on, changes his mind and waves to her to sit across from him. They no longer fish for a useful segue into the proceeding. They know their assignment, they trust each other to do their homework and the purpose of the twice-weekly meetings is to report, a kind of kiss and tell, if you will. Fantasies and fetishes tonight. Now Bill has put a lot of thought into this, he has planned it out well, he has no intention of being the dullard in an assignment he now sees more as a competition. Yes, she seems to be doing more research then he is, and more interesting research, (it really was most inventive of her to bring in a tutor, and didn't Ags sound like a good one?), but he is inventive, too, and he'd show her. Beat this, he thinks as he leans forward on the table. Now, Tom had already alluded to a slight panty fetish, really a mild fixation, so he thought he'd open by developing that theme, a kind of soupcon before the main course. He now explains how, with panties, he likes to see 'the whimsy of the weave wash over the shame-hairs and collect in the mystical reaches 'neath the mons.' Now I've failed to mention that because this is a kind of research project both have notebooks and Gail Smithers is furiously scribbling in hers. When she looks up she is smiling politely but did he notice a slight smirk? Dump the poetry, he thinks, as he pushes on about how he especially likes nylon and the deeper colours for he feels they hold the heat better, 'the mystical essence of the sex', feeble and he knows it, and vows not to try for another, and he likes how nylon holds the scent, too, but he didn't elaborate, and ended with his belief that darker panties shows the 'growing joy' with more evidence. And then he left the subject, she didn't seem to be very interested in it anyway, but how could she be? How could she understand his panty fetish, really more an interest? What woman could? I mean if women could have a panty fetish wouldn't it mean that they'd be getting off all day, just walking around, or even sitting, and in a few generations wouldn't the fetish be bred out of them, I mean, if not, nothing would get done, the housework, the office work. And how long has nylon been around, anyway? Well, doesn't that prove my point? When he looks at her, he hesitates a little before beginning because he notices, perhaps for the first time, that really, she's kind of cute, in an academic sort of way, would probably be quite striking in dark rimmed glasses and a white lab coat, opened and framing her ..., but he can see a hint of impatience in her eyes now so he presses on. But, anyway, he wants to, he has looked forward to this, he wants to show her that he, too, is adventuresome, he too has interesting areas in his psych. Yes, the image of you at one end of the cot and Ags at the other (and, really, he didn't think of Ags as over-weight, more curvaceous, look at those thighs, open and soft, and such beautiful tits with the very kind of areoles he liked, big and dark and slippery looking, so the tongue) ... her eyes are more insistent now, so he begins the script he had rehearsed to his mirror. "You have three brothers, I know, so you may well have shared this feeling, this fantasy. I have a sister. She's a year younger than me, very pretty, with lovely breasts and smooth, beautifully smooth thighs and an ass, God it's fantastic and round and she's an athlete like me, so she's strong, and muscular and her ass cheeks? Well sometimes at night, sometimes when I'm in my bed and I have my hand on my ...," Is the smile fading, her encouraging smile, so recently on her lips, is it fading? And is that doubt now? And now a scowl? A scowl of distaste? Yes, clearly, and she's fidgeting, she doesn't seem to be listening, listening to his well crafted story about the sister he didn't have. He is mumbling now, doesn't hear his own words and she isn't listening anyway, and he knows it so he wraps it up, wraps it up quickly and, he thinks, not very well, "and those are some of my thoughts." She smiles now, probably relieved that he has finished, and she is stuffing her notebook in her purse. Is she a bit annoyed? He can't be sure. "And yours?" he asks, in a voice that sounds to him a bit weak, a bit defensive. "Mine?" "Your fantasies and fetishes," he says, hopefully. "Oh, mine. It's not nearly so interesting," she says, as if she had been listening and not tuning him out, and then she follows the script Ags had prepared for her after she had admitted to Ags that she couldn't think of a single fetish of her own. "Mine's pretty common, I think, you've probably heard it many times before." And then she hesitated, as Ags had directed, waiting him out. "What is it?" There's that voice again, that same damn voice, but he shakes it off because she is about to speak, she is about to speak about herself, about her fantasies, her fetishes. He is glad the room is so quiet and wonders why he's moved forward, wonders why his elbow are in the middle of the table. "I've always wanted to share my boyfriend with my three roommates." Dumb, she thinks, but, there, she has said it and then she finishes the script, "But, that's all I've got, Tom, weak, isn't it, haven't done it yet, can't report on it, and look, I've gotta rush, see you Tuesday," and she grabs her purse but Tom doesn't seem to notice, he seems to be staring, staring at her even though she is no longer there. Ags is already waiting for her, smiling as usual. Gail joins her, accepts the glass of wine and clinks her glass with the offered toast, 'to friendship'. Conversation is never strained between the two and they cover a lot of ground very quickly, even why Ags had asked her out to dinner, this seems a pretty expensive place. "Because I want to suggest something to you," she says, "and I wanted a place where we were seated and comfortable so we could discuss it." And a place less easy to flee from, she thinks. And then she makes her pitch. She herself is lonely, man-less, bored. Gail needs help, urgently needs help, doesn't the student want marks (the student reference is clever, don't you think?). And then she delivers her well considered close, "You are 22 years old and haven't yet had an orgasm. Don't you want one?" Of course she did. "Then give yourself to me for a night and I will make absolutely certain you get one. That's a promise." Psych Credit Then the discussion, the details: How? And Ags has her answer, Gail has to be shown where the pleasure centers are and how to draw them out and it's not good enough for Ags to be Gail's mirror, Ags, herself, must explore Gail's body, to probe it for its pleasures. But isn't that lesbianism? Scoff, I am not lesbian and nor (perhaps) are you. "I dunno, Ags." She had her clincher: "Do you want the marks?" In fact, for a student, the hotel room is rather expensive, but Ags thinks, now that Gail is here it's well worth the price, and she's relieved that the blue movie isn't to be her only reward. And now that Gail is here, here in the room and resigned as she is, Ags lays out the ground rules. We don't have to be out of here until noon tomorrow, we're here to have fun, we're here to introduce you to the mysteries and the magic of orgasm and even though, as a student, you are here to learn, I will never do anything you don't want me to do, when you say stop, let's call that 'Alice', I will 'Alice' and when I ask you to do something to me and you don't want to, well you can just 'Alice' it. Any questions? Those innocent eyes are wide now, and nervous, but Gail is an accomplished student and when she makes a commitment to learn she goes after it, goes after it with alacrity, but the nodding head shows little enthusiasm, certainly nothing like what radiates on Ag's face, and that's the last we hear of Alice. Now we have a choice here, three of them in fact. We can follow events from three perspectives: from an eye on, say, the ceiling, or a corner of a pillow; through Gail's open and innocent eyes, or from Ag's point of view. But is it a choice at all? The naked, unthinking eye just records, and Gail's eyes, though thinking, may be looking at this enterprise only for the grades, so that leaves Ags, and that's where I want to be, in Ag's head, to cite a single place. So, but for the shoes, they are sitting on the bed fully clothed and Ag's hand is caressing Gail's hair, gently, soothingly while all the time her senses search, futilely, for a reaction. Now her fingers move to stroke Gail's cheek and her words are as soft as her caress, "you are pretty, Gee," (for that's what she will now call Gail, Gee because, when she thought about this moment, as she did last night, most of the night, she thought that the name Gail was too sharp, too awakening while Gee had a more soothing effect) "do you think you are pretty?" (Get her talking.) I don't know, maybe a little. "But you are, Gee" and she uses a finger to softly trace her features, "you have lovely hair, a beautiful brow and beautiful eyebrows and your eyes," she kissed them softly, each, "they're so honest and innocent, and your nose is so elegant, so refined and your lips," she let her fingers linger on Gee's lips hoping Gee will kiss them, maybe suck on them as she would suck on Gee's, but no, so she kissed her on her lips softly, a peck really, then looks for a reaction, none, so she pecks her again, this time lingering, pecking with gentle sucks all around these sensual lovely brown lips, lips that are moving now, quivering, really, so Ags slips out the tip of her tongue to add moisture and she stabs it gently, oh so gently, into the corners of Gee's mouth, encouraging it to open, open just a little to say, yes, I like what you're doing to me, you can do more, and when her mouth did open, Ag's heart stopped and she leans Gee down on her back and lies with her, then she pulls Gee's legs so they're beside hers and she leans over Gee and continues to caress her lips with her own. "Open your mouth a little more for me, Gee," and the student does as she is told and Ags traces Gee's lips with her tongue, now wet with anticipation and she gently searches inside, to the teeth and then to the tongue and then she brings her hand to Gee's fabulous breast, ignoring the slight flinch, and strokes it, as her tongue plays, and then the body beneath her fingers trembles and she realizes just how fragile it is, how vulnerable, how childlike and she pulls away. "I don't want to hurt you, Gee, or scare you." I know. But Ags isn't convinced and she pulls away further, retreating and she studies the figure lying so lifelessly on the bed, but for the faintly perceptible tremble, with the mouth still open, opened in obedience and she could go no further. Ags is a sexual woman, a highly charged sexual woman, but she's no predator. "I am scaring you, Gee." The open mouth moved, 'a little,' so Ags lays on her back and stares at the ceiling, like the figure beside her, "If you want you can do to me what I was doing to you," and she lays still and waits. But she doesn't wait long for Gail is here to learn and she moves over and places her lips on Ag's and then her hand on Ag's big soft breast and Ags shows her how to respond by dragging her lips against Gee's and opening her mouth wide and using her tongue to encourage, to tease her, to invite Gee in while her own hand covers the one on her breast teaching it to caress and squeeze and explore and when she takes it down her belly the moan starts, "Oh, kiss me, kiss me," kiss these lips that have been so lonely, so ignored and Gee does and Ags takes her hand and cups it over her jean-covered sex and she bucks at Gee's hand, pushing up as she forced it down. And she screams. Ags lies silently for a minute then looks at the woman beside her, and turns to lie on her side, staring at Gee, "I'm so sorry, Gail, this isn't supposed to be about me." "Is it so easy for you? Even with your clothes on?" Ags could see the fascination in Gail's eyes and she rests her head on Gee's chest and is glad of the arms that are squeezing her, squeezing her tightly but she breaks free and climbs on top of Gee, putting her legs between Gee's and holds her, forcing her pelvis down, down onto Gees. And they lay like that, lifeless, the final embrace, resigned to an evening spent when Ag's heart leaps as she feels the timid fingers gently pulling at her sweater, pulling it upward so she makes it easy for them, she sits up and let Gee take off her sweater and when she feels the gentle push, she falls to the bed and watches the fingers open the belt, undo the button and zipper and drag her jeans and panties from her body. Gee is kneeling over Ags, now studying her, so Ags pulls a pillow under her head and opens her legs and, feeling a bit like a Petrie Dish, watches the face so calm in concentration. Gee's fingers traces patterns (an equation?) on Ag's rounded belly, then plays her fingers into Ag's thin, wispy black bush, tugging gently at it (playfully?) before exploring the crevices of Ag's crotch. They are both there now, both sets of fingers, both sets exploring and then they part the sparse hair and Ags can feel her lips part and then the finger enters, tentatively, exploring the walls, softly, uncertainly, as if exploring a dangerous place and then another finger arrives and together they go deeper and deeper and they twist and it is then that Ags realizes that the moans that fill the room are hers and she reaches out and takes Gee's hand and she holds them still for a moment before removing Gail's fingers from her pussy. She gives the troubled eyes a smile of thanks and Ags is about to get up when Gee lightly pushes her down and reaches behind Ags and undoes her bra, taking it off her shoulders, discarding it from the bed. The same fascinated eyes now study the soft white orbs with their long erect nipples standing on their dime-sized areolas. Gee picks one up and kissed it and then puts the nipple in her mouth and with her eyes shut she sucks on it, sucks on it with sucking and slurping sounds, then she lays her head on Ags and continues to nurse, as a child might nurse and Ags caresses her hair, hoping this girl, this confused, vulnerable child will find the nourishment to awaken a woman. When Ags awakens, Gail is still asleep, now with her head on Ag's belly with the nipple now resting by her nose. Do you trust me, she asks quietly, wondering if the woman might be awake. Yes. Then with your permission here's what I would like to do, and she ticked off the items like a kind of To Do list, knowing it is the language Gail understands. Gail nods. Ags takes Gee's sweater off and delays only a few seconds on the bra, kissing it to feel the heat, to breath in the scent and then she has it off and Gee's pants and Gee lies there in her plain white cotton panties almost like a doll, a thin, white porcelain doll with heavenly tits that spilled over her ribs and little sprigs of hair peeking from her armpits and groin. Ags kisses the mouth which seemed almost stiff in resolve, licking the lips and sucking the long elegant nose, then she has the nipple in her mouth but she catches herself and quickly slows, becomes more gentle, more thoughtful and she reaches down and encourages Gee's legs to part, and they do, just a little, then a little more until they spread wide enough for Ags to cup Gee's sex and feel the intake of breath and then the subtle quiver of the pelvis, which becomes more insistent now so Ags leaves the breast, stripping the panties and places her well-trained fingers to their best advantage. The moans are tiny and guttural, from the back of the throat, very quiet at first, but they built with the thrusts at Ag's fingers, then Gee leans up, watching her own pussy rise to the occasion, fascinated that something in her could feel so good, then, succumbing to the pleasure, she wraps her arms around Ags while furiously throwing herself against Ag's fingers, then she buries her face into Ag's breasts and lets out such a wail that it makes Ags come. Another might have been content, content with her partner's pleasure and her own, but not Ags, there is still pleasure left and it now runs down the inside of Gee's leg, so she turns and lies in the opposite direction. This time, she doesn't ask, she hasn't time, it's there, it's there for her and she takes it. The legs don't respond to the first push, nor the second, but Ags is not deterred, she pries them open and with her hands under the thighs she holds them and studies the black glistening hair for only a second before she buries her face into Gee's cunt, but something makes her restrain herself, she wants to go inside, deep inside, her tongue, her nose to wallow in Gee's rich creamy cum, but she lingers at Gee's opening, licking at her lips, inside and out, along it's magnificent length, and it's long, Ags notes, much longer then her own and hairier, much hairier, deliciously hairy, and all the time she inhales the pungent stink of sex, allowing her nose to swipe along the juices and now she is caressing Gees thighs while searching for a reaction, something that will tell her that her pleasure, which is now nearly absolute, is being shared. And, in time, five minute? ten? she thinks she detects a reaction, slight, maybe only in Ag's imagination, but she thinks she feels a stirring so she hugs the legs, squeezes and turns and pulls them on to her so Gee's pussy presses into her face. But Gee lies lifeless on the bed. "Do what I'm doing, Gee." There is a moment's hesitation before the body moves, before it climbs onto Ag's soft, warm, welcoming skin and Ag's jumps when she feels Gee's face in her hair, it has been so long, so fucking long, only in my dreams, day and night. "Let's lick, Gee," and she opens her legs and lays a hand on Gee's head, pressing only a little, encouragingly and with the other she coaxes Gee's legs to part so she can feel her warmth and wetness on both her eyes. There is a moment during sex, a moment between control and abandon and Ags has long thought that the best sex is extending that moment, coaxing the moment to become two, three, a continuum and she tries, tries to lengthen the moment but she's out of practice and hungry, far too hungry, and her scream, her wet muffled scream comes when her lips, tongue and face reach the utmost depth of Gee's cunt. But she doesn't pull out, instead she rests, enjoying the timid licking at her own juices and with each timid lick she recharges her strength. Sex is often about opportunity and there is one item on Ag's own, personal To Do left undone, so she waits and thinks and messages Gee's ass with increasing roughness until she can wait no longer and she is on her knees on the floor and her face, still slick with cum, is between Gee's cheeks and she is sucking and probing and licking, what? She stops, pulls back and looks. The cheeks are strong but they are stretched apart and the puckering bud is exposed. Ags takes her time now, she puts her fingers in her pussy and just takes her time and is pleased when Gee rises up on her knees and spreads her legs as if giving Ags permission. With gently suction, she holds it tenderly in her lips, tasting it with her tongue, it is so tender, so innocent, take your time, she is resting on her arms, perhaps sleeping, she will stay there for you, submissively, see, she is opening wider now. Oh, my goodness, my goodness. The sun shines through the windows when their eyes meet. They smile but say nothing and Ags turns to the phone and asks, while dialing, "Coffee, anything more?" Coffee, and it arrives in a bit and, in a Terry cloth robe, the first she's ever worn (and the last, she vows) she accepts the tray from the waiter and, dismissing his smirk, watches him leave and in minutes the two are across from each other with cups in hand. The fun is over for now, the conversation relatively uninteresting. Yes, Gail had her orgasm, and, yes, she enjoyed the rest, the sucking, the licking, the tonguing and, yes, that business with my behind was interesting, 'but I kept trying to remember what I had for lunch,' so yes, in the final analysis, she had enjoyed it all, but it seemed to Ags that Gail might have been describing a Ferris Wheel ride or a trip to Magic Mountain, certainly worth doing but with an element of been-there-done-that, too. Ags thinks of exploring her observation but backs off, she is no psychiatrist and as horny as she is, as horny as she always is, how could she, herself, understand what appears to be the opposite in another. So the conversation trails off into things of little consequence, certainly of no consequence to Ags who still squirms with the knowledge that there's a very pretty body beneath that terrycloth across the table, the terrycloth hiding a truly spectacular pair of tits, but, alas, she knows it's a body spent, a body shut down now so when she mentions it, she isn't sure if it's because she wants to try to shock that body back into action, or because she wants some constructive advice, or because it's been on her mind for so damn long that she just wants to get it off. But the eyes that look back at hers have shock in them, of that Ags has no doubt, her only doubt is why she was so foolish as to bring it up in the first place. She must explain herself. It was in her senior year of high school when she first noticed it, and she thought it occurred more often as the year progressed. She said nothing about it, how could she? what if she was wrong and, yes, even if she was right, it was wrong. But, away at University, as she had been, and working summer jobs away from home, she had wondered about it. It intrigued her, excited her but scared her a little, too, because if she was right, that might mean that her mother had been living a more difficult life then she had let on, and that's what Ags had long suspected. Her mother and father had been happily married, she had no doubt of that, but she knew that they lived reserved, constrained lives, unlike their only daughter who's inhibitions were somewhat legendary in the community. So Ags told Gail, and later had no idea why she had, that she thought often about her mother and grew to first wonder, and later to become fascinated with, whether or not those looks she thought her mother was giving her meant what she thought they meant. What kind of looks? Ags hesitated before answering Gail's naive question (if she didn't get it by now ...), thought better of it but went ahead anyway. Oedipal looks, incestuous looks, she wanted to make love to me. When Gail finally got it, her innocent eyes clouded with such confusion that Ags no longer expected any help, she just used Gail as a sounding board, knowing she would never repeat her words, even if she ever understood them. When Ag's mother announced she was coming for a visit, she had in past years too but always with the father, Ags toyed with the idea of confronting her mother, even tried out a number of scenarios, but none of them worked, all of them were dynamite that could be lit by her mother's denial. So what to do? Ags muttered on in idle thoughts and speculations. In the end, it was Gail who hit on the answer. By bolting from the coffee shop, Gail and Tom didn't have a chance to set a topic for this meeting so they used it to review what they had accomplished to date and to outline what had been left undone, left unsaid. Tom gave his thoughts on the matter, and Gail took notes, then it was Gail's turn. "I want a lab." "A lab?" Then she told him about her recent experience in the hotel room, leaving out any reference to Ag's mother, and asked for a lab. "A lab?" Is that what she said? That's what he thought he heard, but he couldn't be sure, he was elsewhere, on a hotel bed between two .... "I want to go into that room, room #345 with a man and because we've been taking this course together, I'd like to go in there with you." When she looks at him, her eyes are round in innocence, their isn't a hint of excitement. But Tom couldn't see this, perhaps because his head bobbed so happily in agreement. But he'd have to wait, for wasn't it his bright idea to spend the next meeting working on his To Do list, and wasn't it his idea that they wait for a week before working on hers? Reader, if you were told to join a mother and daughter at their table in that restaurant you would have headed straight for the table under the Manet Ocean, there could be no doubt, Ag's mother was just an older version of the daughter, say about 25 years older, or that's how it appeared. It was a great meal, Gail could see the two were very much alike and cared for each other. And even though they appeared somewhat remote, she wished she'd had as good a relationship with her own mother, well not this good for when Ags left for the washroom it cued Gail's role. They had rehearsed it, of course, and Ags had made many changes to the lines, some so subtle that Gail couldn't see the nuance so in fact she was a bit lost, lost in the very idea, but lost in the script, too, so she simply said, "Ags thinks you may be interested in her, in a more complex way, the way she's interested in you." Sally, Ag's mother, remained quiet, she sat back in her chair and looked into the innocent eyes across from her, then down at the table, staring at a plate with the remains of a bit of pasta. She continued to stair where the plate had been even after it had been taken away, even after her daughter had rejoined the table. Ags said, "I couldn't ask you myself. If I was wrong, my embarrassment would have been just too awful, but I wanted you to know how I feel." With those words, Gail left the table, as Ags had said she must, but the mother, Sally, hadn't spoken so Gail had no idea how this awful problem was going to be resolved, but almost anyone else would have known, anyone else would have seen the chest shudder and would have known that confrontations like this are never resolved by words. So join me now as we take the elevator to the 12th floor. They are standing there, mother and daughter, together, soundless, as they've been since Gail left and they turn left from the elevator and walk down the hall, the mother slightly in front and she places the card in the lock, the wrong side up, the wrong end first and Ags takes it, takes it from her mother's steady hand and when the lock clicks she push open the door and follows her mother inside. Psych Major You knew exactly what you were doing, didn't you? You knew what you wanted and you knew from the beginning how it was going to be. I saw the look, I felt your eyes, even as you smiled with beguiling wit and alluring chivalry. You welcomed me back home after my second year at college and marveled at how I had grown, how much of a woman I had become, how mature, how easily mistaken for some cosmopolitan runway model or some professional volleyball player, with my long blond hair and clear blue eyes. You told me how much you missed me. You told me how amazed you were at how I had truly filled out and fully blossomed as a sophisticated college student on my way to possible med school. I had asked where mom was, but you said she was home getting the place ready for my arrival. Mom had gotten my bedroom ready and had invited just a few friends to visit on my homecoming. I was excited to see family and friends and I longed for the sweet smell of Mom's cooking. And you were so right. Despite my jetlag from my four hour flight, I was re-energized to visit with long lost friends and cousins. My face even hurt from smiling so often, being the homecoming heroine just back for a week-long visit from the big university out east. "Carly, come here" and "Carly look at this!" and "Isn't my Carly so pretty?" was what I heard all night long. I smiled and danced and ate my fill and I noticed your eyes. Always your eyes were on me, watching, enjoying, drinking in the good nature of it all. I smiled back at you, often, feeling loved and welcomed. Mom too was a gracious hostess, showing me off as her prize pony and making sure I sat and spoke to Aunt Sara or Uncle Mike or Nana Beth. Mom carted me around like I was her beauty pageant doll and she poked and preened at me, also commenting on how much I had grown into a beautiful young lady. I did take small note of her distance from my father throughout the night. They seemed polite, but they were certainly distant. In time, the festivities came to an end, nearly midnight and all the drunk relatives and drunker friends waving off and heading to their homes. Every one of them made me swear to spend a day or two to hang out or go do this or go see this movie or go shopping. I promised all of them because I could scarcely deny their wishes. I had been gone for almost two years now. Mom had retired after cleaning up the kitchen, a bit tipsy herself, but happy and fulfilled. She kissed me goodnight and retreated to the master bedroom. My room, as it turned out, looked exactly as I had left it. Posters of the Backstreet Boys and Brittney Spears still lined the walls. Pink frills and lace and stuffed animals adorned every corner and floor space. It made me smile to look upon old friends and the comfort of home. Always home. Warm and welcoming and relaxing. None of the pressures of exams and readings and deadlines and projects. Home. Where I was welcomed with open arms with love and admiration. I never had to prove myself. I was simply loved. About an hour later, sitting up in bed and reading the latest text on psychotherapy, I barely heard the soft knock on my door. "Come in," I said quietly. "It's open." And then you popped your head in, almost sheepishly, slightly red-faced. Had you had too much to drink also? You smiled and cleared your throat, asked if I was feeling jet-lagged or jittery from the flight. Asked if I had too much caffeine and couldn't sleep. Asked if I was too wired from the party. I smiled warmly and nodded. "Yes, I'm still in a different time zone, remember?" When I invited you in, you were almost too shy, like a little schoolboy trying to ask out his first girlfriend on a date. You came in and I noticed you closed the door behind you. You pulled my desk chair and sat near me. "What're you reading, hon?" I could see you rubbing your hands together, perhaps drying them off, perhaps a bit nervous. About what? I wondered. I shrugged. "Just the latest textbook for school. I know I have a week off, but I still have a lot of reading to do during this break." Then I saw the look in your eyes, the sadness, the longing. You seemed to have a lot on your mind. You seemed as if you had something to tell me. "What is it, dad? What's wrong? I noticed you seemed distant and distracted all night." You shrugged and looked down at your hands, now folded over your lap. