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Camille

By: me3957



Cold rain whipped my face as I stepped from the train into the brisk November evening. I had left my car parked at the station knowing that I would not need it anymore. 

It was several blocks to my destination, a dingy strip bar where I would drown my sorrows and prepare for the inevitable. It was wet and miserable, but I was oblivious to the discomfort as I trudged along. Why a strip bar? Sex had been my downfall, the cause of this pain, but I felt compelled to do this. It was the first strip bar that I had ever entered as a young man. I guess that if I could just to feel the good times I had had then, good times that I would not feel again.

Once inside I found an empty booth in the dingy little room. I removed my coat, being careful not to let the cold steel that would bring my final peace in a few hours, fall from the pocket.

"What will it be Mister," the waitress demanded. She was an average woman, kind of pretty, but she was well worn by the trials of life as was I.

"I'll start with Chevez on the rocks, "I replied; hardly able to contain the depression that enveloped my being. "Here is my card, just keep the drinks coming, and tell the bar tender to put on two hundred in tips for each of you."

"Well, thank you," she exclaimed. "We don't get many big tippers in here much anymore. In days past things were really booming here, but now that "the block" has decayed, the big spenders have gone to other clubs."

She returned in short order, placing the drink in front of me. "My name is Betty, would you care for some company Mister," she asked.

"No, I didn't come here for that Betty, just keep the drinks coming," I replied.

She didn't pay attention to my reply and slid in the booth next to me. She must have felt the lump in my coat because she stiffened slightly. "You look like you need to talk, Hon," she stated. "Why do you have the hardware?"

I looked into her eyes, and a tear leaked onto my cheek. I did want to vent my feelings one last time, but in a male like fashion, I could not bring myself to ask for compassion, nor could I explain my intentions. "I will be all right," I advised, "just keep the drinks coming."

As I reviewed my life my thoughts drifted to my childhood. My Dad died when I was two, and I was left at the mercy of a Mother and five older sisters who felt as if my Dad had deserted them. I quickly learned that my survival depended on pleasing them, and I gave into their every wish. I had little self esteem, and I almost failed in business, despite my high degree of talent in the financial analysis field. Finally I took on a partner who could negotiate with confidence, and our business prospered.

Several hours passed, as I drowned my sorrows. I drank the scotch, and some brandy, finally settling on Beck Dark to complete my night. My bar maid danced a few numbers, but I didn't pay much attention. She tried several times to talk, but I was still unwilling. Nothing could change what Camille had done, and without her or the kids, life was just not worthwhile.

I heard "last call" and Betty brought a last beer. "Please talk to me Mister. I don't want you to leave here like this," she pleaded almost in desperation. I won't ask for anything. Just tell me what is the matter and after you are done, you can go do whatever it is that you have in mind."

"It is closing time, time to leave, there is no time to talk now," I said.

"You could let me buy you some breakfast, I would like the company" she volunteered.

"Isn't it your job to get a guy to buy you breakfast?" I asked.

"Sure, I am just some old worn out whore, but I am a person, and I can tell you are hurting. I can forgo tonight's trick for you," she said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I care, damn it," she screamed in frustration. I have my coat, so let's go. I will not take no for an answer, and what is your name, I am getting tired of Mister."

"My name is Bill, Bill McKee," I said. The reason I am here is because I am pussy whipped, now I am letting you do it too," I said angrily. But it was useless, she had her coat and I was following as ordered, just like I always have.

*********

The rain had stopped, but it was still cold. We walked in silence to the harbor plaza, where the lights of an all night café poured onto the street. The inside was bright and cheery, but it was also empty. "We can talk privately here," she advised. Let's sit back in the corner. Now why are you so depressed?"

"My wife left and took the kids to San Francisco. It will be ages before I get to see them again," I said as the tears started to flow freely.

"Why," she asked tenderly.

"It's a long story," I replied.

"We have all night. Tell me everything; I want to know," she stated

"How graphic do you want it?" I asked.

"I want every detail. Tell me everything, and I'll try not to interrupt. I want you to tell me the whole story," she said.

*****

And so I started." It was Sept 9th1999 when I came home for work. I was exhausted and looking for some peace and quite. Camille, that's my wife, greeted me at the door in a very sexy outfit, and she had a martini in her hand. She led me to the sofa and took off my shoes. I am not really used to this kind of care, but I must admit I enjoyed it.

"Honey," she said. "We need to talk."

"Not now, Sweetie, I am too tired," I replied unenthusiastically.

"I want to start college this fall," she continued. "I have put it off long enough, and I am tired of being a housewife. I want to do something important."

"I thought raising kids was pretty important, and we certainly don't need the money," I retorted. "Anyway it's too late. School starts on Monday."

"I have already registered at State and orientation is tomorrow," she advised coolly.

"What," I exclaimed, "Without discussing it!"

"Yes, there is no discussion," she said as she raised her voice." Please honey, sugar, I really want this. I have for a long time. I am going to study in the medical research field. It is something I am interested in, and I need to feel that I have some independence."

I knew there was no need in arguing. She always got her way anyway. I loved her so much that I just couldn't refuse her anything, and she knew it. I think a reward is in order. "Please say nothing and let me do this for you," she whispered.

She looked at me with those doe like eyes and unzipped my pants. In a flash she was on her knees in front of me with my cock out. She made love to it, like nothing I have ever seen before that night. It was wonderful as she licked and sucked me for almost an hour. She rubbed her cunt under her skirt, and I know she had at least three orgasms, but she never missed a beat on her project. Finally I shot load after load of my pearly white juice into her mouth, and she swallowed it all as if it were soda.

"My turn," I offered.

"No this is my treat because you're so understanding," she replied. "I should be home in time for dinner tomorrow, but the kids are going to Mom's anyway to spend the night. You can take care of me then,"

It was early when I got home the next day. The house was lonely when it was empty, as I was used to people around when I was there. Maybe Camille was right. She was home in this lonely house all day. I guess it could drive her crazy.

It was still daylight when Camille got home. I heard her car in the drive and rushed to the door to greet her. I was totally shocked. There she stood, messed up hair, make-up smeared all over her face, buttons torn off of her blouse, and bite marks on her neck. As she drew close I could smell the aroma of sex, a lot of sex.

"I am going to get a shower," she said.

"Hell no you're not!" I replied in the heat of anger. I dragged her into the bedroom and tore her skirt off. "Where are your damned panties?" I demanded.

"I gave them to him for a souvenir," she answered through her crocodile tears.

I pushed her to the bed and pulled her legs apart. She struggled, but she was no match for my masculine strength. Her pussy was open and red. There was still white juice running out, and her thighs were crusted with dried cum, both his and hers. In that instant I didn't know whether to hit her or run, but through my contempt I was excited by the vision before me, and I started to harden. "Why," I asked in a pathetic tone.

"I couldn't help it," she answered.

"What do you mean, you couldn't help it?" I demanded. "Did he rape you? If he did he did it for a long time."

"You don't know how a woman over thirty feels when she believes that she is unattractive and unwanted," she offered. "He made me feel like a woman. It was animal lust in a parking lot in his car. It was pure animal lust and yes, he fucked me over and over again like only a young stud can. He was big and strong and so young, Bill. I was just swept off my feet. I didn't mean to hurt you. It meant nothing, just a good fuck; that's all."

"But I think you are beautiful Camille, I think you are the most attractive woman in the world. I love you, and it hurts so much that you could betray me like this," I said. My resolve was waning though. Her tears always melted me, and her pleas made me want to forgive her.

She reached up and pulled me to her. I know she could feel my hard member and that she would take advantage of my state. She was so manipulative, and she knew my every button. "You're hard darling," she exclaimed. "Would you like to hear what happened? You like being a little kinky." She didn't wait for an answer. "He took me to his car and pushed me in and tore off my panties. He just pushed up my skirt and hopped on. I was already wet, so he just slid right in and started pounding. Bill, he was so hard and so big. I thought all was lost when he shot into me because I had not cum, but he never got soft. He turned me on to my knees and fucked me doggie style for a long time, I think I came three times before he filled me again."

She pulled me to her and unzipped my pants. She didn't even pull them down. She guided my cock into her steamy hole, and I started to fuck her really hard. "He fucked me two more times," she said as she pounded her cunt against the material of my pants. She was so wet and slick, but warm and welcoming I couldn't help myself, I just gave in. "After he was done with me he made me clean his cock with my mouth, Bill. He wiped his beautiful cock all over my face. You can probably still taste it." With that I exploded into her pussy; shot after shot of hot sticky sperm, until I was dry.

"Bill, would you eat me like they do in the stories, please," she asked. I could be humiliated no more than I had been already, so I submitted to her request. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I could taste the cum. It wasn't the greatest thing in the world, but it was tolerable. She came two times as I ate her and she squirted juice over my face. She had never done that before now. Then I fucked her again, hard and fast. I wanted to hurt her, but the harder I gave it to her the better she liked it. As I filled her cunt she started the longest and most intense orgasm that I had ever seen her have.

"I promise, I will never again Bill," she said, but she wasn't very convincing.

Chapter 2    

"Bill, how could you bring yourself to forgive her," Betty asked.

"I don't know for sure," I answered. "I knew that I would lose her and the kids if I didn't. I really had no proof other than her admission that she could deny. Anyway, that night we had the greatest sex we had ever had in our lives, and I wasn't sure that it was not for the better. During the days after that she was happier than I had ever seen her. She was really good to the kids while being soft and feminine to me. That in its way was a change. She was always an aggressive woman and a good sex partner, but there was always something missing. Now there was nothing missing. Can you understand that?"

"What I think is that you are the gentlest and kindest man I have ever met. You seemed willing to let her have her freedom to make her happy," Betty offered.

"I guess so. I did want her to be happy, and I guess if this was what she needed that I could go a long with it. As it was, no one knew, so I wasn't embarrassed, and she acted as if she still loved me. Perhaps it was just raw sex and meant nothing. I decided to let it play out, and tried not to be jealous if it happened again. Maybe it would be over when she finished school," I said. "Do you want me to continue to be this graphic?"

"There's more?" she questioned. Yes, tell me more; tell me everything. I think you need to get this out."

***

After the first two months of school she started coming home late on Friday nights. She didn't seem any different, and told me it was a nice quiet time to use the computers in the library.

"We could buy a computer for you Camille, I responded.

"They have so many programs that we use for only one class," she said. 'It would be a big waste to spend all of the money for so little use."

"Camille, money is not one of our problems," I stated emphatically, but my words fell on deaf ears. 

"After four weeks of late Fridays I decided to do some checking, and found out that the library closed on Friday night at five since most students went home for the weekend. The next Friday I got a baby sitter and went to the campus. It was a big place, but I eventually found her car in front of one of the houses on fraternity row. I knew I couldn't go in, but I took a chance and looked in the windows. Camille was dancing with a guy who couldn't have been over eighteen. Her blouse was open and his hand was up her skirt. When they turned I could see that she had his cock out, and she was masturbating him in time to the music. The dance ended and a fast song started, so they left the dance floor, and I lost her. I went home realizing that I had learned more than I wanted to know."

When she came home, I smiled at her and said, "Study hard Hon?"

"Yes I did," she answered.

I grabbed her and pulled her upstairs and pushed her to the bed. "Oh, this game again," she squealed. "So you know big boy. Oh, you're so tough." I pulled her skirt off, and again I found no panties. "I stopped wearing them," she said. 'It was cheaper since I kept giving them away for souvenirs. Now be a good cuckold and eat my well fucked cunt."

I was shocked by her brazen attack. She was in the wrong, but she was demanding, ordering me to eat her.

"Look Billy boy, if you want to fuck me you have to eat me first," she demanded. "Otherwise let me up, so I can go to bed. If you aren't up to it I can just get myself off." With that she reached down and plunged her fingers into her very red opened cunt. I looked down, and knew that I was defeated. I didn't want to be a cuckold, but I loved her, so I dropped to my knees and started eating her pussy. We made love for the rest of the night, I don't know how many times she had already been fucked, but when I came the last time she started masturbating right in front of me. I just need so much these days, Bill."

The next Tuesday I had an appointment with Ed Hornby, one of my clients to review his portfolio. He owned a surveillance company, so he was just getting ready to put a tape in his VCR to see what he had caught.   

"This professor at the school wanted me to make this tape," he said. "This babe is fucking him for A's, and he wants evidence that it was purely consensual. Usually consensual would not matter, but this one is older, and she is able to make up her mind for herself. He pushed the button and a woman with long black hair came into the picture. I could not see her face, but she looked familiar. 

"May I suck your cock, professor, please?" she said. The voice was familiar. He turned in his chair and she moved behind the desk and dropped to her knees; it was Camille. "What will a blow job get me?" she asked while sucking his cock into her throat.

"A passing grade," he replied. "Oh God Camille, that feels good."

She stopped for a minute and asked, "And if I fuck you too?"

"Oh Camille, keep sucking," He pleaded. "Ok, a "B" for a fuck."

"Your wife's away, isn't she?" Camille asked. Not waiting for an answer she added," Suppose I come over on Friday night and make you feel like a real man all night?"

