46 comments/ 272235 views/ 89 favorites Oh...Sarahhh By: scouries This is a Loving Wives story that tells the tale of a frustrated young wife and teacher who discovers a long unsuspected sexual hunger in herself that her much older husband can't begin to satisfy. She revels when she becomes the sex slave of a big cocked student from the wrong side of the tracks. Will hubby accept his status as cuckold and be willing to raise another man's baby as his son? Will he accept it when other men threaten to take her? Oh...Sarahhh * "Aha, so you're the lucky one," I heard coming from above me. "Lucky?" I asked, looking up at a smiling thirty something year old woman standing at my elbow. "Hi, I'm Jill, Jill Cliburn," the woman announced, "English Department...you must be Mrs. Fisher." "Sarah," I offered. "Sorry I missed you the other day, I couldn't make the staff meeting," Jill answered. It was the first day of classes at Hillary Clinton High in Daytona Beach, Florida and I, and many of my new colleagues, were sitting in the staff common room having a coffee after second period. "Sit, please," I invited. "Thanks," and then after settling down next to me asked, "Is this your first year teaching?" "No, Bruno and I, Bruno's my husband...we lived in Syracuse...that's where I went to university. Anyway, I taught the last two years up there." "Tired of the snow?" Jill asked as another two teachers I'd met earlier sat down at the table. "No...well, yes of course...but the real reason was Bruno got transferred and..." The four of us continued to talk about the school and the city for minutes before I remembered Jill's original question. "Why am I lucky anyway?" "I hear you've got 'The Angel' in your homeroom." "She does?" the other two asked, clearly interested. I knew immediately who she meant but still asked, "Angel?" He'd been sitting in the second row next to the window when I'd entered my class at eight forty-five that morning. He was a young god. "Tall...Long curly blond hair...Beautiful blue eyes...muscles...looks like a prince," Jill enthused. "You get wet about two seconds after seeing him." "The gorgeous hunk?" I asked. Seeing the three teachers nod I added, "I thought when he introduced himself he was pulling my leg. About his name. He's..." "He's perfect," Jill finished as the other two nodded their agreement. "And he's finally eighteen now. The thoughts we all have about him are now perfectly legal," she said with a laugh, looking at the other two at the table knowingly. Months later I wondered whether, if Jill hadn't said what she said next, things wouldn't have turned out differently. But she did say those words. "Apparently he's hung like a horse too," Jill said with a grin and immediately the image burned itself into my brain – this extraordinarily handsome god-like boy-man walking toward me naked, his thick, long appendage waving proudly in front of him, eager to fill me. "He's also the smartest guy in math in the school, right up your alley," one of the other two added. "Math?" I asked as I tried to clear the erotic image from my brain. "He wrote his math SAT's last year, aced them all," the one called Abbey said. "In his junior year?" "Your predecessor, Bob Williams, couldn't keep up with him," the other, Nancy added. "He's like a genius or something. Computers too. Our young god apparently ignored poor Bob all year." "And what about his..." I started shyly. "His penis? It's famous," Abbey said laughing. "The biggest in the school," Jill added, "at least according to our sources. Has been since he was a freshman." Many people might think that school teachers only talk about academics and other serious topics, but I'd learned in my previous two years that the reality was that we were the biggest gossips in the world. The goings on of their teenage charges seemed to provide the average high school teacher with a continuing vicarious entertainment that they couldn't stop talking and speculating about. The latest romances, who was sleeping with whom, drug usage, who was cute, who a slut, who they'd like to try, all that and more were the main topics of conversation when we met. So I wasn't surprised at the gossip my tablemates continued to provide. Over the next ten minutes I got the condensed life story of the student everyone called simply 'The Angel'. 'Best math and science student in school' 'Biggest prick' 'Computer genius' 'Lives in the trailer park across the tracks (the one poor area in our affluent district)' 'Mother dead, an ex-prostitute or crack-head or both' 'Best dressed' "A loner' 'Father in and out of jail, a gang biker' 'All the cheerleaders wanted him (but none had him?)' 'Worked as a male prostitute' 'Has a motorcycle' 'No one can figure where his money comes from – sells his body?' "You three are terrible," I finally said as I interrupted the litany of information coming from the three. "Some of it must be true," Jill said laughing. "But he is a mystery and it's going to be up to you to help resolve some of our questions." ~~~~~~ There were only eight students in my introductory calculus class the last period of the day; it was an elective that all but the most serious math student avoided like the plague. My 'angel' of course was there! His real name was Johnny Angel, and it turned out Mr. Angel didn't think he needed much help from a new and young teacher, especially a female one. He basicly spent his Calculus class and my seminars on advanced math and computer programming in the days that followed reading while ignoring everything that was going on around him. "Mr. Angel," I finally shouted out at the end of my late day class the second week of the term as he trudged out the door. "Miss?" he asked as he turned and looked at me as he hovered at the door. "My name is Mrs. Fisher," I said somewhat crossly as I signaled him to return inside. "Yes ma'am?" he said as he stood bouncing from foot to foot halfway to my desk. "Please...sit," I instructed. "Something wrong?" he asked when he'd finally sat, his eyes darting every two seconds to his watch. "You don't seem to be willing to contribute to the class," I started, beginning to get pissed off at this little prima donna, even if he was the most handsome boy in school and had the biggest prick. "I'm too advanced for this Miss...they told me...Mr. Williams, last year...he told me just to sit in class and do my own work. Not to bother the others. You probably wouldn't understand this..." he said, his voice trailing off as he noticed the anger growing behind my eyes. "Let me see your book," I ordered as I pulled the text from his hands. "But Miss, you won't understand." "Do this problem for me," I said after opening the book near the back and finding a page of problems. "On the board." "It's not like adding two and two," he almost whined when I handed him the chalk. "I haven't really got this far, its..." "Do your best, everyone says you're the genius," I ordered. For an hour and a half he worked, at first sullenly, but then as he got engrossed, as he started to recognize I understood what was going on, he became visibly happy, almost voluble as we discussed possible solutions back and forth. "You're not like Mr. Williams ma'am," he said happily after we'd combined to find a somewhat acceptable approach to solving the problem. "Can we do this again," he asked eagerly. "Yes," I said smiling, elated I'd found a student with as much ability and interest as I in math. "But." "But what?" he said interrupting. "But I