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. Then you shrugged again. Your eyes slowly met mine and I could see pools of tears emerging, threatening to burst at a moment's notice. "It's...well...your mom. It's just that...well...we haven't...oh Carly, I don't know how to say this to you..." Your words trailed off and I was suddenly pained to see you so sad. I reached out my hand and placed it on yours. "What is it, dad? You can tell me. I did notice the two of you seemed so distant, so apart tonight. I never really saw you two talking or near each other at all. What's wrong?" And then, you said it. Looking down at your hands, now gently covered by my own, through tear-filled eyes, you recounted how you knew that mom was cheating. Mom had been with other men and you knew about it. You discovered her infidelities, but had yet to confront her on them. You spoke about how you felt that mom was cheating on you because she thought you weren't man enough or strong enough to keep her satisfied or loved or whatever it was that was missing in your marriage. You were so lost and confused and scared and...lonely. I sat for a very long time listening to your story. My heart ached and my heart broke, for you and for mom. For the both of you. "If you think she doesn't value you or your relationship, why haven't you discussed this? Why not confront her with the truth? Why not fight for her?" "Carly, I've tried," you said. "I've tried to hint at what I suspected, but she seems to just laugh it all off. She thinks it makes me even weaker to express my feelings and emotions to her. She laughs at me, like I'm some big dope—a clown for her amusement." I couldn't believe your words, yet here you were now, crying your eyes out. Mom was cheating on my dad. Mom and dad loved each other, right? They were supposed to be together forever. That's how the story ends. That's what I thought; that's what I wanted. My brain was clipping away at a mile a minute, thinking of a way to resolve this complex problem. And didn't I deal with this nearly every day? Couples therapy. Psychology. This was my forte. I took in a long, deep breath and let out a sigh. Looking at you seriously and determinedly, I said, "Then have you tried to make her jealous? Have you tried to flirt with other women to see if she would react differently?" You shrugged, confused, disturbed. "Be with other women? I couldn't ever imagine that. Your mom's the only one I love and want to be with." "But she doesn't value you like you do her. She doesn't see you as a handsome, sexual being. She doesn't value who you are and she takes you for granted." You chewed on what I said for a very long time as your eyes blinked back the tears and you seemed to sit up a little. I could see the wheels turning in your head and at last, you said, "But...if I do...who would...who would go along with the charade?" I smiled, feeling better that I had convinced you of how to approach this dilemma. And then I named off a few women in the neighborhood, all of which I knew would take my father in if given the chance. And through them all, you found fault. You found a way to negate my suggestions. I offered several women at work who I also knew admired my father. And still you shook your head and refused. "They would not be able to keep a secret and that would be dangerous for me at work," you reasoned. All too true, I realized. There was no way to keep his reputation intact if he attempted an affair at work. I sighed again, not knowing where to go from here. "It's pointless," you said hopelessly. "Mom wins and I...well...I lose her to other men. No one you mentioned would work out because someone would find out and more people would get hurt. I couldn't trust them to keep things quiet and...well...no trust, no love. Mom is the only one I can trust—at least, I thought...." You buried your face in your hands and my heart reached out to you. My hands reached out to you, to hold you, to stop your shaking and heaving. We held each other close as you wept quietly on my shoulder. I stroked your hair and wiped your eyes as you slowly finished crying. And, tear-stained face and lips parted, I looked deeply into your eyes as you did mine. "Maybe..." I whispered. "Maybe you shouldn't...go elsewhere for love. Maybe..." Your eyes searched mine as your brain raced through the possibilities of what I was saying, what I was suggesting. Actually have an affair, not with a stranger or a friend or a coworker. An affair with someone closer. Closer to home. Someone in your own backyard. Someone...in your own...daughter's bedroom! You licked your lips and I could hear your ragged breath, your eyes confused, yet, slowly coming to realization. "But..." I nodded slowly, resigned to what I was about to say, what I had to say. "Dad, I love you and I love mom and I don't want to lose both of you. I don't want you to split up. If this is the only way to get her jealous and to get her to value you as she should, then I am happy to help you both. I want to see you both survive and get through this." "But..." "Dad, it's okay. You're not forcing me. I'm not under aged. I'm doing this willingly." You shook your head, wordless, as you held my hand and helped me out of my bed. We stood, staring into each other's eyes, searching, looking for the sanity out of this situation. I watched as you swallowed once, taking in my body from head to toe, noticing my sheer pink nightgown as you beheld me as a man beholds a goddess. So reverent, so admiring. I blushed at your attention and soon we were floating towards each other in a loving embrace. I don't know, to this day, whether it was the alcohol. I don't know if it was preconceived, but I do know that your desire for me was shockingly evident as your hardness poked into my belly as you held me close. "Dad, we...need each other. We have to do this to save your marriage. We have to..." And then you were crushing me with your lips, pressing hard and passionately. I could smell the alcohol in your breath as your tongue snaked into my mouth with forceful abandon. And your hands were all over my body, kneading my back with the ardor of a lover. You moaned allowed as I tried to press you away. It dawned on me that your desire was not necessarily what I had intended, nor invited. It dawned on me then that your lust had been given free reign with my admission to start an 'affair'. But this is not what I meant. This is not what I meant at all. "No...Dad..." I said brokenly, trying to push you off of me as your kisses continued on my face and neck. "I...we..." You had worked one strap of my nightie off and had revealed one breast to the cold night. As your hungry lips devoured my flesh, I gasped out and held your head, still trying to push you off. "Dad...wait..." And then you seemed to come up for air, your eyes wild, searching mine. You looked wild, like a man possessed by animal lust. Your eyes searched mine for an answer. I shook my head. "Dad...I meant we should..." We should what? I thought frantically. What had I suggested earlier? Did I say we should...consummate our love affair with actual...sex? Did I suggest we go through with the physical aspect of our alleged affair? I only wanted my mom to find out that Dad was cheating on her. Maybe she would become jealous. Maybe she would see your true value. Maybe she would take you back. But this? Not this. Not sex. Not with my own father! And still, your eyes looked into mine with longing and lust and desire. You wanted me. You wanted me as no father should want their own daughter. You wanted me as a real lover. Sex! Sinful sex. Taboo. Incest. I shook my head slowly and I could see your eyes looking dejected. You had been rejected yet again! You had been turned away and betrayed by yet another woman you loved and trusted! Again. And I could see the look of utter sadness and despair. I could see that I had broken your heart, your dreams, your hopes. I was dumbfounded, lost between right and wrong. How could we? How could we do this? Incest! "But...Dad...we..." Now it was my turn to cry, to shed tears for the tragedy of it all. Now it was my turn to cry and be held by someone strong. Someone stronger than me. My dad. The one who had protected me all my life. And here we were, sad, tragic, in despair. "Sshhh...honey, it's all right," you whispered into my hair. "Everything will be all right. We were...drunk..too much to drink. It was the wine that made us...well...lose control." You held me close and comforted me. You had come into my bedroom seeking answers, seeking comfort, and now it was I who needed it. Needed it. Your hardness did not subside. Your lust did not abate, despite my denial of you. Your desire for me did not diminish as you held me close and stroked my hair and face, whispering soft words of encouragement, apology, and sorrow. We were doomed. And as I pulled back to look once more into your eyes and opened my mouth to speak, you touched my lips with yours tenderly this time. I did return the kiss, I know. I did return the love and anguish to you, joining you in your cursed fate. Our kiss lingered for an eternity and I felt your hands roaming my back once more, kneading my tired muscles, massaging the ache out of me. "Oh baby," you whispered harshly. "God...I need you..." My eyes were sad and slowly my head shook with confusion. "But...we...can't..." I only thought to write letters, discovered emails, anything that would get mom jealous. I only meant to 'play' at an affair. Not this! Not for real. Not with you, my own flesh and blood. Born of your loins. A product of your love with mom. "Please, baby...we...we both need this. I can feel your love for me. I won't hurt you. This is for us, for me, to save my marriage. This is right." You spoke hypnotically and slowly nudged me backwards until the backs of my knees touched the edge of my bed. And then I was sitting and you were urging me to lay down. My head shook and I protested, but you were insistent. "Daddy...no...we...can't..." You tore your shirt off and had your pants off in a moment's breath and as I pressed my hands to your chest, you moved over me, kissing my neck and face, and chest. Again, you lifted my nightie, again freeing my breasts to the night air. I lay my head back as your watery mouth devoured first one and then the other and I groaned with need. But still I knew this was wrong. "Daddy...we...this is wrong...this is...incest." "Ssshhh, baby...we need this. We both need this. I need you. You were right. I need a lover to make her jealous. I can't trust anyone else. Only you. Only you." I could hear the tearing of my panties as you tossed them onto my bedroom floor and I was powerless now to stop your onslaught, powerless to deny your lust, your need. "But...we...what about mom?" "She won't hear us, Carly. She's asleep. Drunk. She won't ever know. Oh God, I want you so much. You're so beautiful." Your words were magical to me. I relished at your admiration and love. I watched as you devoured my body with your eyes and knew that I loved you deeply. You guided your throbbing cock to my now wet orifice and as the head slowly penetrated me, I knew it was the point of no return. Your eyes stared down at me as I looked up at you with a mixture of sadness, fear, love...and...lust. I too longed to be fulfilled. To be filled. I too needed this from long absent days away. I too missed your touch, your love, your desire. And then, you were all the way home, filling me like no other man has ever done. My back arched and my head tilted back. My eyes rolled back into my head as I felt you completely buried within me! Your fatherly cock inside of my pussy. Taboo. Shocking. Forbidden. Delicious. You held within me, looking down at me, seeing the amazement in your eyes. You were finally and fully inside and you beheld me with such reverence and longing. And then you said it. You said the words I knew I would dread. You said it loudly for both of us to hear, to know. "Oh Carly...oh my God...when I saw you at the airport today, I knew. I knew. You were so beautiful and sexy and...I knew I had to have you. I knew I had to fuck you." My brows furrowed in drunken confusion. If you had known...then...? But my thoughts of preconceived notions and forbidden desires were simply wiped away by your motions. You thrust into me again and again as slowly, my body betrayed me. My legs splayed out wider to allow your entry. Then my knees curled up and my legs crossed around you to urge you further. You began to fuck me in earnest and I returned your thrusts with wanton lust. You were wonderful, the perfect man, the perfect lover. You took your time, yet you were an animal. You gyrated your hips and hit every secret spot inside of me, causing me to clench and buck with every sinful thrust of your hips. And when you began to speed up, when your thrusts became violent and insistent, I knew you were close to completing this forbidden act of fatherly love. I knew that you were close to the edge of madness and insanity. And I was so close to that edge with you. And then reason dawned in, albeit late and ineffectual. We had no protection! We had no means to deny a possible...pregnancy! "Daddy! Wait," I panted. "Stop...oh God...we...don't have any protection...pull out. Oh God, pull out. I'm not on the pill and you're not...wearing anything!" "Oh God, baby! I'm so close! I have to cum!" you groaned, forcing my legs apart and continuing your savage invasion. Your thrusts seemed to go in faster and stronger. "Oh God, no! I could get...pregnant! Please...please...pull out!" And then you were roaring now, groaning out all of your lust and love for me as you emptied your molten seed inside of my fertile womb. You, the father, shooting your liquid fire, your cum, deep inside your own daughter's pussy. That which created me is recreating itself inside of me, scorching my insides with its demon seed. I bucked and thrashed, muffling my own cries of passionate release even as I knew the evil of our deed. It could not be. It should not be. Yet the fires of hell could not deny the heavenly pleasure I was receiving. We were panting now, sweating from our forbidden passion, and you slumped over me. "Oh God, baby..oh Carly," you whispered into my hair. You kissed my tear-soaked face tenderly now, a caring and loving father once more. "Oh Daddy..." I whispered. Thefre were truly no more words to say. We had done it. We had consummated our love and lust. What I had thought would be a simple play—an act—to get my mother to some sort of jealous realization, had twisted and become our own incestuous act of lust and desire. We were damned. We were lost. You kissed me tenderly once more and got up, my drenched pussy releasing your half-hardened cock now. I could feel a delicious ache and longing for your monster beast and it sickened me. But I could not deny my own desires. "What do we...?" I asked weakly. "Sshh," you said, putting fingers to my swollen lips. "We can talk in the morning. I have to get back in case mom wakes up. We can talk in the morning." Slowly, silently, you retreated out of my bedroom as I pulled the covers over me. Before I drifted into troubled sleep, I kept wondering what the next few days would bring. Is this what psychotherapists do? Is this how they cure their patients? Perhaps I would need my own therapist before this week comes to an end... Psych Rotation As a future surgeon I wasn't terribly excited about starting my psychiatry rotation. Talking to crazies and listening to depressed patients go on about their feelings wasn't my idea of fun. It turned out, however, to be much more interesting than I thought. The first day of the rotation I arrived to meet the other two students who I'd be working with for the next six weeks. Chrissy was a cute, curvaceous spitfire with piercing blue eyes and a quick whit. I had a feeling we'd get along. The other student, John, was already somewhat familiar to me. He was in my med school class which means I had seen him around during lecture for the first two years of school. Since our class was so big though, we never really got to know each other. I guess you could say he was an average looking guy; about six foot tall, short brown hair, medium build with broad shoulders. He was a friendly guy with an easy smile and a bit of mischief behind his eyes. As the first week passed, Chrissy, John and I got to know each other better. We were on the consult service which wasn't very busy so we had a ton of time to sit in our workroom and hang out. Chrissy and I bonded over shoes and playfully making fun of John. He always took it really well and, in fact, seemed to enjoy it for the most part. Our group dynamic formed around this and we really hit our stride in the second week. We started getting more daring and intimate with our conversations. Sex came up frequently and was definitely a favorite topic. I couldn't help but notice that John spent the better portion of our conversations paying a bit more attention to me than Chrissy. I think Chrissy noticed it too. As the second week neared its end Chrissy suggested we all go out and get a drink together that weekend. We readily agreed and met up at a local bar that Friday after work. We started off with our usual topic of conversation, picking on John. We ran through his wardrobe, explaining to him exactly what he needed to change. More blues to bring out his eyes, a pair of nice dress shoes, and a replacement belt for his badly worn favorite. The drinks kept coming and our tongues began to loosen a bit more. A couple rounds later and we couldn't help but veer back to the topic of sex. We started off talking about physical traits we were attracted to. I mentioned how I was a sucker for a five-o'clock shadow, knowing full well that it would peak John's interest as he sports one daily. He gave me an understanding grin. "You like this?" he said as he ran his hand across his jaw line. "I think it suits you. Much better than the beard you showcased back in our lecture days." "I'll be sure to keep it then." Sitting next to us, Chrissy had been shrewdly watching our interaction. There's no doubt she noticed the steady eye contact we were keeping and she was probably sharp enough to pick up on the subtle flush that had come over me. She pushed the conversation onward, commenting that she too was a big fan of the five-o'clock shadow. It didn't get the effect she was hoping for because John chose that moment to comment about how hot the girl was at the table next to us. The conversation went on kind of like that for the next few minutes until we found ourselves somehow talking about vibrators. This really piqued John's curiosity. He squirmed a little in his chair as I described how my recent acquisition had changed my sex life. Chrissy countered, insisting that hers was better so we listed off the pros and cons of each. I had to admit hers sounded nice. As we were talking John grabbed a piece of paper from his bag and began to take notes. When he finished taking down the names and styles of each of our vibrators he made a joke about how he was vastly superior to any vibrator when it came to pleasing a woman. Of course Chrissy and I couldn't let this go so we asked him to be more specific. Did he have a vibrating tongue or something? To my surprise, rather than laughing off my jibe he responded by sketching out the female form on his note paper while explaining how he brings a woman to climax. "I start off far from the clit. You have to build up to it." His pen pointed to the drawing's thighs. "I use a gentle blowing technique along the inside of the legs to get things warmed up. Then, when she's ready, I move up to the labia and make long upward and downward stokes." My legs involuntarily opened a little wider as I felt blood rushing to the sites John was describing. The thought of his full lips lightly blowing warm air up my thighs was intoxicating. I've always had a weak spot for head and here was a guy illustrating exactly how to do it right. "So what do you do when you finally go for the target?" I asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. I was trying to act like a smartass so Chrissy wouldn't know what was running through my head. John ran his pen up and down the small circle that was meant to depict the clitoris. He did so in small rapids bursts to indicate his rhythm. I grabbed his pen. "I prefer this." I made small tight circles slowly around the clit until there was a dark ring of ink saturating the paper. John looked at the paper seriously for a few seconds then quietly folded the paper in two and slid it in his pocket. Chrissy made a joke about it but I excused myself from the table and headed for the restroom. I was so hot from our interaction I needed to get away before I made a complete fool of myself by attacking him right there in the bar. I took a few minutes, splashed water on my face to cool down, and paced back and forth in the cramped bathroom. What was wrong with me? Just a couple weeks ago John was some average-looking guy that I had passed in the halls without notice a hundred times. Now I saw his lips and wondered what they'd be like pressed against mine, or even better, against my legs, my breasts, my clit. As I sat back down at the table Chrissy squinted her eyes at me. She was very good at communicating with her eyes and this time they said, "What the hell was that?" I shrugged it off, leaving her silently seething. It was obvious that Chrissy liked John too but since she was the single one and I was not, he should have been hers according to girl code. *** A couple more weeks went by and John, Chrissy, and I found ourselves now on the locked psychiatry unit for the acutely and dangerously insane. We spent most of our time interviewing patients in a closet-sized room, then writing up our notes in an only slightly bigger work room. The intimacy of our enclosure wasn't lost on me and it made it difficult to stay focused on my work. Since the night in the bar, my flirtations with John grew more blatant and frequent. John had this way of making eye contact that he held for an awkwardly long time. Most people glanced away after a couple seconds so things wouldn't get weird. I had taken it as a personal challenge when I first met him to hold it as long as he did, but as we got closer it became a flirtation of its own. We were each willing the other to admit our not-so-secret desires. It was sexy, exciting, and playful at the same time. Not to mention dangerous, as Chrissy was quick to call us out on it in front of anyone who might be nearby. One morning in the interview room I found myself sitting across from John. Our attending, a resident, Chrissy, and a patient were also in the tiny room and we were supposed to be listening to the interview. My concentration had been waning all week though, and I couldn't keep from drifting off into daydreams. A quick glance at John revealed that he was staring at my stiletto heels. I was wearing a knee length black wrap dress that day with fire-engine-red four inch heels that he had commented on earlier in our rotation together. Under the dress was a black lacey garter holding up sheer nude stockings. I used the fact that psychiatry required so little physical work as an excuse to dress up on a daily basis. I always made sure to look professional but I liked to add a little extra sex appeal underneath for my own satisfaction. Besides the garter and stockings I had a tiny black g-string and a sleek matching bra that had a bad habit of peaking out from under my dress when I bent forward. I glanced around the room, making sure that everyone else was paying attention to the patient as he spoke excitedly about how his cat had caused all his problems. When I was satisfied that my display would be for John's eyes only, I casually uncrossed my legs letting the slit of my wrap dress ride up my thigh exposing the strap of my garter belt. As quickly as it had happened, I re-crossed my legs in the opposite direction and readjusted my dress. Out of my peripheral vision I could tell that my maneuvers weren't lost on him. His head shot up my legs, then to my face. He was checking to see if I had caught his voyeurism and once satisfied that I had been paying attention to the patient he let his eyes wander back down my figure. My bit of exhibitionism had worked and my pay off was the thrill of knowing I could probably make him hard anytime I wanted. I caught his eye and smiled delicately. He smiled back and held my gaze while the sound of the patient's voice drifted off in my mind. A daydream had taken over again and I found myself alone in the room with John standing across from me with the same knowing smile he had flashed me at the bar. He stepped toward me and softly pressed his body to mine, backing me against the cement wall. With one hand steadying myself on the wall and the other holding on to his muscular arm I let myself melt into his body. Never breaking his gaze he ran his left hand down the small of my back. It slowly traced over the curve of my ass. As he continued down he lifted my leg up allowing the slit of my dress to widen, exposing the entirety of my stocking-clad thigh. He let his hand roam all the way to my knee before reversing direction, traveling back down to my ass, this time below the thin fabric of my dress. My heart was beating wildly as he outlined the rim of my stocking. The anticipation of his next move made me lightheaded and I held my breath. I pleaded with my eyes for him to continue with his exploration. I wanted him to rip open my dress and ravage me up against the wall. A cough by the resident in the room brought me reluctantly back into reality. John was staring at me with a devilish grin on his face letting me know he had caught me daydreaming. The interview was coming to a close. I'd have some time to compose myself at lunch before coming back to write my notes for the day. It turned out that I had miscalculated how much time alone I would need to truly regain composure. I had lunch with John and Chrissy as usual then took a short lap around the hospital to clear my head. Images from my daydream kept popping up like the intrusive memories of a PTSD patient. I didn't have enough time to refocus before I had to be back to the workroom to write my notes. I had taken a new patient that day which made the note more complex than usual and the added distraction of constantly picturing John's strong hand running up my thigh resulted in an extremely poor quality note. My frustrations started getting the best of me. This was fun initially but I was actually starting to consider cheating on my boyfriend and I wasn't even able to collect my thoughts enough to do my job! The rest of the day I was sullen and quiet, trying to distance myself from my guilt and from John. The next morning when I still hadn't cheered up John approached me privately to see what was wrong. He was visibly concerned and wanted to know if he had said or done something wrong. I assured him he hadn't and tried to get back to work but he persisted. Was it something at the hospital that was making me sad? My resigned nod prompted an onslaught of additional questions. Was it Dr. S? Was it the resident? Was it Chrissy? Was I sure it wasn't him? I stopped answering at this last one. I couldn't bring myself to let him know that he was the nidus for my current internal struggle. He tried to cheer me up all that day. He smiled playfully at me, told jokes to try and make me laugh, offered to take on extra work so I wouldn't have to. By the end of the day I did feel better but I hadn't shed my attraction for him as I had intended. Instead I just resolved to be the same cheery person I had entered the rotation as. There were only a few days left and I didn't need to bring everyone else down with me. Anyway, it was really unlikely that I'd sleep with John before the end of the rotation and once it was done I'd probably never see him again. With that rationalization in mind, I decided it was safe to make the most of the next few days with John and really have some fun. *** The next day I showed up at work in a tight high-waisted black pencil skirt that highlighted my petite waist line. Rather than nude stockings I had chosen to go with black, back-seamed ones to give the look a more retro feel. The effect wasn't lost on the men of the ward as I received several compliments that day from patients and staff alike. When I saw how some of the female workers shots looks up and down my body then smiled weakly with poorly concealed malice, I knew I looked good. As I walked in the workroom I smiled as all eyes turned toward me. Chrissy kept her mouth shut but I knew she was cursing how good I looked. John's eyes ran from my ankle strapped stilettos up my legs. I took the opportunity to bend over at the waist to grab the notebook out of my bag I had just tossed on the floor. I knew from our previous conversations that John was more of a "boob guy" than an "ass man" but my ass looked GOOD and I was pretty sure he'd appreciate it. My B-cup breasts weren't my crowning achievement but they fit my small frame well and looked nice and perky under my crisp white button down shirt. All that day I flirted like crazy with John. I made sure to smile often, get close whenever possible, and even rub my leg up against his when we sat near each other. He was getting bolder too. He made more flirtatious glances at me in front of Chrissy, asked for favors that required me to touch him like scratching his back, and walked so close to me when we went places that we were touching the majority of the time. As we sat in our workroom writing our notes for the day I was pleased this time to drift off into another daydream. This time I was sitting up on the workroom desk while John stood opposite me. "You need to get a new belt." John looked down at his cracked belt then back up at me making the same intense eye contact I had come to crave. He walked slowly toward me. When he came within reach I stretched out and grabbed his belt pulling him in between my now widely spread legs. Without looking down I began unbuckling it. "Yeah, this thing has definitely got to go." I slid the belt out from his slacks. "You should probably get a new shirt too." "You think so, huh?" His fingers slipped up to the top of his shirt and he began to unbutton it as he leaned in closer. "What about my pants?" "Hmm, I like the pants. Are they new?" "No, I've had these for a while." He was down to his last button. I ran my hands down his chest, pausing for a second at the trail of hair leading from his belly button down into the confines of his pants. When I was done admiring I removed the shirt revealing a well defined chest and nicely built arms. "Well, if they're old you may as well scrap them and start fresh," I purred as I slid the zipper down. Underneath I was pleased to see he was wearing a blue pair of boxer briefs which sent a chill down my spine. From the outline of them I could tell he was well endowed and a second chill ran over me followed by a wave of heat. "Seems kind of unfair that I'm the only one in need of some wardrobe attention," he whispered in my ear. "I'm in the market for a new bra. The one I have on now is a bit small." Without flinching he started unbuttoning my shirt, going faster than he had with his own. His breath was getting more rapid and shallow, betraying his desire. Once finished with his task he carefully peeled my shirt down around my shoulders exposing the rounded tops of my breasts. He leaned down, kissing my collar bone on the right, then running his tongue along it toward the left. As he passed midline his tongue retreated back between his lips and he drove his mouth to the sensitive part of my neck just above the collar bone making me gasp. He continued the attention to my neck as his hands removed the rest of my shirt. My hands had been busy as well. They found their way into the front of John's unzipped pants to the prize within. I lightly brushed my fingertips along his length prompting him to kiss my neck deeper. My left hand went around to his ass pulling him closer as I used my right palm to gauge his girth. My estimates told me I would certainly not be disappointed. At this point John couldn't resist the call of my tits begging to be released. He grabbed them firmly, filling both hands. A deep swelling of lust rose in me and a moan escaped my lips. Deftly he reached behind me and in one move my bra was unhooked and falling off. It was casually tossed aside and John took a moment to admire the view. A second later though he was down running his tongue along the underside of each breast in turn. The man was in a hurry but he knew what he was doing. My nipples stood at attention waiting impatiently for their turn. After paying proper respect to the periphery, John began to hone in on the nipples. He skated his tongue around the receptive edges of my areola causing me to catch my breath. He flicked his tongue over the nipples and alternated with gentle sucking. To my surprise a stream of cool air came next, tightening the skin over my nipples to even greater extremes. I was beyond horny now. The dampness that had formed in my panties early on had developed into a small river of lubrication. The sweet smell emanating from my crotch filled the room adding to the intoxication of the moment. I needed something inside me. My pussy ached to be filled. Reaching into the front of John's boxer briefs I pulled out his large member. It pulsed in my hand, swelling to even greater proportions as I drew it toward my wanting pussy. "Fuck me," I whispered. Then louder, "Fuck me, fuck me, oh God, I need you to fuck me." John reached down to yank my drenched panties from my legs. He spread my legs wide and in one swift motion pushed his entire length into me until I could feel it stretching the back wall of my pussy. I couldn't help but let out a pleasured groan as shock waves traveled up by body. He started slowly, making long in-strokes with faster out-strokes. "Is this what you wanted?" he asked tauntingly. "Or do you want me to really fuck you?" "Oooo, please fuck me harder... please," I whimpered. That was all John needed to hear before pounding his cock firmly in and out of my wanting pussy. I leaned back on the desk grabbing my tits and lightly twisting the nipples between my fingers. John pumped harder still as he watched with eyes locked on my pert little mounds. "That's right, play with your tits for me." His knowing smirk was back. He recognized how close to orgasm I was and he was enjoying the power he had to make me scream with ecstasy. With higher and higher pitch I couldn't help but let out a series of short staccato cries, "Ah, ah, ah," until they were nothing more than a squeak. The build of my impending orgasm was almost more powerful than I could handle. That's when John changed the angle of his thrusts to target my now highly sensitized g-spot. In seconds the crash of the best orgasm of my life hit me. The room blacked out for an instant as my body began convulsing in wave after wave of pleasure. My pussy contracted around the head of John's cock urging him to continue his onslaught. He gradually slowed his pace and leaned forward to kiss the beads of sweat that had collected across my chest. Psych Rotation He was obviously pleased with his work as he smiled at my