"Ok, Camille, an "A" for all night Friday night if you fuck me right now," he replied. With that Camille stripped off her blouse and skirt and straddled his cock. I could see the passion in his face as she lowered herself onto his cock. Camille bounced hard on him until he finally filled her cunt with his cum, but it was not all work for her. She started screaming and biting his shoulder as she came. Her orgasm seemed to last forever, much longer and harder than with me.

"Wow what a fuck," my friend said. I am supposed to edit out the references to grades, but I think I will keep the real one in my file. For some reason I think I might need it."

I finished my work there, never acknowledging that the woman in the tape was my wife. I had my proof, but how could I use it. If I did, it would destroy my kid's faith in their mother, and I would hate to do that. I was still in a quandary. As expected Camille called on Friday night to explain that she was going to study late Friday night through on Saturday morning. She arrived home at about one o'clock Saturday. The rest of Saturday and Sunday, she treated me like a king. My every wish was her command. I enjoyed her body in every way possible filling her cunt over and over again. Each time I thought I could do no more, she sucked me back to life, and we kept sharing our love until we both collapsed. I swallowed my pride in resignation."

Chapter 3

"Do you feel as if you were a fool or something?" Betty asked.

"Sure, what kind of dope hangs around when his wife is fucking the whole campus, and then becomes her sub? I guess I am just not much of a man," I replied.

"Look, I talk to dozens of men, men who pay me for sex. Your situation is not that unusual. Some guys even like watching their wives fuck. You sound as if you really loved her," she said.

******

"The rest of the semester went about the same way. She stayed out every Friday night and even some nights during the week. When she got home I began to be the routine slave for her. I took care of the kids, the housework, and even learned to cook. I guess necessity is the mother of invention.

During the summer Camille came home every night as there was nothing going on at school. Some days I could tell she had had sex in the afternoon, I guess for grades mostly, but I had more sex than I had had before her escapades started. I thought that it couldn't be all bad. Even though she was fucking around I was getting as much as I could handle. I never knew she was such a hot piece of ass. I even began to enjoy eating her cum filled cunt.

When fall arrived her activities resumed just as they had left off in the spring. At first it was Friday nights. She would get home pretty drunk and well fucked after the TGIF parties. Each night I got really horny waiting for her because I knew that I would get my reward for being patient. Since the kids would be in bed she would stop at the door and allow me to take off her skirt, clean her pussy, and her thighs. She loved making me feed before she let me relieve my tension in her pussy. I noticed that she would now have orgasms faster and harder than ever. She would also have many more. In the time it would take me to clean her at the door she would have at least two, and sometimes she even collapsed on the floor. I would then carry her to the bedroom, make her a sandwich, and fuck her.

About three weeks into the semester, Camille called me at work on Friday afternoon and asked me," Bill, send the kids to my Mom's for the weekend. I have a surprise for you."

"What's the surprise Camille?" I asked.


Camille



Some years ago, I took an adult-education course in figure drawing at NYU. The class met in a large artist's studio in Greenwich Village, just off Washington Square Park. There were about a dozen students, ranging in age from mid-20s to mid-50s. Each of us sat on an uncomfortable stool before an easel, on which was mounted an oversized newsprint pad, tilted at an angle comfortable for drawing with a pencil.

The teacher was an ancient, bejowled creature with moist basset hound eyes and wiry gray hair that spoked out wildly, like Einstein's. She wore a loose cotton Indian tied-dyed dress that you can pick up at any New York street fair for ten bucks. 

The students, mostly businesspeople, I suspected, were much better dressed. A quick scan of the women's arms, legs, and faces revealed nothing of interest, but then the model for the session, who had been standing off in a corner in a blue terry bathrobe, mounted the platform bearing the bench on which she would sit as she posed for us in the nude. 

Even in the robe I could see that she had a boyish build, with small breasts, narrow hips, and a hard little ass. She was short, about five-three, and wore her straight, light-brown hair short, swept back over her ears and tapering to a point at the base of her neck. It made her look vaguely butch. 

Her face had a skull-like aspect. Her eyes were sunken and dark-ringed, her cheekbones protruded beneath tightly stretched skin, and her cheeks were hollow. High on her right cheek was a swollen red sore that might have been an emerging pimple were it not the size of a silver dollar. I wondered if someone had slapped her around recently.

Her face, aside from thick eyebrows, was hairless, nor were any traces of hair visible in the V the lapels of her robe formed across her chest. But the sleeves of the robe only extended to the crooks of her arms, revealing hairy forearms the likes of which I have yet to see again. The fine brown hair began at her wrists, where it was about a half-inch long, and then continued growing longer and longer as it spread upward. At the swell of her forearms, it had to be eight or nine inches long. 

The hair was neatly swept back over her forearms as if brushed, with the longest hairs extending well beyond her elbows—not up her arms but out into the air! I could thread my fingers through those long silken tendrils as easily as the hair on her head. I could feel her arm hair without actually coming near her arms.

The robe extended to her mid-thigh, exposing the lushest display of female leg hair I have ever seen in the flesh. It was the same light brown as the hair on her arms, and while it wasn't spectacularly long, it was spectacularly dense. The thicket of soft curls began abruptly at her ankles and spread up her legs in an ever-more-flagrant carpet. And her coverage was superbly even: The backs of her legs were as hairy as the fronts, even her knees were dusted with beckoning curls, and her exquisite forest proceeded straight up her thighs without letup as far as the hem of the robe would reveal.

When the teacher directed her to disrobe, nobody batted an eyelash, but my eyes were as wide and burning as Dracula's at the sight of blood. Loose curls hung from her inner thighs, leading up to a crotch that was engulfed in long thick curly hair. Viewed from the side, her bush jutted out from her pubic mound in an awesome star burst, with the longest, thickest hair--that surrounding her hole--forming a tail of hair between her legs a good eight inches long. 

Her hirsute profusion totally covered her ass cheeks and sprouted out of her ass crack like fine fountain spray. And yet, while the hair flowed down over the backs of her thighs in long looping curls, it didn't spread up onto the small of her back. Nor did she have a treasure trail. It was as if a genetic line had been drawn around her waist. Below, she was as furry as a cave woman; above, she was hairless, except for the nipples on her pear-sized breasts, which were encircled by long, corkscrewing hairs; her armpits, each of which sported a full thatch; and her thickly haired arms .

The teacher instructed her how to pose. She was to sit back on the bench, using one of her arms for support. She was to put one foot on the bench so that her leg extended out at an angle. Her other leg was simply to dangle loosely in a position that exposed her hairy cunt. But from where I sat, I couldn't see it. I picked up my pad and pencil and found a free easel that afforded a better view of that feral forest, as the teacher gave me an opprobrious eye. Normally timid in this sort of situation, I was propelled by lust. 

"Start drawing," the teacher announced.

A true artist strives for economy of line. I have seen sketched portraits by Picasso and Matisse that brilliantly captured the subject's psychological essence, yet consisted of little more than a single perfectly drawn line. I drew my lines in small, hesitant segments--the mark of an amateur. Nevertheless, I have a talent for reproducing shapes fairly accurately, if not particularly pleasingly, and after an hour, a reasonable likeness of the posed model began to emerge on my pad. 

At this point, I found myself in a creative quandary: Precisely how much detail should I include? I had drawn the woman's face and figure well enough with my mincing, unconfident strokes, but her most salient feature--her extraordinary hairiness--had yet to be sketched in. I glanced at the work of the students--both women--on either side of me. Their portraits contained no trace of body hair. I faked a stretch and yawn, got up, and wandered around the room. Nobody was drawing the model's hair. Simply acknowledging her hairiness seemed to violate a social taboo.

I returned to my easel. At that point in my life, while I had spurted countless gallons of semen jerking off to fantasies of hairy women, I had never revealed my predilection to a soul. "Ah, fuck it," I thought. I began to sketch in her hair, using fine interlayered lines to capture a sense of its lushness, particularly along the length of her legs and around her crotch, where I felt I did justice to her extraordinary tail of hair. 

The crone who taught the class was moving from easel to easel, making quiet comments. When she approached my easel, she bent toward my sketch. Squinting, she scowled, as if to say, "Oh, you filthy beast!" She then continued on without a word. 

At the end of the session, the model enrobed and wandered among us, checking out our work. "Boy, you really got how hairy I am down pat," she said to me as naturally as if she were complimenting me on how I'd drawn the line of her nose.

"I was inspired," I replied. "You're the hairiest woman I've ever seen. I'd love to photograph you. Are you available as a photographic model as well?"

She gave me a mysterious smirk, then without another word, she went to the far corner of the studio where her clothes hung from a peg in the wall. She tugged on a long-sleeved sweater and wide-leg black slacks. Had I not seen her in the raw, I would have never guessed how hairy she was from how she dressed. What little of her that was showing was hairless. It made me wonder how many other women who cover their arms and legs are secretly hairy underneath.

Boldly, I went up to her. "Let me buy you a cup of coffee," I said. "We'll discuss your rates."

I followed her out the studio door. We went to the first Greek diner we came to. You're never more than a few yards from one in New York. This one was decorated like a vineyard. Plastic bunches of grapes hung from a trellis mounted on the ceiling. We slid into a booth. The waiter, who looked like Quasimodo in a tux, took our order: two coffees, black. 

"So, do you want to photograph me or fuck me?" she said forthrightly.

"Well, both," I admitted. "What's your name?"

She hesitated for a long moment. "Camille," she said finally.

"Are you gay?" I asked, since we were being direct. I thought there was a good chance she was. 

"Most of the time," she replied coyly.

"How did you get that bruise on your cheek?"

"Ah, my pimp knocked me around--that fucken cunt!"

"Your pimp is a woman?"

"Yeah. I told you, I'm a lezzie."

"So your--er, johns--are women, too?"

Camille nodded. "We call them janes."

Cute. 

The waiter set our coffees down with a clatter, slopping liquid into the saucers, then lumbered off.

"Do you ever fuck guys?" I asked.

"Not since high school," she said. She looked in her late twenties. 

"Then what did you mean when I asked if you were gay and you answered, 'Most of the time?'"

"I don't know. I was just thinking." She shrugged.

"Thinking what?" I pressed.

"Thinking that I might like to try it again."

"With a guy."

She nodded and took a sip of her coffee.

I sipped mine, too, and smiled at her. She wore a pouty expression. She gave me a fake smile in return. 

"How about me?" I ventured. "Could I be a candidate?"

She shrugged noncommittally. At least it wasn't an outright no. The thought of fucking a hairy lesbian was so exciting my cock felt like it was going to snap in my pants.

"What about posing for pictures?" I asked.

"But no sex?"

"Is sex an option?

Again the smirk. "Fifty."

"What?"

"I charge $50 an hour to pose."

"Get out. Painters' models only get $20."

"That's not one on one."

She was clever, I had to give her that. 

"Okay."

"Up front."

I fished out my wallet, withdrew two twenties and a ten, and gave them to her. "I don't know how many hours I'll need," I said. "This is for the first hour. Let's go." 

I lived in Greenwich Village myself at the time, on Bleecker Street between Charles and Tenth. My building was fairly modern by West Village standards. It was a large gray-brick box, six stories tall, and latticed with ugly black fire escapes all around. But it had doorman, an elevator, and a roof garden, and it was on a pretty stretch of Bleecker Street that actually looked like the visions people imagine when they think of The Village: French antique shops, quaint cafes, clothiers catering to denizens of the gay bar scene, leafy trees, historical ghosts. 

My apartment was a small one-bedroom. Actually, I had converted the bedroom into a home office--I was a freelance copywriter--put my queen-size bed at the window end of the living room, walled it off with sliding Japanese Shogi screens, and had a love seat, a tub chair, and two large floor pillows in the small space that was left. 

"Sit down." 

I beckoned Camille to the love seat. She took the tub chair. 

"You want some wine?"

"What kind?"

"Chardonnay."

"Is that red or white?"

"White. Cold."

"Sure."

I poured us each a glass, handed Camille hers, put mine on the round glass-top coffee table, and went get my camera gear. 

"Smoke a joint first?" Camille asked. She reached into her pants pocket and produced a big doobie, slightly bent.

I got an ashtray, took a seat on the love seat, and patted the cushion beside me. 

She hesitated, as if considering the implications, then out of what seemed more practicality than anything else, she got up and sat down beside me. 

"Spark it," I said.

She produced a Bic lighter, lit the joint, took a deep hit, and passed it to me. I did likewise and passed it back. It was good stuff. By the third toke I was wasted. I took a swallow of wine to rid my mouth of the dryness. Then I kissed her. I did it quickly, without warning, because I knew that if I gave her the slightest advance notice, she would rebuff me out of habit. I pressed my lips hard against hers. She grabbed my shirt at the shoulders tightly, but I couldn't tell whether she was resisting or not. I kept working my lips against hers. Then she uttered a soft moan and I could feel her jaw relax. I thrust my tongue into her mouth. She started breathing hard and hot. She clutched my hair as she tongued-kissed me back. I thrust a hand between her legs and rubbed her crotch. Hard. Her legs fell open and she humped against my open palm. Her breath quickened.

Abruptly, she pulled my hand from between her legs.

"I thought you were going to take pictures."

"Oh." 