want you to be a more positive influence in class, contribute, help, teach...just because you're smarter than everyone doesn't mean you can't..." "Okay, okay...now when can we get together again...tomorrow?" "No, tomorrows Friday...Bruno and I, he's my husband, we have a dinner party" "You're married?" "That's why I'm called Mrs. Fisher," I said grinning at this handsome, excited teen in front of me. "Oh... Well, can't you cancel this dinner?" God, I was so tempted to say yes but simply nodded no. "Saturday then?" "It's the weekend. Don't you have things to do?" "No." "Well, maybe Saturday afternoon...I think Bruno's going fishing." "Noon? What's your address?" I gave it without even thinking, swept off my feet by his exuberant energy. Then he kissed me when I went to hand him the slip of paper, simply stepped into me and quickly brought his lips to mine, let me feel his moist tongue before he stepped back. "Thanks ma'am," he said with a cocky little grin on his face. "You're not supposed to kiss your teacher," I finally sputtered out seconds later, trying to sound officious even as I tried to recover from my surprise. "Mr. Williams liked it," he answered back sassily, his teenage male arrogance all of a sudden in full view. "So you're gay," I teased, not willing to let him walk all over me even if I was still shaking. "Sure...that's why I find you so cute," he teased back. "Yeah, you're built sooo like a boy," he added as he pulled me against him, crushing my full, firm breasts against his hard chest. "Johnnnnnny!" I cried as my eyes rushed to check the door. "What's your name?" "Sarahhh," I whispered as I felt him harden against my stomach. God, the girls hadn't lied about that. It was huge. He kissed me again quickly on the lips, then released me, then as he moved towards the door, turned and simply said, "Thanks, I'll see you Saturday." I trembled all the way home. ~~~~~~ "Where've you been hon?" Bruno asked when I finally stumbled through the door at six fifteen. "I had some work after school. I..." "What's for dinner?" I had met Bruno early in my senior year at Syracuse. He, fifteen years my senior, had lived next door to me in my off campus apartment that year, a bank manager who'd been rotated into a position as second-in-command for the Syracuse-Buffalo region. For a twenty-one year old, fourth year university student in 2002 America I was curiously naïve, a serious math major who'd been a computer nerd in high school and had missed the sexual awakening most of my classmates had experienced. If anyone had bothered to ask me during my high school years I'd have probably described myself as plain or average looking. I dressed accordingly, in black mostly and definitely not sexy. My pert girls breasts might have been considered sexy but they'd lain hidden for years under layers of bulky clothes. Then suddenly my lanky, or thin, 5'8" body grew hips and high, full breasts during the summer between high school and college. Boys discovered me during my first year in Syracuse, my suddenly mature body all of a sudden a magnet for what seemed like half the males on campus. My red hair and green eyes, combined with my milky white smooth skin, all the product of my gran's Irish genes, seemed to ignite the male libido in a way that only frightened a still shy virgin. I dated some that first year, got kissed in lust for the first time, even let an engineering student from Pittsburgh touch my breasts, through my sweater of course, but... ...but I maintained my virginity for two more years, always unsure of this sudden change in my status, this almost magical metamorphosis from awkward teen to desirable woman. For the most part I hid in hard work and my love of math. Late in third year I finally slept with a boy, a boy chosen less for his sex appeal than the fact he was available as third year was winding down. I was continually horny, and this increasing horniness had started to take a toll on my work. So I just went out and got laid. Bobby Carson of Utica, New York was the lucky boy, a freshman I'd been assigned to tutor, part of my duties associated with my fellowship grant. He was as surprised as I, and then stunned when I bled my virgin blood on his thrusting prick. He peppered me with questions when we lay panting after we'd done, "You were a virgin?" and "Why me?" and "Was I okay?" and "Did you like it?" and "Do you want to do it again?" He wasn't very big, nor a great lover, but those few minutes writhing under him convinced me I'd been a fool to have waited so long. I simply loved the feel of a penis inside of me. I slept with him every night for the last month of term, might have even continued on with him the next year if he hadn't failed out, the victim of too many nights in my bed. Bruno didn't exactly sweep me off my feet during my senior year but our first tentative hallway meetings slowly evolved into dinners, and then movies, museum visits, football games until one morning I woke up in his bed. Finally cocked again! We got engaged. Then we married three days after my graduation ceremony the following spring. I'd sorta drifted into it, impressed I think by the clean cut, serious, well dressed, nice guy who was willing to spend a hundred dollars on a good meal for he and his date. A banker who didn't seem intimidated by a woman who understood math and computers. Was he good looking? At thirty-six when we met, with his 5'9", 200 pound body and his neat, clean cut appearance, he'd looked younger than he was and compared favorably with my less mature classmates. Now, four years later, having added another twenty-five pounds, mostly around his waist, and with his hairline rapidly receding, he was beginning to look more like my father than my husband. The sex had seemed fine at first; I really didn't have much to compare it with and I think I'd been so happy to finally have a sex life that I wasn't about to complain. I found I loved having a penis in me and as our years together had passed my biggest complaint was that we didn't make love often enough. It was only when I started to hang out with the female teachers I worked with that I was finally exposed to sex gossip, something I'd totally missed in my high school years. Horny wives, swinging, threesomes, gays and lesbians, huge penises, teacher-student sexcapades, all manner of fetishes, these were all worlds I'd somehow missed but was quickly educated about in the common room of Syracuse High. All that this endless talk and speculation really did to me was to produce a slight dissatisfaction with my sex life, to create a curiosity, a small desire to explore something new. The move to Florida was perhaps the final catalyst I'd needed to finally break out and discover my true sexual identity. I knew then that Bruno wasn't particularly well endowed, my recent explorations on the internet had exposed me to male genitalia that had made me gasp. His five thin inches increasingly had seemed inadequate to my needs. Then just this past summer I'd found he had a 'low sperm count', a horrible term that just seemed to underscore his small size. Bruno hadn't ever admitted this diagnosis to me, in fact still maintained my inability to get pregnant must be due to some problem with me. Our doctor had finally told me after I'd insisted on another battery of tests. "It's your husband, Mrs. Fisher," he'd confided, unwilling to have me submit to unneeded tests, "he'll probably never be able to father your child." I suppose it was all the