exhausted, panting body. "I think I might wear this same outfit tomorrow," he teased. *** "What are you smiling about?" John asked, bringing me back to reality. "Glad that this is our second to last day?" "Something like that. Hey, you want to get together tonight and study?" "Yeah," John grinned, "we should definitely study." Psych "Definitely." Gail said quietly. "Mind telling me what's going on here?" Chloe suddenly deflated. "It was so weird, G. I was talking about the possibility of maybe someday in the distant future MAYBE dating again and she got kind of...squirrelly... I mean, this is someone who heard the intense, gory details of my accident without batting an eyelid; who has helped me put together my life; who together with you and mom I credit with saving my life, and she can't handle the thought of a bit of girl on girl action?" "Not possible," said Gail. "That can't be right. I know Eva sees people from all sexual orientations or I would never have referred you to her. She's the least judgmental person I have ever met. Something else must be going on." "Well, why don't you tell me, then? Because from where I was sitting, she looked really uncomfortable. I want you to tell me about her. And I'm sick and tired of all your 'we're professionals' bullshit excuses. I want to know who I've been trusting my life to the past eight months." "Chlo..." Gail began. "NO! Tell me!" "Chlo, the only thing I'm willing to tell you about her is what is on public record. Her husband was hijacked eight years ago. He was shot and left to die on the side of the road. She was pregnant with their first child -- she lost the baby through the trauma. She dedicated her life to helping people overcome traumatic bereavement, because she said she didn't receive the help she needed at the time. She wrote a book about it which tells a bit about what happened to her, but mainly deals with how to get over traumatic bereavement." Gail stopped to take a breath. "Jesus..." muttered Chloe. "That's...that's..." "Yes." "But why does she still wear the ring? She didn't get married again, did she?" "No. I don't think she's ever met anyone who could measure up to David. They met at university, fell head over heels in love, got married the year they finished varsity and were together until he was murdered." Chloe felt thoroughly deflated. A bit of fire crept back into her eyes and she said: "That still doesn't explain why she had such a weird reaction to what I said," Chloe muttered, somewhat churlishly. "Think about it, Chlo..." Gail said with an inscrutable expression on her face. "I've thought about nothing else since it happened!" Gail sighed. "Chlo, Paula died a year ago and you've given so much to putting your life back together that you're thinking about the future with the possibility -- even if it's a distant maybe -- of sharing your life with someone again." "And?" "And David died eight years ago." "Yes?" "Geez, Chlo! Do I have to spell it out? She still wears her wedding ring for Christ's sake!" "Aaaah..." Chloe digested this for a while. "So, she hasn't been able to take that next step or hasn't wanted to and I'm thinking about it. So, you know this for a fact?" asked Chloe. "No, I don't. I'm trying to analyse why she would have that reaction to what you said. I KNOW Eva is no homophobe, so it must be something else and that option is a logical one to me. Why are you making such a big deal of it anyway? I mean, I know she means a lot to you and you think she walks on water as a therapist, but that was a little extreme!" Gail said, looking her friend straight in the eye. "Ah, well...I mean...I'm baring my soul to this woman once a week...I mean...so you know..." Chloe stuttered. "Chlo?" Gail said as Chloe tried to look everywhere but at her. "Chlo, look at me!" Chloe eventually looked at her, blushing a deep red. "Jesus, Chlo! I know you said you had the hots for her, but what is this?" Chloe looked up at her helplessly. "It kind of snuck up on me, G. One day I was perving her boobs and her bewildering ass and the next I would have pulled my own teeth out one by one just to hear her laugh and be the one making her laugh. Seriously, I am a cliché, aren't I? How many people do you know who fall for their therapists?" "A few," Gail admitted, "But Chlo, I know you and you don't fall lightly. Is this a crush, do you think? Or what is it?" Gail looked so worried about her that Chloe felt a little teary. "Honestly? I don't know. I never thought I would ever feel like this again. I was just trying to enjoy the fact that I felt hopelessly attracted to her when I realized that it felt like much more. And it fits into what you were telling me about her. I feel like I connect with her -- maybe it's because of what we've both been through, but it feels so very deep, G. I just know that if we had met under other circumstances that we would have hit it off..." Gail looked at her wistfully. "That's sometimes the hardest thing about doing this work, Chlo. I meet so many amazing people who I really like and connect with, but they need a therapist, not another friend. I think it's something all therapists struggle with. All the ones I know, anyhow!" "So are you saying we can't even be friends?" Chloe asked with a slight catch in her voice. "I'm saying this is a conversation you need to be having with Eva, not me!" Gail said firmly. "General rule of thumb is no, we can't be friends with clients. If I happen to meet someone years down the line in a social setting and hit it off may be that would be OK, but you can't mix therapy and friendship. Doesn't work, Chlo." **** The next time Eva saw Chloe she seemed a little different and a bit sad. "So..." she said, "something happen I should know about?" "I was chatting to Gail and happened to mention that I thought if you and I had met under different circumstances that we could have been friends." Chloe said in a subdued voice. Eva looked at her searchingly. "That makes you sad?" "She also said that therapists can't be friends with their clients..." To Chloe's horror she felt her lip wobble and tears spring to her eyes. "Oh Chloe..." Eva's voice trailed off. "Look, it's not totally unheard of, but some time usually passes in-between. Why does that upset you so much?" With disarming honesty, Chloe looked at Eva from under lowered lashes and blurted: "Because I just like you so much!" This time there was no doubt in Chloe's mind that Eva blushed -- and deeply. Then she looked down and inspected her nails trying to compose herself. "There!" Chloe said, "What the hell is that about! Is the thought of me liking you or your being seen in public with me so abhorrent to you?" "No, Chloe, it's not." Eva said quietly. "Look, I know therapists are supposed to have all the answers, but we don't. I don't. I think you are an amazing person and no, I would have no problem being seen in public with you. This is the one part of being a therapist I struggle with -- that's why I reacted the way I did." It was a white lie but it seemed to work. Chloe was deeply embarrassed at putting Eva on the spot so badly and said so. They spoke about it some more, then the session came to an end. For the first time, Chloe stood up first and put herself between the door and Eva. "I can't go unless I know you forgive me," she said impishly. Eva laughed. "I forgive you." With that, Chloe impulsively wrapped her arms around Eva's torso and pulled her into a tight hug. "Thank you," she said, her voice breaking slightly, "for everything. I don't know what I would have done without you. I don't know where I would be without you." Almost of their own volition, Eva's arms came up and loosely clasped around Chloe. She took a moment to smell Chloe's unique smell -- it was a mixture of a perfume she couldn't identify but which blended perfectly with her skin and a heady, outdoorsy smell like the sea, sand and suntan oil all rolled together. She tried to speak but no sound came out, so she cleared her throat and tried again. "It's a pleasure, Chlo." Chloe pulled back to look at her, delighted. "Do you know that's the first time you've called me that?" Eva found herself blushing again. Goddamit!! What this woman did to her. "Er, no, I didn't realize. I guess it's because it's always how Gail refers to you?" She suddenly realized that they still had their arms around each other and she dropped hers from Chloe's back like she'd been burned, unable to stop herself. A cloud passed over Chloe's face when she saw that Eva looked a little stricken. "Eva? Are you OK? You don't look so hot. Do you want to sit down?" "No...umm...I'm fine. I just need to, you know, pack up. You were my last patient of the day." That comment brought Chloe down to earth, but she didn't relinquish her hold on Eva quite yet. She couldn't. It was like her hands were glued around Eva's waist. Something was going on and she realised that she absolutely had to know what. "Eva...?" "Chloe, I...I think you should let me go now." She said, so softly Chloe barely heard her. "But Eva," she said equally softly, "then I wouldn't be touching you anymore." A smile unfurled on her face and was a thing of such sweetness, Eva actually felt her heart stop beating in her chest. Just as suddenly as it happened, it restarted with a thump so loud Eva was sure Chloe could hear it. Now she actually did feel faint. "Chloe, I don't actually feel so good. I think I need to sit down..." Chloe couldn't help herself. She swung Eva around, pushing her back against the door, pulling herself into her body again and just rested her head on Eva's shoulder. "I'll hold you up" she murmured into Eva's neck. As she did this, she became aware of two things: the first was that Eva's heart was thumping in her chest, and the second was that her breathing was labored. She pulled back to look at Eva's face, worried that she genuinely was feeling ill, to be met by her intense blue eyes. As she became lost in her gaze yet again, she also became aware that Eva's pupils were widely dilated. 'Oh my God,' she thought. "Oh my God," she said. The look that crept into Eva's eyes right then was pure panic, as she realized that Chloe could see deep inside her and knew her for who she was; knew her secret. "Chloe," she said, fear making her voice hoarse, "Chloe, you have to let me go!" Chloe felt something slot into place deep in her belly. She leaned forward so that her forehead was in contact with the side of Eva's face, her mouth next to Eva's ear and she whispered: "Evie, it's OK...just breathe...we'll get through this together...just listen to the sound of my voice..." as she consciously echoed Eva's words to her from her the months before. Eva made a sound that was something between a sigh and a groan. After a while, her breathing slowed and she felt a languorous, heavy feeling stealing over her limbs. She felt like she could barely keep her eyes open. Chloe pulled back slightly to look at her. "OK?" she asked. Eva just shook her head. "So far from OK, it's not even funny," she said. Once again, Chloe leaned forward, but this time she raised her lips to Eva's and tenderly kissed her. For a few indescribable moments, it seemed as if Eva kissed her back. Suddenly, she reached her threshold and almost roughly she pushed Chloe from her. "I can't do this," she said huskily, "I can't, Chloe. You're my patient; I'm your therapist. This is absolutely out of the question. Yes, I think you can probably tell that I am very attracted to you, but I am not about to throw almost a years' worth of hard work away just because I'm attracted to you. You deserve better..." Chloe looked at her like she was mad. "Did you hear me complaining?" she asked succinctly. "No, but you don't understand. There is a power imbalance here -- I'm the therapist, you're the patient. I know so much about you, while you know nothing about me. This is WRONG!" And right then, Chloe realized something about the woman she had her arms around; something that caused a deep feeling of compassion to well up, nearly choking her. "Eva," Chloe said softly, bringing her mouth to Eva's ear again, "shall I tell you what I know about you? You're very, very good at what you do. You've become so good at what you do you've forgotten why you started doing it in the first place. Do you know why you started doing this work, Eva?" "To help people get over traumatic bereavement!" Eva nearly yelled at her. "No." "What do you mean, no?" Eva said, glaring at Chloe and breathing heavily. Chloe looked at her in a very measured way. "Eva, you started doing this work to heal yourself. It's time to finish the healing." There were so many things Eva wanted to say. She wanted to scream at Chloe; she wanted to ask her how she knew; she wanted to put her in her place. Most of all, she wanted to run and keep on running. She had not felt so vulnerable in many, many years. She tried to hold it together; she tried to pull herself out of the warm, loving embrace of her patient to escape the feelings which were battering her shaky defenses; she tried to calm her gradually more hysterical thoughts. Chloe wouldn't let her go. She held on to her and kept murmuring that it would be OK, that she could let it go, that Chloe would be there to catch her. And then Eva couldn't hold it back anymore. She gave up; she gave in. She folded her arms around the remarkable woman in front of her, placed her head on Chloe's shoulder and sobbed. *** Eva took a leave of absence. She took great care to be responsible with her clients by seeing those who she was involved in a process with and explaining the bare minimum of what she needed to explain to get the time she needed. Those who needed further support she made provision for, but she refused to take on anyone new. She referred everyone on her waiting list to colleagues. She could not face Chloe. After their last session and what happened, she felt utterly naked and humiliated. She sent her an e-mail apologizing for her behavior and asking that Chloe give her space and leave her alone to sort out her feelings. She refused to answer any of Chloe's subsequent e-mails back to her. Then she closed herself in her house and answered no-one. Chloe was devastated. In one day she had lost her therapist -- the woman she confided absolutely everything in -- as well as the woman she was pretty sure she was in love with. She cried all over Gail and berated herself for pushing Eva when she hadn't known what she was dealing with. It had just felt so right that she hadn't questioned the feeling. She wanted to go to Eva, beg her forgiveness and speak to her, but Gail wouldn't allow her to contact her on Eva's strict instructions. Given the circumstances, it was strange that Gail was the one person Eva chose to confide in. Eva's sense of shame went so deep that she felt she had to make amends to the person who had brought Chloe into her life -- that was the initial reason she contacted her. On a far deeper level, it was clear that Gail was Eva's connection to Chloe. She was deeply ashamed at having perverted her professional ethics, but Gail was surprisingly blasé about her professional indiscretion. "Eva, trust me, if this was anyone other than Chloe, I might feel differently, but I know how single-minded she can be. Single-minded and pig-headed. I also know she likes you and has for a long time." Gail looked at her, searching her face. "You know you're going to have to speak to her sometime, right? She's hurting, Evie. I know that all of this happened for a reason and I can't help thinking that despite everything, I can't be sorry she found you out...you needed what she gave you, you know..." Eva felt panic rising up in her. "What did she tell you? I mean, what did she say actually happened?" Gail was confused. "Well, she said that she had given you a hug and just sensed your deep sadness, really connected with you in the moment and pushed you to let it go, which you did. Why? What are you talking about?" Eva closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, ashen-faced. "Gail...I really fucked things up." Gail looked at her in shock. She had never heard Eva swear before. Chloe, well, she swore like a sailor, but she'd never heard that from Eva. "Well, yeah, but I think we've established that it was due to circumstances beyond your control and that this may ultimately be what you need. Wait, what are neither of you telling me?" Eva sighed, opened her eyes and started talking. "I think Chloe has been protecting me. Ummm...look, I need to tell you something really, really difficult for me that I've never told another human being. Something that Chloe guessed and that's what shook me up so badly I had no defense against her." "OK...?" "When Chloe hugged me that day, I had a...uh...response to her..." Eva trailed off. "A response?" stuttered Gail. "A...uh...response? What kind of response?" "You're going to make me say it?" "Jesus, Evie, I think I need to hear you say it to believe it!" Gail said, her eyes wide and disbelieving. "Isn't this humiliating enough?" asked Eva softly, unable to meet her friends' incredulous stare. She sighed deeply. "All right, I give up. A few weeks ago I realized that the way Chloe affects me is because I have been attracted to her since the first time I laid eyes on her. I had pushed any such thoughts down so far and so long ago that I couldn't even admit it to myself, and when I did I had to re-evaluate everything knew about myself. I had been working with it in my own therapy and trying to come to terms with it and actually I was still maintaining the therapeutic relationship and trying to be responsible when she hugged me. Even then I kept it together, but she looked me in the eyes and I'm guessing she saw something there, because she...umm...kissed me." "SHE DID WHAT??" "She kissed me. And I tried to push her away after that, but she wouldn't be pushed. And then...well then she somehow looked into my soul and ripped out a secret I didn't even know I had and I just kind of completely unraveled." The last was said with closed eyes and a washed-out expression on her face. She was too scared and too tired to open her eyes, but felt the sofa shift underneath her as Gail sat next to her and took her hand. "Oh honey, she's very, very perceptive..." Gail said. "She seems to understand things about people without them ever having to say anything." Eva smiled at her wanly. "Seems like she sure got my number!" They sat in companionable silence for a while until Eva looked over at Gail from under her lashes. "Gail?" "Yes, hun?" "Gail, I've committed probably the worst indiscretion a therapist can make and you're sitting here saying nothing." Gail sighed. "Evie, listen to me. You didn't sleep with her and you didn't take advantage of her. Chloe, despite what's happened to her, is not really someone other people can take advantage of. She understood exactly what she was doing, and believe me, she wanted it to happen so badly. I've had to listen to her prattling on about you for months!" Eva looked shocked. "Why did you never say anything?" Gail smirked. "Well, I just thought she should speak to you about it, but in retrospect perhaps I should have. I think I could have done it without groping you..." Eva laughed. Gail looked at her again, suddenly very serious. "I have just one question for you. Did you enjoy it?" Eva turned nearly purple. "Jesus, Gail!" "See, this is what I know. Chloe has fallen for you. She is my best friend in the world and I will do anything for her. Right now, the situation is killing her. She's done so well, but she's still very vulnerable, even though in some ways she's the toughest woman I know. Is there the remotest chance that you feel the same way?" "OK. Honestly? It was the most intensely erotic experience I have had since Dave and I made love the first time. And I happen to think that Chloe is remarkable, luminous and the only word I keep coming back to it 'fetching.' Happy?" Psych Gail just grinned a big, happy grin. Eva continued: "The problem is, I'm just not ready to go there, Gail. And I do think that this is something I need to discuss with her for the first time, not anyone else, even if you are her best friend." Gail was still grinning. "OK." Eva looked at the younger woman and swatted her with a cushion in the face. "Oh, shut up..." *** Two days later, Gail was due to meet up with Eva again and Eva was hoping to find out how Chloe was doing with some judicious questioning. When the doorbell rang she yelled to Gail to come in, that she was in the kitchen putting on the coffee. She was busying herself with the coffee plunger, when she heard a voice close behind her. "So...you think I'm fetching?" All movement stopped. Eva couldn't get it right to take another breath. She couldn't turn around. She stood there with her thighs pressed up against the kitchen counter, worried that if she moved, her legs might give way. She felt the arms slide around her at the same time she smelled the intoxicating smell that came off Chloe's' skin and her breath escaped in a long 'whoosh' like a sigh. "I've missed you so much." Chloe said in a whisper against her ear. "I've missed you too, Chlo." * Chapter 2 will be posted in the next 2 weeks. Psyche Him The colors red and black glisten in the dark of the small room. The moonlight coming in through the drapes framing the middle of the floor like a pretty picture. Hair the color of chocolate fans out around a face as dark as cocoa and eyes like black stars, glittering with life so many minutes ago, now dark and vitality drained. He stands in the corner, just out of sight, and picks up an old gun, sitting on the nightstand where she'd run not too many minutes ago. He puts the bullets back in and sets it back in its' place. He had let her run for it, he'd let her try to pull the trigger only to find it empty... and he smiled. Her She wakes up to light shining in through her windows. The light of day always makes her feel alive and full of energy. She bounces out of bed and into the bathroom. She removes her shirt, her underwear, and gets in the shower. She sighs in happiness at the feeling of warmth that permeates her being. When she is finished, she dresses for work. She works as a police officer, special division. A division that deals with those who are dead. I sigh as I look at my uniform, body armor and black netting. Looks sexy don't get me wrong, I love it but I just don't like what it represents. Death. Maybe it's for those who are already dead but I detested killing, finding it beneath me. But I must wipe those creatures from the face of the earth. The loathsome creatures that beckon for death with their very existence. So I suck it up and do what needs to be done. I pull out my cross and strap it on. It goes over my chest, it sort of sits in between by breasts, as frightfully small as they are, and rubs over them with its' arms when I move too vigorously. I pick up my gun and head out the front door. The rounds in my gun were filled with blessed wood splinters. If you hit them in the heart, it was a sure death. If not, it at least slowed them down. I march out of my room and into the mess hall, everyone is already there, having breakfast and waiting for the stragglers to be ready. We were on duty from eight a.m. till eight p.m. we had the best shift there was. Rarely ever were there vampires out in the sunshine and rarely did we lose more than a handful of men every year. We didn't wake up at ungodly hours or stay up to them. We had enough people to cover both time constraints. Eight to eight. Nine to seven. I got some breakfast and waited for a seat to reveal itself to me. I didn't have friends, I didn't acquaint myself with others very often. I find a seat on the floor down the hall, eat my food, and throw away my dishes when I'm done. They were plastic. I walk back to the barracks and pick up extra clips for my guns. I walk outside, waiting in the sun, soaking up its' shining energy and reveling in the light of life and good. I could almost feel sorry for the people who were changed. They never got to experience the sun again. Not unless they were especially strong and resilient to the light of day. But I fell short of feeling bad for them, just so. I sigh and step into the very dark van, hearing others march to my location and feeling the truck dip with their weight. We were going on rounds, it was normal, everyday. What wasn't normal was the hit we got on the sensor. A vampire was out in the daytime, and he was killing. We rushed to the scene of course, the bumping of the van making me somewhat sick, as it was relatively far away. We stopped, the doors opened and we stepped out into the sunlight to find a home in the middle of suburbia with blood staining a window and the insides of the room. We looked into that window and saw the body of a black woman with long tresses lying on the floor. We secured the area around the house before going inside and securing the house itself. We kept the kill room cordoned off for the investigators. I was close to that promotion, investigation would be my area after this month was over. They couldn't deny my request, I was a good soldier. The investigator was an older man, this was his jurisdiction as well as ours, so we crossed paths sometimes in the fullness of the light. If I didn't know any better I'd say he was a vampire. But we'd long since learned that not all vampires looked this way, so I couldn't say he looked like one. But I could say he looked like the old superstition. Dashing, debonair, whatever you call it, he was handsome and virile. His hair was silver, gray and white lined up together and shimmering in the sunlight. I smile to him and turn back to my duty as guard. His hand touches my hair as he passes by and I smirk to myself. We were lovers you see, he was much older than I and yet still so strong and young-looking. I had wanted him from the first time I'd seen him, and now I had him. We didn't keep it a secret but we were discreet. There were rumors about us but no one really believed or disbelieved. It was simply something to talk about. I hear him order those closest into the room to move the body so he could see the other side of her neck. Apparently he couldn't touch her until he was ready to sense for the vampire who took her life. Investigators were given a special mental chip, they recorded everything about the body, any lingering smells, any measurements, like those of the teeth circumference and distance apart. They were automatically recorded and if they were to encounter another sign of the vampire the chip would alert them immediately. He was finished before we were done being bored with just standing around doing nothing. So that was good. He came out and ordered us to move on, he'd call the coroner and the staker to make certain her body was taken care of. If you staked a body it wouldn't become a vampire. Who knows if he shared his soul with her? So we had to take precautions. There were no nice vampires, like in those old stories. None on our side, fighting for us. None watching over all of us. So we killed without discrimination and without pause. Next week found me at home, on my day off for the month, with my lover due to be there at any moment. I dressed in bright red, crimson was my favorite color after all. I assume it's because I have to somehow associate that color with something good. I dress in a backless number that has a corset style bodice. It gives me the illusion of cleavage and even though he's told me numerous times that he loves my breasts, I still think I should have more. Vampire whores get to have C-cup breasts, all of them somehow grow and shrink when they change, so they all have the same figure. I don't know how it's accomplished but I'd love to simulate it for my own breasts. I would never sell my soul for a body like that of course not. But I would give almost anything else. Have I told you my lovers' name yet? No? Marcus. Marcus Shroeding. He knocks on the door and I gasp, as I haven't gotten my stockings clipped to my underwear yet. He loved that small obstacle, he even left them on and worked around them he liked them so much. I hurry as I yell, "Just a moment!" He waits patiently as I hook them together and finally hobble over to the door. I open it and he's standing there in a tux, looking as rugged as ever. He had the smallest smattering of hair over his jaw, just enough to scratch and tickle. I giggle as he kisses me and pulls me into his body, shutting the door. His hands smooth my hair back from my face as he kisses my cheeks, my forehead, my nose. He pecks my chin and I stop giggling as he stares into my eyes. I loved it when he did that. Like he was peering into my soul, he stared and seemed to assess. "It's good to see you. I made a reservation for dinner, but it's not for another two hours. How much trouble do you think we could get into?" I grin and move my body along his, feeling the evidence of his arousal. I unzip the front of my corset and his hand slips into the gap it makes. Dinner was wonderful of course. We ate lobster, steaks, and caviar. I didn't have much of a taste for rich food but Marcus loved to give me the best. I was fine with it so I didn't complain. Who would, really? He patted my hand when I smiled and squeezed when I made a face at the snooty waiter. He was chuckling when he walked me home and my kiss goodnight was full of promises for later. I went to bed alone that night, as with every other night. I sigh in dejection as I fall slowly asleep, my body relaxing and my breathing evening out. And then I felt it. Deep within my dreams, I felt a disturbance in my mind. It was slimy, intrusive and disgusting. I screamed in my dream but I knew I made no noise in the real world. There was a bone shuddering chuckle and a finger down my spine. Then I woke up to the sunshine shining through my window. I was late! I jumped out of bed and ran for my uniform in the closet. I jumped around the room as fast as I could, dressing, putting on make-up and my special scent. Oh my make-up was special too. Once you put it on, you looked like everyone else around you. It was something that made your features blend in with all others around you. It confused vampires when we went to attack. The scent I use would drive them crazy with thirst. It was blood concentrate. It wasn't red but it did do the job so I didn't nitpick. I ran out and into the mess hall, I had to get breakfast before-! RING----RING---DING---DONG NOOOOO! I was too late! I rushed to follow after my fellow soldiers and load up in the van to go on patrol. We all smooshed inside and I sighed as my stomach growled loudly in hunger. "Have too much fun last night?" I look to my left and see a muffin in the hands of one of my comrades, he's smirking at me and I'm gobsmacked at his face, it's something I've never seen before. Since when has he been here? "I'm Krad, Krad luos. Everyone I know just calles me Kay." I nod and try to turn away but he grasps my arm and pulls me back around, "Want?" He nudges the muffin against my hand and I take it. "Thank you." "No problem, we ARE comrades in arms after all right?" His smile stuns me and I sit there staring at him a few moments before turning away and quickly eating the muffin. His hair is a sprightly black color, short on both sides of his head and spiked forward in the middle. The long strands from the middle of his head reach all the way up to spike out over his brow. He puts on his helmet and smiles at me again. I put on my helmet and everyone around is tensed, on alert, ready to go after the next vampire with speed and fortitude. I admire them for their courage and hope that I look as steadfast as I am determined to destroy vampires, but may seem too soft on the outside, as my face is round and childish. I flick down my visor as the alert goes off and the rest follow suit. We are ready. We are many. We are Slayers. Psychedelic Gang Bang I was hungry as fuck. I opened up a kitchen cabinet and rummaged around. Ok, here we go. Cocoa Crackles. My favorite cereal. I opened the box and looked inside. There was exactly one cocoa crackle left. I put the box back where I found it and opened another cabinet. Inside was a sandwich bag filled with cereal. I couldn't tell what kind. I must have packed it for a hike. I opened the plastic bag and dumped the cereal in a bowl. I poured milk over it and put a spoonful in my mouth. Instead of a satisfying crunch, I encountered stale chewiness. I thought about spitting it out but decided to eat it anyway. I needed something to steady myself after a rough night. I offered some to Backseat Betty. Backseat Betty is my inflatable sex doll. She declined of course. Backseat Betty can't have liquids. I continued to wolf down the stale cereal and had almost finished the bowl when my cellular phone started to vibrate. I opened it up and saw a text from my girlfriend Sabrina. The text said: Tell me more about Mike and Spike. A cold feeling came over me. How did she know about THOSE guys??? It suddenly hit me. I had mentioned