I already had a good buzz, but I sparked up the joint, took another hit, and passed it to Camille. After I blew out the smoke, I said, "Well, get undressed."

She rose, and in three quick movements, she stood before me naked. In the studio, I had admired her from a distance. But now, viewing her extreme hairiness up close for the first time, my previous awe was renewed. The hair on her arms and legs bristled out enticingly. Even though her pubic hair was matted from being enclosed in her panties, the pressed hair was so thick it swelled up from her crotch in an incredible hairy mound. I had made her wet when I fondled her, and several clumps of hair around her hole were encrusted with her dried juice. 

My TV was by the bed. I asked Camille hold her arm near the screen. Even though she was a foot away, the static electricity created by the screen made all her arm hair, from wrist to tricep, stand straight out; it nearly covered the distance. 

"Your arms are unbelievably hairy," I murmured.

"Does that turn you on?" she said coyly.

"Yes."

She clasped her hands behind her head. 

"And do you like my hairy armpits?"

"They're incredible. You're as hairy as a man."

She seemed to take pleasure in his observation.

"Fluff up the hair in your left armpit," I instructed.

She tugged at the hair. "Like this?"

"No, that's not quite right," I lied. "May I?"

She nodded.

I began to separate her armpit hairs individually, feeling their delicious length as I pretended to arrange them artistically. Her hair was slightly dewy and gave off a rich musky scent. 

"It's taking you an awful long time," she said.

"Done." 

I snapped off two shots. 

"Now lick your armpit."

She did as she was told, her long tongue snaking into her thick aromatic thatch.

"Did you like that?" Camille asked when I had my shots.

"You know I did, you little tease," I replied. "Say, do you mind if I get undressed? I think better creatively without clothes."

She considered it. "How do I know you won't just take me and hold me down and fuck my brains out?" she said.

"Is that what you want me to do?"

She didn't answer. She rubbed the hair on her arms, threading her fingers through the long silken forest. "Okay, you can take your clothes off," she said.

I stripped them off. My cock was rock-hard and twitching. Camille looked at it. "You're pretty hairy yourself," she said. "And big."

"Do you like that?" I asked. Two could play this game.

When she didn't reply, I asked, "Would you like to touch it?"

When she made no move to do so, I took her hairy wrist and drew her hand to my cock. I could feel the thicket of curls on her wrist tickling my palm. "Go ahead, take it," I said. "It's not going to bite you."

She grasped my penis in her hand. She felt my hairy balls and ran her fingers through my pubic hair. She started jerking me off. Then suddenly she stopped, letting go of my cock as it throbbed for more. "Don't you have more pictures to take?" she asked.

My boner was twitching in swollen agony, but I reached for the camera. "On the bed," I instructed. "On your back. No, don't lay down. Sit up, but at an angle, propped up on your elbows. Now spread your legs. Wider. Wider. Come on, show me your whole hairy crotch. Now, take your right hand and with your fingers spread your cunt lips apart so I can see your clit."

Her clit was enormous: two inches long and thick as pencil. It hung limply above her hair-engulfed cunt lips.

"Wow, that's a big one!" I marveled.

"Do you like it?" she teased.

"Does that thing get hard like a cock, or is it always sort of drooping like that?

"Oh, it gets quite hard," she said. 

"Then make it hard," I instructed.

She began to stroke her long clit. I could see that she was getting wet again. I could smell it. And then, there it was, hard and twitching, a glistening pink nub tapering to a dark-tipped point, jutting straight out of her forest of pubic hair. 

"That's great. Hold that," I said. But by the time I got her erect clit in focus, it had wilted. She jerked herself off again but couldn't get it back up.

"Mind if I try?" I asked.

"Do you know how to eat a woman?"

I grasped her legs by the ankles and ran my hands through her leg hair, feeling it prickle at the swell of her calves, feeling the thick curls carpeting her inner thighs, thrusting my greedy fingers into that glorious bush. I spread her cunt lips to expose her clit. The scent of her cunt was intense. I took her clit gently between my lips and began to suck it like a little cock. It grew rock-hard against my tongue. It was so long in its tumescent state that my head was actually bobbing up and down while I sucked it. I bit it gently, raking its full length with my teeth, my nose buried in Camille's cunt hair, and she began bucking hard against my face. 

So violently was she humping that I had to clutch her hairy ass cheeks to keep her from throwing me off. While I was at it, I spread them wide, totally exposing her hairy asshole, and plunged a finger inside. 

She went crazy as I sucked her throbbing clit and finger-fucked her shithole with abandon. "Oh shit, oh shit!" she moaned. "Oh, suck my big clit, baby. Suck my monster."

When she came, she grabbed my hair, mashed my face into her hairy crotch, and began to hump in an extensive series of short quick thrusts. I could feel her hairy thighs locked against the sides of my head as she ground her cunt hair into me. "Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!" she cried as she shot her load.

I climbed on top of her, thrust my cock into her mouth, and fucked her face vigorously. Her hollow cheeks pulsated as she sucked my hairy dick. "Let's sixty-nine," I said. "You get on top." Camille did as she was told, squatting over my face. I grabbed her tail of hair with my teeth and gave it a playful tug. 

"Oh!" she cried, and shoved her hairy crotch into my face. 

A moment later, my cock was engulfed in the wetness of her mouth. I ran my fingers through the lush curls on the backs of her thighs while I tongued out her hole, sucked that stupendous clit, and licked all the hair on and around her pussy. 

I lifted my head and ran my tongue through the thick hair sprouting out of her ass crack. She responded by licking my hairy balls, taking one of them gently in her mouth, and plunging a finger into my asshole. I spread her ass cheeks wide, opening her hair-fringed asshole wide enough to afford a glimpse of its dark recesses, and plugged the gap hotly with my tongue. 

Camille responded in kind, and we licked each other's hairy assholes for several exquisite minutes. The punky taste of her shitter excited me even more.

The time had come to fuck her. Earlier, she had fretted that I might take her against her will. I wondered if that's what she really wanted me to do. There was only one way to find out. 

"I'm going to take you now," I announced.

A quick reversal, and I was on top of her. "You are so hairy," I said. "You know you want me to fuck you." 

She tried to resist, locking her hairy legs. I grasped her ankles, taking a moment once again to run my fingers through the coarse hair covering her calves, and pried her legs apart. Her hole was wide open, ready for me to enter her. Her fully erect clit twitched like a pink wand. The long hair surrounding her hole was fragrant with her juices. 

She tried to push me away. I grasped her hairy arms by the wrists and pinned them over her head on the bed as I rammed my cock into her to the hilt. "Oh baby, you are so big," she gasped as I entered her. I could feel her moist forest of hair grinding up against mine. The bristly hair of her thighs rubbed against mine as well. I was pumping into her hard, with piston-like thrusts, and she was humping up to meet me each time. 




Camille



"How do you like being fucked by a man?" I growled.

When she didn't answer, I buried my face in one of her hairy armpits, then the other, swirling the hair around with my tongue and tugging it with my lips. I sucked her hairy nipples, too, pumping my cock into her hairy cunt all the while. Her hairy legs hung open, dangling in the air as my lusting prick drilled her repeatedly. I could feel her huge clit prodding at the base of my dick as I slid in and out of her sopping slit. 

"Tell me!" I commanded.

"This is great," Camille groaned, gripping my ass cheeks and pulling me toward her to deepen my thrusts even more. 

I released her arms. She rubbed her hairy wrists. With my hard cock still inside her, I propped up her hairy legs on my shoulders. Her feet were nearly in my face. Long brown hairs sprouted from the knuckles of her first three toes on either foot.

"I'm going to feel your hairy legs while I fuck you," I told her. "I want you to feel your hairy arms at the same time."

I started ramming my boner into her again, this time running my hands up and down the thick hair on her legs as I pounded her pussy with all the force I could muster. Camille pulled at the long hair on her forearms as I fucked her thoroughly and flicked her tongue out at me lasciviously, urging me on. 

"Do you like it when I feel my hairy arms?" she asked lustily. 

"It really turns me on," I purred. 

She began to rub and massage her forearm hair vigorously. "Oh!" she chirped as my dick grew even harder inside her.

"Do you like it when I feel your hairy legs?" I asked.

I was giving her hairy calves a workout, mussing up her hair, rubbing her legs up and down constantly with my hands as I ground my crotch against the thick cushion of hair on her mound. Her legs were so hairy, it was as if they were an extension of her cunt.

"I love it, baby. It's so fucking hot," Camille hissed. "Feel all my dirty hair." 

Hearing that while I fucked her drove me to the edge of cumming. Grasping her ankles, I pushed her legs away from me. My cock popped out of her hairy cunt, but now the puckered pit of her hairy asshole was totally exposed to me. I was close to shooting my load, so there wasn't time for preliminaries--like asking permission. I just shoved my dick straight into her shit hole and kept pushing until the hair tufting out of her ass crack was pressed against the hair of my cock. Then several swift savage thrusts with the tight grip of her anus supplying the necessary friction, and I came violently in her hairy shitter. I actually felt my penis momentarily contract with the forcefulness of the buildup, and then splat, splat, splat, splat--my dick jerked spasmodically as I filled her anal cavity with my thick cream. 

"Oh God, oh God, oh God!" Camille cried as she jerked off her long clit, pumping it up and down with her thumb and forefinger as it jutted out lewdly.

I fucked her two more times more times after that. She remained ambivalent about fucking a guy, though she obviously liked the purely physical part of it. Ever since I'd started balling her, she'd been acting funny around the other lesbian hookers in her stable, she told me--less enthusiastic. Her pimp, Olive, had said something to her about it. 

Then I heard through the grapevine that Olive had murdered Camille. I never learned the details, other than that Olive shot Camille with a twelve-gauge she kept in her bedroom closet. The back of Camille's head had been blown off. Her death was ruled a suicide. I wonder how much money it took to make that stick? 

Camille was a tough girl in a tough racket. She was confused and a little strange. (Who isn't these days?) But she had a good heart. She was great in bed. And her body hair was something else. I'll always remember her.



Camille and Brandy



Camille and I met several months ago at a party given by a mutual friend. We're both widowed, in our early 60s, financially secure, and physically healthy. We hit it off well and enjoy each other's company. Sex is still on the minds of people in their sixties, although it is not as frequently the all consuming passion it is for younger people. Thus, Camille and I enjoy each other in bed as well.

I was at her house early one evening when we decided to have a roll in the hay before dinner. As foreplay, we used her large, walk-in shower to clean up, play with the shower wand (it stimulates her clit and tickles my balls), and fondle each other's naked bodies.

While we were drying off Camille reached down, grabbled my dick, and said, "Keep that big boy hard, lover, because Mama wants to fuck." Just as she said that, a voice at the door to the bathroom yelled, "Mother, what are you doing?" I turned to see a woman who looked to be about 35. She was tall, maybe six feet, and had red hair. She was wearing a white bikini that left little to the imagination. Her nipples were clearly visible through the shear top and the bottom revealed a prominent camel toe. I knew Camille had a daughter I had not met and I assumed this was she. It appeared she had been availing herself of Camille's pool.

Needless to say, I was pretty embarrassed. Not only was I naked with an erection, I was fondling her mother's tits. I dropped the towel in the confusion, so I moved behind Camille in an attempt at modesty. Camille looked at her daughter and said, "In answer to your question, it's none of your business what I'm doing. Now, go away."

"You're acting like an old fool," Brandy replied.

"I'm acting like an adult," Camille said. "I'm entitled to a life and if I want to entertain a man, I will. By the way, Lynn, this is Brandy. Brandy, this is Lynn. Now, go away so we can be alone."

Brandy just stood there for a few seconds and then said, "You're going to fuck him, aren't you?"

"Yes," Camille said, "I'm going to fuck him. Now go away and stay away until we've had time to screw." Abruptly, Brandy turned and left. As she did, I noticed the bottom of her bikini was a thong that revealed two perfectly round, firm ass cheeks.

It took some doing to get me back in the mood, but Camille has talent. She loves to talk dirty and will do whatever is necessary to get me hard. In bed she talks about twat, cunt, pussy, dick, and cock. When she gives me a blowjob, she swallows and she loves for me to masturbate and cum on her face. She grinds her pussy into my face when I eat her and screams when she comes. She also likes to be spanked, wear garter belts and stockings, and sometimes be blindfolded. Camille taught me to lick chocolate sauce off her tits, drink champagne from her navel, and get a strawberry out of her pussy with my tongue. When we finish a bottle of wine, she likes to put on an amateur porn show for me and see how far up her pussy she can fuck the neck of the bottle. The woman is awesome!

Camille is also very attractive. She is 5'10" tall with short strawberry blonde hair and freckles. Her breasts are 36 DD hangers that slide up and down my chest when she's riding me on top. She also likes to have me titty fuck her and give her a pearl necklace, shooting cum all over her neck. While she keeps herself in good shape, time has widened her ass a little, but I like a broad bottom.