above factors that had made me so susceptible to having an affair, to making poor Bruno the cuckold. ~~~~~~ "So how was your day," Bruno asked pleasantly as we ate the pasta and salad I'd thrown together. "I finally got to talk to the boy genius." I'd already told Bruno about the strange boy who'd already received acceptances for next fall from Princeton and Stanford. "He's that tall blond kid isn't he? I think I saw him yesterday when I was leaving football practice." Bruno had two loves in life, fishing and football, and he had always tried to help coach whatever local team would have him. The Clinton High head coach had welcomed him and Bruno spent a couple of hours two or three afternoons a week helping coach our 'Special Teams' units. "I thought you said he was poor, lived in a trailer park or something?" he added. "That's what the common room gossip says." "Shit, he had a pretty fancy new motorcycle for some trailer trash kid. Nice clothes too, dressed like a fag." "Bruno!" "Well, how do you explain it?" "I don't know," I answered; Johnnie's apparent access to money had also intrigued me. "He's also got a three thousand dollar laptop." "Well he's either selling drugs or sucking cock," Bruno said smugly, "and he looks too much like a fancy boy to be selling drugs." "He seems so big and strong...he's got a big...I mean he seems very muscular." "Why doesn't he play ball then? He's got those fag gym pretty-boy muscles, probably can't run a lick." One thing I knew for certain was that Johnnie was not a homosexual. He exuded a maleness that every female teacher at school recognized and responded to. "The girls...you know, my coworkers, seem pretty sure he likes girls." "Probably in the closet...I'd still bet he's sucking cock on the side," he said with confidence. "He's coming over tomorrow afternoon; I promised I'd help him with some problems." "Ask him, he might admit it to his favorite teacher," he said, closing our discussion of Johnnie for that night. But it was Johnnie's face I saw later that night as Bruno urgently pushed his little penis into me, his premature ejaculation again preventing me from any chance at having the orgasm I yearned for. ~~~~~~ We didn't make love that first Saturday afternoon. Looking back I'm still not sure how I stopped myself from simply jumping him. I had dressed in a simple summer dress for his visit, a thin, ivory colored dress with a relatively conservative, square cut scoop above my breasts. But although it looked conservative, it was loose enough that as soon as I hunched my shoulders in even a little bit, someone sitting next to me could see most of my breasts, breasts that afternoon that were held up and exposed in a white, lacy demi-bra. Why didn't he simply take me as we sat with legs touching in front of my desk top computer? He must have felt the trembling in my thighs. I know he repeatedly looked down my top, know he was as sexually excited as I. I could see the huge bulge threatening to explode from his shorts. I think in retrospect it was just the delight he felt in having finally found somebody who understood and could communicate in the language of mathematics. That he didn't want to jeopardize this for something he could get anywhere. In a way, to him, the math was more important than my body. Our legs, our arms touched that afternoon, but we never kissed. ~~~~~ "So, is he gay?" "What?" "Didn't you ask him?" Bruno demanded. "No. But he did tell me he had a girlfriend...apparently she's older, she goes to the Community College," I lied. "Where does he get his money then?" "He was pretty tightlipped, didn't say." "I'll bet," Bruno growled as he popped a can of Bud. ~~~~~~ On both Tuesday and Thursday afternoon the following week we stayed together after class, working til close to six, one day on calculus problems, the second on a programming problem. As we worked, our heads just inches apart, the sexual attraction we both felt threatened at any minute to explode. I could smell my need in the air; he, a sexual predator, must have known I was ready, that I was open, that I could be simply taken...he waited. ~~~~~~ Johnnie didn't show up for school the next Monday, apparently an extraordinarily strange occurrence. I overheard one of his classmates say it was the first time he'd missed a day in three years, a comment echoed by Jill and a couple of other teachers at lunch. He didn't show up Tuesday and finally Wednesday, with Johnnie still not there, I headed to the office. There, the secretary, Mrs. Brown, told me she hadn't received any word from Johnnie, but immediately happily furnished me his address when I told her I was willing to check on him during my lunch hour. Oh...Sarahhh It was an ugly place that trailer park, a ten acre tract shoehorned between the highway to the west and the railway tracks to the east. A forlorn, littered place that you'd expect to see in the third world but never in America; a blemish among the beautiful houses of the rest of the area. The Angel residence was at the back, right next to the tracks, a broken down, single wide mobile home that seemed to list precariously on build up cement blocks that tentatively anchored it's four corners. "Hello, anyone there," I called through the half open door after my repeated knocks had elicited no response from the dim interior. I almost fell off the wobbling cement block that served as the step up to the door when I felt a hand on my shoulder and a belligerent demand in my ear, "Who the fuck are you lady?" Turning I found myself facing a giant, a dirty, fat, scowling man who had to be at least 6'5" and three hundred pounds. "I'm Mrs. Fisher, I'm here," I started before he cut me off. "Leave me the fuck alone bitch," he hissed, "I don't have to report in til next week." "I'm not...I'm not your...your whatever," I protested. "What, you're one of those whores chasing Johnnie?" he then asked rudely as his eyes raked across my body. "Shit, you're a little classier than that little pricks usual fare. Maybe you'd like a man when you're finished with the boy," he said leering, his hand cupping his groin. "I'M HIS TEACHER, his school teacher," I yelled indignantly at the slob. "Didn't have teachers like you when I was there....he's in there," he said pointing into the trailer, his interest in me gone. "Mrs. Fisher!" Johnnie said with a start when I barged through a thin plywood door and stumbled when my knees hit the end of his bed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to..." I stammered as I took in the small room and Johnnie lying on the bed, obviously naked, only one leg and his genitals covered by the thin sheet. "We were worried at the school...I just wanted to be sure you were alright," I continued to mutter. "I was sick...I'm okay now...food poisoning or something." "Did you see a doctor?" "No, I'm okay...really." "It stinks in here." "I've been sick...yesterday...last night...I couldn't get to the toilet," he said motioning to the small trash can in the corner. "But what about your father?" "Clem? He's my step-dad...he's been messed up the last couple of days...some bad meth..." "Do you have clean sheets, a towel?" I demanded as I grabbed the can and started towards the door. "It's okay Sarah...really, you don't have to." "Have you eaten today?" When he shook his head no I simply scowled and asked "Do you have any running water in this..." Clem was perched on a twenty-year old, torn and dirty sofa in the living room when I exited the bedroom, simply