Mike and Spike last night when we were talking on the phone. I had eaten some mushrooms and was talking shit like I do when I'm high. Memories of the conversation piled up like a car wreck in my brain. I had told Sabrina everything I'd ever fantasized about doing to her sexually , and even came up with a few new things on the spot. To top it off I told her that I wanted to share her with two friends of mine, Mike and Spike. How she reacted to that, and what I said after, were too blurry to recall. And now here she was, texting me for further clarification. I dialed her number and listened with bated breath as the phone rang. Sabrina answered. "Hello?" I cleared my throat. "Hey, I just got your text." "So who are Mike and Spike? Are they friends of yours?" "Not exactly." "All those things you were talking about last night -- all the sexual stuff you said you wanted to do -- was that for real? Or was that just something you said for my benefit?" I took a deep breath. "I don't remember everything I said -- the fact is that I was high on mushrooms -- but, generally speaking, the shit I talk about when I'm high is for the purpose of feeding my own sexual demons. So the answer is no, it wasn't for your benefit. It was me feeding my demons." "Ok. I figured as much. But who are Mike and Spike?" "Mike and Spike are two characters I invented so I could fuck you harder." "What? What is that supposed to mean?" "Remember the first time we had sex and you said you wanted it really rough? You told me that if things got too crazy you would just use the safe word. I said fine and started pouring on the heat. I was trying to get you to say the safe word. At one point I remember wishing I had some other guys with me so we could give you a gang bang. In my mind I pictured these two guys -- real alpha-male sleazebag type guys -- and named them Mike and Spike." "Hmm. That's kinda weird." "Yeah, but it worked. I imagined how these guys would fuck you, and then I acted out the part. You told me later that it was the roughest sex you'd ever had. And, in case you forgot, you had to use the safe word. But not because I was hurting you. You told me it was because your orgasm was too intense. You needed me to slow down so that you wouldn't cum too hard." "I remember it alright. You fucked me really good. But let me get this straight: When you were fucking me, you were pretending to be two guys?" "Yeah. It was like a one-man gangbang." "That's pretty hot." "Pretending to be Mike and Spike has come in handy a bunch of times since then. But now it's turning into a problem." "Why do you say that?" "Because Mike and Spike don't just come when I need them. They show up whenever I'm in a certain state of mind, like when I do mushrooms. And this worries me. Because while I consider myself a gentleman with sleazebag tendencies, Mike and Spike are sleazebags to the core." Sabrina paused. "Okay, so I'm just curious. What do you think Mike and Spike would do with me if they had the opportunity? Like if they could do whatever they wanted." "I couldn't say. And I'm not trying to be evasive. The fact is that Mike and Spike aren't in my brain right now. And to get them back I would have to eat a mushroom." Sabrina groaned. "Look. We both know that Mike and Spike are aspects of your own twisted psyche. So stop hiding behind excuses and just tell me what they would do with me." "I just told you, I can't answer that question because they're not here. And the only way I can bring them back is if I eat a mush..." My eye fell to the half-eaten bowl of cereal on the counter. Instead of stale cereal I saw a bunch of motorcycle helmets floating in a sea of milk. I squinted. Oh shit. Those aren't motorcycle helmets. Those are mushrooms. My heart skipped a beat. I had eaten a hundred dollars worth of mushrooms. About five times the normal amount. What the fuck was I going to do now??? "Listen baby, I've got a real problem here. I just ate thirty mushrooms. I thought they were cereal. I think I need to go to the hospital." "Don't worry," Sabrina said. "I'll be right there." She hung up the phone. I sat down and looked around the room. Shadows danced in the corners. Maybe it was a trick of the light but the shadows seemed to have heads topped with horns. I don't know how long I sat there but at some point a thunderclap shook the house. I went to the window to see if it was raining. It was totally dry outside. A second thunderclap rocked the foundation of the building. I realized then that it wasn't thunder. It was someone knocking at the door. I walked down the hall. When I looked through the peephole I saw Sabrina's face distorted in convex. When I opened the door I saw that she was wearing a trench coat. In my overly sensitive state of mind she was more than just beautiful. She was a magical being that radiated sexual energy. "Have the mushrooms kicked in yet?" She asked with a spark in her eye. I nodded. Sabrina walked inside and said Hello to Backseat Betty, who was propped up against the wall. She put down her purse and unbuttoned her trench coat. Underneath it she was wearing high heels and panties and nothing else. "Don't worry sweetheart," she said. "We're gonna have a good time tonight. I'm going to let you live out your wildest fantasies. I've decided that you and your friends Mike and Spike are going to fuck me tonight." "Really?" I asked. Sabrina flashed her beautiful smile. "I'll do anything," she said. "And I mean ANYTHING." She pulled a joint out of her trench coat and a lighter. She flicked the lighter and a flame jumped up like a jack-in-the-box puppet. I watched her mouth as she sucked on the joint. She held in the air for a moment and then blew it in my face. The air from her lungs was warm and sweet. I felt my dick getting hard. "Do that again," I said. Again, she exhaled, blowing the smoke in my face. I breathed in as she did. The whole time I was looking at her beautiful face and looking at her mouth in particular. God I love that mouth. I had lost all sense of courtesy. But Sabrina didn't mind. She smiled and licked her lips. "Do whatever you want to me." Her voice betrayed her eagerness. "If you get too rough, I'll use the safe word." I decided then and there that I would let nothing but my own selfish desires dictate how I treated this woman. If she enjoyed it, all the better. But from now on I would think only of myself. As odd as it may sound, what I wanted to do most in that moment, as I watched Sabrina's mouth, was to simply kiss her. Not as a replacement for sex. But as a prelude to the evilest sex imaginable. A way of apologizing for the sins I was about to commit. And so I did just that. I cupped the back of her neck in my hand and pressed my lips to hers. I tasted her delicious mouth. I ran my tongue over her teeth. I savored the taste of her saliva. I breathed in deep to gather as much as I could of her glorious smell. At some point she let her trench coat slide from her shoulders and fall to the floor. I closed my eyes and thought about Mike and Spike. Can you hear me Mike and Spike? Help me turn this beautiful woman into a cum-gargling whore. I opened my eyes and looked at Sabrina's mouth. It was just as beautiful as before, but it looked different. Instead of looking like a mouth, it looked like a fun house tunnel. Yes. This beautiful woman was a carnival ride for my amusement. I marveled at her pink tongue and the smooth interior of her throat. Even in the dim light of my bedroom I could see her epiglottis. I imagined all the twists and turns that followed. What was at the end of this fun house tunnel? Her dirty butthole of course. This thought warmed my soul. I grabbed Sabrina by the back of her head and led her to my bed. I pushed her down on it so that her ass was sticking up in the air. An air of sleazy merriment had descended upon the scene. Sabrina, who would soon be enduring the brunt of my brutish desire, panted in anticipation. I yanked down her panties. I was about to throw them on the floor but decided to sniff them first. I put my nose to the crotch of her panties and inhaled. Yellow flowers bloomed in my skull. Then I moved my nose to the part of her underwear that rubbed on her ass crack. I noticed a brown stain on the fabric. I put my nose to the stain and inhaled as deeply as my lungs would allow. A musky aroma took control of my brain. It ebbed through my system and saturated the very core of my being. Though an accurate description of this smell is impossible, since the realm of the truly perfect is beyond words, I can capture some hint of its essence by describing it as standing downwind from a chocolate factory while a master chef grills a shark on a bonfire made of skunk bones. I held the smell in my nose until my head throbbed and then expelled it in a stuttering wheeze. Sabrina looked over her shoulder. "Are you smelling my panties?" I nodded with tears in my eyes. "You're disgusting," she said in a voice that was simultaneously incredulous and bemused. "You don't know what disgusting is," I laughed. "But you'll soon find out." I threw her panties on the floor and spread her butt cheeks open. I gazed in rapturous desire at her puckered butthole and then put my nose in it. I experienced the same olfactory ecstasy but this time the funk was even stronger. After I took several deep sniffs I prepared to put my lips to her anus. But then I had an idea. I got off the bed and walked to where she'd left her purse. I opened it and found her lipstick. It looked like the color she had on. I uncapped the lipstick, spread her ass cheeks open, and drew a bright red circle around her butthole. "Blow me a kiss." I heard a kissing sound come from her face. "Not with your mouth. I want you to blow me a kiss with your ass." Sabrina strained. Her butthole opened and closed and let out a sonorous fart. I was impressed. Not only by the control that she had over her anus, but by her willingness to go along with my antics. "Keep blowing me kisses with your ass." With each blown kiss of her anus a puff of air was expelled and with each closure a tiny draft was sucked back in. The impression I had was that her anus was breathing. I picked up the half-smoked joint, along with Sabrina's lighter, and lit it. I took a toke just to get the joint going and then I put the end at the opening of her anus. Her butthole closed around it like a puckered mouth. The tip glowed bright red. Her anus opened and let out a puff of fragrant smoke. Then I put it back in her asshole and her anus took another hit. I decided to do just as I'd done with the smoke that she exhaled from her mouth. I put my face near her asshole and inhaled. I breathed in the aroma and savored it like a cigar aficionado. It was the perfect blend of marijuana and her dirty ass. I let her lipstick-covered butthole take one last puff and then put the joint out. At the risk of sounding maudlin, I found myself having the same sentimental thoughts that I'd experienced when she blew smoke in my face with her mouth. I wanted to make out with her anus. I stuck my tongue deep inside and savored the taste. I breathed in through my nose to gather as much as I could of her anal musk. I don't know how long I tongue-fucked her asshole but it felt like hours. "Is this "Gone with the Wind" or something?" Sabrina asked with annoyance in her voice. She had grown restless. I pulled my tongue from her ass and sat back. She got up and walked naked into the kitchen. From the bed I could see her pour herself a glass of Jack Daniels. She came back, sat on the bed, and sipped her drink. "What happened to Mike and Spike?" She swirled the ice and stared at the glass with a glum face. I'd let her down. I had tried to be nasty but instead exposed myself as a low rent Romeo whose only outre tendency was a penchant for eating ass. I was searching for some words when a deafening knock shook the door. I wondered if the knock had been amplified by my drug-addled brain. But the stunned look on Sabrina's face told me that it was as loud as I'd thought. Before I could do or say anything another knock boomed. "Who the fuck is that?" she said anxiously, scrambling for her panties. "I have a pretty good idea," I said. "I better get the door." "Wait," she whispered. "Are you sure we should answer that? Maybe we should just pretend we're not home." I sighed. "Either I answer the door or they'll knock it off the hinges. We could try hiding but I don't think it'll help." Sabrina swallowed a lump in her throat. Another knock boomed. It sounded like the wood frame of the door was cracking. "Alright!" I yelled. "I'm coming!" I walked to the door and opened it. In the shadows of the hallway stood two hulking shapes. They stepped forward into the light. "Sorry we're late." "No problem. What happened anyway?" I held the door open. "Spike's Harley broke down as we were riding through Sheol. Some unborn souls helped us replace the chains but it still took awhile. Whoa, hey there." "Mike, Spike, this is my girlfriend Sabrina." Sabrina reached out to shake Mike and Spike's hands. She looked like a fairy princess shaking the hands of two giants. "Sabrina wants all three of us to fuck her. She said we can do whatever we want." Mike and Spike nodded. "Okay then." "Hold up a minute fellas." Sabrina cleared her throat. "I mean, there's no rush, is there?" Mike and Spike looked at each other and then back at Sabrina. "We've had a long day, lady. So with all respects, we'd just as soon get down to business." Sabrina looked at me. "Okay, um...dear, can I have a word with you alone?" I said Sure and we withdrew to a corner. Sabrina leaned in so that she wouldn't be heard. "I thought you said those guys were imaginary. I thought you said you pretended to be them when you wanted to fuck somebody really hard." "I was trying to explain that. They used to be just figments of my imagination. But now they show up every time I do mushrooms." Sabrina groaned. "Well, what do you think they want to do with me?" "I don't know. Treat you like a whore maybe?" Sabrina rubbed her forehead. "I don't know sweetheart..." "Is there a problem over there?" Mike's baritone cut through the room. "No," I shouted back. "We're just ironing out some details." "Okay," Sabrina whispered. "I've never had sex with more than one man before, so wish me luck." "You're not getting cold feet, are you?" Mike asked gruffly. "Nope." Sabrina said. "I'm ready to get fucked all night long." Mike and Spike smiled widely. "Great. Let's get started!" "Okay. But first," Sabrina said firmly, "there are a few perimeters that we need to establish in regards to what you can and can't do." Mike and Spike nodded. "Okay," she began, "in regards to roughness...I'm generally for it. But the two of you look like professional wrestlers so I'm going to give you some guidelines. I like it when men act like they can't control themselves in my presence - it makes me feel sexy - but I don't want you to lose control to the extent that you actually do me harm. So rule number 1 is 'Don't hurt me.'" Mike and Spike nodded. "Rule number 2. If things get too rough I'll use a safe word. The safe word is the Eskimo word for palm tree." Mike scratched his head. "Do Eskimos even have a word for palm tree?" Sabrina shrugged. "I don't know." "Well, how are you going to say it if you don't know it?" "I didn't say the safe word was the actual word, I said it was 'the Eskimo word for palm tree.' Get me?" Spike rubbed his chin. "So it's more of a safe phrase than a safe word." "Safe phrase, safe word, what's the difference. Alright fellas," Sabrina shouted. "Let's get started!" I cleared my throat. Ahem. "There's one more rule. Rule number 3, I guess." Mike, Spike, Sabrina and Sabrina all turned to look at me. "I'm the only one who gets to fuck Sabrina up the ass." "What!" Mike and Spike both cried in unison. "That's right. Both of your dicks are enormous. If you buttfuck her then her ass is going to be stretched out. And that's my favorite orifice. So stick to her pussy and her face and we'll all be happy." Spike shook his head. "That's bullshit!" he spat. "You're telling me that we can't fuck that beautiful ass? That's more than half the reason we came tonight. You're a selfish bastard, you know that?" I slapped Spike hard across his face and then grabbed his ear and twisted it. "Listen bitch. Did you forget who created you? Me, that's who. If it wasn't for me you wouldn't even be here. Do you get that?" I was being a jerk but I couldn't help it. I wanted Sabrina's ass all to myself. Spike's eyes were watering with pain. "Yeah," he said. "I get it." He couldn't nod because I was twisting his ear too hard. I let him go. "Ok good, no hard feelings." Spike rubbed his ear. Sabrina seemed to take heart by witnessing my bold treatment of Spike. Perhaps she thought the two ruthless goons were under my control and that I could be counted on to act as the voice of reason if things went too far. I wish that were true. But the fact is that I took a huge risk by treating Spike that way just now. I had no idea whether he would obey my command or break me into a thousand pieces. That's how strongly I felt about having Sabrina's ass to myself. These big-dicked bastards would wreck her butthole permanently. I couldn't have that on my conscience. I secretly worried that Sabrina had bitten off more than she could chew. Sabrina, on the other hand, seemed to have gotten over her trepidation. She poured three more glasses of whiskey and handed them to Mike, Spike, and I. She topped her own drink off and lifted her glass in a toast to fun times. We all clinked glasses. Mike and Spike drank their drinks in one gulp. Mike belched. Spike clapped his hands together and said "Let's party!" The pair took off their clothes, letting their huge cocks flop out. Their pendulous members hung down as far as their knees. Without warning Mike picked Sabrina up and threw her onto the bed. Sabrina squealed with delight. I was glad that she was enjoying herself. I only hoped she had enough nerve to hold on for the rest of the ride. She assumed her prone position once more and then reached back and spread her butt cheeks apart. Her lipstick-painted anus looked more inviting than ever. "Hey boys," she said seductively. "Why don't one of you come over here and lick my asshole?" Mike and Spike looked at each other. "What does she think, that we're trained monkeys or something?" Psychedelic Gang Bang Mike grabbed Sabrina by the hair and turned her over. "How about you lick OUR assholes?" Sabrina looked worried. "I've only done that for my boyfriend. It's kind of a special thing that I just do for him." Mike turned to Spike. "Hey Spike, do you remember this broad mentioning a no ass-licking rule?" "I sure don't." Spike said with a grin. "If she wants to start changing the rules now, that would invalidate the other rules she said. You don't want to change that rule do you?" Sabrina thought about it for a second and looked to me for advice. I whispered "It's okay honey. Do it just this once." "Okay," she said reluctantly. "But this is a special one-time only kind of thing." Mike and Spike smiled. "One time only. That's fair." "And you guys are clean down there I hope," she said with a skeptical look on her face. "Oh sure." Spike said. "I just had a shower - what was it - like two weeks ago?" "Yeah, me too." Mike said. "My butthole smells like a rose." Mike got on all fours. His naked ass looked like the backside of a polar bear. Sabrina came up behind him and spread his ass cheeks apart. To the amazement of everyone in the room - most of all Mike himself - she started licking his asshole. Spike and I were all deathly silent. From the blissful look on Mike's face she was tongue-fucking him deep. The only sound in the room was the sloppy in-and-out of Sabrina's tongue. "You nasty whore," I muttered. It wasn't an accusation. It was a form of praise. But being faced with such sublime beauty and degradation I could do nothing but marvel at the sight. After Sabrina tongued Mike's butthole she moved to Spike and gave him a rim-job that was every bit as thorough. The evil bastard's face smoothed into a look of Buddha-like transcendence as she tongued his anus. I took it as proof that any man, no matter how hardened by life, can be redeemed under the right circumstances. When she was done Sabrina looked up at me. "How about you?" she asked. "Do you want me to lick your ass?" I answered by dropping my pants. This beautiful angel of a woman crawled over on her hands and knees and, kneeling behind me, proceeded to give me the most sensual rim-job I'd ever received. Sabrina had a long tongue and a talent for using it. After what seemed like a million years she pulled her tongue back out of my ass. As I turned around my dick slapped her face. "Oh, so you want a blow job now?" she asked. "I don't just want a blowjob." I told her. "I want to fuck your pretty face." Sabrina opened her fun house tunnel and I put the head of my cock inside. I could feel her hot tongue on my shaft. I held her head and moved it up and down on my rod, forcing it inch by inch down her throat. I could feel her epiglottis. I looked down at her face. What a sublime sight. Her mouth was stretched around my manhood and her eyes were watering as she suppressed her gag reflexes. I pushed my cock down her throat even further and began to fuck it. I could feel her throat constrict as it attempted to dislodge me like a chicken bone. But instead of pulling out and allowing her to breathe, I continued to pump her pretty face. The tears that rimmed her eyes overflowed and ran down her cheeks. When I opened my eyes I noticed that my associates Mike and Spike were standing on either side of me, pumping their cocks with their fists. "How much longer until I can go?" It was Spike. He had a greedy look in his eye as he watched me plow Sabrina's face. I reluctantly pulled my dick from her mouth and stepped back. Sabrina spat out a long glob of drool and gasped for air. Before she could take a second breath Spike rammed his gigantic slab down her throat and began to pummel her tonsils. Her crying face manufactured fresh tears as this incorrigible goon ransacked her tender throat. It was like watching a train crash into a tunnel that was too small. I was simultaneously excited and repulsed by the spectacle. I was quite frankly amazed that she could fit the whole thing in her mouth, let alone take it down her throat. Especially since Spike's dick seemed almost thicker than her throat in the first place. She looked like a snake trying to swallow a battleship. There was just no way she was going to get that cock down her throat. Yet somehow it happened. Mike had had enough of watching Spike enjoy a deep throat blowjob while he stood by pulling on his pole. But Spike wasn't ready to give up the intense pleasure afforded by Sabrina's tight throat. An argument transpired in which idle threats and insults were exchanged. These guys really were jerks. The sort of slobs that pound the table at Hooters when they want more beer. The result of their feud was totally unexpected however. Rather than either one of them relinquishing their prize, both of the hulking goons somehow managed to get their cocks into Sabrina's mouth at the same time. The look on her face was almost indescribable. It looked like the face of an angel being transported to heaven or sucked into hell. Her mascara ran in thick streaks down her cheeks and drool oozed from the corners of her mouth. Yet she was still radiantly beautiful. At that point I decided it was time to experience her butthole. I gently positioned her so that she was on her hands and knees. That way she could still take Mike and Spike's cocks down her throat. Her butthole looked as appetizing as ever. I put the head of my cock against the tight opening and began to push. The tight ring of her sphincter stretched to accept me. I grabbed a hold of her hips and rammed my cock inside her. Yes, I remember the warning about being too rough. But if I recall correctly, it was for Mike and Spike. Surely she could take an average-sized cock being rammed up her ass. And if not, well, she always had the safe word, or the safe phrase as the case may be. A troubling thought occurred to me just then. If Sabrina were to need respite from our relentless sodomy it would be impossible for her to say the safe-phrase while Mike and Spike's cocks were in her mouth. "Hold up fellas," I said soberly. "I think we need to let Sabrina catch her breath for a second. She might be trying to say the safe-phrase and we wouldn't even know it." Mike and Spike looked at each other with exasperation. The evil pair withdrew their massive dicks from Sabrina's throat. Sabrina hiccuped and spat out a long line of drool. "What are you doing?" she said angrily. "Get those cocks back down my throat!" I had to shake my head in disbelief over what a cock-hungry whore I had for a girlfriend. Then she surprised me again by looking over her shoulder at me. "And don't stop fucking my..." Before she could finish her sentence Mike rammed his cock back down her throat. I took this as my cue to keep banging her ass. Her hole was as tight as a fist. In fact it took every ounce of concentration I had not to paint her bowels with my semen. But I somehow managed to keep from cumming. As I plowed Sabrina's butthole I felt supremely pleased with myself and with life in general. From my position I could see past Sabrina's bobbing head and the goons' hunched shoulders and look out my window at the nighttime skyline of Oakland. The orange haze of street lights outlined the shadowy buildings like a holy aura. As I gazed in a trance a strange thing happened. I experienced a sudden shifting of perspective. Instead of seeing the city beyond the window, I looked at the surface. The scene in the room was reflected on the glass. I noticed with a shock that I wasn't fucking Sabrina, I was fucking Backseat Betty, my inflatable sex doll. How I'd gotten them mixed up is beyond me. Spike and Mike were nowhere to be seen. Dreams are often better than reality, especially when they're mushroom dreams. I closed my eyes and when I opened them again Mike and Spike were still face-fucking Sabrina and I was still balls-deep in her tight ass. I had the sense that I was about to blow so I guessed that the goons would be close too. I had a truly marvelous idea. "Hey fellas, let's all jerk off in this bowl and then give it to Sabrina to drink." I pulled my cock out of Sabrina's ass with a wet slurp and ran to the counter to retrieve a bowl. Then I ran back to the room where Mike and Spike were jerking off. I arrived not a moment too soon as torrents of cum started to erupt from their cocks. I managed to catch the ejaculations in the bowl. The goo swirled like quicksilver in the moonlight. Then I held the bowl between my legs and jerked off in it as well. My nuts had that glorious drained feeling. The bowl was full of warm semen. I walked over to Sabrina who knelt like an expectant slave in anticipation of her milky meal. But when I looked at her face I saw that she had turned back into Backseat Betty. Backseat Betty can't drink liquids. So I drank the contents of the bowl myself. It was delicious. I burped and fell to the kitchen floor. The bowl rolled from my hand and spilled warm milk and mushrooms onto the tiles. Through my half-lidded eyes I could see that the shadows in the room were laughing. The End Psyche's Ritual Dusk forces the sky into submission, ravaging the light into cloaked dark. My naked body trembles and I approach the robed priestess at her beckon. She extends her hand to me, her slender alabaster fingers glowing in subtle moon and starlight. I feel short and small next to her. My breath falls into my throat. This priestess in her cold silk robe intrigues me and entrances me. She has since I first came to the coven, an orphan with visions and without control of my power. It is she who tames me and teaches me how to control my energy. Energy, understanding and manipulating it, has been a thoroughly surprising undertaking. "Undress me." I do. She touches my stomach and I know she wants me to breathe deeply from my abdomen. This is the first thing she taught me when the coven took me in. I remember that my arousal and willingness is part of this energy, that she has played up her eerie beauty with glamours to enhance the learning experience. I know that I must experience this and not analyze everything now--that's now how enlightenment works. I fill my entire body with fresh night air as she wishes and surrender to the experience. She lays down and calls me to her with glinting rose quartz eyes full and focused on only me. I see another pink beauty between her spreading thighs and know that this is without a glamour or any magic: this is natural, real, beautiful. I lie with my feet parallel to her face, crackling with excitement to be near her. The hard dirt clings to me and my sweat-beaded body and I pull myself into the earth to soothe my excited energy. I share energy with the earth and feel my spine's energy flow digging in like roots and leveling my mood. Relaxing in a less conscious state, I kiss the lush ivory skin of her thighs and the natural rosy flower of her womanhood. I am cradled in her legs and reaching my tongue deeper insider her and taste her herblike juices. She touches the top of my head and I look into those pale pink eyes. She instructs me to lay down. "You must feel in your soul." Her straight blonde strands trail my nipples, fully peaked at her breathtaking presence. A fingertip brushes my slick folds. My relaxed state and my free arousal allow me to feel the waves of pleasure with my entire body and nothing else is in focus. My stomach tightens where she kisses me--she gives me cool energy that surges strength into me. Her first finger slides into me. My entire body is receptive, eases and begs her inside me. My lidded eyes are fluttering and I feel everything, intensely sensual pleasure rippling through me. Another thicker, deeper entry. Three fingers, I realize and it is affirmed by her fairy-like smirking giggle. As I writhe in pleasure the earth and dirt is a firm embrace--I move and lean into it as much as it will allow. Her fingers explore me and I both envelope and beg her with my inner sex and bloom to fit her--and urge her for more. "Uhhh" is my only verbal urge. Words, other thoughts, other sensations are all irrelevant but for the feeling of her filling me. She gives me another of those slender fingers and plunges herself inside me. My hips meet her with a rocking thrust and she brings all her fingers atop each other and toward my entrance. I am entirely attached to the energy of the earth and everything. I sink into the earth and everything cradles me. I lam lifted into the sky and the cool clouds soothe me. The unseen sun heats my skin, the slick wetness of my pleasure moisturizes me. I come and begin grounding to see her entire hand inside of me, her feminine hairless wrist contrasting with my naturally auburn bush. I feel tidal waves enveloping, engorging and engulfing my entire body and my flushing sweat becomes a nude dress of natural silk. Her hand explores my walls until I feel a still of truth and only then does she slowly empty my sex. She then presses my vision with her knowing bird glare and she brings my hands, under hers, to my abdomen. "This is your link, your womb of the earth. The power of creation and the serenity of life is in you." The moon above cradled the sky with her comforting warmth. Psyche's Surprise "Shit! They're coming! Quick, everybody hide!" That was our cue to disappear in Gayle's house and pretend that we had not been running around preparing for her husband Mike's surprise birthday party later that night. We were not finished decorating and getting all the food ready, but we weren't supposed to be. My own husband, Drew, was taking Mike out to divert his attention for a while. A smaller group of their closest friends had gathered early to help Gayle get ready. We were the core group of friends who had all gone to college together. Now in our late 30s, it had been a while since we had partied like we did during our campus days. We hoped to recapture some of that magic that night. Debbi and I ran for the coat closet following Akai. Those helping Gayle in the kitchen hid in the pantry, while the ones blowing up balloons on the upstairs landing took their decorations and went into one of the upstairs guest bedrooms. Mike and Drew would only be there long enough for Mike to change out of his racquet ball clothes and put on his Giant's jersey for the afternoon game Drew was taking him to. We wouldn't have to hide for long, but we needed to be absolutely still and not make a bit of noise. The coat closet was a tight fit for the three of us, but as we heard Mike and Drew's laughter at the front door, we didn't have time for one of us to run someplace else. We had to get out of sight fast. Someone was going to have to squat on the floor under the coats and jackets. Akai