A few days later, Camille and I were out to dinner when she told me that Brandy had come by and apologized for the other night. Brandy ended a bad marriage and to compensate for loneliness after the divorce, concentrated on her work. She had not dated in a couple of years and felt sexually frustrated. Camille then hit me with a request. As a way to help Brandy, would it be OK if she watched us? Although this was an exciting possibility, I hesitated and asked how it would work. Camille said that Brandy would probably just get naked and masturbate, but that she might also want to join in. This way, Brandy could work off some sexual tension. I had never watched anyone else have live sex and to my knowledge no one had ever watched me. Finally, I agreed because I really care about Camille and because my dick grew rock hard imagining Brandy rubbing her clit while her mother and I fucked.

Camille called the next Saturday and asked me to come over and "relieve the tension in her pussy." More than glad to help I took off for her house. When I walked in, Brandy and Camille were sitting in the living room drinking white wine and watching a porn flick. It appeared to be a gangbang movie with one woman taking on five guys. A gangbang is Camille's fantasy. She told me she had always thought it exciting to imagine a group of naked men lined up with hardons wanting to fuck her. In her fantasy, she lies on a bed in a sexual bliss and takes them in her pussy one behind the other as their cum fills her twat. She fucks 20 guys and licks every dick after he pulls out. 

When the ladies saw me, they poured me a glass of wine and told me to sit and watch with them. Porn flicks, no matter how poorly done, get me hard. Camille and Brandy were obviously turned on as well. Each rubbed between her legs as she watched the movie. As soon as it ended, Camille stood; pulled the sundress she was wearing over her head and revealed only thigh high black stockings under it. Normally, she had a landing strip of pubic hair, but today she was completely shaven. 

"Come on, Lynn" she said, "let's go fuck."

I didn't need a second invitation and we headed for the bedroom. I looked back at Brandy and saw her down her wine and follow us. I was getting undressed when Brandy entered the room, and I hesitated. 

"I've seen you naked, Lynn," she said, "and you're about to see me naked." She stepped out of her jeans and pulled off her t-shirt revealing gorgeous natural tits with just a little sag. Brandy was a real redhead with curly orange pubic hair and she was very muscular. As I mentioned, she is six feet tall and has thighs like tree trunks -- shapely and strong without any hint of fat. I guessed she could fuck you to death. 

Brandy added, "You and Mama go for it. I'm just going to rub my pussy for a while."

With that, Camille pulled me to the bed and put her right nipple in my mouth. As I sucked her tit, she played with my balls and out of the corner of my eye I could see Brandy sliding a finger in and out of her pussy. I was about as turned on as I could get -- or so I thought.

Brandy moved to the bed and said, "Mama, let me fuck him, please. I haven't had a dick in my cunt in two years. Please, Mama. He can cum in you, but he can get me off. Please!"

Camille, said, "Sure, honey, you go ahead and fuck him. He can last that long and I think he'll like that young twat of yours on his cock."

I rolled on my back and Brandy straddled me and lowered herself onto me. Her wetness helped my dick slip right in. She began to ride me and, since she is taller than I am, her tits glided across my face. Camille rubbed Brandy's ass and encouraged her to have a great orgasm. "That's it, baby," Camille said. "Fuck him until you explode. Use that hard cock. Spread your juices all over his cock and I'll lick them up before I ride him."

"I such a slut, Mama," Brandy cried out. "I'm just such a fucking slut."

"It's OK, baby," Camille said. "We're both whores, honey. We just love cock too much."

After just a minute or two, Brandy's nipples became hard and she began to shudder. "O, God," she screamed, "I'm going to cum! Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck -- god this feels so good." 

"That's it, baby," Camille said, "Scream while you fuck him. Act like the little slut you are."

Brandy finally relaxed and let all her weight fall on me, squeezing my dick with her pussy. "Thanks, Lynn," she whispered in my ear. "That was great. It came too fast because it's been so long, but I really needed that."

Returning the compliment, I said, "You're a great piece of ass." She rolled off and gave me a long, tongue filled kiss.

True to her word, Camille moved down and began to lick Brandy's juices off my dick. I warned her to be careful or I would cum too soon. She was gentle, however, and then really shocked me. When she pulled up from my dick, she rolled over and kissed Brandy full on the mouth. Breaking the kiss, she said, "Lynn tastes good, doesn't he, baby?" 

Brandy licked her lips and answered, "Oh, Mama, he does taste good. I can't wait to taste his cum." I wasn't sure what that meant, but I soon to found out.

Camille rolled on top of me and slid my hard dick into what was, even for her, an extremely wet pussy. She began to rock back and forth, cowgirl style, with those big tits brushing my chest. Looking into my eyes she smiled and said to Brandy, "Baby, you know what I like -- give it to me."

I watched as Brandy reached under the bed and came up with a ping-pong paddle I didn't know was there. Camille liked to be spanked and even spanked me some, but it was always with our hands. Brandy positioned herself next to Camille and I heard a loud 'slap.' "Oh, that's it, sweetheart. Spank me. Your mama's been a bad little bitch. She's a fucking whore and she lives for a big dick up her cunt -- spank her hard." Brandy did just that -- slapping each cheek again and again with the paddle. Camille began to moan, looked at me again and said, "God, I love to fuck you." She started to cum. "Yes, yes, yes. Fuck, I'm, cumming. Spank me! Fuck me! Aghhhhh!" With her eyes closed, she fell forward on my chest, breathing hard and continuing to grind her shaved groin on my dick.

"Your ass is really red, Mama," Brandy said.

"I hope so. I love having a red ass. Sometimes I get up the next morning and see those pink butt cheeks and get a wet pussy all over again." Turning to me she said, "Lynn, honey, I want you to shoot your cum up my cunt."

I rolled her over, keeping my dick in her and began to pump. When I was about to cum, I knew it was going to be one hell of an orgasm. Finally, my dick started to contract and I felt myself squirting cum in her tunnel. I had been right. This was one huge explosion. I waited until I was completely empty and then I rolled off.

Camille was lying on her back, her legs still spread, when Brandy moved up between them and put her face in her mother's pussy. Camille moaned with pleasure as Brandy licked and slurped my cum from her mother's cunt. "That's it, sugar, drink Lynn's cum from my pussy. Taste that love juice. Eat me, baby. Eat me."

After a minute or so, Brandy raised her head to reveal cum and pussy juice on her face and in her mouth. She came straight to me and gave me a long kiss, moving cum and pussy juice around with her tongue. It might be the most erotic moment of my life. I had tasted my own cum before. My deceased wife would kiss me after she gave me a blowjob and I liked that, but this was something else and I was turned on again.

Then Brandy kissed her mother and Camille kissed me -- sharing cum and pussy juice all around. At 64, after an afternoon of sex, I was still hard. Brandy said, "Lynn, I still need cock. Can I ride your hardon for a while? My pussy still itches for a dick." 

I agreed, of course, so Brandy sat on top of me and rode my cock to another orgasm. This time it was so intense she cried. I didn't cum again, but I enjoyed those tits in my face. 

After a nap, we ordered pizza and ate it naked in bed. Brandy went to the door when the delivery boy came, wearing a T-shirt, no bra, and black thong panties. She took the pizza and told him to come in while she got her purse. She had left the purse on the floor so she would have to bend over to retrieve it, giving the pizza boy a full view of her gorgeous ass. She walked back with her tits swaying under the flimsy T-shirt, paid him and gave him a tip. He said, "Thank you," but never looked at the money. At his age, he probably beat off in the delivery vehicle before he left the driveway.

Our Saturday orgies became a regular thing. We fucked, we spanked, and I became of big fan of creampies. As time went on, we talked dirtier and acted nastier. It was the high point of the week. Eventually, Brandy met a man her age and they developed what turned out to be a long-term relationship. After she dated him for several months, Brandy introduced him to our orgies, and that is a story all its own. 



Camille & Shelli



Camille closed her eyes and smiled in the darkness. Snuggled in close to her, Shelli slept quietly, her exposed chest rising and falling with her steady breathing. 

Her desires and passions had been fulfilled by Shelli, together they found pleasure in each other's company. And found that they pleasured each other in ways Camille had only imagined before. 

While Shelli had been, up until meeting Camille in the strip club, a heterosexual woman, she was now bisexual and very comfortable with that. Shelli was petite, yet strong and athletic, her body showed defined muscles and radiated strength. Shelli's body excited Camille. She got very aroused by watching Shelli stretch and flex, watching the curves and lines of her body transform and move made her that much more attractive to Camille. Shelli had an all over tan, with no tan lines visible. Shelli's body projected strength and confidence. 

Shelli, who slept comfortably in the softness of Camille's' bosom was at first a bit unsure of her new found sexuality. But after a while, she took it on in the whole cloth. Camille could not wait now for the times when Shelli could stay with her over night or through a weekend. They would spend their time doing girlie things or making love to each other as only one woman can make love to another. Camille was a voluptuous woman, with curves and soft skin pale white skin. Her full breasts swayed beneath her clothing, causing many a man's eye to wander. Her hips moved in a feminine fashion, and on the whole her body radiated sensuality, fertility and passion. 

Even now Camille was feeling herself becoming aroused just being so intimately intertwined with Shelli. Her sex was wet with desire. She reached down between her legs and touched herself feeling that familiar double jolt of touch and touching. She lingered, stoking her fires, touching, caressing, probing, seeking. 

"you horny slut... you've started without me" Shelli whispered through half closed eyes. 

Shelli's hand covered Camille's and their fingers touched and teased.

Camille looked back at Shelli with mock embarrassment, "You were asleep, and I did not want to disturb you... mmmm your touch is ... ohh..."

"now then isn't it better?"

Shelli's lips found Camille's and they kissed, deeply tongues dancing, swirling, seeking, hiding, chasing...

Their lips parted and Shelli asked, "you want to try it again?"

"practice makes perfect"

Shelli rolled away from Camille for a moment, reached over the edge of the bed and brought back one of their toys. 

Shelli sat up, her firm body revealed in the light. The strap on dildo was large simulation of a male organ, flesh colored and was textured and rippled. Her eyes looked at the dildo and then to Camille. 

"so - shall I fuck you, or shall you fuck me?"

They both laughed for a moment, then Camille replied," I want to fuck you, after all he's your husband."

"Ok", and Shelli handed the Dildo to Camille.

Camille spread her legs, revealing a perfectly shaved and smooth womanhood. Wet around her labia and dark colored, engorged with desire. She sat up and buckled the toy around her waist securely. She could feel the teaser brushing against her sex. She ran her hands up and down her body, caressing her breasts, abdomen, and thighs. 

Shelli's lips found hers and they kissed for a long moment, passion building, Camille gradually laid Shelli down and positioned her below. She grasped the dildo between her hands, she needed both, and began to tease Shelli's sex with the tip. Her lips parted and Camille could see Shelli's pink wetness.

Her hips thrust slightly.

Finally Camille began to press the toy into Shelli's sex. 

"ohhh... slowly... please..."

Camille pressed in deeply, pushing in almost all of the toy.

"Oh man this just fills me up, like it's going to come up my throat"

Camille withdrew until the tip almost slipped out and then plunged in again.

"oh my god... I feel stretched and... Oh..."

"deeper?", Camille whispered.

"Yes, deeper"

Camille pushed in until her groin was against Shelli's. 

Shelli gasped. 

Camille pulled back and then in again. Shelli's face flushed, and she gritted her teeth.

"He may just be to big for you... "

"hmmm... we've been over that... ohhh...

Camille began to work her hips back and forth, her breasts swaying and bopping. Shelli reached up to grasp one, then slid her hands down to Camille's hips, surrendering to herself. 

Shelli's orgasm was deep and intense, her whole body seemed to be on fire and freezing, numb yet alive. Her whole body turned a deep pink, and her nipples engorged pointing skyward. Her vision blurred and spun.

Finally it was over and Camille stopped and just rested inside of Shelli. 

A hand reached up to caress Camille's cheek. Camille smiled down at the disheveled, pleasured, Shelli beneath her. She withdrew the toy and removed it from her body.

"My turn" she said, "Fuck me with it, fuck me hard..."

Camille raised herself up onto her knees, offering herself to be taken, she buried her face on her pillow. 

Shelli, still breathing hard and her body tingling from pleasure, moaned and raised herself up onto her elbows. She gazed at the smooth creamy skin before her, ran her hand across the soft flesh or Camille's back, and bum. She fingered Camille's ass briefly eliciting a soft sound and a push against her fingers. Shelli found the wetness between Camille's legs and her fingers teased the soft pink flesh of Camille's sex. Finally she rose to her knees and placed the toy around her waist. She could feel the teaser touch her sex and so near to her last orgasm, it sent a bolt of sensation through her. 

She could see Camille peering back, her ass swaying slowly in the dim light. Camille was touching herself, fingering her sex and her ass. Shelli bent closer, she could sense Camille's arousal, the musk of her scent. She opened her mouth and her soft pink tongue touched the pink wetness of Camille's smooth sex. 

Shelli paused for moment, savoring the taste and the touch of another woman's most intimate place, then allowed her tongue to slide up to where Camille was least expecting it, the deep pink rose bud between the cheeks of her bum. Camille squirmed and gasped with pleasure of the warm and wet sensation radiating from her backside. 

Losing herself in the sensation, Camille allowed her hands to touch, caress and squeeze herself. shocks of sensation radiated from her breasts, as she tweaked and pulled on her turgid dark nipples. 

Shelli stopped and pulled away.

"oh god, don't stop..." Camille moaned. 