gave him the puke filled can as I passed towards the sink. "What the fuck's this shit," he growled as he contemplated the smelly contents facing him. "Your son's sick. Don't you care?" I demanded as I moved back to Johnnie's cubbyhole with a pot of hot water, a sponge, and a couple of less than white towels. I slowly washed him, wiping first the flecks of puke from his face and neck, then the sweat and dirt from his chest and arms. "You're strong...muscled," I said softly as I cleaned the thick muscles of his chest. "And no stomach," I added as I ran the washcloth over his washboard abs. "I work out some," he said shyly. "You don't have to," he started to add as my hand worked the sheet lower. It was magnificent, huge and thick, sitting proudly half filled on his golden thigh, then it started to lift, to grow as I washed his thighs, his matted, blond pubic thatch. "I'm sorry," he groaned as it sprang upward, "I can't stop it." "Oh Jesus," I couldn't help spitting out as it bounced against my hand on its upward journey. Then regaining my composure, added with an insincere sounding giggle, "Well, I guess you can't be that sick." He was grinning when I finally finished washing him and looked challengingly into my eyes, proud I'd seen it, doing nothing to cover himself, sensing my excitement, my hunger for him. "Have you eaten?...no, well I'll go and get you something." "You don't have to," he protested as I left. He was still naked when I returned a half hour later, a large bowl of soup, a steaming pot of stew and a roll of French bread in hand. "You should cover yourself in front of me," I admonished as I sat on the edge of his bed and started to ladle the seaming soup into his mouth. "Sorry," he said between mouthfuls, then pulled his sheet up so it covered about half of his rampant cock, which seconds later grew some more and escaped the feeble attempt to hide it. I finally stood and told him, "Call me tomorrow...here's my cell number...I want to hear how you are...understand?" "Yes Sarah....thanks for coming...for everything...for..." "Just get well. And you and I are going to sit down and talk...about all this," I warned as my hand indicated he whole trailer world around me. Then bent and meant to give him a light peck on his cheek but met his lips when he suddenly turned his head. He held my head when I tried to jump back, pushed his wet tongue between my lips, held me as our tongues swirled together. I finally pulled myself free, mumbled, "Oh God," then rushed from the room, my nipples aching, my vagina tingling. I delivered another meal the next day and found him ninety-nine per cent better, the color almost completely back in his tanned skin. But he was still proudly naked...hard...posing...I said nothing while I fed him, but he didn't miss the constant glances I stole of his sex. It made Bruno's look like a baby's. He finally came back to school Friday. "What are you doing tomorrow," he asked at the end of class. "I'm busy." "But I've missed a week's work. What about Sunday?" "I can't. Not in the morning anyway." "I'll come at noon then," he almost ordered and then turned and left the class. ~~~~~~ "Why do you live there? What's going on?" I blurted out seconds after we'd sat down to lunch Sunday. "What do you mean?" "You have a fancy laptop, dress well, Bruno says your motorcycle's worth $10,000. You're living in a hovel. I don't understand." "It's complicated," Johnnie said stalling. "Bruno thinks you're sleeping with rich, gay men." "WHAT! I'm not a homo...is he crazy?" "I know you aren't," I answered looking right into his eyes. "You're a man." "Well...that's okay then," he said, and then after moments of silence added, "I play the market." "Huh?" "The stock market. I trade. Its all mathematics...don't you invest?" "Bruno handles our investments, he's the banker." "I'll teach you," he laughed. He went on to tell me an abbreviated story of his life. His mom had died when he was eight, leaving Johnnie in the care of his step-dad Clem. Clem had apparently had at least a couple of run-ins with the law, one which had produced a six month layover in jail, the other an eighteen month stretch upstate. "He's okay really," Johnnie said. "But who took care of you?" "It was okay, I got by," he said shrugging. "Neighbors, women...they like me." He'd been a runner for the drug boys when he was between ten and fifteen, seemingly a ritual every young boy in the area was expected to undergo. He'd lived with prostitutes who worked the trailer park. "The cops can't do much to a fourteen year old," he explained. "Just pick you up and a couple of hours later they have to let you go." Even at that age he was a prodigy at school and so apparently spent his days studying and running drugs, his nights often in the arms of well worn whores. They taught him. "My god," I finally interrupted, "I never even had a date in high school, you were sleeping with whores." "Bullshit! ... You must have had boyfriends, men who wanted you." "I was a late developer." "You're beautiful...so sexy." "Not then." "If you had been in my class you wouldn't have lasted a week," he bragged. "All the teachers say you don't even have a girlfriend, haven't slept with any of your pretty classmates," I countered. "Like you said...I'm a man; they're just young girls, they don't interest me...I like women." "Like me?" "You're a teacher...married...you're classy, different," he stalled, his eyes trying to read me, seemingly unwilling to take the final step. Was I his mathematics equal or just another whore to fuck? We were circling each other, my need obvious. "So, I guess we should just go and do some work...I thought maybe you were someone else...a man would just take," I challenged softly as I leaned my rear back against the dining room table, "a man who'd make me his slave, his plaything...his..." I didn't finish as he crushed me against him, gasped as he tore the dress from my body. "You're not wearing any underwear?" he questioned as he lifted me and then dropped me naked on the cool polished surface of the Cuban mahogany table. "I was hoping," I murmured as I watched him as he pulled his shirt over his head, then tried to reach for his belt before he pushed me back, stared as he stood between my hanging legs and pulled his jeans off. I couldn't stop the wailing, "Nooooooooooo, aaaaaaaahhhhh," that escaped my lips as he lifted my butt and drove deep into me in one long, hard thrust. My world changed! I found myself in some unimagined realm where huge cocks made me a slave. With his one thrust Johnnie changed too, his concern with having sex with his older teacher completely obliterated by his lust. He held my ass in his hands and pulled me to him each time he plunged his penis deep into my womb, his only thought now the complete domination of this soft, pliant plaything in his hands. For a second I wondered how many other women this boy had subjugated to his will, how many other girls he'd lanced with his magnificent prick. I was just another whore writhing under him. I thought of Bruno, my marriage...then everything was driven from my mind as my need vibrated out from my centre in wave after wave of orgasmic bliss. He simply continued to pump into me, hard, deep, fast strokes that stretched my insides to their utter limit, impaling me, making every nerve end in my pussy fire in ecstasy. Nothing existed but the prick that filled me. He splashed his first string of hot sperm into my open womb just as my second spasming