looked like he didn't want to kneel but two stern looks from Debbi and I let him know that there was no use putting up a fuss. We were both wearing skirts and heels, and there was no way we were going to squat down in that closet. On his knees he went as Debbi and I squeezed in shoulder-to-shoulder in front of him. Gayle shut us in as she went to greet her husband and his best friend at the door. We were ensconced in total darkness. I head Gayle greet Mike with a kiss as Drew began to describe their plans for the rest of the afternoon. He was doing it as much for the benefit of us in hiding as for Gayle, so that we would all know how much time we had to finish getting the house ready. It was all according to the plan Gayle had come up with. Mike's actual birthday wasn't until Tuesday and it was only Saturday. Anticipating that a large group of us would go out for dinner next weekend, we had Drew take Mike out for a day of one-on-one man time. He had no clue that his house was already full of people getting ready for a party that night. That's when we heard Mike announce that he wanted to get in a quick shower before they left again. That sure threw a wrench in our plans. They were supposed to have both showered at the gym after their racquet ball game, but this meant that we had to stay hidden for a bit longer than we'd planned. As Mike ran to his shower, Gayle peaked in on us and asked if we were ok, then she shut us back in and offered Drew something to drink. We felt Akai shifting his position behind us. "If we're going to be here for a while," he whispered, "I need to get more comfortable. I'm sitting on something that's sticking up into my butt!" "Good!" I whispered back. "You deserve a good stick up the butt," I chuckled. "Given our relative positions, I would hold my tongue if I were you, Nivia, less what I'm sitting on finds its way up your butt." "Shhh!" Debbie scolded us. "Don't you two get started." She was right, Akai and I had a history of ribbing each other and we could get out of hand quite easily. It had all started 18 years ago when the two of us worked in the same dorm cafeteria on campus. One night after our shift Akai had humiliated me so badly that deep down I had never really forgiven him for it, even though he apologized over and over for the next two years until we graduated. He swore that my humiliation wasn't his intent, but that was little consolation. We didn't speak of it any longer because I hated to be reminded of how humiliated he'd made me feel, but I never passed up an opportunity to give him shit. Truthfully, I was still hoping one day to embarrass him, if only half as bad as he had humiliated me. Even though Debbie had admonished us to be quiet, I still couldn't resist having the last word. In this instance, instead of coming up with another retort I used my heel to find his thigh behind me and pushed it into his flesh just hard enough to get a hiss out of him. I smiled to myself in the dark, thinking I had gotten the better of him, until I felt him reach up and pinch my ass, just enough to sting. The bastard! Out of all the pats of my body, he knew I was most sensitive about my butt. In fact, it was the source of my humiliation all those years ago... ***** "Akai, can we go home now?" my friend Samara asked after we had finished wiping down all the tables and cleaned out the salad bar. We had a test to study for and wanted to get an early start. It was already 8:30. Akai was the student manager, and it was his job to make sure after the dinner shift that the cafeteria was in spotless shape for the breakfast crew the next morning. The six of us who worked the dinner shift were all anxious to get out of there. "Not yet. Someone needs to stay and help me mop the floors. Samara, I think it's your turn," Akai responded. "The rest of you can go." "Aww man!" she whined. "That will take forever!" "Well, you could just ask Nivia to scoot around on her butt with a couple of wet towels. She'd finish the whole floor in just five minutes." Uncontrollable nervous laughter exploded out of everyone, except me. I couldn't believe my ears. We were used to joking around. Akai kept things light and playful on the job, and that was the best part of working there. It paid better than most all other campus jobs because most students didn't want to do food service work. We played around so much, with secret food fights, eating contests, and taking free food back to our dorms, that the three hour shifts seemed to fly by. But talking about my big butt was taking things too far. I was mortified, and Samara could see the look of horror on my face. In solidarity, she stopped her own laughter to chastise Akai. "That was cruel, Akai!" she said. A few other students nodded in agreement, trying hard to stifle their laughter, and failing. "Come on now, I wasn't trying to be mean. Having a big ass is a beautiful thing," he asserted. More chuckles from the crowd. I turned about four different shades of red. "You're not helping," Samara said. "Just shut up before you make it any worse." "Nivia," he turned to me, "I didn't mean for it to come out like that, but big bubble butts are really hot. I was giving you a compliment." Try as I could to come up with a witty reply, I was too flustered. After stammering for a moment, I just ran out. I could hear Akai pleading his case to the rest of our co-workers as I ran from the industrial kitchen. I headed straight to my dorm room, hoping to just lose myself in my course work, but that humiliation stung for a long time. I was hopelessly distracted for the rest of that night. For the rest of my time in college, I couldn't stand anyone paying any attention to my behind. In fact, if I was honest about it, the reason I felt comfortable with and became so close with Drew was because he paid absolutely no attention to my rear. He was much more into my frontal assets, and that was just perfect for me. In the cafeteria the next day, I couldn't even talk to Akai, though he tried to make light conversation with me numerous times. At the end of our shift, he didn't even bother looking in my direction when looking for someone to mop. I left without a word. Later that night there was a knock on my door. It was Akai. "I came to make sure we're cool, Nivia" he said when I opened the door. "I talked to Samara and she told me that you are still pretty upset with me. So I figured I would come over and try to explain what I meant and say once more that I really wasn't trying to insult you." "I think I've heard enough of your explanations," I growled at him. "Just give me five minutes," he pleaded. I relented and let him come in. He went on and on but it was all in one ear and out the other as far as I was concerned. When someone touches a nerve of your deepest insecurities, it's hard to entertain any notion that your fears about your shortcomings are irrational. Perhaps what bothered me most was that he never actually said he was sorry, but just kept going on about how having a big butt was a good thing, not a bad one. Out of pride to not let on just how deeply I'd been cut, I said that all between us was well, but in my heart I was still smarting. But that was the start of our têt-a-têt and from then on, at every opportunity I gave him shit. It never got ugly or deeply personal, but all of our friends knew that if we were in a room together that we'd rib each other relentlessly to see who could get more people laughing at the other. Though he never again teased me about my butt, every once-in-a-while I would turn around and find Akai's eyes glued to my rear end. Caught like a kid sneaking candy after being forbidden to do so, at those instances Akai would let his guard down and look at me with lust filled eyes and a sinister smile. "Nivia, you really should let me show you just how sexy that thing you're sitting on is," he'd say. "Dream on," I'd tell him. I reckoned that he was one of those guys who liked to spank a girl or slap her on the ass during sex, and I had no interest in such a thing. It was unmistakable in my tone that I would never let him anywhere near my butt. Lord knows I could never bend over when he was anywhere around. If I did, it was like inviting his stares. To his credit, no matter how many times I'd rebuff what I interpreted as his pathetic attempts to make me feel better about my ass, he never stopped trying. "Tsk, tsk, tsk," he'd say, almost under his breath, shaking his head at me. The look in his eyes would convey that I just didn't know what I was missing. I had no desire to know any such thing. He stopped asking once I started seriously dating Drew in my junior year. Akai was a senior, and we both still worked in the cafeteria, but Drew was one of his friends and he didn't want to be disrespectful. But he never stopped looking. If I caught him staring at it, he'd just smile a wicked smile and turn away. That continued after college and through both of our marriages. He was so slick about it. Neither Drew nor Akai's wife Alicia ever seemed to catch him doing it but if we were alone, or if his line of sight was just right, I could bet money on where his eyes would be. ****** That was the shared history we brought with us into Mike's and Gayle's dark cramped closet that afternoon. When he pinched my butt, I felt all the old sting of how he'd first humiliated me almost 20 years ago come rushing back into my mind. Without thinking I took my heel and dug it into his thigh even harder. Undeterred, his right hand reached up to join his left and he pinched me on both cheeks simultaneously. I pushed back with my butt to try and shake his hands away and I felt my right cheek make contact with the left side of his face. A wicked idea came to mind and I braced myself against the door jamb and pushed back into his face even harder. 'That'll teach him,' I thought to myself. 'I'll make him sit trapped in this closet for the next 5 minutes with my ass shoved in his face and see how he likes it.' So I pushed back hard. Taking him by surprise, I felt him squirm trying to get his face out of my butt. I was relentless and kept it pressed firmly into him. In whatever direction I felt his face move, my butt was there to greet it. A chuckle escaped out of me, too tickled with what I was doing. Debbie heard my tiny laughter and our commotion and shushed us again. "You two are going to get us caught!" she admonished, poking me in the ribs. She was right so I relented. Satisfied that I got the better of him this time, I straightened my back and pulled my ass out of Akai's face. Almost immediately, two strong hands came up to grab each of my hips and pulled me back. I froze. With a tight grip, Akai held my waist firmly in place and then slowly resumed rubbing his face all over my backside. Like he liked it! At first I was just shocked. I was genuinely perplexed at why anyone would voluntarily do such a thing. 'Eww!' I thought. If he was trying to humiliate me again, it was sure a weird way of doing it. When he didn't stop right away I began to feel uncomfortable. My ass was my biggest insecurity about myself and he knew it. What was he trying to prove? Once it became clear that he had no plans of stopping, it finally dawned on me: he was actually enjoying it! A million thoughts raced through my mind. I didn't want to raise a commotion and clue Debbie into what was going on. I also didn't want Gayle or Mike to hear any rumblings in the closet and ruin the surprise party. For that matter, I didn't want Drew to hear mysterious rumblings in the closet and get the wrong idea if he saw us come out. My shocked inaction provided an opening for Akai to escalate things that really sent my heart racing in a flurry of mixed emotions. The hands that were around my waist slowly moved back to join his face. I stood aghast and incredulous at his gall and audacity as he began palming my ass and then squeezing it. Soon I was on the receiving end of a full-out deep tissue butt massage, all while he continued to rub his face up and down along my crack. Things had turned weirdly sexual, and I was at a loss for what to do about it. With a sudden jolt of my hips I pushed his face back, but Akai was determined and within a split second his face was right back in my butt. His hands never left, kneading my cheeks with his strong fingers, meeting the resistance of the lifetime of tension I held confined in those muscles. I'm sure I knew subconsciously, but my conscious mind had no idea how much anxiety I held in my glutes, trapped like a tightly wound spring of kinetic energy searching for release. I was therefore equally shocked at the very visceral reaction my body had to this attention. The release of tension felt good -- damn good -- and I struggled emotionally with the conflict raging in my head while I stood there. Half my brain screamed 'STOP! Nivia, what the hell are you doing?' The other half wanted him to do it harder. I really got nervous when I realized that the release of tension centered around my deepest insecurity was having a profound effect on my mind and body. Surprisingly, I found myself responding to Akai's ministrations. With his relentless kneading and pulling he turned raw, stiff dough soft and pliant, and I felt the weight of so much pent up anxiety began to slowly seep out of me from behind. The nervous energy released from my cheeks turned into a subtle heat that settled in my core. In shame I felt a pool of moisture forming between my lips and realized this had gone way too far. I needed to stop things before both Akai and Debbie sensed exactly what was going on between my legs. As if sensing all my fears, I heard a double whiff intake of breath arise from behind me, testing the air for the hint of musk that would surely give me away if detected. I held my legs together tight, and all the muscles in my lower body tensed. On my trail like a blood hound, I felt Akai press his nose into the lower cleft of my backside and then heard him inhale deeply. "Mmmm," he groaned, barely audibly, confirming his suspicion of my arousal. "Stop it!" I hissed in a whisper. "Uh-uh," he whispered back. And then a low chuckle, mocking me for enjoying his ministrations. "What the hell is going on with you two?!" Debbie whispered. "You both need to quit." But Akai was determined. It was as if getting a whiff of the musky aroma of my excitement had given him license to be even bolder, and suddenly one of his hands began snaking its way up my skirt. That was the last straw; I had to put a stop to him right then and there. I reasoned that if the heel of my stiletto digging into his thigh was not enough to make him quit, then maybe some pressure applied to more sensitive parts would suffice. I didn't want to truly hurt him, however, just show him that I meant business. So I slipped off my heel and reached back with my foot. I found one thigh and then the other, positioning my foot between them, then moved it back to the junction where the two met. I had simply planned to gently locate his balls and then apply pressure until he stopped violating me. Instead, I found a big surprise. A long solid shaft of tumescent flesh greeted my foot! What he was doing to me had excited him. Making contact with my foot I felt it throbbing beneath his pants! A low, guttural "mmmm" escaped from my own lips before I could stop myself. To make matters worse, I had let my guard down. No longer clenching my thighs together, the hand that was worming its way up my skirt made contact with the damp gusset of my panties. My mind was swimming, and I was by then in a full on panic. Outside, Gayle was telling Mike and Drew to have fun at their game. I heard my husband's voice, right outside the closet door, telling Gayle approximately what time the boys would be back. Meanwhile, my arch nemesis had his hand up my skirt and was pulling the wet crotch of my thong to the side, seeking out the source of its moisture. He found it, and a long thick finger slid right up into my folds just as Gayle announced that we were all clear to come out. Akai slid his finger in and out of me a few times in quick succession and then withdrew it, just as Gayle opened the closet door to let us out. Debbie stumbled out first as I tried to compose myself. Gayle held the door open for me as I adjusted my skirt and walked out. I saw her nose twitch, and I wondered if she could smell the evidence of what Akai had just done to me. I didn't look back, I couldn't look back. I went straight to the kitchen without turning around and got back to making trays of hors d'oeuvres. I was flustered and ashamed of myself, unable to concentrate on what I was doing. I was mad at myself for letting it happen, mad at myself for enjoying it, and then mad at myself for not being able to forget about it. Eventually I looked up and caught sight of Akai. His hand was near his face, holding his chin, playing with the hairs on his goatee. Once he noticed me looking at him he placed his middle finger right under his nose, and I just knew it was the finger that had been inside of me. He was directly mocking me then, and to add insult to injury, he briefly and discretely slipped the finger into his mouth. He winked at me, savoring the flavor he found. A shudder ran through me, and a fresh wave of moisture seeped out of my core. I went back to preparing food trays, feeling increasingly guilty and angry at myself for not being able to stop looking at him. Every time I did, he was sure to let me know how much he was enjoying my smell and my taste. "Earth to Nivia, anybody home?" Gayle asked me, noticing my distracted demeanor. Everyone else was laughing and joking, reminiscing about old times, while I chopped vegetables in silence. "Girl, I know, I have a million things on my mind," I lied. In reality, I had one thing on my mind that I couldn't shake. Finally, I couldn't take it any longer. When I saw Akai excuse himself to go to the restroom, I followed him. I checked to make sure no one was looking and then slipped into the restroom behind him. He was peeing, and didn't even seem surprised when he heard me walk in. I stood with my back against the door, scared to move and unsure what to say. I watched his arm shake, indicating the end of his release, and he finally turned around to face me. He had not tucked himself back into his pants. I made a commitment to myself that I wouldn't look down. No matter what. Psyche's Surprise "What the hell has gotten into you?!" I asked finally, locking onto his eyes and refusing to look away. "You started it," he replied with a sly smile. "You took it way too far!" "Did I?" he asked. "From what I could tell, I didn't go far enough." "You're friends with my husband!" I exclaimed. "I couldn't help it. I've always tried to tell you how sexy your ass is. You should be careful before sticking that thing in someone's face." "I wasn't doing it for you to enjoy, you sicko," I scolded him. "It was supposed to be a joke!" "Are you sure?" he challenged me. "Yes! You were supposed to be grossed out for having to sit with my butt pushed in your face for 10 minutes. It was payback!" "Come on now, Nivia," he said, shaking his head. "A guy's been ogling your ass for the past 18 years and you really think he'd be grossed out from having it in his face? You can try to lie to yourself but we both know the truth: the reason you're upset is not because of what I did but because you liked it." "THAT did not happen!" I admonished him. "Oh yes it did, and I've got proof," he said, voice deepening. He drew his finger with my DNA all over it back to his face and took a long sniff before once again placing it in his mouth, this time sucking it thoroughly. "Sweet, delicious proof," he continued once his digit was back out of his mouth and again under his nose. "You see the effect it has on me?" In a split second of weakness I looked, cursing myself for my feeble resolve. Over a matter of seconds I watched his flaccid, floppy penis grow into a marvelously hard cock, standing at full attention in salute of me. All from the smell and taste of my pussy. It had been a long time since a man had responded to me in such a visceral way, especially one so fit and good looking. At 39, Akai was still in great shape. Who knew he was hiding such a magnificent dick?! Involuntary muscle contractions wracked my lower half, and I felt my lips slide together from all the slick moisture gathering down there. "Put that away," was all I could manage to say. But there was no conviction in my voice as I stared at it, and licked the corner of my mouth to stop any drool from escaping. He didn't obey. Instead, he took a step closer to me. "AKAI..." I warned him, my voice rising in urgency. He ignored me and took one more step in my direction, closing the gap between us. His dick was pointed right at my crotch. An inch closer and it would be touching me. I put my hand on his chest to keep him at bay. "Look at me," he said softly, but it was hard to tear my eyes away as he stroked his rock-hard shaft right in front of me. Finally, I found my strength and turned my gaze back up to his face. I could just make out the faint smell of my pussy on his breath. "I know I hurt you when I made fun of your butt all those years ago," he said in a conciliatory tone, "but you and I have never talked about why it bothered you so much." "You humiliated me," I admitted, letting my guard down after all these years. "Embarrassed maybe, but if you felt humiliated it wasn't because of what I said. It was because it came from me." "What are you talking about, Akai?" "We had something," he began. I looked upon him dumbfounded, still acutely aware of the hard phallus pointed at my pussy. I swear I could feel the heat radiating off of it. I tried to just concentrate on what he was saying but that was difficult to say the least. "I liked you, thought you were damn cute and funny. Plus you were smart. I especially respected the fact that you never thought you were better than the off-campus guys from the 'hood who worked in the dish room. That's how I knew you were cool. Your sexy phat ass was just an added bonus to an already great package. But I was dating someone, and I was just thinking about breaking things off with her to ask you out when 'the butt joke' happened. I knew you were pissed at me, and I knew there was no way that you'd go out with me after that." I stood there floored, trying to make sense of all that was just told to me. I thought back to my freshman year before the humiliation and tried to search my feelings to see what truth lay in his words. Had I liked him? I remembered thinking he was funny, and attractive in his own quirky way. I guess I looked up to him, but all of us who worked in the cafeteria did. Then I remembered only signing up for the shifts where he was also working as the student manager, because the job just wasn't any fun without him there. He took me under his wing when I first started working there, and that made me feel special. Would I have gone out with him? Probably. But I couldn't say if I had a crush on him. As a freshmen I remember thinking that there were tons of cute guys all over, but I was overwhelmed trying to discern who was worth my time. There were predatory upperclassmen who tried to hit on all the naïve freshmen girls, trying to make an easy score. I didn't want to be a victim of that. All of that didn't really matter. However I may have felt back then, I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he was that important to me. "You're delusional," I told him, shaking my head. "Yeah, you humiliated me that day but that was because of my own insecurities, it had nothing to do with you." I tried to be as convincing as possible in that assertion. Akai studied my face intently, looking for any bit of nervous energy in my eyes -- a sign that I was lying. Finally his body language changed. He took a step back and slowly put away his deflating cock. "Nevertheless," he sighed, "I'm sorry." And there it was, the full apology I had been looking for 18 years ago but never received. It felt like a long-held tension was released somewhere deep within me. "But I'm not sorry in the way you think," he continued. "I'm sorry for not having a better way to flirt with you back then, and I'm sorry for not asking you out as soon as I met you. But hopefully I've convinced you today that that juicy ass of yours should be a thing of pride, not a thing of shame." Akai washed his hands while I stood in shock, seeing him and our history in a new light. After he dried his hands he turned to face me. I stood with my back against the door, holding me up on shaky legs. "Are you gonna let me out, or is there something else you need?" he asked, flirtatious smile still adorning his face. Speechless, I stepped aside and let him out, concealing my presence in there with him behind the door. I shut the door and locked it behind him, then went to pee myself. When I pulled down my panties, they were a sodden mess. I sat atop the porcelain bowl with my head in my hands as I released my bladder and tried to make sense of what I was feeling. On the one hand, I was proud of myself for narrowly avoiding doing something that could have ruined my marriage. On the other hand, my body was a throbbing muddle of unfulfilled desire and my head was swirling with conflicting emotions. I ran my fingers across my vulva and found that my arousal had seeped all over. I couldn't resist bringing my coated fingers up to my face and smelling the heady pheromonal cocktail that had brought Akai to glorious full attention. As I remembered his beautiful flesh in my mind, my pussy contracted, signaling her discontent that I let it leave the room instead of stuffing it inside of her. I contemplated taking five minutes and masturbating right there in Gayle's bathroom but then thought better of it. At that point, my fingers wouldn't satisfy me. Plus, Gayle needed me out there helping get everything ready. The boys would be back soon and as her best friend, I was her right hand. I decided I would just have to wait for release. One thing was for sure, though: as soon as Drew and I got home that night, I was gonna fuck his brains out. It felt wrong, actively planning to fuck my husband while fantasizing about another man, but that seemed better than adultery. I hurriedly cleaned myself up then went back to join the growing crowd of friends who were now arriving in droves to surprise Mike once he and Drew returned from their Giant's game. I did my best to make small talk with everyone as we put the last decorative touches on the house. Truthfully, I was still distracted but I had a new sense of resolve. That is, up until the drinks started being served. Satisfied that all the food and decorations were in order, Gayle started making pitchers of margaritas. We knew the boys would be drinking beers at the game, and we wanted to be in a matching mood when they returned. She used generous amounts of Patrón and Cointreau then topped them off with a splash of Amaretto and served them on the rocks with salt. Pure perfection. Since Mike was turning 40 she'd figured she could splurge for top shelf. After a couple of those I was much less tense. I was feeling festive and no longer distracted by my earlier dalliance, and that was a good thing. So I thought... Maybe I let my guard down. The kitchen grew crowded where we were gathered, drinking and toasting while we awaited Drew's text that they were on their way home. At some point Akai came through the crowd needing to pass me on his way to the refrigerator. As he did I felt a hand discretely slide across my ass and give it a squeeze. I nearly jumped out of my skin and almost spilled my margarita all over Chris, another one of our friends from college. I looked in Akai's direction but he never looked back at me, never acknowledge that he was the guilty party. I turned and started talking to Larissa, one of our more recent friends. From that angle, I could keep a better eye on Akai and make sure that I didn't present my back to him. When he was on his way back from the fridge, he paused right next to me to talk to Chris. We stood shoulder to shoulder for a second until the natural shifting of the crowd had us back to back. I tensed at what I thought was coming but when it didn't happen right away I thought for sure his senses had finally come to him. Oh how wrong I was! Once Akai was finished shaking hands and giving pounds to all those gathered around us, the hand not holding his drink subtly slipped behind his back and took a firm grip of my ass cheek, discretely hidden from anyone's view. I didn't want to slap his hand away and make a scene for fear that a guilty look of enjoyment on my face might implicate me in his indiscretion. But I also didn't want to not do anything and risk someone seeing and thinking that I was OK with it. As I contemplated how to respond, Akai took my lack of immediate action as his green light and for the second time that evening began a deep tissue massage of my ass. I was appalled at his boldness, to paw at me like that in a room crowded with all of our friends. But to my shame, my body found the naughty dangerous nature of the act extremely arousing. If I didn't get away from him soon there'd be a trickle of nervous excitement running down my thighs, and it wouldn't be sweat. "Let's go sit in the living room," I said to Larissa, grabbing her hand. I pulled her out of the kitchen without waiting for her reply. "I was getting claustrophobic in there," I lied. No sooner had we sat down before Gayle announced that the boys were on their way home and would be there in 10 minutes. She gathered us around to give us our final instructions. She wanted Mike all the way in the house before we jumped out and yelled 'SURPRISE!', so we were going to turn all the lights out and hide again. We didn't all need to be completely tucked away, just out of the foyer and not visible from the living room. Some folks hid in the downstairs bathroom, some in the kitchen, some out the back door to the backyard, and a few more out the side door to the garage. Akai ran straight to the coat closet and caught my eye as he did so. The look he gave me challenged me to go join him. He wanted more and suspected I wanted to give it to him. I had but a split second to decide as I saw Chris begin to make his way for the closet as well. I quickly stepped in behind Akai then turned and told Chris a half truth that would surely damn my soul to hell. "There's only room for two people to stand up in here," I said, omitting the fact that Akai had no plans of standing. The last thing I wanted was another audience. Chris took the hint and hid somewhere else. I quickly pulled the closet door shut to close us in. Still standing, Akai began to squat when I grabbed his arm and pulled him back upright. "Listen," I whispered. My tone was stern. "No fingers inside me," I insisted, composing a plan on the fly. Sometime during the thirty seconds since I had made the rash decision to go back into that closet, I reasoned that it was ok to let Akai get me all worked up as long as my resolve was strong that the end result would only be me going home to fuck my husband with a wetter pussy. That way, everyone would win. Akai would get to play with what he desired, I'd get the extra attention I was craving, and my husband would get the best fuck he'd had in five years. The only problem was that I don't think it was my mind that did the reasoning, so the plan might have had a few holes in it. "Do you understand?" I asked him, nails slightly digging into his wonderfully firm bicep. "Yes," he replied simply. "Do you swear? Don't break my trust, Akai." "I promise, no fingers," he whispered back. I let his arm go as we heard the last of the party guests scramble off to their hiding places. Akai immediately sunk to his knees and scooted behind me. We had about five minutes. I leaned over a bit and arched my back in eager anticipation, anxious for his strong fingers to return to my haunches and work their magic. I should have known better. Cool air swirled around my thighs as the hem of my dress was quickly pulled up and draped around my waist, exposing my full backside. It was pitch black without even a tiny sliver of light so he used his lips to see. Thick plush lips rained soft kisses along my exposed flesh, raising my skin in a sea of little bumps of nervous excitement. He kissed every inch of each of my globes, getting dangerously close to the crack but never breaching it. Akai Anthony Anderson was kissing my ass, and it felt wonderful. The only problem was that in my mind, it was supposed to be an act of humiliation for him. In reality, it was an act of lust that I couldn't truthfully say was one sided. It was growing dangerously out of hand. Soft kisses became mischievous licks, laving my flesh in tender affection. The part of me of which I was most ashamed, the part which felt the most unattractive, was being loved and worshipped. My body melted in response. Akai's breathing grew heavier and I knew