Then she could feel the tip of the toy touching the entrance to her tingling sex. 

Shelli slowly pressed the toy into Camille's depths, while Camille pushed back against her. Camille's ass pressed up against Shelli's hips as the dildo filled her completely.

She grasped Camille's hips and began to thrust her hips moving the toy in and out of Camille. Sensations slid through her, as the toy flexed and shifted against her, touching her intimately as if to answer her thrusts. 

Camille Could feel every bump, ripple and texture of the firm, yet pliable toy sliding inside her. Camille felt filled with each thrust, her sex gently being stretched by the dildo's size and girth. Her face flushed with passion, and she could feel Shelli thrusting harder and faster with each passing moment.

Shelli was a strong, athletic girl, and when she did Camille this way, Camille really did feel ravaged. As if a strong man was having his way with her. She never permitted a man to do her like this, because she did not want to give up this much control, but for Shelli she gave up all control and abandoned herself to pleasure. 

Camille could feel herself losing her control...

Waves of pleasure began cascading through her body...

She bit her lower lip, trying to stay on the edge...

"ohhh god.... yes.... fuck me... Shelli... oh god yes..."

Camille buried her head in the pillow in front of her and began to scream as her orgasm swept her away. Her whole body shuddered in the pleasure and passion of release. 

Shelli continued to ravage Camille as her orgasm subsided. Shelli could feel another of her own approaching. The toy gave both users pleasure.

Camille's breaths came in deep rasps as she rode backside of her cumming, realizing that Shelli was not done, Camille griped the bed sheets in her clenched hands feeling the dildo work it's magic again. 

After a fashion, Shelli and Camille settled into a warm tangle of skin and sated pleasure. 

"Camy?"

"mm?"

"I want you to do him"

"I know that"

"No, I want you to do him soon."

"oh?"

"Only because, well, because I want this in the open. So he knows. About me and about you"

"well how do you wanna do it?"

" I want to...

------

Camille's heart was pounding in her chest. It felt as if her breasts were vibrating to the beat. Her excitement was as high as it she could ever remember. 

But she told herself, remember - breathe. It's important to breathe. 

Her eyes swept the room, searching for him. In the dimness she could see the usual late lunch stragglers. The men who, for what ever reason, had time to play during or after their lunch hours.

The music pounded away as Allison swayed to the beat, her lithe body illuminated by the stage lights. Set in sharp contrast to the dim room. 

Shelli's idea was risky, it could cost Camille her job. But having felt Rich's arousal during her dances for him, she could not help herself. 

She desired it. Longed for it. Wanted to be swept away by it. 

But first she'd have to find him. Tease him. Seduce him. Own him. And then train him.

She sighed. And then she heard her name called by the DJ, she was to follow Allison up on stage. As she approached the stage she saw the front door open and someone entered the club. 

Allison stepped down from the stage and bent over to collect her things, giving Camille an unrestricted view of her petite bum and dark pink sex. Camille ignored this display and tried to see who had come in. In the bright lights of the stage she couldn't tell, but she needed to start her routine as her music was starting up. 

Camille stepped into the light and began her practiced routine. Sexy without being crass. Inviting without being overt. 

She slowly revealed herself to the assembled audience. Touching her breasts, lifting them, teasing her nipples. All the while scanning the room. 

She realized that the final minute of her song was coming up and she needed to completely disrobe. Without much ceremony she untied her thong and allowed it to drop to the floor. This revealed her completely. Her soft white skin glowed in the stage lights, only to be contrasted by her red hair and large dark nipples. 

Revealing yet concealing. Some things she saved for the private dances.

Her music stopped, and the light applause could be heard. The DJ called the next dancer and Camille collected her costume. She really wanted a stage door where dancers could escape afterwards, if only to collect their things and dress, as it were, in some semblance of privacy. It was never to be. 

She dressed and checked herself in the mirror. The next dancer brushed by her, they exchanged a word or two. She was a new girl, nice body, but unsure yet of how to use it. She'll learn, Camille thought. 

She walked across the room to the juice bar and got a glass of water. She sipped it and swallowed. Passing the glass across her upper body, feeling the coolness against her. The stage was always so hot. 

And then she spied him. 

In the far corner. 

He saw her too. 

They acknowledged each other, and she made her way over to him. As she had danced for him before, they chatted for a moment while the music blared around them. It always seemed so very bizarre to her that patrons could discuss anything before and afterwards. But during it seemed to her, they became dumb, struck by the visual stimulus of her writhing body. 

The music stopped and she asked him if he wanted her to dance for him. 

"Yes, please."

" mmm... I wonder, might you be interested in a more, er, private setting?"

He was taken aback, " More private - how so?"

She smiled, a wicked, seductive smile, " We have a private room, that we can use for a more intimate setting, less noise... That sort of thing. Not for just any customer though..."

" I see... '

"interested?" 

"hmmm I don't know..."

Her hand caressed his thigh, her eyes never left his. 

"I would be completely undressed, the rules up here do not apply. Just you and me."

"wow... really.... sounds very tempting..."

She could feel his arousal swelling. She felt her own desire waxing.

"as much time as you'd like..."

"well... OK... what do I do?

"Between the men's and ladies room go through that door, downstairs and the last room on the left. I'll meet you there in 5 minutes."

"I see..."

She leaned in close, " Don't be obvious about it, just go to the men's room and be one door off."

She could smell his cologne, mixed with the smell of his arousal. She caressed his face with her hands. 

"see you soon...", and with that she backed away, turned and went to the dressing room.

-----

Rich sat there for a moment, somewhat stunned. This was a line he had not considered crossing. 

But there it was. 

Offered up to him. 

She was so different from his wife, whom he adored. Shellie was trim, fit and lean. Whip smart and he loved her for all these things and many more. But he was a man, and as such his eyes did wander. Camille was soft, round and voluptuous he thought, smiling. A truly sensual being. 

He watched her go, her soft backside swaying beneath her costume as she walked away. Finishing his drink he stood up and made for the men's room, and at the last moment he went through the door she had indicated. Closing the door behind him, a dimly lit stairway greeted him and he descended it to the basement. A short corridor was at the bottom and he followed it to the last door on the left. He saw that another stairway led up to what he assumed was the dancer's dressing room. He place his hand on the doorknob. 

Something occurred to him. 

A pang of guilt went through him. 

He paused and thought about what he was doing. 

He heard a door open down the hall, he was committed. 

He opened the door and stepped inside. The room was slightly more well lit than the main floor upstairs. The lighting was warm and cozy. The room had a couch, an overstuffed chair both of which had a pattern that could not stand the light of day. In the middle there was what looked like a massage table.

He sat down in the chair and tried to breathe. Regularly.

------------------------------------

Camille walked off the floor and into the dressing room, once inside she took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind for the task at hand. She was going to give herself to him. almost completely in the next hour. 

She would allow him to have her. 

Completely.

Without reservation.

And then after a fashion she would bend him to her will, in the end he would please Shelli, become the lover she wanted him to be. And yet Camille wondered if she would become a extra item. 

This thought gave her pause. Would Shelli still be her lover after it's all said and done. 

She pondered this as she changed into another costume, one more flowing yet more revealing than before. This was her late night costume, revealing yet concealing. Her breasts appeared through the sheer material as soft white globes, topped with dark circles they swayed gently within the fabric. If she did not shave her sex smooth, a dark patch of fuzz would have been apparent between her thighs. As it was the only contrast to her skin and the outfit was her long hair and her dark nipples. She put low sandals on her feet, not fuck-me shoes. 

Camille did not perform private shows often, as she did not trust the normal clients at the club. Most were too rude or abrasive for her tastes. While this did not affect her standing at the club, her employment was secure, it did make a divide between her and the rest of the dancers who did private shows. As so when the back stage group saw her apparently getting ready, there were whispers and sniggering in the dressing room.

She did her best to ignore them. 

Exiting out of the back of the dressing room, she closed the door and took the several steps to the stairway and descended to the lower level hallway beneath the club. She could hear the faint thump of the music from upstairs. Her hand touched the knob on the door to the room and turned it.

-------

Camille ventured in and saw he had found his way. She smiled and turned to close the door. 

"see? just you and me", she started, " a quiet room and some time."

"ok", he replied, " now what?"

"Welllll, you could start by getting comfortable, would you like to lay back or..."

She could see he was a bit nervous and unsure. She was too, to some extent, as she knew how far the club allowed the girls to go, officially, and also she how far she wanted go. 

She knelt down in front of him, making sure he could see her charms clearly, her hands ran up his inner thighs, until her left hand touched his member beneath his cargo shorts. It had swelled considerably, and with her touch twitched, involuntarily. 

Her eyes never left his. 

In her mind she knew she about 30 minutes before the floor patrol would get suspicious and come down her to see what she was up to. The management and the dancers had fought over the use of cameras in the club and in the private room. It was agreed that a camera would be in the room, and that it could be activated should a dancer get into a tight spot. But only then.

Camille shed the last of her garments as she slowly crawled into his lap. His hands traversing her soft skin. 

"may I", she whispered, tugging on his fly.

He lifted his arms to give her access and she unzipped him and slid her hand inside to touch him. 

"mmmm, warm in there".

His member responded by pulsing. 

She slid out of his lap and tugged on his shorts, pulling them to his ankles. His cock pointed straight out from his groin, hard and thick. The glans peeked out from within his foreskin and was engorged and purple. Camille resisted the urge to lick it.

His pubic hair was shaved. 

She danced a slow sensual strip tease for him until she was nude, and then knelt before him. Her eyes held his and never wavered.

She took his hands and placed them on her breasts. Granting him permission to touch her.

His touch was warm against her skin and her nipples responded to his touching and tweaking. His hands cupped her full breasts, as if weighing them.

Camille leaned in closer.

-------------

Shelli entered the club on time and yet missed Rich and Camille's departure downstairs. She took a spot on the floor and had the required soft drink. She scanned the room for a few minutes, unsure in the darkness if she was just missing them or not. 

Shelli realized that they must have already moved to the downstairs area. She cursed herself for not being early. 

" Would you like a dance?" 

Shelli started. A thin willowy girl stood beside her. 

"ah , no I'm waiting for someone else..."

"you sure?" A tender hand traced a line up her thigh and then across her cheek, " I'll treat you right..."

"No thank you , I think I'll wait..."

"ok but she's not here"

"who's not here", shelli replied

"Camille"

"what?"

"She left early today."

Shelli looked confused, she'd seen this girl before in the club when she first met Camille. And had seen her a couple of time since when she met Camille after work. 

"C'mon she's not here, play with me... " 

Shelli's mind spun rapidly. Why would Camille leave early, after all the effort to do this, she could not believe that Camille would back out. 




Camille & Shelli



Shelli was off balance, she stood up and backed away from the dancer and towards the men's room, trying to be nonchalant , and not being very successful. She made it to the door to the downstairs, opened it then quickly entered and closed it behind her. 

-----

Out on the floor Allison was amused in her ability to twist Camille's playmate around. Camille is such a self righteous bitch, she thought . Serves her right if this other one gets worked up. 

-----

Shelli took a deep breath, held it for a moment and exhaled...

Where did she go, Shelli thought. Her pulse was still racing from her ordeal on the main floor. 

Slowly her eyes became accustomed to the dimly lit corridor. And her ear adjusted to the reduced noise. 

She could hear something.

Rhythmic.

As if...

She hesitated not knowing who or what was making the sounds. But she was curious. And she did make her way slowly down the hallway, and as she did she began to hear moans. Moans of pleasure. Other more subtle sounds. 

The sound of a cock being sucked. Unmistakable sound that the act makes. A wet sort of slurping sound. A sound that all men love hear, and sound some will women refuse to make.

There was a doorway on the left, slightly ajar. The sounds to Shelli's ear seems to come from inside. 

She could see just inside a little ways. And what she saw at first startled her, then she remembered. 

And then she watched. 

She could see Camille on her knees in front of him. her head bobbing slowly. His head was slightly back. And his eyes were closed. His hands were on Camille's face, as if guiding her.

Camille was not completely naked, but her soft white skin was readily apparent. 

Shelli paused for a moment and looked around her. With no one in the hallway she undid her jeans and slid her hand inside, to touch herself. She felt very exposed doing this and only did it for a moment And then watched Camille again.

Oh this is so wrong, she thought, and yet, how else can she convince him, and still have Camille, and him. 

Would he understand she thought. Would he care? 

A pang of jealous anger coursed through her - Her eyes flashed - DAMMIT she thought, he's enjoying this too much. 

All of these emotions seemed to run through her in an instant, her senses seemed to awaken and her mind seemed to be bouncing off all of the possibilities.

Deep breath she finally thought, remember to breathe.

She smiled - and then she noticed - he was getting close. His neck was flushed and his body was beginning to tense up.

It was almost time.

-----

Camille slowed her sucking of his member, thinking " Where the fuck in she", when she spotted Shelli sliding in to the room out of the corner of her eye. Camille began making that sound again, this time in earnest as Shelli began to disrobe. 

Shelli did this in front of Camille, slowly and deliberately. When she was completely nude, she stretched like a cat. All the while Shelli's husband writhed close to the edge of the male twilight zone. 