orgasm hit me. Again...and again...and again and again he spurted into my centre, releasing a million eager swimmers into my welcoming channel, little, angry sperm men that were willing to die in their fight to be first to reach and impregnate my waiting egg. He finally pulled out and stood proudly between my legs, his still oozing cock lying in my matted red pubic hair. I slid slowly off the table between his legs, finally coming to a stop when my knees hit he floor, grasped his cock, moved my lips towards his crimson, sticky cockhead. He simply stood with his hands on his hips as I took him into my mouth, laughed when he felt my moist tongue circle him. I knew I couldn't take it all, struggled not to choke when I'd devoured only six fat inches. He was smiling when I looked up and sought out his eyes, and understood that he was willing to let me off this time, but knew soon he simply fuck my mouth, make me take him all, force it in. He finally grabbed my hair and pulled me up his body, then spun me and pushed me tight against the table. His legs pushed my feet apart as he bent me at the waist, spreading me wide as my breasts were squished against the hard, cool wood. I was scared but stayed motionless when I felt him spread my ass cheeks with his hands, almost protested when he rubbed his thick cock against my crack and anus, then gasped in both relief and desire when he plunged into my sopping vagina. We didn't study that afternoon; Johnnie simply fucked me. For four hours we hardly talked, he simply directed me with his hands, bending me, exciting me, igniting me with just the simplest touch. Filling me again and again with his thick, rich cum. Putting his baby in me. I was his slave. Both of us knew I'd do anything he demanded. I knew I had become a different person. I just didn't know then to what extent I had changed. ~~~~~~~ It was impossible that Bruno wouldn't finally discover our secret. It simply got to the point where I didn't care, in fact I wanted him to know. I wasn't willing to go on doing this thing I needed so badly in secret. For close to a month, through the end of October, Johnnie and I had continued to make love. Or perhaps it would be fairer to say Johnnie took me and fucked me at his pleasure. At school, in my bed, at the trailer...wherever, whenever he felt the need...he simply filled me. He forbade me from wearing panties whenever he was in my presence, even during class, insisted I wear skirts... "I want you open, available," he'd say as his hands ran roughly, possessively up my bare thighs. And yet, somehow, through it all we were able to get in hours of serious work. We could work two hours without a seconds break on some convoluted theorem, or discuss the merits of using technical analysis in evaluating oil company stocks, then without warning he'd push me back on the desk, lift my skirt and ram hugely home...he always found me wet...wanting it...churning for him... Finally, in early November, Bruno found me one night sprawled naked in bed when he returned home after work. "I thought I saw Johnnie leaving," he started even as his eyes took in my disheveled state. "He just left." "But?" I didn't answer, just lay back and stretched languorously, watched as he looked at my gaping sex, my open engorged nether lips oozing with my lover's thick sauce. "But," he mumbled, "I don't understand." "We're lovers...Johnnie and I," I said wantonly, "he fucked me all afternoon." Fury, hate, a hundred emotions flashed across his face, and then rushing toward me screamed, "I'll kill you, kill him...that fucking bastard...I'll." He grabbed me by the shoulders, shook me, pulled his hand back to hit me. It simply wasn't in his nature to hit a woman. He fled. For minutes I could hear him rampaging through the house, opening and slamming drawers and doors in his mindless rage. I was still naked on my back when he finally returned, the tears trickling down his cheeks as he sat beside me. "Why? Why?" he moaned. It was no time for soft words, lame excuses; I knew he'd have to understand and accept what I'd become. "He's better...much, much better," I spat out. "What?" "In bed. Making love. He's simply better at it than you. He makes me scream...makes me come..." "How? Why? What's wrong with me?" "I'm sorry." He stood, paced the room before finally turning back. "I can get better...maybe...was this the first time?" "No...for weeks...you could never be as good Bruno," I said harshly, knowing that giving any false hope would be crueler. "He's a different kind of man than you." Through the pain I saw etched on his tear filled face he asked, "So, what, you want a divorce? Throw me out for some boy?" "No," I answered, feeling no pity for this man who buckled so easily to a boy. "I don't understand." "I'm happy here...with you...like this...it's just now I need something else. You'll have to share me...be second...or third." "I can't...won't be able to," he yelled as he stormed from the room. ~~~~~~ "You don't expect me to let another man fuck you, do you?" he demanded when he rushed back into the room five minutes later. "Yes." "Oh Sarahhh," he moaned. "It's not your fault," I finally offered. "What?" "He's big...very big," I whispered, forcing him to lean over to hear me. "How big?" "It's long, very long...and fat...and full of cum...look, I'm still stretched...look at the juice oozing out of me," I said as I spread my sex even further and watched as both repulsion and desire crossed his face. "It's three times the volume of yours." Somehow, Johnnie's size seemed to mollify Bruno, it had moved from being a matter of ability and technique to a simple god given gift, he could much more readily accept the fact that some genetic trick had given Johnnie some unfair advantage over him. "I'm going to have a shower," I said, interrupting the thoughts swirling through his head. "Come and wash me, clean me," I ordered as I grabbed his hand and led him to the bathroom. I laughed when he got hard as he scrubbed my body, grasped his thin prick and then asked, "Do you want to fuck your little wife tonight baby? Fuck mommy?" "No." "Liar." He seemed harder and bigger than he'd felt in a year when he finally started pumping his little cock into me, even lasted long enough to give his still horny wife a mini-orgasm. "You were wonderful tonight," I praised him after he'd succeeding in coming twice. "Not as good as Johnnie," he complained. "It's not your fault," I purred into his ear, knowing he'd already accepted his status. ~~~~~~ It was easier for me after our talk. I no longer had to lie or hide, and was now able to bring Johnnie home more often, it lowered the risk of us being caught at school, of me being discovered with my body stretched over a desk as my favorite student fucked me. Bruno wasn't totally convinced and in the days that followed kept returning to my admission, kept wanting to pick at it like an old scab. "Did you fuck him today," he demanded as we lay in bed one night. "Yes...at lunch time...in the park, he was so big, so hard." "What! Outdoors? Somebody could have seen you," he cried. "He fucked me on the grass...mounted me like a dog, hurt me with his size," I answered, my tone clearly telling him I'd loved it. "The bastard," he howled. "Why do you do it? You could come home..." "It excites him. Excites him to fuck his teacher in public. To fuck a married woman." "But you don't have to." "He makes me obey him." "But you're a woman...an adult...educated, I don't understand." "He