he was relishing my musky scent. As my pussy got wetter, I began to smell it myself. Suddenly I felt a hand on the small of my back arching it further. In the next instant his nose and lips were nuzzling into the wet gusset of my thong, inhaling deeply. I let out a long hiss, feeling his face make forbidden contact with my sex. It had been 17 years since anyone other than Drew had touched me there. "My god, Nivia!" I heard him whisper as his senses drowned in the funky scent of both my little holes. Guilt and desire waged a war to the death inside my head. Finally, my hips pushed back into Akai's face, signaling desire's edge. I wasn't sure what it was the first time it happened. Even after the second time I convinced myself that I needed a little added confirmation. I pushed back a little further and heard Akai grunt as his tongue came out and give a long firm lick to the outside of my panties, the part covering my leaking pussy. I shuddered and we both groaned as he tasted me. I should have stopped things there but I couldn't quite find the willpower to stand erect and pull my dress down. Instead, my hips started gyrating against his visage, searching... craving more. I was acutely aware that there was only a thin sliver of fabric separating us from adultery, a slippery Clintonian technicality if there ever was one. Warm exhalations from his nostrils blew over my sensitive anus sending chills up my back while his lips began to suck out the warm juices absorbed in the crotch of my panties. "Oh fuck," slipped from my lips. I was wildly turned on by his nasty enjoyment of being smothered in my ass while tasting my leaking sex. Looking back, if I could pinpoint an instance where we should have stopped and gone no further, it was right there. But we were both reaching a point of critical lust from which it is nearly impossible to turn back. Strong hands separated my cheeks and Akai nudged his face in further, licking a trail that went from the crotch of my panties up along the thong to the waistband. I could feel his tongue making contact with my warm musky flesh on either side of the narrow fabric, the last flimsy barrier guarding my fidelity. Then in the blink of an eye, even that was gone. My eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when I felt the thin wisps of material that were protecting my last bit of virtue suddenly pooled around my ankles. "Akai! You promised!" I hissed at him, simultaneously lifting my right ankle to step out of my thong and spreading my stance a bit. "And I keep my promises," he whispered as his hands returned to my ass and began kneading my cheeks before spreading them again. I felt the heat from his skin and warmth of his breath as he drew to within a few millimeters of me, and I tensed up in anticipation. He held me in agonizing suspense as he pried me open and took a minute to just breathe me in. I could feel my nectar oozing down the inside of my thigh and I knew he was filling his lungs with my pungency. It was like he was testing both of us to see who could hold out the longest. I don't know who broke first. "I swear, no fingers inside you" was the last thing he managed to say before his face was buried in me, muzzling all further sound. I couldn't believe what we were doing, I couldn't believe I was letting it happen, but it felt too good to stop. Akai lapped my pussy hungrily, with his nose pressed tightly against my dirty little anus. I found myself rutting against him, rushing toward my orgasm knowing that we had little time. His tongue was wonderfully dexterous, sliding deeply inside my gooey hole before searching out my clitoris and swirling over it. He was greedy with my sex as he slurped up my juices, and I worried that someone would hear us outside the closet as he drank hungrily from my body. Back and forth he went, tasting me, drinking me, smelling me, driving me crazy. "They'll be here any minute, guys," we heard Gayle yell from somewhere inside the house. I was close, and in spite of my better judgment I desperately wanted to cum all over his face. A couple of fingers thrust inside of me would have done the trick, and I cursed myself for making him promise to do no such thing. I began to grind against his face, almost there, racing toward my climax. "Ok, they're pulling up now. Two more minutes!" Gayle called out. That's when my convulsions started. They began in my center, then went down to my toes before surging back up, wracking my upper body. I felt a gush of fresh nectar leak from my molten center and Akai's mouth was right there, sucking and licking up every drop. Then he did something that shocked the holy shit out of me. Holding me spread open wide, just as my orgasm was subsiding Akai withdrew his tongue from my gushing pussy and moved it up an inch. Centering it on my crinkly little folds, he paused ever so briefly trying to push the tip inside. I stood dumbfounded with my mouth agape as we heard the front door open signaling Mike and Drew's arrival. My husband stood a mere five feet from where I was hidden in that closet, while another man was trying to tongue-fuck my ass. I felt so dirty, so wrong, which only drew out my orgasm further. I bit into my forearm to silence the cry of ecstasy trying to escape my lungs. Psyche's Surprise Akai took the last second to briefly swirl the tip of his tongue around inside my tight musky hole before withdrawing just as briefly and pulling my dress back down. At that very second we heard Gayle ask our husbands who won the game, which was our cue. I was still recovering, but Akai pushed the closet door open and pushed us both out of the closet, just in time to yell 'surprise' with the rest of the gang. We definitely caught Mike off-guard, but I'm quite certain that the look of raw shock and awe on my face paled in comparison to his. We all lined up to hug Mike before my husband, Drew, came over to kiss me hello. "You ok?" he asked me. "Of course! Why?" I asked, trying not to sound nervous about the fact that I had just had an orgasm from one of our good friends thoroughly eating me out and that I was standing before him with no panties on. "You're flushed and all sweaty," he replied. "It was hot in that closet!" I recovered. "You guys took forever to get here after you called." "Hey," he complained, "I did just what Gayle told me. If we got here and you all weren't ready, I wasn't gonna have anyone blaming me!" "Don't get defensive baby," I soothed, "I'm just letting you know what happened. Plus, we started drinking about an hour ago. We knew you would have had a few beers, and we wanted to be in full party mode when you got here." It was only out of pure adrenaline and fear that I was able to keep a conversation going with him at that point, as clouded as my head remained. I quickly glanced over at Akai only to see that he was laughing and joking in a completely relaxed manner. I couldn't believe that he could be so nonchalant about what we had just done. I prayed that he didn't get to close to anyone less they smell my pussy all over his face. I also felt terribly exposed with nothing covering my dripping sex under my skirt. I feared that they were on the floor of Gayle's closet, and that anyone who went in there to retrieve a coat might discover them laying there in a wet heap. That would be a bit hard to explain. I palmed an earring to give myself a cover story of looking for lost jewelry in case anyone asked what I was doing, then went back to the scene of my crime to search for my incriminating undergarments. I searched frantically but they were nowhere to be found. I turned and nervously scanned the room and found Akai watching me out of the corner of his eye. He winked at me, knowing my search was in vain. Damn him! I had to spend another 40 minutes or so hanging out (in more ways than one!) and making small talk before I was able to catch Akai alone in the kitchen retrieving a beer from the fridge. "Did you take my panties?" I hissed discretely. "Got 'em right here," he said, patting the left pocket in his black jeans. "Well hand 'em over," I told him, "I can't walk around going all 'commando' for the rest of the night." "I don't think I can do that," he replied. "Akai, we had our fun, but this has to stop. I was stupid to let it go this far, putting my marriage at risk." "Relax," he said. "I'm not trying to ruin your marriage, and you weren't stupid. We've had that tension between us for almost 20 years. It needed to be released." "Fine, whatever, it's released and now we can move on so just give me my draw's already." "Don't try to give me that sarcastic attitude and act like you didn't feel it." "You cocky motherfucker..." "I didn't mean it like that," he interrupted me. Then he grabbed my hand and placed it on the bulge in the front of his jeans. If it wasn't for the large island in Gayle's kitchen, anyone in the living room would have seen me fondling him. "You feel that?" Indeed, I felt it throb beneath the denim. It was warm to the touch, and hard as stone. "I've been like that for over the last hour, smelling you on my face. Your flavor still lingers in my mouth. That's some damn good stank you got, girl," he said, licking his lips for emphasis. I had to pull my hand away as his cock grew hotter, pulsing beneath my touch. My juices were about to start flowing all over again. "I'm gonna hold on to these while I wait for you, so I can pull them out and smell that sweet funk whenever I need a reminder." "Wait for me?! Wait for me to do what?!" I asked, becoming indignant. "Wait for you to figure it out," he said simply, as if he wasn't being perfectly cryptic. "Figure what out?" My impatience was showing in my tone. "That we're not quite done yet." "Oh yes we are!" "I don't think so," he said coolly. "We just scratched the surface. There's still tension between us that needs to be relieved and sooner or later we need to face it." "Even if that were true, this is hardly the place for it!" I was starting to get heated, and grew increasingly worried that someone would see us and immediately know that we weren't engaged in mere idle party chit chat. "Look, I didn't plan for this to happen, and certainly didn't plan for it to happen like this today, here in front of all of our friends. So how it got started may have been out of our control, but we can control how and where it ends. Take all the time you need to figure it out for yourself and then when you're ready, come to me and we'll finish this." With that, he walked off to join the rest of the party leaving me flustered, frustrated, and confused. It seemed like everyone else was having a great time while I struggled to even stay focused on a single conversation. So consumed was I with lust, guilt and anger that I couldn't even enjoy myself. I was scared to have another drink after my earlier indiscretion, afraid that with more alcohol I might do something real stupid like take Akai into a spare bedroom and fuck his brains out. Finally I just had to get out of there. Even though Drew was having a good time, I told him that we needed to go before he got too tired and wasted to fuck me properly when we got home. He looked at me funny for a quick second but didn't complain. Our kids usually kept us so worn out that sex had become an exhausted once-a-week affair, usually for only about 10 minutes or so, and rarely very inspired. With our kids at their grandmother's that weekend, Drew knew it was a rare chance to get in some good lovin', so he quickly hugged Mike and Gayle and said his goodbyes to take me home. The sex wasn't even that good. It was great for Drew -- I was plenty wet and he got all excited, thinking it was all for him. I, however, was mostly frustrated: thinking about Akai, hoping Drew would do to me what Akai had done earlier, and feeling guilty for having those thoughts. Poor Drew was in an impossible position. I had conditioned him over the years to ignore my ass and pretend it didn't exist. He knew it was off limits. Now I wanted it played with, kissed and licked, but I couldn't ask him to do it. Part of me still felt that my ass was gross. I couldn't imagine any sane person wanting to do what Akai had done to me earlier. If I asked Drew to give my butt that kind of attention and he rejected me, I would have felt really stupid and even more insecure. Plus, I'd have a lot to explain. So I went unfulfilled. After it was over, Drew rolled over and fell into a coma. It was probably some of the best sleep he'd had in years. I was genuinely happy for him and pleased that I brought him pleasure. I gave him a light kiss then rolled to my side of the bed, where I tossed and turned all night. ****** Weeks went by, and every single day I found myself in an intense internal struggle. I'd pick up my phone, search for Akai's number, and almost hit 'dial' over and over again all day, each and every day. I came up with all kinds of pretenses to need to talk to him but it was no use. He and I would both know that there was only one reason for my call. Every time my phone rang I got a little excited, wishing it would be him initiating the call. I checked my email incessantly, hoping that he'd take the first step and alleviate some of my own responsibility and the complicity I'd feel if I took the first step. I took to doing my grocery shopping at the supermarket closest to his house, hoping to "accidentally" bump into him. Nothing seemed to work. I started leaving little comments on his pictures on Facebook, expecting he'd comment in response and start a conversation. He completely ignored me! That pissed me off! He knew I was trying, knew I was opening a door for him, trying to meet him halfway. And I knew he wanted me. But he was going to force me to ask for it. Finally, it wasn't my lust that got the better of me, it was anger. It happened on a Thursday morning. We had our staff meetings on Thursday mornings. It was the only day of the week I had to endure direct contact with my boss. My boss was a bitch. I hated Thursday mornings. At this particular staff meeting, I had to present on my team's progress. After my presentation, my boss lit into me with her criticisms. Usually, I'd sit there and take it then drown my sorrows in two bottles of wine after work and force poor Drew to listen to me bitch. This time, I pulled out my phone, right in the middle of the meeting while my boss was busting my ovaries. I pulled up Akai's number. "Hey asshole," I texted. "Nivia?" he responded a second later. "Where are you?" "At work. Why?" "Say you're feeling sick, and meet me at your house in 30 mins." "Seriously? I'm in the middle of some important shit," Akai protested. "Now or never, asshole," I insisted. If I was gonna to go to hell, I was going on my own terms. "Are you texting while I'm talking to you?!" my boss asked indignantly, just as Akai's response came in. I glanced down at my phone. "Yup," I answered with a smirk. "I think I'm ill. I'm going home." With that, I got up and walked out. I didn't even go back to my office. I went straight to the elevator and took it down to the parking lot, hopped into my car, and headed his way. On the drive over my conscience spoke to me and I made a devil's bargain with my Lord and Savior to justify my actions. I was only going to let Akai finish doing to me what he had started in Gayle's closet two months ago, but no more. I also vowed that there would be no kissing, as that would be too intimate to not count as cheating. If it was only oral sex and I didn't reciprocate, it wouldn't count as adultery, right? Satan must have been looking out for us because we arrived at the same time and miraculously pulled up to two empty parking spaces directly in front of his Victorian row house. It had been a while since I'd been there, not since his divorce two years prior. I got out of my car and joined him up on his porch. I stood with my pulse racing, heart in my throat, panties wet, feeling wild and crazy. If I had planned for that to be the day that I gave in, I would have waxed or something and wore some sexier undies. Oh well. He said nothing to me, just gave me a knowing smile. I wanted to sit on his face and wipe that smug smirk right off of it. My glare told him as much. His smirk grew even bigger. If I thought he was just going to get down on his knees and start worshiping my fleshy tush, I was sadly mistaken. He calmly walked over to his liquor stash and poured himself a tumbler of brandy, eying me lasciviously. Our battle of wills was obviously not over. "Well?" he asked finally, one eyebrow cocked. "If you're going to insist on being an ass about this, I can still change my mind, you know." "You started with the hostilities over the phone. 'Akai, I've missed you,' or 'I'd really like to see you' would have worked so much better." He was right. Truth was, I was using aggression to hide my nervousness. Finally standing in his living room, I wasn't sure if I could actually go through with it. I decided I would try to be honest. "This is hard for me," I explained, looking around anxiously. "It's been hard for me since I saw your text on my phone this morning," was his lustful response. I glanced down and realized that he was indeed sporting a handsome bulge. He caught me looking as my pulse quickened and the room suddenly became too hot for me. Tiny beads of sweat gathered at my temples, matching the moisture gathering in other places. "I think you could use one of these," he said finally, motioning with the glass of amber fluid in his left hand. His was served neat. For me, he stepped into the kitchen to retrieve some ice. I normally drank wine, never anything much stronger, but when Akai handed the glass of Hennessy to me, I gulped it down. "Come with me," he commanded softly after pouring me another one. He led me up the stairs and down the hall to his master bedroom suite. I stood at the threshold, trying to nurse my second drink, afraid to enter fully. It was like I thought the door might close behind me and I would never get to leave. Akai calmly ignored my nervousness as he walked over to the big glass sliding door leading out to his balcony. He drew the curtains aside, bathing the room in bright sunlight, then opened the sliding door and summoned me to join him. Akai's house was in the Haight Ashbury district of San Francisco -- he had purchased it just before the dot com boom made everything in the city unaffordable for all but the super-rich. The balcony off of his bedroom offered a breathtaking view of the city, the newly rebuilt bay bridge off in the distance. "Enjoy the view, Nivia, I'll be right back," he told me, and disappeared into the house. I stepped out into the sunlight and did as instructed. I couldn't help it really, the view was just so spectacular. There were people out, walking up and down the street. A man waved at me and I waved back nervously, as if he knew the sinful deed that lay in my near future. Akai returned with a chair and plopped it down right behind me, then promptly sat in it. I began to turn to face him when two strong hands on my hips held me in place. "Keep enjoying the view," he instructed, "and I'll do the same." I sighed and took another sip of my cocktail. Perhaps that was just what I needed -- he could ogle my ass for a bit as I continued to get some liquid courage. "Is my neighbor out there?" "There's a lot of people out here," I answered, taking another swig. "Which one's your neighbor?" "Little old white haired lady across the street, usually out watering her flowers right about now." "Yeah, she's out there." As if sensing someone talking about her, she looked over our way. "Ooh, she's waving over here." "Don't be rude," he admonished me, "wave back." I did, and nearly jumped out of my skin as I felt my skirt being lifted from the back. The balcony railing was solid, without posts, so no one could see what he was doing to me. Still, the prospect of being on public display frightened the hell out of me. My pulse quickened and my heart started racing but I made no effort to move or go inside. In fact, standing there with my lower half exposed to his lustful gaze provided an added tingle between my thighs. It was in that instant that I realized just how well attuned Akai was to my psyche. He knew I needed the distraction, and he'd figured out that the risk of being caught while we were messing around in Gayle's closet had given me a bit of an exhibitionist thrill. In the end, it's what made this encounter ultimately irresistible. Studying me for nearly 20 years, he'd figured out just how to push all my buttons. "Sister Mary Francis," I heard him say as if he were testifying in church. I looked over my shoulder to see him just sitting, staring in admiration at my ass. A shit-eating grin adorned his face as he rubbed the growing bulge between his legs. "Is that all you're gonna do, just watch?" I asked, impatiently craving the feeling of his hands and lips on me again. "No thong today, eh?" he asked, ignoring my petulance. "Coming here was not my plan when I got dressed this morning." "I see," he contemplated. "So what happened that made you decide you needed this today?" "I worked my butt off for this presentation I gave this morning," I started, getting heated just thinking about it. "That bitch ignored all the blood and sweat we put into this project and just started busting my- oh god!" Damn, that man had a way with his hands. As his thick muscular fingers dug into my flesh I could feel all the tension of the past two weeks seeping out of me. My bitch of a boss became a distant memory. "Don't stop, finish telling me the story," he said, continuing to massage my ass. "It's a bit hard to concentrate while you're doing that to me." "Would you like me to stop?" "I most certainly would not," I moaned. Reluctantly, I continued to relay my day's events while his fingers worked their magic, rolling, pressing and kneading my cheeks. About halfway through my story came an interruption. "I'm sorry, but these are in the way," he complained, tugging at the trim of my full-bottomed panties. "Take them off, then" I suggested, barely audibly. "Not yet." Instead, he pulled the fabric into my crack creating a makeshift thong, which allowed his fingers direct access to more of my flesh. I turned over my shoulder and gave him a look that read, 'what the hell are you waiting for?' He smiled. "Nivia," he began, planting a gentle kiss on each cheek, "I know you're not planning on making a habit of this. Today is a gift that may not be repeated, so I'm gonna take my time and enjoy it." What could I say to that? A girl could ask for worse in a lover. I leaned over the railing, supporting my upper torso on my forearms, and resigned myself to his pace. He continued teasing me with little kisses while his hands turned stiff muscles into soft yielding flesh. "I can smell you getting wetter," he groaned as I stood there leaking profusely. Unlike our episode in the closet, I felt this was a good development. I looked underneath me to peak at his crotch. His slacks were stiffly tented and I smiled to myself, more confident in the effect I was having on him. I arched my back and pushed my butt closer to his face offering what I hoped would be an irresistible temptation. A second later I felt the coarse short hairs on his chin scraping my tender crevice in an attempt to bury his nose in the source of my musk. My smile broadened. Unsatisfied with the cotton material blocking his access, my undies got yanked down to my ankles a moment after. I had won that battle. Akai pulled my cheeks apart as far as they would go, lewdly spreading me for his gaze. For a minute he just held me open and I knew he was studying me. My muscles clenched involuntarily from nervousness at being so wantonly displayed. I felt the ring of my anus tighten and could just barely hear the faint squish of my wet lips sliding together. "Sweet mother of God," Akai groaned before pressing his face back inside and inhaling deeply. I shuddered, feeling his warm breath blowing over both my holes. "Jesus woman... How is it possible that your ass smells so good?" I didn't have the courage to answer. The truth had to do with one of the main reasons that I was so insecure about my butt. The crevice between my cheeks was so deep that I would typically get sweaty in there during the course of a day. When I was a teenager I began to notice that when I took my clothes off at night I could smell myself getting ripe. My biggest fear became that one day I'd be getting intimate with a boyfriend who would strip me of my clothes only to get turned off because my butt crack was so musty. My insecurities about it consumed me. Consequently, I became a fanatic about my anal hygiene. At every bath I scrubbed myself thoroughly, both inside and out, to make sure I washed away every single trace of potential stink. Over the years I experimented with applying different powders, lotions and body sprays after my bath, until I was satisfied that even by the end of a long hard day I didn't offend. Psyche's Surprise In all those years my ritualized butt cleaning was never sexual in any way. That is, not until Mike's 40th birthday party when Akai changed my whole understanding of myself after 10 minutes in the closet. Not only was he not turned off by having his nose pressed directly into my ass, but he relished my scent so much that he dared go in for a taste, all too brief as it was. With one swipe of his tongue he turned my chaste and innocent anus into a very horny erogenous zone. From that day forward, my little hygiene ritual took on all new significance. Every time I inserted a soapy digit to clean myself back there, I was reminded of his tongue and how good it felt. My fingers began to linger, truthfully not just there for hygiene any more -- though I never admitted that to myself. I probably had the cleanest ass in San Francisco, and that morning was no different. I slid my soapy middle finger in and out of my ass for a good five minutes in the shower that morning while thinking of Akai, then powdered and perfumed afterward. My pussy was unwaxed but no one would ever catch me with my ass dirty. I was dying to hear Akai's groans of approval at all my hard work. I guess his question was rhetorical because he didn't wait for my answer. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding when I felt his face press back into my cleft as he pressed a tender kiss into my drooling lips. He resumed his huge intakes of air and I got a wicked thrill knowing where he was smelling me and how much he was loving it. Eyes closed, I basked in the late morning sunlight feeling a warm glow from both ends as Akai nuzzled his features further into my sex. Wrapping both arms around my thighs, he pulled me tightly to him making sure there was no escape. Still only kissing and smelling, his head began to slowly rotate and I felt my labia slide over every feature of his face, leaving a thick sheen of pussy slime in their wake. No one had ever taken such pleasure in eating me like this. He teased me mercilessly like that for what seemed like an eternity, working me to a fever pitch of desperate need. Just when I thought I couldn't take it any longer, his tongue slid deeply into my sex to provide some relief. His tongue was divine, longer than I expected it to be, and Akai sensuously worked it in and out of me, relishing my taste. He was methodical in his exploration of my sex, like a blind man feeling his way around a room for the first time; probing, touching every surface with a gentle caress. He actually ate pussy like a lesbian, not the hard and aggressive way to which I had become accustomed from most men. I let out a groan in appreciation and began to gently hump his face. By no gross oversight he was avoiding my clit. He knew I was close and didn't want to push me over the edge too quickly before enjoying me thoroughly. Releasing my thighs from his grip, his hands rose to take a firm hold of each of my ass cheeks and spread them further apart. This allowed him to push his face further into me and slide his tongue that much deeper. Satisfied at his new depth, he then pushed my cheeks closed around his face, smothering himself in my ass. His bottom lip was making the slightest contact with my clit while his nose swathed my anus in continual warm baths of air, sending chills up my spine. On and on he went -- grunting, tasting, savoring, swallowing, going back for more. My soft thighs were gripping his scruffy chin, creating the most delicious friction. My unwaxed pubic hair was prickling his lips and tongue while my tight opening fragrantly sucked at his nose. I became lightheaded and forgot where I was. One little inch. One little inch. It's such a short distance but depending on the context crossing that brief expanse can take you into a whole other world. When Akai crossed this distance, moving his lips just that much higher, I came undone. Even though it is what I had been craving for the past two months, I was still caught off guard when I felt that first flick of his tongue across my tinnier hole. I yelped and dropped the glass I was holding; a split second later came the crash on the sidewalk below. If Akai noticed it he wasn't bothered enough to stop what he was doing. I, on the other hand, went into a brief mode of panic. My eyes flew open wide as I scanned to see if anyone was looking our way in an attempt to determine what all the commotion was about. The little old lady across the street was looking dead at me, no longer bent over weeding her garden. Two pedestrians were stopped in their tracks looking up at the balcony. My skin is very tan, really a very light brown, but I must have turned three different shades of red. I tried to wave and smile as if to signal that everything was ok, but I cannot imagine what my face must have looked like, all contorted in ecstasy. It's hard to keep a straight face when a devilishly long tongue is forcing your asshole open, probing to get a better taste of you inside. This, I was not expecting. For some reason (that I feel absolutely silly and naïve about now) it never occurred to me that Akai would be so obsessed with licking inside me back there. I assumed that he would mostly just lick the outside, or maybe insert just the very tip of his tongue. God knows that felt good enough on its own. I never imagined that he was such a pervert and all these years harbored this desire to put his tongue so deep in my nasty place. A million emotions washed over me as Akai orally deflowered my most private opening. At first, I relished having him in such a subordinate position of humiliation. I couldn't imagine why he would allow himself to be so vulnerable before me, but I was going to enjoy it. Then it hit me like a two ton boulder crashing down on me. Akai was allowing himself to be so vulnerable in order to help me heal from the scars left by his unwitting exploitation of my deepest vulnerability so many years before. I thought back to the years I spent consumed with shame and embarrassment feeling that my butt was fat and ugly. Now that very same part of me was being worshipped as a thing of beauty. One after another, my greatest insecurities were licked away. I rode Akai's face up into the clouds where little cherubs greeted me and brought me to a tall, gilded gate. The gate overlooked a garden of radiant sunbeams bursting through fluffy white billows. Just basking in the warm presence of the gate was divine but I knew nirvana lay on the other side. For some reason, they weren't yet letting me enter. I begged and pleaded, shamefully desperate for release. Hearing my pleas, Akai took mercy on me and brought one hand up between my legs to my dripping sex. Deftly he inserted two fingers through my folds and into my gooey hole and began massaging my g-spot while his thumb played with my clit. His lips remained in an air-tight seal around my anus while his tongue swirled deeper inside my funky hole, and I saw stars. The gate flew open and I fell over the precipice in a free-fall dive into the purest ecstasy I've ever known. I cried out into the morning air as a dam burst inside me, not caring who might be looking at that point. The dam was both mental and physical, as I felt my emotions soar while I baptized Akai in the deluge from my pulsing sex. When I grew too sensitive and couldn't take it any longer, he withdrew his fingers and peeled his face from between my now sweaty cheeks then pulled me back to sit on his lap. He held me snugly as I gasped for breath. Then I felt his lips against my neck and his deep voice sent vibrations through my skin. "You were absolutely delicious, Nivia" he groaned and I felt his tumescent flesh throbbing beneath me, poking up into my ass through his pants. I wanted to say 'thank you' but I couldn't talk because suddenly my mouth was full - Akai had shoved two fingers coated with my pussy juices in there. I'm sure he wanted to taste it more than me but I was being tested to see if he had successfully put me into feral sex overdrive. There was not a split second of hesitation -- I sucked his fingers clean, just like a good little cunt should. He groaned, watching me devour my pussy cream and in the next split second his lips attacked me. Replacing his slimy digits, his tongue shot into my mouth. Our first kiss. The very thing I had vowed not to do. Given where his tongue had been for the last fifteen minutes, the revulsion I should have felt was overcome by the naughty thrill of tasting my most intimate flavors so pungent in his mouth. The heady cocktail stoked my fire even further as I kissed Akai passionately, hungry for more... much more. I stood up and turned to face him, then straddled his lap and sat back down. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I resumed our kiss while grinding on his sheathed cock. I wasn't going to fuck him but my pussy was sure hungry for something thicker inside of her. A little grinding would have to do until I could get home to my vibrator, I told myself. I was totally staining his slacks with the gooey mess seeping out of me but Akai didn't seem to mind. He held me close with one hand rubbing my back while the other cupped and squeezed my naked ass under my skirt. As our kiss deepened even further, Akai was holding me so tight that I had a sudden revelation: with a shock I realized that he felt a lot more for me than just lust. In that instant, everything became a lot more heavy. I stopped kissing him and looked deeply into his brown eyes, still grinding on his dick. It was like my sex had a mind of her own. So did his hands. Holding my cheeks apart he slipped a naughty finger into my forbidden passage, now well lubed with his saliva. I groaned as my head rolled back and my mouth fell open, then I pushed my hips down even harder. "Ooh, look at that," he whispered. I opened my eyes to see him staring at our junction in his lap, wide smile on his face. His shaft was like a slab of granite standing up at attention, unbending while it supported nearly half of my weight. I had totally slimed the front of his pants, so much so that his crown was actually able to slip inside me. It made for a very lewd sight, my labia draped around the head of his cock fighting valiantly to break through his trousers and get into my pussy. He knew. He didn't have to ask or command, he just stood and presented his tented crotch to me. I took his place seated in the chair as he leaned back against the balcony, then I tore at his belt and his slacks, unable to get them off fast enough. I was starving to taste that beautiful phallus that responded to my body so faithfully, just as he had shown me in Gayle's bathroom two months ago and just as I had felt pulsing beneath me a second ago. I didn't even allow him the courtesy of comfortably taking his pants and black Calvin Klein boxers all the way off. As soon as they were down past his balls, I began to devour him. I gave Akai the most inspired blowjob of my life, eager to demonstrate just how grateful I was for what he had made me feel. Our positioning was a bit awkward so I couldn't swallow him as deeply as I wanted, but I didn't let that stop me. I swirled my tongue around the pulsing knob of his swollen shaft between bobs. With each descent I could smell the intoxicating musk of his manliness and inhaled it deeply. I savored the feel of his velvety skin on my tongue and the musk so strongly concentrated in his pubes. The more of him I breathed in the more I felt my self-control fading, until I was devouring him with naked abandon. "This is all we're gonna do," I maintained as I licked and slurped up the pre cum dribbling from his tiny pee hole. "I can't let you fuck me." It was my way of telling him not to hold back, to take all the pleasure he could from my mouth because that was the only orifice of mine that his dick was getting into. I already felt guilty enough. I had to be strong and bring our little tryst to a close after I sucked him off. "Is that so?" he asked, chuckling. I almost bit him to wipe that cocky grin off of his face, but I couldn't hurt that beautiful flesh throbbing in my mouth. "I'm serious!" I insisted, pulling my lips off of him. "We can't do that to Drew." He didn't respond one way or another. Instead, he took the opportunity to kick off his shoes and finish removing his pants and boxers. Off flew his shirt next and suddenly he stood there naked before me, every stitch of his clothing piled in a heap on the balcony floor. He reached for my hand. "Come with me, Nivia," he said softly. Curiosity killed this cat. Nervous that he would try and fuck me anyway but too curious not to see what he wanted, I took his hand and stood. He led me into his bedroom then released my hand as he crawled to the middle of his king-sized bed and sat, his back propped up against the massive carved wood head board. His cock stood up proudly, still glistening with my saliva. I licked my lips and began to crawl between his legs, eager to get it back in my mouth. "Come this way," he instructed me, patting the bed by his side. "This way I can touch you while you work," he smiled innocently. I obeyed, not knowing it would be my ultimate undoing. Akai positioned me with my head in his lap and my ass up in the air, facing out toward his balcony glass doors. My skirt was lifted back up around my waist, exposing my still slimy holes to the cool crisp bay air. No one from the street could see me but if anyone across the way looked through their second story window, they'd get a view of a full moon, glistening in its crevice. I hurriedly went back to trying to force Akai's girth down my throat while his fingers found my greasy holes. First he slid one finger into my pussy and slowly worked it in and out while I bobbed dutifully in his lap. With my right hand I cupped his balls and gently squeezed them while I sucked, eager to taste the milky contents inside. He groaned, then gently began to gyrate his hips up toward my face. Then he withdrew his finger and it was my turn to groan, but with disappointment, not with pleasure. I couldn't stay disappointed with him for long though, as the sound of lip smacking let me know that he was again sampling my juices. God, that man knew how to make me feel sexy. Once he'd licked his finger clean he rubbed his hand down my back and returned to fingering me. Only this time, his middle finger slid into my pussy while his forefinger slid into my ass. I moaned again, and this time for all the right reasons. Then his ring finger joined his middle finger in my pussy, while his forefinger kept the same synchronized rhythm in my ass, playing my body like an instrument. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror across the room that sat atop his dresser. I made quite a sight: naked from the waist down, ass high up in the air spread for the world to see, getting finger fucked in both holes, and my head pushed down in Akai's lap with my mouth full of a dick that did not belong to my husband. Between my own slurps on his tool I could hear the squishy sound of his digits violating me, revealing the intense arousal that I derived from my sinful deed. I felt like such a dirty whore and hated myself for loving that feeling. My eyes next searched for his reflection, dreading the look of smug conquest that I expected to see across his face. What I encountered instead surprised me. Akai watched me with an expression of pure adoration and affection, periodically tempered with a look of raw lust every time I took his cock to the back of my throat and tried to force it past my tonsils. He didn't know I was looking at him so his guard was down, and it was in that instant that I began to realize just what he felt for me. That realization changed the tenor of our whole encounter. In her heart every girl has a desire -- some secret, some not so secret -- to be a dirty little whore for her lover. Some like to be called a dirty whore during sex, others like to be treated as one, but none of us truly want to be regarded (or disregarded) as one in our lover's heart. For Akai and I, this was the central issue in the tension between us. At the heart of our affair was his objectification of my ass -- something I initially loathed and was the source of 18 years of humiliation and shame. As much as I craved the way he was transforming my butt into a thing of beauty and source pleasure, I still wanted to be regarded as more than just a phat ass to him. This is a woman's eternal neuroses: the only thing worse than being objectified... is not being objectified. As if reading my desire for additional assurance, his free left hand came up to lovingly caress my scalp while I continued worshiping his beautiful dick. I mewed at the additional contact and showed my appreciation by moving my mouth down to his heavy balls to suck up all of my drool that ran down his shaft. I lovingly sucked each testicle into my mouth and gently rolled them around with my tongue, bathing each one in lustful affection, then licked my way back up his shaft to devour his leaky tip. I was getting to him just as much as he was getting to me, and I felt his fingers weave through my hair and tighten their grip. I braced myself and tried to relax my throat in anticipation of the face fucking that I thought was imminent and which I was more than happy to accept from him, but again Akai surprised me. He pulled my mouth completely off his cock and turned my head to face him. A stringy line of his precum, shiny like spider silk in the morning sun, hung from my bottom lip to the tip of his pee slit, and I made no attempt to remove it. I caught the briefest glimpse of a feral look of lust and hunger before he slammed his lips into mine, sliding his tongue into my mouth and kissing me long and deep. There was a ferocity to our kiss and I can't say that it was all his doing. My tongue sought out the taste and warmth of his mouth just as hungrily as his sought mine. I continued stroking him while I chewed on his succulent bottom lip as his fingers began to work faster in my holes. Pulling off the trifecta, his pinky finger began massaging my clit while his other fingers worked my pussy and ass. I saw stars and redoubled my efforts, slamming my face back down in his crotch. I had three-quarters of Akai's tumescent tool down my gullet, and I was determined to get those last two inches. I concentrated on the sensations coming from my lower half and struggled to suppress my gag reflex on my next pass, successfully taking an additional inch. I was close to cumming and I wanted to taste him when I did. Akai groaned as I struggled to breathe, tears rolling down my cheeks. I pushed myself again and again, but still couldn't get that last inch. With each attempt I felt his glans swell in my mouth, making it that much harder. In the end it didn't matter. My valiant effort and raw desire pushed him over the edge. He was releasing a constant dribble of precum into my mouth while his hips took up a steady rhythm pushing up into my face. His breathing became more labored and I knew he was past that point of no return. Right before I could join him he ripped his fingers out of my holes, denying me my joint orgasm. I tried to pull my mouth off of him to voice my protest but he was quicker than me. His left hand took a tight grip of my hair and held me in place while his right hand wiped his slimy digits across my face and under my nose, making me smell what a dirty girl I was as he began to face fuck me. With his strength he forced my head down that last inch, smashing his pubes into my face. "Yes Nivia, take all that dick baby," he croaked with his glans lodged past my esophagus and my nose full of his wiry pubic hairs. Panicking, my throat started involuntary contractions, trying desperately to swallow the thing obstructing my airway. The added suction was all he could take and I felt the surge rush from his balls and up his shaft before exploding down my throat. Psyche's Surprise "Aww fuck!" was all he could manage to say before his speech degenerated into an anguished gurgle while his balls emptied their contents straight into my tummy. I still couldn't breathe and my arms began flailing, trying to call attention to my imminent demise if not released soon. Finally Akai relented, allowing me to pull the head of his shaft out of my throat where I could concentrate on licking the underside while he finished spewing the delicious goodness I so craved. His last spurts were still strong, completely coating the inside of my mouth. His seed was thick on my tongue and I swirled it around so that all my taste buds could enjoy the different contours of his salty pungent flavor. I didn't let one drop escape, determined that I wanted take home every last bit of him inside me. When his head became too sensitive he tried to pull out of my mouth. I held onto him though, hungry for any last remnants. I stopped fluttering my tongue so as not to torture him but I continued sucking, making sure his long urethra was fully drained. I looked up at him and made eye contact while I held him in my mouth, gently cradling his still twitching shaft. He was literally putty in my mouth, and the slightest inadvertent movement of my tongue made him tremble in post-orgasmic spasms. I don't know what I expected to see in his eyes -- contentment, satisfaction, exhaustion -- but what I saw instead was enough to frighten me. There was a fire in his eyes, and I knew in that instant that whatever grandiose plans I had for limiting the extent of my adultery were shattered. I must have blinked. It happened so fast I couldn't tell you how it transpired. All I know is that in the blink of an eye our positions were reversed. One moment I was leaning over his lap, his still erect phallus twitching in my mouth, and the next moment I was on my back, legs spread high in the air, and Akai was on top of me with my ankles draped over his shoulders. He was poised to impale me but the panicked look in my eyes must have given him pause. I shook my head nervously, but I couldn't actually bring my lips to say the word 'no,' or 'don't.' He stared at me for a moment, his dark brown eyes taking me in. I must have looked a mess -- I knew my mascara would be everywhere from all the tears I shed trying to deepthroat him. I'm sure my hair and lipstick were a mess as well. He must have found it a beautiful sight, though, because slowly, very slowly, his lips came down to meet mine, still salty from the copious amount of his seed he'd just deposited there. It started as a gentle, soothing kiss, in stark contrast to the thunder beating in his chest belying the ferocious pounding he was about to deliver to my needy sex. He knew I needed it, he was just giving me time to let my mind catch up to my body. As the kiss grew in intensity, I felt his warm and sensitive tip squelching against my sodden lips, sliding back and forth over my clit and down to my hungry opening. I couldn't believe how hard he remained -- the blood pressure in his shaft was just as high then as right before he unloaded down my throat. 'Fuck, this is it,' I thought while sucking his tongue and grinding my hips up into him. Fifteen years of fidelity in marriage to a good husband had come down to this. Akai and I were going to have sex. Any pretense I had of technically not cheating on Drew with all we'd done up to that point was about to be shattered. Akai continued rubbing my pussy with his leaky cock, grinding its head against my clit in a spiral motion. Periodically he'd run it down the length of my soft folds to my opening. He must have done it more than twenty times but I lost count as the delirium set in from how horny I was. When the very tip of his cock finally wedged itself between my slick folds inside my opening, I stiffened. "Akai!" I begged, but I couldn't voice whether I was begging for him to stop or keep going. My hands flew to his chest, trying to hold him back with the last ounce of willpower I had. One shift of my hips and he'd be deep inside me. I could smell my wanton desire which hung thick in the air -- a blind deaf mute could tell how badly I wanted him in my pussy. He left his swollen glands resting at the threshold of my fidelity as I fought through my guilt, my wet labia softly clasping at the end of his penis in a perfect kiss. I wanted Akai to just do it and take the decision out of my hands as I lay there in disbelief at his restraint. Then it finally hit me. He had, and would continue to push me past every mental barrier I had save for this one. I would have to take the final step. "Lord please forgive me," I whispered and with a gentle tug and a roll of my hips I broke the vow I made to God to never let another man past that threshold save for Drew. But forbidden fruit is always the sweetest, and I swooned from the divine acquiesce to temptation as I engulfed his first few inches in my warm nectar of sin. I bore down on him, my nubile sex squelching around his hardness, determined to wring the most possible pleasure out of my iniquity. Akai emitted a low guttural growl and the look in his eyes told me that this was the fulfillment of a long-held secret desire. We held each other's gaze for what seemed like an eternity. The emotion in his eyes was so intense it made me nervous for what was coming. It was the calm before the storm. Neither of us moved, except for his bulbous head throbbing in my clenching sex. I was so wet we could hear it, tiny little squishy sounds every time he throbbed and every time I squeezed. The nasty chorus finally drew our eyes downward to take in the sexy sight of our adulterous union. With my ankles dangling over his shoulders, we could see everything. Thanks to my Italian, Moroccan and Lebanese heritage, my skin was the complexion of amber honey but my labia and nipples were much darker, matching Akai's milk chocolate hue. His veiny rod stood proudly protruding from my hungry lips that clung to him wetly. He looked like he'd been dipped in fondue, still wet from all my saliva. My breathing labored as my resolve crumbled, and my hands released his chest and slid around to grip his taught sexy buttocks. I trembled with anticipation, unable to believe this was really happening. Finally one of his hands slid under me to cradle my head to hold that position, making sure I didn't look away as he slowly sliced his full length into me. That first full stroke of infidelity was like having my cherry popped, except with all of the forbidden pleasure and none of the pain. My hips bucked up to meet his full length as my fingers dug into his muscular ass and pulled him into me tighter, relishing the sweet taboo of his dick buried so deep inside me. We both cried out in ecstasy. He filled me oh so nicely -- I felt fuller than I'd been in a very long time. Sensing this, Akai gave me time to adjust, grinding his pubes into my clit, leaving little pearls of my nectar clinging to each curly hair. He slowly withdrew until just his tip remained between my lips and then slammed back into me. The sharp nip of pain from his head hitting my cervix let me know that he had not been all the way inside me the first time. I bit into his shoulder, warning him to be gentler and slower but I was too late. I felt all the kinetic energy in his muscles and knew he needed to pound me. And just like that he was fucking me... hard, slamming into my tender pussy with wild abandon. I lost my composure as all manner of obscenities escaped my lips. I didn't care. I was a bitch in heat by that point. His fingers working me while I sucked him off had seen to that. By not letting me cum at the same time that he was unloading down my throat, he'd left me feeling slutty and vulnerable, and trembling in desperate need. It was a terrifying yet masterful manipulation of my psyche. More than any other person on the face of this earth, he knew how to push my buttons to give us both what we needed. His strokes were relentless. Because I had already sucked him off, he could pound me hard and deep with no threat of blowing another load anytime soon. My eyes stayed glued to the pornographic scene taking place between us as his shiny shaft pistoned in and out of me, each stroke lathering him in a thick fresh coat of the juices leaking profusely from my adulterous cunt. A tug on my long black mane broke my mesmerized stare, bringing my eyes up to focus on his. Akai held my gaze as he fucked me, watching intently as my eyes registered the sweet sting of his bulbous head abusing my cervix. Then his eyes traveled down the slightest bit, observing my lips as they trembled with every grunt that escaped them. In the next instant we were kissing furiously as he mauled my mouth with his own. The tastes of my ass and pussy still saturated his tongue, and the combined mental, oral, and physical onslaught became just too much for me. It didn't come on gradually, but slammed into me in a sensory overload. For the third time that morning I was cumming. Grunting, reaching, clawing, convulsing -- through it all Akai kept pounding me, doggedly plundering my drooling snatch. He slowed his pace just a bit only to slam into me even harder, punctuating each stroke to produce successive convulsions. With one final lunge he struck home, and held himself in me balls deep while I rode out my final spasms, back arched up into the air. When it was over my muscles turned to jelly and I collapsed on the bed, mouth agape, panting and sweating. There was quiet after the storm, as all of nature's fury turned gentle, loving and sweet. Akai lowered my legs to give them a rest and I curled them around his thighs to keep him inside me. I didn't have enough energy to fully lock them around his waist. I need not have worried, though, because he had no plans of withdrawing from me. He hadn't cum again, so he was still very hard and pulsing deep inside my tender sex, making my pussy twitch in response to each of his throbs. He brought himself down to his elbows, folding his forearms underneath me, and rained soft and gentle kisses all over my face. In that position, a good three-quarters of his weight was on me -- which I loved -- just enough to make me feel smothered in his warmth but not too much that I couldn't breathe. Once I'd fully caught my breath and come down from my high, his throbs turned into a slow grind. When his lips found mine again and his tongue slid into my mouth, those grinds turned into full out gentle lovemaking. My body responded in kind but my guilt came rushing back to me, further compounded by this new turn of events. All the things I had told and promised to myself to temper the seriousness of my sinful infidelity were gone out the window. I came to his place with the plan of just letting him orally service me but not returning the favor. I wasn't supposed to kiss him, and definitely wouldn't let him fuck me. Now we were actually making love and it wasn't one-sided. Feelings I never knew I had were unleashed from somewhere deep inside me. I returned his kiss with my heart fully open, clinging to him tightly as he worked my body back into heat with each gentle long stroke inside of me. I would never be able to lie to myself and say that this was a meaningless fuck -- it was adultery of the first degree. We made love like that for a good ten minutes, gentle and loving, rolling back and forth, giving me a chance to be on top. Eventually I wanted to feel the magnificent power and the rush of him pounding me again, and the look in my eyes and my changed breathing told him as much. Akai gently pulled me off of him and told me to get on my knees and stick my ass up in the air. I complied of course, but his cock looked so shiny and delicious still standing at full attention that I couldn't resist stopping to suck it down and taste our combined juices off of it. He groaned when I took him deep, swirling my tongue to dutifully clean the sticky mess I'd left all over him, then he groaned again when just as abruptly I stopped and bent to my assigned task. As Akai moved behind me I thought he would plow right into me but apparently the sight of all my goodies displayed so lewdly proved an irresistible temptation to him as well. Suddenly his face was back between my cheeks as he gave one slow lick from my clit, deep into my pussy, up over my taint, deep into my asshole, all the way up the top of my crack, then repeated the same in reverse back down to my clit. As I shivered from the divine sensations he speared me again, but didn't start fucking me just yet. I thought he was just letting me adjust, because he got much deeper in my pussy from that position, and I knew my womb was in for a bruising. As I felt his hands spreading my cheeks as wide apart as possible, I suspected he had other ideas. "That is SO fucking sexy," he growled, taking a deep breath. My muscles twitched nervously under his inspection as he smelled me, afraid of what he might do to me. Confirming my suspicions, an exploring thumb began to caress and rub around my tiny orifice, making what we were doing feel that much dirtier and all the more wrong. The thumb disappeared for a second then came back wet. It didn't just caress this time, but gently slid inside. I hissed at the intrusion. Akai kept it buried in there as he resumed fucking me. More surprising was to find out that he hadn't done it to stimulate me, but to possess me. He used his thumb-hold up my ass for a better grip to pull me back into his punishing strokes, letting me know in the process that that hole, too, was his to do with as he pleased. My mind was aghast but my pussy got even wetter. He felt it and he knew he had me. He started sliding his thumb in and out of my asshole in counter strokes to his relentless cock. I swooned. "You filthy bastard," I groaned on the verge of cumming, pushing back into his hips. That's when he pulled out of both my holes completely. I almost cried at his cruelty and from the empty sense of withdrawal. Before I could turn to give him a look of indignation, I felt his mushroom head slide up one inch over my perineum and nestle into my anus. My eyes flew wide in shock. He wouldn't, would he? "Akai!" I screamed as he pushed his cock against my ass, but I still couldn't find the word 'stop.' I could feel his bulbous tip stretching my tiny hole. I was clenched up tight in a panic, but resistance was futile. I was too wet and he was too hard. His iron grip on my hips let me know that I wasn't going anywhere. He just kept pushing, his frenulum spreading me open more. It just wasn't right. I had already gone too far, I couldn't do this as well. I reared up to try and put a halt to things and Akai wrapped his strong arms around me and pressed me into his beautiful chest. "Relax, my love," he whispered in my ear before I could voice my protest. A hand came down between my legs to accompany his words and as he worked my clit I again lost my ability to speak up in protest. Then his lips found my neck, just under my ear and began to suck. All things yield to time and pressure and I was no different. Against the double onslaught of his hand in my pussy and his lips on my neck, I sunk my head in sweet defeat as Akai, with a little extra force in his hips, took my anal chastity. I yelped from the initial pain but didn't pull away. It was useless anyway. That's what I told myself. Sensing my surrender Akai bent me back over. He put his hand on the back of my head and held my face down in the pillow to muffle my screams as he slowly pushed more in to me. It was every filthy, adulterous desire fulfilled in a single wanton moment. I bit the pillow as his cock popped deeper into my ass, grunting and panting from the intense intrusion. "It hurts," I hissed, "take it out!" Instead of obeying me, he slid his hands up under my armpits then took a firm grip of each shoulder. With his chest against my back pinning me to the bed, I couldn't escape. I was totally at his mercy. His lips again found my exposed neck and returned to kiss me in my most sensitive spot. "Try to relax," he whispered. "Take a deep breath, and repeat after me. My ass is beautiful." On the word beautiful, I felt the head of his cock throb with a surge of warm blood, adding painful pressure against the resistance of my sphincter. "Akai, I can't," I whined. "Take it out, you're hurting me." Teeth sank into my neck, gently at first but then with more pressure, until I felt a nip of pain. "Ouch!" I hissed, and immediately a gentle tongue replaced his teeth, soothing over where he bit me. I moaned, then suddenly felt more discomfort in my ass. The distraction had allowed him to slip a few millimeters further into my bowels. "Say it," he repeated authoritatively as he pulled out slightly. I felt the flange around the head of his dick breach my contracting anus before he shoved it back inside my dark passage. My body held tight, and he still couldn't get much further than an inch inside of me. "Take a deep breath and say 'my ass is beautiful,'" he repeated. Even though his voice was calm, his grip on my shoulders tightened, letting me know his words were not a request. I was not getting out of this. "I don't have some fucking mental block," I complained, getting frustrated. Your dick just doesn't belong in my ass!" "Be honest with me," he replied, grinding the head of his dick in my dirty little hole, "hasn't everything I've done to your ass up until now felt wonderful?" I hesitated. "Yes," I finally answered softly, ashamed. "And this will be no different once you relax. It's what you came for," he said confidently. Again he pulled out an inch or so and then pushed back in until he heard me grunt in pain from being too full. "No it's not!" I protested. Akai laughed at me. "Nivia, you are a lot of things," he said, face still pressed into my neck, licking my skin. "You're smart, witty, sexy as hell, but naïve is not one of them. God gave you that big beautiful ass to enjoy it and let it bring you pleasure, not to be ashamed of it. That's why you're here. " Was he right? Did I consciously know that I was coming to submit to him in every way like this? While I contemplated his words, one of his strong hands released my shoulder and snaked under my tummy and resumed playing in my pussy. His fingers slid all too easily through my folds before he withdrew his hand and presented it before our faces. The incriminating evidence was clear to see and smell, as the pungent musk of my cunt slime hit both our nostrils. Akai groaned before popping one finger into his mouth. I watched him clean the sticky digit with lust-filled eyes before he offered the other wet finger to me. I sucked it clean, accepting my defeat. Akai didn't even have to say anything. No woman with a pussy that wet could ever claim she wasn't enjoying herself. Shamefully my pussy was dripping with joy at what was happening to me, pooling on the sheet beneath us. He kissed me after I was done sucking my juices off of his finger. The shared taste of my eager cunt cemented our new understanding. Apparently I did need it. It was exactly what I came for. I took a deep breath. Feeling my chest expand, Akai withdrew almost completely. "My ass is -- ugh! -- beautiful," I said timidly as his warm shaft tried to invade my bowels. There was still tense resistance. "Again, louder," he commanded, withdrawing once more. I took another deep breath. "My ass is ARRGHHHH!" I screamed as he sank an extra inch in me, finally cresting the tiniest bit past my sphincter. "Your ass is what?" he asked, pulling back his hips, preparing to impale me even further. A sneaky hand resumed its place between my legs and began massaging my sodden cunt before centering on my clit, anticipating his next thrust. Both of Akai's hands had returned to holding my shoulders. The hand playing in my pussy now belonged to me. Psyche's Surprise "My ass is beautiful," I repeated a little louder. Rewarding my obedience, Akai was generous enough to let me finish the phase before forcing his cock back into my anus with a carnal grunt. I cried out as his swollen head finally pushed all the way past my sphincter and entered the cavity of my bowels where the discomfort was much less. There were mixed emotions in my outburst, however, as underneath the searing pain was a deep warm throbbing feeling of fullness, that felt like I needed a little more. "Good God, Nivia," he groaned as he slowly slid back and forth in my ass, letting me adjust to the fuller intrusion in short, shallow strokes. When my own hips started to gyrate, he knew I was ready for more. Reading my body Akai withdrew, almost completely, and I cried out from a deserted sense of emptiness that came over me. "My ass is beautiful!" I repeated urgently, this time without being told. He rewarded me with a longer, deeper, and harder stoke into my funky depths. "Holy fuck!" I grunted in sweet relief. My cunt was so wet that we could hear my fingers playing in it. "Let me taste," he demanded and I knew what he wanted. I complied happily, quickly bringing my musky digits to his face. I wiped them under his nose before shoving them into his mouth. His cock made a slow piston