Camille began to stroke his cock with her hands while sucking him. Cupping his balls and rubbing them, almost kneading them. Shelli moved in behind Camille just as they had planned. And replaced first one and then the other hand on his turgid member.

He was oblivious.

Camille backed away behind Shelli and began it indicate what Shelli should do next. 

Shelli smiled and licked her lips, and bent to her task. She had practiced with the large dildo, but this was different, firmer yet more pliant. And it pulsed in her hands. On her knees before her husband was not a place she'd been, but she fell a feeling of power, and control she never had before. 

Taking the glans in her mouth she sucked it gently, and responded to his thrust upwards. His cock touched the back of her throat and she did it, with out gagging, she was able to take him deep in her throat, she felt his pre cum dripping, and she pulled back to take it in her mouth.

In the mean time Camille had laid down beneath Shelli and was beginning to nibble her thighs working slowly up towards Shelli's dripping sex. 

All at once he groaned and shot his load into her mouth, on her face and across her breasts. It seemed as though he would not stop, Shelli even managed to get some on Camille, although to this day she does not know how. 

"What the fuck is going on here?!"

Shelli blushed down to her toes. "The Education of Rich" She replied.

"what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Rich looked around for Camille for a few seconds, then realized she was staring up at him from between his wife's legs.

Her hand waved at him.

" This is freaking me out Shelli!"

"I want you to calm down, Rich, then I want you to listen - Camy you stop that, for now, I need a clear head, no you giving me head."

Rich sat there dumbfounded. He'd never heard his wife talk like that before. She had always been so pure and sweet. 

He considered this. It made his head hurt.

"I'm listening..."

"OK - I've known for a long time that you go to these places. that you seem to get something here that you don't get from me.

"but"

"Don't deny it, Rich."

He shrugged his shoulders. Shelli smiled, point taken.

"About six months ago started I following you to see where you went. You came here, consistently, never anywhere else. I was horrified at first. And I was hurt, Rich - deeply hurt."

"Shelli -"

She cut him off. " I thought about it for a while and realized that you found me lacking in some way - Camy stop that"

Shelli paused for a moment and took a breath. The shear outrageousness of the whole scene was beginning to get to her. Her husband with his rapidly shrinking cock on a chair in front of her, her on her knees covered in his seed, and Camille beneath her staring at both f them.

" I need to finish this before some thing weird happens."

"As opposed to this?"

"yes, you dufus, now here the rest. I made myself up to look like a guy and watched. You seemed to be attracted to the girls that had what I did not - curves. Yet you always came home to me. After several botched efforts, I got a dance with Camille, she seemed to be you favorite"

"Well yes... she dances well and I like her style."

"She very quickly discovered my ruse, and to my surprise and unending joy, seduced me."

"While you were upstairs waiting for me " Camille chimed in.

"Hey now this is getting a bit fucked up."

Shelli was toweling herself off. "We decided that we would try to seduce you and..."

"And?"

Shelli looked at with desire, longing and some fear in her eyes. This was the final play.

"And try to get you to be... GOD DAMMIT this is hard to do..."

"Shelli loves you more than I can tell you about Rich, and it's like this. She wants you to have her, completely - but because of your rather large dick she can't have you take her any way you want."

"I'm not sure how to..."

She looked at her husband, " I want you, with all my being Rich. But I also want you to be satisfied. Body and soul"

Camille was getting dressed, "I'll be outside Shelli"

"No wait - I want you here Camy - I NEED YOU here... Please stay"

Camille sat down.

"Rich, I've found something with Camille that I didn't have before and she's found something with me, I don't know where it's going to go, or how it's going to end up, but I want you with me, us, every step of the way."

"So let me get this straight in my head - my wife follows me to a strip club, meets a dancer, is seduced, discovers she's bi and wants me to join them?"

" That's an over simplification, Rich."

"I need a drink"

"I think we all do", Camille responded

"Can we go somewhere and discuss this, somewhere beside the bottom of a strip club?"

"Yes!", They replied.

-----

A few drinks later and after much discussion, some yelling and quite a few apologies all around, The three of them found themselves watching some late night TV. Rich was dozing in his chair and Camille and Shelli were on the couch. 

"You still wet little girl?" 

Shelli giggled and lay back, tugging down her pajama bottoms.

"Shhhh, you'll wake him"

"Nahh he's gone"

Camille began touching Shelli softly, gently and as a woman knows how to touch another woman. The two of them became lost in the moment. and blind to everything around them. They had only eyes for each other. 

It was at this point that Camille felt something touch her sex. And then slowly begin to fill stretching her, pulsing with desire. Her eyes widened and then fell half closed, Savoring the moment...

End

Phoebus ©7/13/02



Camille and the Preacher Man



The moon, riding high in the sky that night, cast a silvery light over the small town. In a brick bungalow at the top of a hill, moonlight shone through the bedroom windows, revealing a man on his knees beside the bed. Resting his elbows on the bed, he clasped his hands tightly.

Reverend Paul Trent's light brown hair was wavy, long on top and trimmed close around the sides. His face, neither handsome nor homely, was that of an everyday man. Only in his eyes could one see the fire and spirit that burned within. He bowed his head.

"Lord," he prayed. "I guess You know what I'm asking again tonight. I'm praying for strength and willpower. I keep having impure thoughts about Camille. I can't help it. Since Susan passed away last year, I surely miss the pleasure a woman can give a man. But I'm so much older than Camille, and I'm her own pastor. I knew her as a child; watched her grow up. So I know it's wrong to want to hold her in my arms and take my pleasure with her."

He paused, then went on in a softer tone. "Yes, the skirts she wears are too short, Lord. She flaunts her long pretty legs, and wears those low cut blouses that show part of her bosom. She shouldn't dress like that, but she does."

"The way Camille sways her hips, and looks at a fellow a certain way, with that gleam in her eyes. We both know how that sets a man to thinking."

Now speaking in a more forceful manner, arguing his case in earnest, the reverend continued, "But Lord, she is still your child. So there has to be some goodness and decency in her. I want to find that. Instead of having sexual desires for Camille, I pray you'll show me the way to her heart."

"It's like this, Lord. I believe You and the devil are fighting for that sweet girl's soul. And I'm the one best able to fight for You. So I'm praying for the power to resist Camille's charms. To free myself of this fascination I have with her body, and to find the virtue within her."

"I'm asking a lot, Lord, I know that. My son and daughter are grown now and moved away. I've been so lonely this past year, and she's a beautiful young woman. And, she's a fallen angel. Men lust after her, and too often she satisfies their lust. Even Tom Bishop, married and with two kids, begged her to run away with him. Some folks said, well, who could blame the poor sap. But Camille didn't go off with him. So I believe she has a spark of goodness I can kindle. Show me the way to do that, Lord. Amen."

Reverend Trent rose and got into bed. But sleep did not come. The pale moonlight was beguiling. He began to imagine a young woman standing there in its glow, her smooth naked body his for the taking. The room was sultry, the air too heavy. The emptiness of the bed left him ill at ease. It needed a woman to satisfy a man's yearning in the way only she can. The reverend heaved many a sigh as the moon drifted slowly across the night sky.

*******

Several nights later a soaking rain peppered the window panes of Reverend Trent's house. The maples and oaks outside, their branches whipped about by the wind, seemed as much in distress as the man inside. Once again he was on his knees in earnest prayer.

"Lord, I beg forgiveness for what I did today. For taking that girl in my arms and kissing her. And wanting to do a lot more. You saw it all. I know You were there in the church library where it happened. But I'll feel better if I confess, and get it off my chest. You're the only one I can talk to about it."

"Some of the churchwomen, they wonder why a girl like Camille comes to church regular, when she acts the way she does the rest of the week. But I hope it does her some good, and when she volunteers to help out I always say yes. That's why I had her filing away the new books in our library, and dusting the old ones."

"She smiled so pretty when I came in and told her she'd done a good job and could leave. It didn't seem wrong when she came to where I was standing near the door and said, 'My pleasure, reverend.' Even when she put her hands on my shoulders and gave me a little peck on the cheek, I thought it was just the way of a woman."

"But she kissed me again, and then once more, and I didn't want her to stop. She smelled so good, as fresh as a morning breeze, and sweet the way women do. When she pressed her lips to mine, and I could feel her ... her bosom against me, it just took my breath away."

"There's nothing like the taste of a woman's kisses; it sends chills down a man's spine. I don't even remember taking her in my arms, but I did. I squeezed her and, yes, it felt good. There's something in a man, he needs that now and then."

"But she kinda pushed away, smiled at me, and said, 'You kiss really nice, reverend.' Then she gave me another peck on the cheek and was gone. I stood there tingling all over and feeling like a dern fool. I could still taste her lipstick, and smell that rich perfume Camille wears. I lusted after her, and I knew it was wrong. But like I said, Lord, a man sometimes needs the feel of a woman against him."

"The thing is, I know that's not the end of it. Once a woman has kissed a man, she may do it again, and he'll want that too. And it won't stop there. I don't know where this is going. Lord, I want to save that girl; to help You overcome the devil in her. I don't understand why I pray every night to You, and yet I cannot resist her. Do You not hear my prayers, Lord? Have I failed You in some way?"

"I'm asking for strength again tonight. Without You I'm just a man, with no hope. I have a feeling that the time will soon come when I need You more than ever to give me strength. To put words in my mouth that will keep me from breaking my vow to be your good and faithful servant. Amen."

Again the reverend rose and got into bed. Again he heaved a sigh, and spoke into the darkness, his voice a whisper. "Oh, Camille. Camille, Camille ..."

*******

The day of the church picnic was perfect, with gentle breezes wafting through the park that lay on the outskirts of town. Above was a deep blue sky, across which floated a few white clouds. There was horseshoes and baseball and hot dogs and hamburgers and people laughing and children playing. And Camille was there.

It is remarkable how a woman can be innocent and seductive at the same time. Camille played with the little children, chatted with boys and girls her age. But the older men, good Christians all, could not take their eyes off her; could not get her out of their thoughts. 

Her sleek tanned legs were bare below white linen shorts that the churchwomen thought too short. Her bra, and Reverend Trent was relieved to see she was wearing one, was faintly outlined under a pale yellow sleeveless blouse that buttoned up the front. The snug blouse left no doubt that here was a young woman with lovely firm breasts. 

She was sylph-like, her ebony black hair cut short in lengths, her lithe body moving in a way that caught a man's eye and held it. And when a man saw her deep green eyes, he could not help but imagine how those eyes would look at him in the moonlight or as she lay beneath him in the extremes of passion.

Many a pretty young woman goes through the day never realizing the effect of her beauty on the men around. But Camille knew. She knew well. Adding to her allure was her reputation. Camille was no chaste flower. She had tasted pleasures of the flesh and found them good. As much as her sexuality, it was her aura of being open to a man's suggestion that made her almost irresistible.

Members of the congregation would have been shocked to know that their own pastor, Reverend Trent, watched and desired Camille no less than the other men there. As the warm afternoon passed, he gave thanks that there were other people around. Thanks for any respite from the thoughts that came to mind when he glanced at Camille.

It would not be a picnic without some child getting lost. As the sun neared the western horizon, little Jeremy Atkins wandered away. A search was launched, led by Reverend Trent. Finding himself alone after walking for a few minutes, the man saw a small hay barn at the edge of the park. Just the sort of place a kid would like to explore, he thought. He entered and began to climb a ladder to the loft, calling Jeremy's name as he went.

He had reached the top when faraway voices called out, "We found him! He's safe, everyone!" But Reverend Trent scarcely noticed. He gazed spellbound at the vision before him. Camille was in the hayloft, sitting in the loose hay. She leaned back slightly, supported by her arms. Her bare legs, bent at the knees, were spread open and pointing toward him.

"Hello, reverend," she said in a low voice that was silky smooth and as sweet as honey.

He gazed in awe at the scene, which seemed the essence of every erotic daydream a man may have. Golden light shone through the cracks in the boards and the bay of the loft. Every sunbeam seemed to light up Camille's young body, as if she too were gold. She drew her tongue across full pink lips that waited to be kissed.

The heady aroma of fresh hay filled the man's nostrils. "They've found the little boy," he managed to say. "We'd better go."

"No," murmured Camille. "Soon everyone will leave. No one will miss us. We have this hayloft and each other, reverend. What more do we need?" As she spoke she unbuttoned the blouse and let it fall open. She then unsnapped her bra in the front. With one motion Camille drew both garments back and off her. Now she was nude from the waist up.

The man gave a faint moan at what he saw. Camille's breasts seemed too lovely to be real. Ripe and jutting straight out, the flesh at the apex was formed into a perfect cone of amaranth pink, with faint rosebud nipples at the tips.

"Come to me," said the girl in a throaty voice. "I want you now, reverend. Oh please hold me, love me, don't make me wait!"

There could be no disobeying her, Reverend Trent knew that. Any man would do the same. In two steps he went to her and knelt and took her warm naked body in his arms and kissed her passionately. He pressed his lips to hers, met her tongue eagerly; relished the feel of bare breasts nearly flat against his chest.

He drank deeply of the girl, slaking the thirst that had come to him during all those lonely nights. He then kissed her cheeks, her neck, but soon came back to her warm wet lips.