forces me. His big cock's my master." "He rapes you?" "He doesn't need to. He simply lifts my skirt, pushes me against the blackboard, enters me...I love it honey," I try to explain. "I can't resist...don't want to. I need it in me...it's my drug..." "But" "He doesn't let me wear panties when I'm teaching him." "You don't wear underwear?" "He checks...every class." "Jesus," Bruno groans, and then moans when I plop his penis into my mouth, shutting him up for a while. ~~~~~~ "Today?" he asked a couple of days later. "At lunch. We came home," I answer, "right here." "In my bed?" "Yes. He was so hard." "I think of you when I'm at work, think of you with him." "He's given us a baby, a baby boy." "WHAT! How do you know? It could be mine. A boy?" "It's his. His thick sperm...apparently his sperm count is off the charts...his doctor told him...he's already made another girl pregnant." "My sperm count is high enough...it could be mine... I can't raise another man's baby." "Johnnies like a stallion...brought in to breed...he'll be gone next year...you'll be the boys father, you'll teach him to fish, to play football," I lured. He started to protest but I could see the wheels turning, knew that Bruno was dying to have a son, was considering the cost to his self respect. "And when he's gone...it'll be just you and me?" "No Bruno," I answered, not wanting any future misunderstanding. ~~~~~~ "God, you're soaking," Bruno protested after he'd slipped into bed next to me after a late business dinner and placed his hand on my mound. "Johnnie was here...I knew you'd be late...I was horny. I needed a big fat prick in me." "But you're dripping." Oh...Sarahhh "He just left. He fucked me again and again," I said languidly, spreading my legs further. I had planned this conversation, knew that with Bruno having more than a couple of drinks inside him, that he'd be more compliant, easier to manipulate. "You should wash, you're sticky, smell," he whined. "You clean me." "What, you think I'm going to get a washcloth, a towel, and clean up after the man who fucked my wife?" "Yes, and with your mouth, your tongue," I ordered. "You're crazy...I'd never." "He came on my tits, on my stomach, my hair, my pussy...lick it," I said as I grabbed his head and pulled it to my left breast. "Never, I won't," he denied as I grasped big chunks of his thinning hair and pushed him down over my stomach, then held his face in my gooey red hair. "Do it for me baby." "You're sick. A slut." I wrapped my legs around him, dug my ankles into his back as I held him motionless between my legs. He finally started to lap, slowly at first but then with an almost insane urgency, cleaning first my thighs, then my stomach, my hair before lowering his wet tongue to my slit, licking up Johnnie's and my joint juices with a ravenous hunger. Bruno had never been a man who liked going down on me, his rare sorties between my thighs had always been at my frustrated insistence and never lasted long. Now, as his lips and tongue worked my clit he slowly woke me, finally forcing me to pull him up my body. "Fuck me...fuck mommy...hurry Bruno," I screamed, and seconds later he was in me, spilling his load as my orgasm hit me. "That was disgusting," he whispered later in the dark. "You gave me an orgasm lover," I purred. "But I hated it...tasting his...yuck," he protested. "You were so big, so hard tonight honey, Daddy's cock was so nice." "It was?" "Uh huh." ~~~~~~~ There was only one more step to take, only one more thing I had to do to ensure Bruno's continuing acceptance of my needs. Johnnie wanted to do it too, some male need to conquer his opponent, I suppose. "Why've you set three places?" Bruno asked when he wandered into the kitchen after arriving home from work a week later. "How was your day?" "A bitch. The VP was in town all day, didn't give Jim or I a seconds peace." "Maybe you should have invited him home for dinner." "That prick? Shit, he flew out at five, off to torture the poor bastard in Miami." "I invited Johnnie...to dinner I mean...I promised to work with him tonight..." "You want me to eat with him? Are you crazy? I won't," he refused. "He wants to discuss moving his accounts to your bank." "What?" There were many periods of uncomfortable silence as the meal progressed. I didn't care. In fact, I took off my panties between courses, sat with my dressed hiked up near my waist as my two men glowered at each other across the table. I played footsie with Johnnie even while I slipped a finger between my wet thighs. Rubbed Johnnie's cock as Bruno discussed his bank. Bruno was slowly worn down by the power of my lover, his confidence slowly worn down by Johnnie's obvious maleness. His eyes would dart to mine when Johnnie would put his hand on mine for a second, would look for my protest before quickly looking away. "Johnnie and I have a couple of hours work honey," I said after we'd finished eating and were leaving the table. "Could you clean up?" He meekly agreed and then later as Johnnie and I worked on our portfolios and investment decisions we heard him watching TV in the next room. "Bruno," I invited after walking to the door separating the rooms, "would you like to see what we've been doing?" The three of us sat shoulder to shoulder in front of the flickering screen for an hour. Ever the banker, Bruno couldn't help but be impressed by the boy's ideas and strategies. But even as he asked his eager questions, his eyes followed my fingers as they caressed the heavy bulge in Johnnie's lap. "I've got to get some sleep," Bruno finally announced, pushing his chair back from the screen. "You'll have to sleep in the guest room tonight." "What?" "Johnnies staying over," I said simply. "But honey," he started, then watched almost spellbound as Johnnie stood and wrapped me in his arms from behind me. He simply fled. I had showered and was standing in a silk, mid thigh length robe, unbelted and hanging open, my breasts exposed, when Bruno came into the room. "Where is he?" he asked even as he heard the shower running. "Showering. Getting ready for bed." "It's not right. This is my house," he complained. "He's giving you a son." "I don't," but then gasped as his eyes looked over my shoulder. "Jesus," he groaned, both his eyes and mouth open wide in amazement. "Hi," I whispered to my lover as he put an arm around my shoulder, his prick waving hugely in front of him. "You're already ready," I complimented him as my hand slipped onto his shaft and circled him, lightly pumped him. He pulled me into his arms, pinning his big cock between our bodies. I slid down Johnnie's body, my mouth open, my tongue licking my lips. "Do you want to stay...to watch?" I offered my still stunned husband before taking the fat shaft between my lips. "No...no," he yelled as he backed towards the door, "I'm going...now," then sped out. Johnnie made me scream that night. He made the house shake with my passion, my joy, my abject acceptance of his maleness, my sexual slave hood, my sluttish need for a big cock. Making sure Bruno understood once and for all. ~~~~~~ November turned into December. I slept with Johnnie most days, often two or three times. He'd only sleep over once a week or so. The other nights I slept with Bruno. All of a sudden he was fucking me more. The man who'd been hard to get hard more than once a week, now wanted to make love at least three times a week. I was ecstatic! More cock in me than I'd ever dreamed of. Johnnie's sex slut slave! Bruno's