in and out of my bowels while he slurped up my nectar, and then I just as quickly withdrew my fingers and shoved them back into my saturated pussy. I arched my back, signaling my desire for more. "My ass is beautiful!!" I screamed this time, starting to believe it. His hips came crashing down into my upturned cheeks as a growl reverberated from somewhere deep inside his barrel chest. His heavy balls slapped wetly into my empty cunt while short, curly and wiry hairs tickled my rudely dilated anus. I was stretched unbelievably wide to accept his considerable girth, while the head of his dick pierced new virgin territory in my colon. If the wind hadn't been completely knocked out of me I would have screamed from the exquisite pain that hurt so good. "And it's delicious, too, baby," he moaned into my ear. "Oh my God, what are you doing to me?!" I cried, gyrating back into his crotch as my leaking pussy drooled down his testicles. "What I should have done a long time ago," he replied softly. Then his lips sought mine. The kiss was slow and sensual, full of genuine affection. It stood in stark contrast to how he was lewdly and lustfully violating my rectum. The combination of savage lust paired with sweet tenderness made my head swim. "Fuck me Akai," I said in full surrender, breaking our sensual kiss. "Fuck my beautiful ass." And that he did. Akai reared up behind me on extended arms and put his hands on my shoulders, pinning me in place. Then he savagely ravaged my dirty little hole. The entire time I was screaming. Embarrassingly, he was also very vocal, making sure the whole neighborhood knew where his dick was and exactly what he was doing to me with it. This went on for a solid 10 minutes until I couldn't take it any longer. His stamina was relentless, with each pounding stroke faithfully following the next in perfect time. At one point he pulled me up by my shoulders so I could support my upper torso using my arms. I took the opportunity to use one hand to brace myself against the massive headboard crowning his king-sized bed. With the added leverage I shamelessly rutted back against him, trying to cram every last millimeter of his beautiful cock as deep in me as possible. The room reverberated with our obscene symphony as I could hear my anus suck wetly at his thick swollen shaft every time he pulled it out of my tight hole, followed by the clap of his big heavy balls slapping wetly into my empty cunt. Each slap of his low-swinging balls made delicious contact with my swollen clit, driving me wild. "Oh God, please don't stop!" I begged, quickly reaching that point of no return. I looked underneath us to watch his muscular thighs and hips come crashing into me and was shocked from the visceral image before me. There was wetness everywhere, and a long string of my sticky cunt slime hung from my lips connecting his balls. The smell of my drooling sex hung thick in the air, accented with the even more pungent scent of the kinky sin we were engaged in. It was that sensory overload that finally pushed me over the edge. My body exploded in delicious release and I came in a flood, wetting the bed beneath us. All sound left me as my face contorted with my mouth agape, drooling on the sheets. The spasms that wracked my body clamped down on his surging shaft, and that triggered his own release. With a roar and one final hard thrust inside of me, I felt his cock expand in my rectum before flooding my bowels with his hot thick seed. It took us a while to catch our breath. We were a heaving, sweaty mess. When his breathing finally calmed and his cock had softened, Akai gently withdrew from me and turned me over. There were tears rolling down my cheeks. He bent and softly licked them up. His eyes looked deeply into mine before scanning the rest of my body. I did the same to him. His cock, still half hard, was a slimy dripping frothy mess. It reeked with the smell of his cum and the musky pungency of nasty sex. My nose twitched as I salivated, and I had to fight the urge to ask him to feed it to me, appalled at my whorish desire. There was wetness everywhere between my legs, and he bent to lick that up as well. When he was done he lay next to me and took me into his arms, brushing my tender nipples into his hairy chest. "Am I finally forgiven?" he asked? I answered him with a long, deep, sensual kiss then relaxed my head on his shoulder, holding him tight. "I'll take that as a 'yes'," he smiled. "So do you finally believe me?" "About what, that my butt is beautiful?" "Yeah, duh!" he teased me. I gave him playful elbow to his ribs, then hesitated for a second before answering. "I don't know," I lied, feigning uncertainty while begging God's forgiveness for resigning my soul to hell. "I might need a little more convincing." ----- (_*_) ----- This story is dedicated to Suzie, who I did humiliate many years ago in this very fashion. I am truly sorry, and would love the opportunity to make it up to you one day. Psychic Marcos ‘It’s Marcus, to see Lady Windsor,’ he yelled at the intercom. ‘Please drive up to the main entrance Sir, and the butler will greet you there,’ was the tinny reply. A buzzer sounded and the large metal gates slowly opened. The estate was enormous, and it took him a while to drive up to the mansion entrance. A smart, elderly gentlemen regally approached his Mercedes. ‘Her ladyship will see you in the study, please follow me.’ The entrance was grand, full of pillars and statues, mosaic tiling, and faded paintings. Marcus stared up at the enormous sunny conservatory style dome above. ‘Must be a bitch to clean all that glass,’ he said quietly to the butler. ‘Quite!’ was the disapproving reply. The butler led Marcus through a set of heavy oak doors into the study. A woman sat near the largest window in the room. Marcus felt like he had gone through a time warp. Her dress was incredibly old fashioned, all cream lace and frills. He was certain that underneath her garment there was a corset, pushing out and showing off all the right bits. Her cleavage was beautifully presented. She was a lot younger than her title suggested. Her delicately pale skin complemented her long straight blond hair and crystal blue eyes. Her welcoming smile immediately bewitched Marcus, and he knew there and then what had to be done. ‘Lady Windsor, it is an honour to meet you,’ said Marcus in his best fake Rumanian accent. ‘Please call me Penny.’ She spoke quietly, and with all the heirs and grace that was expected of landed gentry. ‘The reason I called you here Marcus is to help me get in contact with my late husband, Thomas. I was at a tea party last month, and Lady Mortimor recommended you as having the ‘gift’?’ ‘Ah yes, Lady Mortimor, I remember her well. Obviously I am sworn to secrecy and cannot divulge any detail of my meetings with Lady Mortimor, but suffice to say she was very pleased with the outcome.’ Marcus thought back to how he had managed to swindle Lady Mortimor out of sizeable fee for his fortune telling talent. The fact was that he didn’t have a gift at all. He knew how to read people, and he knew how to do his homework. Thorough research into a client’s background was the key. He could then throw snippits into a conversation with the client and watch the reaction. He could get a client to open up to him completely, by teasing them with the tiniest morsel of personal information. The trick was always to keep answers vague, and to answer questions with more questions. His perfected technique had earned him a small fortune as well as a formidable reputation. ‘Good grief! I hope you didn’t think I was prying into Lady Mortimor’s affairs,’ said Penny feeling quite flustered. He reached over and touched her bare shoulder lightly, ‘please madam, I can sense that you were not. I can tell that you are a very honest young woman, who loved her husband dearly. I would not have accepted your invitation had I felt otherwise.’ Already Marcus had the upper hand. ‘Thank you, Marcus.’ Reading her eyes, Marcus could tell that she was already impressed. ‘Now Penny, I must admit that I know very little about you and your late husband,’ he lied, ‘but I will help you in any way I can.’ ‘All I really want to do is to tell him how much I love him,’ tears were beginning to form in her eyes. ‘I see. You wish me to contact the dead, and pass on a message, yes?’ he asked clasping his hands under his chin. ‘I would give anything to talk to him one last time, if only to tell him how sorry I was.’ She had started to cry but Marcus was more interested in her words than her emotions. She had already unknowingly passed him a valuable piece of information. He wondered if she blamed herself in some way for his death. He knew that the husband had crashed his car late at night, and that he had been alone, half dressed and speeding when he died. A lovers’ tiff perhaps? He walked behind her chair and placed a hand on either shoulder and started massaging gently while taking in the view of her magnificent chest. He wanted to move his hand toward her tits and have a nice grope, but prison food didn’t agree with his taste buds. His wealthy clients had all accepted his ‘touchy-feely’ mannerisms, assuming that ‘they’ must all behave that way in his country – whatever that country might be. The truth was that he originally came from London, but enjoyed creating an air of mystery with the accent being part of his con. ‘Contacting the dead is a difficult and dangerous journey. I am not certain that it is wise…’ ‘Oh please!’ pleaded Penny, ‘I don’t care how much it costs, if there is any way I could speak to my Tommy, even for a short time…’ A wry smile appeared on Marcus’s face. Things were going better than planned. He noticed a tear had splash on her chest, and was trickling down into the void between her breasts. Her hand reached for his, and she looked up at him with watery blue eyes. ‘I will try madam. I do not like to discuss money, as it is an embarrassing subject for me. Did Lady Mortimer tell you of the orphanage that I fund from my fee?’ A blatant lie of course, his funds went towards paying off his hefty gambling debt. ‘Yes she did tell me about the orphanage, you dear sweet man, will £50,000 be enough to help those poor under-privileged children?’ ‘That amount of money will go along way, madam, thank you.’ Marcus clicked his heals and saluted at Penny. Penny nodded, and began to write out the cheque. ‘I almost forgot, could you please make the cheque out to a Mr. Mark Hopkins? He is the, em, manager, at the orphanage.’ stuttered Marcus. With the cheque firmly secured in his back pocket, Marcus began his performance. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He outstretched his hands and let out a heavy sigh. ‘Nothing!’ I assume that your husband did not spend a lot of time in this study?’ Penny shrugged. ‘I am sorry Marcus, I do not know. We were only married a few weeks, and I had never visited this estate prior to our marriage.’ ‘Well I tell you then, Penny, this room is empty of all spirits. I must be taken to a chamber that is personal to you both.’ ‘Our bedroom?’ offered Penny. Bingo, thought Marcus, following Penny up the staircase. The bedroom was dark and full of antiques. A huge four poster bed dominated the space. Tom moved to the windows and opened the curtains to let in some light. He took hold of Penny’s hand and moved towards the bed. ‘Come sit with me,’ ordered Marcus, tapping the soft duvet. Penny obeyed and needed some help from Marcus to climb onto the bed. He obliged willingly and was rewarded with another great view of her tits, as she crawled to join him. ‘I can feel something now,’ said Marcus, and he wasn’t just talking about the stirring in his trousers. ‘This is where you argued, yes?’ said Marcus confidently. If he had been wrong he could have easily explained the error by using one of his many excuses. Penny gasped in amazement, which in turn almost pushed her breasts entirely out of the dress. ‘How did you know?’ was all she could manage to say. Not wanting to lose any momentum, Marcus continued, ‘He is here Penny, inside of me. He wishes to talk to you, about what happened that night. He is a handsome man, Penny, very tall with dark hair, and a small scar on his forehead’ ‘Amazing!’ whispered Penny. Marcus had seen him in ‘Hello’ magazine, and also watched a TV documentary about Thomas Windsor, over and over. Marcus blinked pretending to come out of a trance and said, ‘No it’s no good, I can’t keep a hold of him.’ ‘Can I do anything to help?’ asked Penny in desperation. ‘I’m not sure, Penny. Tell me, what were you wearing when you had the argument?’ Penny blushed. ‘Look this is not time for modesty!’ exclaimed Marcus impatiently, ‘we must act quickly if we don’t want to lose him.’ ‘I can show you,’ said Penny, making her way off the bed towards a chest of drawers. She pulled out a sexy white patterned bra and thong set and dangled the clothing along with a pair of white stockings in front of the psychic. Marcus swallowed, and for this first time in years, he was speechless. His penis was wide-awake, but his tongue was tied. She innocently made her way back onto the bed carrying the sexy lingerie. He grabbed the clothing from her and cleared his throat. He closed his eyes and said, ‘he really loved to see you wearing these garments didn’t he?’ Penny replied, ‘yes, he told me that this was his favourite set. How did you know?’ Although this had been an educated guess, most of his useful information had been underhandedly obtained when he had disguised himself, and frequented the local pub where he had mingled with the estate servants. ‘I feel him returning to me,’ said Marcus improvising. ‘Pen? Is that you Pen?’ Marcus had been practising Tom’s voice for a whole week. He heard a gasp from Penny. ‘…No, he has gone again! I was so close that time, but I need a stronger image to keep him.’ He shook his head and continued, ‘I am at a loss madam.’ Penny wasn’t the brightest girl in England, and she just sat shaking her head in frustration. Marcus dropped a more direct hint. ‘I do not understand why I keep losing him. Surely the sight of you and the sight of the garments from that night are suitable images for him to focus on. Maybe Tom is confused. If only we could provide him with a single stronger image.’ Penny smiled excitedly. ‘I know, what if I change into the lingerie? Do you think that would help?’ ‘Yes, that’s worth a try’ said Marcus, momentarily losing his accent. ‘She jumped off the bed and headed for the tall bamboo screen behind which she started getting changed. He sat looking at the screen thinking that given her background she would have thought it improper to even undress in front of her husband. He began to wonder just how much of a prude she must truly be. A sudden movement in the far corner of the room drew his attention. ‘Thomas, you sneaky dead bastard,’ whispered Marcus to himself as he spotted the strategically positioned upright mirror giving him a full-on view of the lady changing behind the screen. The horny husband must have been a bit of a voyeur, thought Marcus. He then began to wonder if Thomas has installed any hidden cameras in the room. He gave up on that thought thinking that they hadn’t been married long enough for Thomas do have taken such steps. Marcus smiled as he watched Lady Penny fully undress then bend over to put on the thong. She faced in the direction of the mirror before slipping on the bra, which pleased Marcus enormously. Her breasts were huge, and from the way they were squeezing into her bra, he could tell they were 100% natural. That’s one lady who doesn’t need the help of a corset, he thought. Finally after putting on the stockings, she reappeared slowly, and with great hesitation. Her face was flushed with embarrassment, and she refused to make eye contact as she approached the bed. He said, ‘you must not be ashamed my child, for these eyes will not be mine to see with. Only Thomas will look upon you.’ This seemed to do the trick as her pace quickened and she climbed onto the raised four-poster. She now knelt in front of him, scantily dressed, with an expectant grin. ‘Close your eyes my dear,’ he ordered, in his deep accent. She did as he asked, and with the coast clear, he put his hand into his trousers to straighten his throbbing erection. He played with himself for a while staring at her fabulous tits that seemed to overflow out of the white bra that was obviously too small for such a large cleavage. ‘…Pen?’ said Marcus, imitating Thomas’s voice again. ‘Pen, are you there?’ ‘Yes, my darling,’ she said opening her eyes. ‘Where are you Pen? I can’t see you’ said Marcus staring into space. Penny looked confused, and started waving her hand in front of Marcus’s face. Marcus kept up the Stevie Wonder impersonation. She quickly moved closer to Marcus and touched his face, ‘can you feel my hands, Thomas?’ she pleaded. Marcus smiled and nodded weakly, stretching out his own hands to touch her bare shoulders. ‘Is that really you Pen?’ he blurted out, moving his hands excitedly and quickly, mimicking the movements of a blind man. He touched her hair, her lips, back to the shoulders, then braved a quick grope of her tits before touching her stocking covered thighs. She appeared to be embracing the moment, so he continued groping, spending a lot of time stroking her naked stomach and bumping his hands into her lace bra. Then he hugged her passionately, ensure that his erection made no contact. She returned the hug and started kissing Marcus’s neck and cheek. Not one to miss an opportunity, he reciprocated, by kissing her shoulder, and kept his hands busy by fondling her incredible bra-laden breasts. The kissing and touching continued until their lips met. Marcus inadvertently rammed his tongue deep into her mouth, which caused her to abruptly break away from his hold and take stock. Marcus realised his mistake, and thought that Lord Thomas would probably save those types of kisses for his mistresses, and not for the lady that was to bear his children. ‘Forgive me, Pen, I’ve just missed you so much.’ She pulled further away from him on the bed, with a worried look on her face. He knew he needed to work harder than that to win back her trust. He blinked hard, and shook his head. He then spoke again in his Rumanian accent, ‘Did he appear to you?’ Penny covered herself with a pillow and nodded nervously. ‘Thomas is leaving, I can feel his presence fading…he has one last question before he leaves…’ said Marcus mysteriously. He had Penny’s attention. ‘Thomas would like me to ask you if you enjoyed your honeymoon to Venice as much as he did?’ Penny’s eyes widened again and she nodded vigorously. ‘Tell him that they were the best two weeks of my entire life.’ Marcus nodded, and replied, ‘He thinks the same, Lady Penny. That is why he asked me to mention the honeymoon.’ After a short pause, Marcus added, ‘now he is very sad - he keeps saying ‘Why? … Why? I can feel him fading quicker now, he is very, very sad.’ Penny was near to tears. ‘Please bring him back, I have to let him know how sorry I am. I must have his forgiveness.’ Marcus opened his eyed wide and was very still. He extended a finger at Penny and said dramatically, ‘You killed him. You were the cause of the accident!’ ‘No, no you must not think that, it’s not true. I couldn’t do what he asked. It made me feel dirty.’ She was sobbing openly now. He let her cry for a while. He leaned forward and helped her dry her tears. In a quiet voice he asked, ‘Would you like me to try and get him back for you?’ Her sobbing slowed, and she nodded without looking at Marcus. ‘Penny, I am very tired, this will be your last chance to speak to your husband. If you upset him then he is lost to you forever, do you understand?’ She looked directly into Marcus’s eyes and nodded again. ‘I must hear you say it so that I know you understand. This is not a game my child, you have been given a chance to gain forgiveness before he passes over completely to the other side.’ She looked much more serious as she absorbed his words. ‘I understand, I need his forgiveness, no matter what the cost,’ she swallowed and continued nodding. Marcus stretched out his hand, touched her shoulder, and said, ‘I believe you, Penny. Now please help me bring him back’. ‘I will do anything you ask of me, Marcus’ ‘We need to focus harder now. Tell me, what part of your body was he most fond of? Your hair, your eyes?’ Not wasting any time, she clinically replied, ‘My breasts.’ It was Marcus’s turn to swallow, as he didn’t expect to hear her say that. Keeping a straight face, he asked her to remove her bra so that he could look upon her breasts. She nodded and turned so that he could help her with the fastening. ‘Good,’ he said, unfastening the clip, ‘we must not waste any time with false modesty.’ She turned around to face him. He blinked hard and stared openly at the heavenly sight. The bra had left a slight mark under each cup, but still they were the finest breasts he had ever seen. He sat up and moved closer to her naked torso. He stretched out his hands and asked, ‘how did he used to touch you?’ She took hold of his hands, closed her eyes and used his hands to rub her breasts in a hard clockwise motion. He thought his dick would explode. Seconds later she released her hold out of sheer embarrassment, but he kept his hands firmly fixed on her tits and continued rubbing. Moments later he changed voice back to Thomas. ‘Pen? Oh Pen, do you really think I could hold you responsible for what happened?’ ‘If I had only done what you asked you would never have left the house in such a rage,’ she sobbed. While still fondling her breasts, he said, ‘what I asked should not make you feel dirty. We are husband and wife. There should be no secrets between us, no barriers. We are one! Or at least that was my understanding.’ His voice had petered out as he had finished his sentence, and he had started to slowly move his hands away from her tits, as if he was drifting away again. ‘No! I won’t let you leave like this!’ shouted Penny, pulling Marcus’s hands firmly back onto her breasts. ‘Stay with me Thomas’. She squeezed Marcus’s hands hard on her tits until Marcus continued his enthusiastic fondling without her help. ‘I need to know that you forgive me. Please say it Thomas. Say that you forgive me! I will do anything to gain your forgiveness, I can’t go on living with this guilt.’ ‘Prove your love for me now. Prove it to me before I must depart forever. Show me you truly are sorry and then you will have my forgiveness.’ To Marcus’s amazement, she simply nodded and slowly started pushing him back until he lay flat on the bed. He heard his trouser zip being opened, and felt a tug on his trouser leg as she started to undress him. She didn’t utter a word, until he was completely naked, lying there with an enormous erection pointing north. ‘I love you, Thomas’ said Penny, ‘and I always will.’ Before Marcus had a chance to reply he felt a warm wet sensation around his throbbing dick. He sat up to see the Lady Penny sucking on his fat cock. Her head was bobbing up and down at a frantic pace as she concentrated on the tip of his penis. He couldn’t hide the smile on his face, and he silently mimed a number of swear words as she continued her bobbing action. Not bad for your first every blowjob, thought Marcus. He tried pushing his dick further into her mouth, but she resisted, simply pulling herself further away from his tool so that her mouth continued only working the tip. She countered every thrust but Marcus wasn’t going to give up that easily. Instead of pushing his dick up at her, he started to relax, implying that Thomas was about to leave the body of Marcus. Penny panicked at the thought of losing Thomas and started sucking harder and slightly deeper to help keep her late husband with her. Marcus’s ploy had paid off, and now when he trust his dick into her mouth she took as much of his penis as she could manage. After several minutes, his dick was soaked with her saliva, but she carried on waiting on Marcus to command her. A few moments later he told her to stop. His dick loved the oral attention, and Marcus wanted to savour every minute. ‘Now suck me again, but this time, my beloved, I want you to take it all into your mouth.’ She knew better than to argue and opened her mouth to begin her descent. He stopped her abruptly, and added, ‘do it slowly.’ She licked her lips, flicked her golden blond hair over her shoulder and slowly started eating cock. She had managed to get about two-thirds of the way down before she came to a halt. He started at her, and saw that she was trying to shake her head in defeat. She was breathing heavily through her nose. He pressed his hands on top of her head and tried to force the rest of his member into her wide-open mouth. Her lips were stretching trying to cover the remaining length of his cock, but she was short a few centimetres. He pressed her head harder still, causing her to gag, and she came up for air, releasing his cock. Psychic Marcos After a short coughing bout, to Marcus’s surprise and delight, she said, ‘again.’ ‘Relax your throat Pen, and it’ll slide in deeper that way.’ Incredibly he was able to concentrate hard enough to still sound like Thomas. She cleared her throat, nodded and tried again. Marcus lay back closed his eyes, loving every moment. She slowly lowered her lips down his shaft until she got to the sticking point. She took a deep breath through her nose and continued pressing down hard while relaxing her throat muscles. It worked. Her lips were soon in contact with the pubic base of his rock hard dick. Marcus felt her nose touch his stomach and opened his eyes wide with shocked pleasure. After a couple of seconds, she started making her way slowly back up his shaft, sucking hard all the time, until she released his cock head with a popping noise. Smiling at Marcus, she whispered, ‘I did it my husband, I did it just for you.’ ‘Don’t let me stop you now Pen,’ said Marcus encouraging her to practise her new found skill. Still smiling, she continued with the blowjob. She sucked hard and slow all the way down his shaft and at the base she would shake her head slightly rubbing her nose against his stomach, and licking around his shaft. She would then start pumping his dick with her mouth at a furious speed, every so often stopping at the base, to get used to the sensation. Armed with her new found skill she was insatiable, not wanting to stop, doing her best to make sure that Thomas would remember this moment from after-life to after-life. After a few more minutes of the oral attack on his unsuspecting penis, Marcus was ready to release his load. She had gone deep, taking him fully into her throat and he could sense that she was about to starting making her way back up his dick, when he stopped her from moving by placing one hand on the back of her head, and the other firmly under her chin. ‘Don’t move,’ he managed to blurt out, just before he started shooting his semen directly down her throat. Wave after wave of cum blasted out of his over excited member. He held her head so tightly against his stomach during his spasm, that he could feel the bone in her nose squash against him. He opened his eyes, to see that she was trying to escape from his grip. Her hands were clenched into fists, and she was punching his thighs lightly in submission. With one last burst his orgasm started to subside, and he released his hold. She shot up coughing and swallowing, ‘I can’t believe how salty that tastes!’ she gasped. A bit of cum dribbled out of the side of her mouth and splashed onto her naked breast. Marcus offered to get Penny a drink of water, but she refused. He wandered if he had overstepped the mark, when to his amazement she said, ‘No drink. Let’s finish this by doing the other thing so that I can gain my forgiveness.’ There was an exhausted blank look on his face as he wondered what she was talking about. She got on all fours and pointed her pussy in his direction. ‘Doggy style?’ he thought, and said, ‘Give me a minute Pen, I need to recover.’ She shook her head and said, ‘No there’s no time for a rest, I don’t know how long I’ve got you for, and I want to finish this, now!’ She placed his floppy cum covered cock in her mouth and started rolling her tongue around his dick. It didn’t take long for him to be hard again, and as exhausted as he was, the thought of driving his tool into that upper class pussy was enough of an incentive to get him onto his knees. She was back on all fours again, with her inviting pussy at dick-level. He inserted his dick into her soaking wet pussy to find Penny pulling herself away from him. He tried again, and as soon as he felt he’d entered her warm wet hole, she crawled forward, releasing his dick. Finally with a hint of frustration in her voice, she said, ‘that’s not the hole you wanted.’ ‘Thomas I would kiss you, if you weren’t dead,’ thought Marcus has he started positioning his dick towards her ass-hole. He smeared some of her dripping pussy juice into her anus, digging his finger deeply into her orifice. ‘Ouch,’ she uttered. He apologised quickly removing his finger. He applied some more of her lubrication around the rim then started forcing his dick into her tiny hole. He saw her grab hold of a pillow and start to pound it as he got slowly deeper and deeper in. ‘Sore, sore, ‘ she breathed, wondering how long it would be before the tearing pain would subside. Marcus thought that the softly softly approach wasn’t working, and went in for the kill, stabbing his dick as quick and hard as he could into the virgin ass. She let out a whimper, then started breathing as if in childbirth. Marcus couldn’t believe how tight her hole was and started to pull out before stabbing again. He continued pounding while she continued with her erratic breathing. He heard her tits smack together, time and time again, and reached under her to grope them while bashing her ass. Eventually he was ready to cum again, and he pulled out of her ass. She moved forward relieved that the ordeal was over, and turned to face Marcus. ‘Let me taste you again my beloved while you speak the words, and tell me that I am forgiven,’ she pleaded. She invited his throbbing dick back into her mouth and started sucking furiously. She was still on all fours, and he knelt in front of her. He started frantically fucking her face, grasping the locks of blond hair near her ears. She was massaging his cock with her playful tongue while sucking hard. Just as he was about to come, he pulled out of her mouth and grabbed his dick with his own hand. He ordered her to keep her mouth open and he watched cum spurt out of his well-exercised dick, spraying into her welcoming mouth. She didn’t close her mouth until he had completely finished, and then, with her eyes closed, he saw her swallow the entire load. He collapsed onto the bed and within moments was fast asleep. He woke several hours later and looking up he noticed Lady Penelope Windsor staring quietly out of the bedroom window. He quickly got into character, tidied himself up and approached her ladyship. ‘I do not remember what happened,’ he lied in his phoney accent. ‘Did the spirits talk to you Penny?’ ‘Oh yes, Marcus. Thank you for allowing me to speak with Tommy. I am forever in your debt.’ Marcus looked confused and asked, ‘Madam, I sense that there is still something troubling you?’ She smiled weakly and replied, ‘Oh Marcus, I cannot tell you of what transpired between my husband and I. It was a very private meeting. You won’t understand but something was left unsaid that I had prayed he would have told me. I had asked him to forgive me for a terrible deed, but alas he never blessed me with his forgiveness. I did exactly as he asked, but I lost him before he spoke the words I have so longed to hear. In all the excitement Marcus had forgotten to actually release Penny from her guilt trip. He wasn’t to blame, he had more pressing matters to attend to at the time. I grieve for you Penny. Please allow me to return in a month’s time to see if we can find your husband again. I am certain it was nothing more than an oversight on his part. She turned and gazed deeply into his eyes. ‘Thank you Marcus, but I fear it will be too late by then. He told me that he was preparing to leave for the next stage in his journey.’ ‘In that case Madam there is no time to be lost. Allow me to leave your estate now, and I shall return again in the morning to summon him! I am certain with your help we will be able to get him back.’ She looked exhausted after her ordeal, but knew she had no choice but to go through the same torture the following night. ‘Marco, you are a very kind man, and of course I will pay you the same fee again for tomorrow, no, I insist.’ ‘As you wish madam. Until tomorrow, I bid you a good evening. He kissed her hand, clicked his heals, saluted, and left her bedroom. He loved his job. ** Please send me feedback so I can improve my stories. All comments received with thanks.