Camille moaned with pleasure when he moved down to kiss her chest, sighing, "Ah yes, you fought the good fight, reverend, but you're mine now. At last, you are truly mine." She pushed him further down to her waiting breasts.

And Reverend Trent surrendered completely, somehow relieved that he no longer had to worry and struggle and pray. Now he was free. Free to enjoy pleasures beyond imagining; pleasures that every man dreams of in the still of the night.

He buried himself in Camille's bosom, kissing and sucking her nipples, now rubbing his face over the exquisite softness of her breasts. He savored this woman, intoxicated by her sweet musky aroma and the taste of her supple flesh.

The last words she had spoken began to resonate in his mind. They did so, quietly at first, but then more insistently. Perhaps it was those words: At last you are truly mine. Perhaps it was the fragrance of her body that for some reason became a bit cloying, like the scent of an apple that is just slightly overripe.

The man drew back and looked at her. Their eyes met, and the reverend saw for the first time a malevolent force that lay deep within her eyes. A presence that was in no way human. In that single instant of understanding, he went from passionate to cold; as cold as stone; as cold as death. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest.

Camille gave him an alluring look as she unzipped the shorts and slipped them down her legs and off. She spread her legs to offer a hint of what was beneath her thin panties. "Oh, I want you inside me, reverend," she sighed, caressing her breasts. "I'm ready, take me now."

His mouth as dry as sand, he struggled to speak. "This was never just about Camille, was it? Wasn't it really about me as well?"

"Don't talk," Camille murmured. "Hold me, love me." Now the panties were off, and he saw the smooth pink paradise between her legs. It beckoned to some animal instinct in him. He felt the urge to fall upon her, to kiss and to worship that sweet secret part of a woman. But then he looked back into her eyes and trembled with fear.

"You came into Camille's heart," he said in slow measured tones. "But that was not enough. You wanted to come into my heart too. You were using her to get me."

"Please, don't talk nonsense!" the girl replied, her voice now deeper, with a hard edge to it. She spread her legs, saying, "Look, see the pleasure I can give you. Enjoy what every man in town dreams of having! Now it's yours!"

"Yes," said Reverend Trent, still trembling, as he looked again into her green eyes. Again he saw beneath those eyes to where that dark and sinister force lay. "Now you have a part of Camille. But you do not have all of her; you do not have the best part of this girl. And you don't even know it, do you?"

Camille spoke angrily. "What are you talking about, you damn fool! Shut the hell up and make love to me! You've imagined it a hundred times. Now do it! Take me!"

The reverend bent to the girl and dared place a hand on her arm. It felt ice cold and burning hot. "I'm a man, but I know a thing or two about women. And let me tell you what I know," he said, swallowing hard. "During the best times in a woman's life, you are not there. I've watched a woman hold her newborn baby in her arms, and look at it with so much love. You are not in her heart then. You never see that part of a woman's life at all."

Camille blinked in surprise as she looked at him. The luster in her eyes seemed to fade as he spoke again. "And let me tell you something else, about a special woman I knew. A woman whose husband was disheartened after he failed to get the first two pastorships he applied for. He thought himself a failure. But his wife sat down with him and said, 'I believe in you; together we will succeed.'" 

"He looked into her eyes and knew she loved him and would always support him. She gave him strength he never knew he had. You don't realize that's a part of being a woman too, do you?"

"Let me tell you about when a man gets up and makes a woman breakfast; coffee, eggs, the works. And brings it to her bed. It's her birthday and he always serves her breakfast in bed on her birthday because he loves her. It's his way of showing it. She wakes up and smiles and says, 'Aren't you sweet.' A man will always treasure that memory. But you are not there to see a smile like that on a woman's face."

"Let me tell you about cold winter nights when a man is lying in bed snuggled up to his sleeping wife and he feels her wide hips and her big soft butt against his body. Somehow that comforts him in a way that nothing else can. He feels her warmth and fragrance and all of a sudden he's just about overcome with love for this woman because she belongs to him and he belongs to her. And he knows she's the best part of his life."

Taking a deep breath, Reverend Trent spoke in a firm voice. "So you see, you really don't have Camille. You may use her body to try to seduce a man, to bring him to ruin. But she is like any other woman: there is a part of her, the truest and sweetest, that you can never have."

"I believe that if we show her love and respect, Camille will be the woman I've described. Yes, she will give some young man the pleasure of her body. But she will do much more. She will lift up his spirits with her words and her smile. She'll warm and comfort him, take care of him when he's sick. Stick by him no matter what. The man will love her for all that, and she'll love him in return. It's the part of our lives that goes beyond anything you will ever know." 

"So this time I'm afraid you've lost. You won't use Camille to gain me. And I'm pretty sure you won't have Camille."

The man and the young woman stared at each other in silence. A bitter smile began to spread across her lips. Now came a voice that was deeper than Camille's. "Sexy young girls, those are the easy ones. But ah, to snare a fine upstanding preacher man; a shepherd of his flock. Well, it was worth a try, wouldn't you say?" After a long pause the voice continued. "We shall meet again, reverend. Remember, I am never far away." 

His eyes unwavering, Reverend Trent gazed intently at Camille. After a moment her own eyes began to glaze over. She swayed back and forth, and collapsed unconscious onto the hay. He felt her pulse; then, placed her blouse and shorts over her nakedness. Still trembling and breathing hard, he descended the ladder, walked out of the barn, and rested on a nearby park bench.

The man sat there for a while listening to the evening birdsong and watching how the rays of the setting sun bathed the park. Soon he saw Camille emerge from the barn and walk toward him. She sat down beside him on the bench.

"What happened?" she asked, shaking her head. "I waited for you in the barn, and we ... well, we were kissing ..." The girl paused; for the first time ever, Reverend Trent saw a blush on her cheeks.

"And then I must have passed out or something. That was so weird." She eyed the man keenly. "When I woke up all my clothes were off. Did anything happen? I mean, ... you know?"

"No, Camille," he smiled. "Nothing at all happened."

"I guess not," she said wryly. "You're supposed to be a good man and all."

"I try to be." Reverend Trent laid his hand on hers. "But you, Camille; you are a good young woman."

"Me?" she laughed. "Most folks don't think so."

"I think so. I believe in you, Camille. I always will. I'll try to show it by telling everyone that Camille is a fine girl who deserves our friendship and our respect and our love."

She laughed slightly. "Love? Do you love me, Reverend Trent?"

"Yes, Camille, I love you very much."

The girl looked at him quietly for a moment; then, drew her hand back over her hair to smooth it. "Funny. I should be tired from the picnic, but I feel refreshed somehow. And different. Wonder why that is." She looked around, saying, "Looks like the fella I came with has left. Just as well. Could you give me a ride home, reverend?"

"Of course. I'd be honored."

The man and woman got up and began to walk. With a shy smile, Camille reached out her hand and when she did so, Reverend Trent took it. They walked hand in hand to the parking lot.



Camille



At about three AM two cops burst in the door. "What is going on here," one exclaimed.

"Just a little party," one of the men answered.

"The cop turned to one of the younger looking guys and asked," Got an ID?"

"They got some coke here," the second cop yelled.

"Well, looks like we have a real bust here, underage drinking, prostitution, and drugs. Looks like a lot of people are going to get thrown out of school," the first cop said.

"Look officer, we were just having a little fun here. She is not a prostitute, and no body's getting hurt. Can't we work something out?" a man asked.

"Are you suggesting a bribe?" the Cop asked. "No, I am just asking for a break," the man said. "Can we talk privately for a minute?" 

"Sure," the cop answered. They stepped outside for a few minutes then the cop returned. "Jimmy, let's search the bedroom for more drugs."

Both cops left the room, so of course all of the men ran. When the cops returned Camille was still lying on the mattress. "Oh my, they all ran away," the Cop said feigning surprise. Say lady, if you aren't a prostitute, you won't mind taking care of a couple of hungry officers would you."

"Of course not," Camille answered. He moved close to her and she sat up and unzipped one guys fly. His cock flopped out and Camille started to relieve his ache.

"Give me some room, the other guy demanded, "I want some of this cunt." Camille rolled over and offered her pussy while still sucking the other cock. The second guy pulled out a huge cock and rammed it into her with all of his force. Camille was in heaven, moaning and crying in ecstasy. Both guys filled their respective holes and then switched to do her again. Finally they did something that I could not imagine. One cop got underneath and slid his cock into her pussy. Then the other cop got on top and forced his rod in too. Camille screamed in pain at first, but she soon adjusted and fucked them both until they shot into her stretched hole again. As they readied to leave the first cop turned to Camille and said," Hey babe, this is an installment thing. We get it when we want it, and no one bothers you during your parties. Ok?"

"Oh, you guys were so good, how could a girl refuse an offer like that?" Camille stated. With that the two guys left and Camille reclined on the mattress and started rubbing her sloppy pussy. Her vaginal opening must have been over and inch across."

Chapter 5

When we got to her apartment Betty ushered me inside. "Let me have your coat, Bill," she said with a smile.

"Let me just hold it. I have to be going soon anyway," I answered.

"Want some coffee?" she asked almost disregarding my answer.

"I think I have had enough," I answered.

"It will be ready in a minute," she said reentering the room while still ignoring my answers. "Look Bill, let me have the coat. I know what is in the pocket, and I have a deal for you. Give me the coat and finish your story, and if you still want to go out by yourself after you finish I will say nothing."

"Ok, I will have that coffee then," I said.

"Good," she answered. "You are confused about how you felt, aren't you? You know a lot of guys get hot watching their wives getting fucked. You are only human, right?"

"But husbands are supposed to get angry and throw their unfaithful wives out!" I exclaimed.

"Who says," she answered. "Evidently you really loved this woman and you expected her infidelity to end when her education ended. Then everything could return to normal, right?"

"Yes," I answered, "but it didn't work out that way."

"Stop beating yourself up for being an understanding guy. There is not enough forgiveness in the world as it is. I think that deep down, you thought this was something that she needed, and you were unselfish enough to let her have her fling. You had no idea what the outcome would be. There is nothing wrong with being compassionate and forgiving. Remember that. I think the coffee is ready," she advised.

"There was one other strange encounter I should talk about. One evening a woman appeared at the door, and pushed her way in as if she owned the place.

"Hi, Rebecca," Camille said.

"What did you say you bitch, "She replied. "How did I tell you to address me?"

"I'm sorry, Mistress, but I thought that was only for one time," Camille answered.

"You will be my slave when ever I want for the entire semester if you want that A," she replied. "Now get my things so we can get on with this." 

Camille exited the room and returned with a black satchel. "Undress, Camille!" the Dom demanded. The command was followed without comment. The woman attached some equipment to a previously installed hook in the ceiling, and proceeded to hang Camille from a rope and pulley. She put a pair on handcuffs on her, and she put a bar between Camille's legs and secured it to her ankles with cuffs on the ends. Then she spread her open so she could not move with her feet barely touching the floor. "You are not to cum Camille, do you understand?" she advised. "If you do I will leave you secured as you are, and phone someone to come get you. You will be punished for every wrong deed too. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Camille answered.

The woman reached into the bag and took out a cat of nine tales and abruptly struck Camille across each breast creating red whelps. "Yes what, slave?" Before she could answer she hit her again.

"Yes Mistress," Camille said with tears in her eyes.

"Good," the Mistress said. Now let's get on with it. She started kissing Camille and Camille reciprocated as best she could in her immobilized state. Her mistress kissed up and down her body and licked her breasts. She pulled and sucked her nipples until they were long and hard, and then she reached in to the bag and retrieved some nipple clamps with a gold chain. She attached the clamps, took a small bag out of the case, and attached it to the chain. It must have weighed a good bit because Camille's nipples stretched and pulled almost an inch.

She really got rough after that. She lowered Camille so she could bend at the waist and whipped her ass with the cat-o-nine tails. Camille was crying loudly now, but the mistress showed no mercy. She lubed her rear door and plunged a huge dildo from the bag into her. Camille let out a scream because the black plastic cock was very large. She pumped the tool into Camille's ass and caressed her pussy until the cries turned into moans of pleasure. Camille started to fuck back on the dildo and scream, but the mistress stopped and lashed her cunt with the whip. "Don't you dare cum without permission, bitch!" the Mistress commanded.

"Yes Mistress," Camille answered, "but please don't hit me there again. It really hurts." With that the mistress lashed Camille's slit again and laughed. Camille screamed in pain. 

The Mistress then straightened her up and gently rubbed her pussy. Camille was so hot that her juice was running down her thighs. The strange woman then took more clamps out of the bag and attached them to Camille's inner lips, and then she attached another weight to them that pulled her lips to an unbelievable length. I never thought they could have stretched that much. She then pulled the rope again to pull Camille toward the ceiling. With a gentleness I didn't think she had the mistress then began to lick the hard love bud until Camille was about to cum again. She would alternately bring her to the edge and then lash her clit again. Camille stopped crying and started begging, "Oh please let me cum mistress. I need it so badly. Please, please." She received no reward though as the mistress kept torturing her for over an hour. The weights on her nipples had extended them to over an inch now, and her pussy lips hung between her legs.