master! Bruno would never admit it but was probably happier sexually then he'd ever been. I loved the nights when Bruno would lick Johnnie's cream from me and then mount me with his little prick, trying somehow to fill the space just left by my lover. We went back up north for Christmas, a couple of days with Mom in Albany before visiting Bruno's elderly folks in Syracuse. I ached for cock! Even making Bruno service me every day did little to assuage the need I increasingly felt for a long, thick penis. ~~~~~~ "Look at that goddam thing?" Bruno said, watching the small TV in the kitchen over my shoulder as he ate his breakfast on January 3rd, our first day back in Daytona. "Fucking trailer blew up...shit, it says here in Daytona." Turning to watch the screen, it only took me a second to recognize the site, just a second more to be rushing towards the door. "What?" Bruno demanded at my retreating back. "That's where Johnnie lives." It took me only ten minutes to arrive at the trailer park, but it was only twelve hours later when I was able to pry Johnnie from the clutches of the police. "What happened?" Bruno demanded when we finally stumbled exhausted through the front door. Once he started to talk, Johnnie's story came quickly. Clem apparently had decided to cook up some meth in his kitchen over the holidays...the resulting explosion had almost leveled the trailer but due to the fact he was having a crap at the time, Clem had escaped with only minor injuries. "I'd been out, missed it completely," Johnnie said with a wry smile. "You'll live with us. Until the end of term, until you leave for university," I announced. "You'll have to move your stuff honey," I told my husband, "you'll have to stay in the guest bedroom now." "But," Bruno started and then seeing my stare, again meekly agreed. ~~~~~~~ January and February and March were perfect for all of us. Oh, Bruno would complain from time to time, but I knew he was happy, his continuing horniness in the face of Johnnie's presence a daily proof. Meanwhile, I continued to widen as junior grew bigger and bigger in my tummy. ~~~~~~ And then I discovered the world of sexual animals...that world where highly sexed, big cocked predators lurked. Where a woman like I was simply prey to be taken by whim. I'd been marked somehow by Johnnie. I discovered he was just one of hundreds that relentlessly trolled the streets for women like me. For big-cock whores. I all of a sudden recognized them. They could see into me. Men who would have ignored me before now locked their eyes on me...knew what I wanted, knew how easily I could be taken. ~~~~~~ I looked up at the local Polish butcher one day as I waited in his shop, a fifty something overweight man who you'd think wouldn't attract anyone. Yet when I looked into his eyes I knew he'd make me squirm and squeal. Knew that he recognized me for what I was. As he handed me my package of chops his hand caught mine and held me for a second. "After the baby," he said as he held me, "come and see me. I'll have a big piece of meat for you." "What kind of meat, Mr. Slaboski?" I asked, my knees trembling, imagining his sweaty body atop mine, grinding down. "Polish sausage Mrs. Fisher," he laughed, "Spicy, fat Polish sausage, slip it right down your pretty throat." As I scurried home I knew I would have done anything he asked, would have knelt behind his counter sucking him off while he served my neighbor. I stayed away from his shop for weeks afterward. Men I'd never knew existed now seemed to be everywhere. If not for Johnnie and the baby I would have eagerly embraced two or three strangers every week. Even the President and COO of Bruno's bank! William Derringer. In April he made a stop in Florida, part of his annual cross country 'meet the managers' tour. It was a visit that included a lunch for all the North Florida managers and their wives. A feisty bantam weight, the 5'6", hundred and thirty pounder looked innocent enough at first glance, but Bruno had warned me. "He's a prick, the meanest banker in America. Try not to piss him off," he warned. "One wrong word and my career can be ruined." He recognized me for what I was immediately as I stood shaking his hand in the reception line, knew he could bend me over a table and fuck me and I'd never complain. I knew he was big, hard, demanding...knew I'd scream while under him. As we milled about, talking, socializing before lunch was called, I'd checked the name tags on the tables, found Bruno and I relegated to a far corner. And yet, somehow, when lunch was called, I found Bruno and I moved to the presidents table, found myself sitting next to him and facing Bruno across the round table. His hand was on my thigh before the entrée was delivered. We talked. I asked him to dinner. "You're pregnant," he answered, his fingers momentarily brushing my stomach. "Are you married Bill?" I countered, to the consternation of everyone at the table. "Four times," he chuckled, then added, "maybe it would be good to get to meet my people in their homes. Charlie, change my flight will you," he ordered one of his flunkies, "the Fishers have invited me to dinner." Bruno was almost wetting his pants when he got home at six. "Fuck, he'll be here in an hour. Do we have something good?" "Shhh," I interrupted, "he'll love it." Knew he'd love me. "But he's the fucking president." "You better impress him then." "Oh sweet Jesus," he moaned as he rushed off to shower and change. Johnnie and Bill, as the president asked us to call him, sat opposite each other that night, both recognizing the other for what he was. Both these predators put their hands on me as the dinner progressed, taking turns fingering me even as Bruno droned on obliviously at the end of the table. "Is that kid the father?" I heard in my ear as I stood washing up later in the kitchen. I tried to turn but he held me immobile, his hands on my hips as he pushed his body into my back. "Yes." "You like big cock don't you," he breathed into my ear. "Yes sir." "Do you want me?" "Yes sir," I groaned as his fingers slipped under my skirt and pushed it up above my waist. "A slut wife who doesn't wear panties?" "He likes me without...he wants to be able." "Smart boy," he whispered huskily. "Do you like this?" he asked as I felt his now free cock rubbed down my ass crack and pushed between my legs. "Yes sir," I said as I looked down and saw his mushroom headed giant sticking out from between my legs, almost if I'd grown my own penis. "Its big...so big," I whimpered as his strong fingers closed over my heaving breasts. "Touch it," he ordered. As both my hands slowly pumped this oversized organ, he whispered in my ear, "When you've had the baby...then I'm going to fuck you Mrs. Fisher... hard... right on the boardroom fucking table of the Gotham Bank. Are you noisy Mrs. Fisher?" "Yes sir...oh please sir," I begged as his finger slipped inside of me. He finally pulled back and then, after we'd joined the others and he'd thanked Bruno for the invitation, he added, "You've impressed me Bruno, I like your ideas...I want you in New York for the budget meeting in October." Elated, Bruno simply stammered, "Of course sir...I'd love to...I mean...great." "And bring your wife," William Derringer ordered, "She'll need a vacation after having your son." "Yes sir...of course...it's been a pleasure," Bruno said, almost bowing as he escorted him to the door. "Slut," Johnnie hissed at me as the men said goodnight on the porch. "Yes master," I agreed, my fingers squeezing the thick snake pulsing in his pants. I was sucking Johnnie when Bruno reappeared, on my knees on the living room rug, almost gagging each time he thrust his young hips into my face. Bruno was so high from his success he hardly noticed, just watched for a second before dancing from the room. ~~~~~~~~ I was doing a couple of errands one afternoon, just five weeks before the baby was due, when at a stop light I looked to my left and saw a policeman in the car next to me eying me speculatively. Another one, I knew immediately. He let me go a block, two blocks before I suddenly heard the siren behind me, then followed his hand instructions and turned into a small lane, only blocks from home. Watching him as he approached in the rearview mirror I simply knew, knew this thirty year old cop with the bulging biceps and sporting sunglasses would have his will with me. I wanted him to. "Papers ma'am," he ordered when I lowered my window. Then, "Please step out of the vehicle ma'am." "But officer," I started. "Please ma'am," he insisted and then when I'd finally struggled to get out, my dress hiked indecently high on my thighs, he added, "Please turn around ma'am and put your hands on the hood...Bend forward ma'am," he ordered through my timid objection as he placed a hand on the back of my legs. "I'll have to search you Ms. Fisher, Sarah," he said smugly, and snickering added, "See if you're carrying any concealed weapons." For minute after minute he simply did as he wished with my body, pulled down my panties, fingered me, cupped my breasts and squeezed my nipples... "Was that alright Sarah?" "Yes sir," I cried, my sopping need sticky on his fingers. "Too bad you're so far gone Sarah," he said with a touch of regret, "I guess you'll have to perform your community service some other way." He slowly pushed me to my knees, held my hair as he undid his fly and pulled out his straining python. I sucked him, swallowed him eagerly, loved his tasty cum, simply sat back against the car door when he strode off. I wished he'd fucked me. ~~~~~~~ Bruno Jonathon Fisher was born July 22nd, a ten pound, three ounce, blond haired bundle of joy whose birth forever tied Bruno to me. You only had to look at Bruno once as he held Johnnie's baby in his loving arms to understand he'd obey me always. Johnny was proud to be a father, or maybe he'd be better described as being proud his cock, his seed, had fathered the baby. He had no real desire to parent, in fact as the weeks quickly passed we saw his increasing eagerness to leave. He left for Princeton in late August, his one promise to me an assurance he'd come back the next summer and make me pregnant again. "I want them to be full brother and sister," I'd argued to him, "your babies. I don't want another man to impregnate me." "I'll give you another baby," he finally promised his last day home. "But I know you'll be fucking others, any one who wants you," he predicted. Then he fucked me hard all afternoon before leaving for his evening flight. ~~~~~~~ Officially I was on pregnancy leave through the end of October but after talking to and negotiating with the Principal I'd agreed to start in September but for the first term only teach my two advanced seminars. And that's why I happened to be in the common room talking to Jill and a couple other of the other teachers when Joe Brown, our senior chemistry teacher walked by scowling. "What's wrong with you," Jill challenged. "Fuck," he muttered and then seeing us quickly amended, "fudge, I meant fudge." "What is it?" "That little...that little..." and we knew he was searching for a word he could use in front of his female colleagues. "That little shit?" Jill finished. "He's going to ruin our season, our chances," he muttered darkly. I knew it must be something to do with the football team, like Bruno, Joe was an assistant coach with the team. The team was the number one topic of conversation that fall, the team that had reached the quarterfinals of the Florida State four A championships last year was returning most of the team. It also featured the number one high school prospect in the state, a powerful running back who'd scored thirty touchdowns in his junior year while running for twenty-five hundred yards. "They're going to have to flunk Gary Stewart off the team," Joe finally announced to our stunned silence. "They can't," one of us protested, simply saying what we all felt. "He's the star..." "And he's a smart kid...I had in my class when he was a sophomore," Jill added. "He's doing shitty in math, in science," Joe said gloomily. "He keeps reading his own clippings. Fuck, sorry ladies, but that boy's brain is in his dick. No time to study, he's trying to screw every cheerleader in North Florida." "And apparently his brainy dick is quite large," Nancy said laughing. After the four of us had sat pondering this disaster for seconds, Jill piped up with, "You could tutor him Sarah, you'll have lots of time this term. You're good with big cocked boys," she chuckled. ~~~~~~ "We need him honey...shit, we're going to be so good with him playing" "I told you I'd tutor him," I answered. Bruno had arrived home that same afternoon and what was on his mind was exactly what had been bothering Joe – the future playing status of Gary Stewart. "But you'll have to talk to him, convince him," I added. "Can't you do it at school?" he whined. "What's he like anyway?" "He's a nice kid honey. Smart enough, good looking..." "How big is he?" "I don't know. Six-one, six two? Strong, big thighs...can run right through tacklers." "How big Bruno?" I insisted, knowing he'd understood what I wanted to know. "You can't. He's important to the team...you wouldn't," Seeing my stern gaze he wavered, then finally admitted, "He's big...uncircumcised...he walks around after showers with no towel...waving it in everybody's face...you wouldn't want him hon...apparently he's fucking half the cheerleaders." "You'll have to bring him home yourself." "What? I won't." "He can flunk out then, I don't care." "You'll sleep with him. Fuck him." "Yes." "And you want me to deliver him? Bring home another boy who's going to cuckold me?" Oh...Sarahhh "Yes. And then eat him from me." "I won't," he promised as he stormed out. Two days later, after a two hour football practice, Bruno arrived home with Gary in tow. "Hi hon, this is the boy I've been telling you about. I thought he might join us for dinner, discuss his marks and everything. Gary, Gary Stewart." "Hello Mrs. Fisher," the handsome, dark haired teen arrogantly spat out, his eyes jumping from my face to my chest to my groin. He'd recognized me for what I was immediately. I knew he'd fit perfectly...fill me...make me come...and come...I wondered if Bruno would end up watching us... ...then wondered how fat the Polish bakers' sausage was... ...wondered if the cute cop would just bend me over his cruiser and... ...wondered how the president would ever get that fat knob into me... I know I'll soon find out. THE END A Literotica author's pleasure comes from the response of you the reader. Please take an extra few seconds and sent me your vote. Of course I'd prefer a 5, but am quite happy to receive any vote, anything is better than silence. Comments, posted here, or e-mails are especially appreciated and always responded to if I'm furnished a return address. I'd love to hear your ideas and opinions. Let me know if you'd like to hear about Sarahh'hs further adventures. Thanks, Jim S.