The Mistress then loosened the rope that was holding Camille, and lay on the floor with her legs spread. No command was required as Camille dropped to her knees and started licking her juicy love box. I knew the mistress was very hot because her thick black fir was matted from her juice. She writhed under Camille's ministrations. Her hips were rising off of the floor and she moaned and squealed with pleasure. Finally she exploded into Camille's face, and I could see her juice actually squirt all over Camille. "Cum slave!" she commanded, and strangely enough Camille climaxed without stimulation. I could hear her guttural groan and watch her thighs contract as her juice began running down her legs like a river.

Camille was no stranger to this routine. After she stopped licking the woman she picked up the strap-on in her mouth and presented it to her Mistress. It was fastened to Camille and the woman got on her knees. Camille fucked her pussy for what seemed like hours while the woman had explosive orgasm after explosive orgasm. A huge wet spot was evident on Camille's rug under her. Camille had several climaxes too while she played her male roll.

Eventually they both collapsed on the floor. Camille was released from her bonds and they cuddled together until they fell asleep. Sometime during the night the Mistress left without waking Camille after giving her a kiss on her forehead.

During the rest of that semester things continued as they started. It was like watching a porn movie studio with one actress and many studs. Every night after getting the kids to bed I would go down to watch, and each night I would get so hard that I had to relieve myself. My little computer room started to smell like a whorehouse. Betty, I was so ashamed," I said.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of Bill," Betty advised." I understand that you didn't want to lose your kids, and if she got them, what kind of life would they have had with a mother like that? Of course you did have the ammunition to get the kids by this time."

I know I did Betty, but if I used those tapes I would destroy her image in her kid's minds. They would think less of themselves, and I couldn't have that now could I?" I pleaded.

Bill, you are just too caring. I understand what that knowledge would do to your kids, and I admire you for thinking of them first," she answered. "What happened next?"

"It stayed the same for the rest of the semester. She must have fucked a hundred guys during that time and her mistress paid a weekly visit too. I saw her take it is all three holes and I watched a bunch of guys form a circle around her and jerk off. They covered her with cum from head to foot.

She stayed in her apartment during the summer too that year with the same consequences. She never used a condom, and I really feared catching something from her, but I guess I was lucky. She came home more often during that summer, and she was a great wife while she was there. She still didn't take up much time with the kids, but at least she gave me the attention a husband expects. Believe it or not I was still getting more sex from her then before she started school.

Her final two semesters were a re-run of the previous ones. She still had her mistress, but in addition she had several other women. She had four gangbangs each semester as if they were scheduled. In addition Ed told me that he had made several tapes of her fucking her professors. It seemed as though on some days she fucked from early morning until she passed out at night. Finally graduation day came and I thought the ordeal was over.

Chapter 6

"Let me guess," Betty asked. "She picked up where she left off when she went to work, right?"

"I didn't know anything for a while, but she started working a lot of overtime. Most of the time, she went to work at eight AM and came home around ten PM. She must have started cleaning up after her sessions because when she came in she was properly dressed and had no sexual odor. I even checked the laundry. I found no soiled panties, so there was no evidence there. I believed that she was actually working.

One day in September I took her car to work so I could get some work done on it. I accidentally dropped my keys, and when I reached to retrieve I found four pair of panties that were stuffed under the driver's seat and were crusted with cum. I looked at the back seat and found numerous stains, apparently the result of a lot of sexual activity.

Betty that was all I could take. That night when I got home I finally told her I wanted a divorce. She almost ignored me. "Let's talk about it tomorrow night," she said. I couldn't believe what I saw the next day when I got home. All of Camille's things as well as the kid's belongings were gone. I searched everywhere, but I found not a trace of her or the children. I was outraged, but defeated at the same time. The next morning I went to her office in Towson to see her. Her boss intercepted me and invited me into his office. I told him I wanted to see Camille.

"She transferred to San Francisco and left yesterday. You mean that you didn't know?"

"No, I got home last night and she was gone, no note, nothing. Can I have her address there? Why was she transferred?" I asked.

We don't have an address yet, but she was transferred because of her conduct here. She was a good worker with good ideas and a sound approach to research, but she was fucking everyone in the office to get ahead, and that caused too many problems. We told her that this was her last chance. I hope she can learn to control herself."

A week later I found her address and flew to San Francisco to see her. There was a guy in the living room when I entered, and she asked me to leave.

"I want to see my kids," I said.

"Fine, I need a baby sitter anyway," she answered tersely.

She rounded the kids up and I took them out to Mac Donald's. We talked and cried a lot, but I had to take them back home. I returned the next day to see them again, but she said they were out. I actually begged her for mercy, and she laughed at me. As I was leaving Gina, my eldest came racing down the stairs, bag in hand. "I am going with you daddy!" she exclaimed. She and Camille had some heated words, but I left with Gina and flew home. "Today little Bill called me secretly and told me that his mother said that she was filing for divorce and that she would get Gina back. She told them some awful things about me, Betty."

I burst into tears. Betty put her arms around me and hugged me. "Go on and let it out, Bill. I can't believe the gall of that bitch. She almost sounds like a sociopath with no conscience," Betty observed.

"Oh, Betty what am I to do. I can't go on like this," I said.

"Where is Gina now?" she asked.

"She is at her girlfriends for the night," I answered.

"Great, so you are going to let her come home in the morning to find a police officer waiting to tell her that her father blew his brains out. Do I have that right?" she said in demeaning tone.

"What can I do?" I asked.

"How about fighting back," Betty wisely offered.

Betty wrapped her arms around me, and I felt a real comfort that I had not felt in a long time. "Let Betty take care of you tonight," she offered. "I am an expert at making men feel better."

"Betty, I," I started.

"Shhh," she answered. Betty undid my collar and tie and then unbuttoned my shirt. I didn't think that sex was what I wanted, but her warmth and tenderness was. Slowly she removed my shirt and she kissed my nipples. Gently she licked my chest and neck and started my arousal.

"Oh, Betty. That feels so good. Oh, you know just what to do," I purred. She licked down my body until she came to my navel. She undid and removed my pants and shorts and softly licked my hard dripping cock. She took it in the mouth while cupping my balls and worshipped it as if it were the only one in the world. She licked my cock up and down its length and swirled her tongue around the ridge. She took my balls ever so gently into her mouth and sucked them, driving me crazy with passion. She returned to my shaft and sucked hard as I began fucking her mouth, She was so tender and gentle, I could hardly believe it. She must have felt my orgasm approaching because she stopped just as I was about to unload into her mouth.

"Oh, Betty, don't stop!" I cried. She said nothing, but she smiled, stepped back, unzipped her dress and let it puddle on the floor. She stood there smiling in her pretty lace bra and matching mauve bikini panties.

She then leaned forward and pressed her mouth to mine. Our tongues played together as I undid her bra and let it fall. Her breasts were not large and sagged slightly on her chest. Her nipples were large and dark compared to the rest of her skin, but at this moment they were beautiful to me. I took one in my mouth, but I didn't mall it as I usually do. It was comforting to me to hold her close and nurse on her like a baby. I realized that I was showing my neediness, but comfort was what I needed at the moment. As I sucked my hand ranged to her thigh and then her panty covered pussy. I had never been with a whore before this, so I didn't know what I expected to find, but what I felt was a warm sopping home for my now raging cock.

I started kissing her down her stomach, but she stopped me. "This is just for you Bill. Don't worry about me, just take me and make real love to me," she said in a soft knowing tone. I slid off her panties and gently started pushing into her wonderful soft nest.

"I need a condom," I said with a start.

"Shhh," she answered in a soft tone. "Let me feel you and you feel me. Let's just be lovers without that. I want to feel your sperm in my pussy." I hesitated no more and pushed onto her until my pubic hair meshed with hers. Without losing contact she rolled me over so she was on top and started fucking me so slowly. I know she was just a whore, but for the first time in years, I felt as if I was receiving a real woman's love. Ever so slowly she picked up the pace until driven by urgency she was pounding me with all of her weight. It felt so good. I wanted to hold off, but I just couldn't. I started bucking under her, pushing into her luscious body until my throbbing dick exploded into her. At the same time she started shaking and moaning. I could see ecstasy in her face, and she trembled and squeezed my cock with her vagina.

We laid together for a long time as I softened in her. She held me closely and caressed my face with her smooth gentle fingers. "That was not what I expected," I confessed.

"Oh, what did you expect,' she asked with a puzzled look.

"I'm not sure," I answered. "But I didn't expect that kind of tenderness. Your customers must really love you."

"My customers, as you say, never get the part of me that I just gave to you," she said. "You weren't my job, tonight you were my lover. Just for tonight, please let me believe that."

"Betty, I" I started.

"Shhh, you need to say nothing. Let's just hold each other for a while. I have never met a man quite like you before now, and I wish things were different," she murmured.

"Betty, I haven't felt like this about a woman in a long time. You have made me realize that what I felt for Camille was not love, but acceptance," I offered.

"I feel the same way about you Bill, but let's go slowly and give things a chance to fall into place, Ok?" she said.

With that we fell asleep in each other's arms. I felt genuine warmth that I had missed for a long time, and deep inside I hoped that this would not have to end. She might be a whore, but she was the kindest, gentlest, and most caring woman I had ever met. Perhaps I needed a new direction, and my steel companion was not the answer. In some way she had aroused hope in me. I didn't know how things would turn out in the end, but I believed that I could face anything with her beside me.

Chapter 7

The bright golden sun blazed through the window of the dank little apartment. I could smell bacon and coffee as I arose, so I edged toward the kitchen. "Use your cell phone to call Gina and let her know you are alright," Betty demanded.




Camille



"Hi Gina," I said after hearing her hello. "Gina, I got sort of messed up last night, but everything is ok now. I will be home in a bit."

"Oh Daddy, I was worried," Gina retorted. Little Billy called a short time ago and said that Mom had gone off with some guy and the kids were alone. Daddy, he said that she said that she was filing for divorce in California, but then she went off with that guy."

"Ok Gina," I answered. "I will be home later, and we will deal with it then." I hung up and turned to Betty and told her the contents of my conversation.

"Bill, she deserted you. If you strike first you can get the hearing done here instead of in California. Call your attorney right now and get the ball rolling," she advised.

"I will have to change and go later," I said almost apologetically.

"Look, I know an attorney who owes me. Let me call him and he can file the case, then you can change attorneys if you wish. You must file here before she does it in California," Betty said in an authorative tone. I had no chance to answer before she dialed the phone. I wondered what kind of a lawyer a woman of the streets could know.

"Hi, this is Betty let me talk to Quincy," Betty said.

"Quincy who?" I asked. 

"Latner," she answered. I was now very embarrasses by my last thought. Quincy Latner was one of those prominent attorneys with offices on St. Paul Street. I might not even be able to afford him.

"Quincy, I need a favor, Betty said. "I have a friend here whose wife if going to file for divorce in California. She deserted him so filing here should be easy, but I think you have to beat them to it.-------------Yes Quincy, I will put him on." I was in awe at the presence and command that Betty was demonstrating as she pushed the phone toward me. I took the phone and started providing information to a stranger; information which was so hurtful. He said he would draw up the papers and send someone to Betty's apartment for my signature if I could wait. He would use desertion as his cause of action and have her served that day.

I hung up the phone and looked at Betty as she took up the eggs. She wasn't the same woman he had seen the night before. She wore a robe of light blue silk which draped over her breast and cascaded to the floor. Her movements were fluid as if she had been trained in the finest finishing school. How could this woman be a whore? There was more to her than met the eye.

"Eat something," she said smiling as she put a plate before me.

"Betty I __ I  need to ask you something," I said

"I know what you want to know, and we can talk, but first let's eat and enjoy the moment. You are going to win this one you know!" As we ate I looked into her eyes and saw a glow that was missing the night before; truly everything was different now. This was no whore; she was an educated lady with a heart of gold. Maybe she just needs someone to take care of, and I was the neediest one around. Anyway, I could enjoy this momentary oasis in the middle of turmoil.

"I sure did enjoy last night," Betty said tentatively. I don't have romantic interludes anymore. She moved closer and put her hand on my arm, and I felt something that had escaped me for a long time too. I peered into the eyes which attracted me the night before and saw the same soft windows that lead to her soul. Perhaps I didn't need to know any more than I did right now.

She leaned over and kissed me softly, and then took my hand and led me to the bed. I slid my hand under her robe and touched the soft, wet and warm love nest that I had so enjoyed last night. "We have time before the currier gets here," she suggested.

This time I kissed my way down her stomach delaying for just a minute at her naval. Her pussy was smooth and smelled wonderful. She must have taken care of it while I slept because there was no trace of cum. I traced up and down her slit pausing briefly to dip my tongue into her vagina. When I brushed her clit she jumped, and I became overcome with desire. I held the top of her slit open to expose her clit and worked it until she started writhing with delight. I felt a gush of warm juice on my face as she gyrated her hips. Her legs stiffened and then the relaxed. I moved to her face and kissed her passionately. She pulled me close and rolled over taking my cock into her nest in one fluid motion.

I could feel her muscles working my tool. There wasn't much motion between us but the soft massage she gave me was bringing me to climax in a hurry. She started circling with her pussy as she massaged, and I could feel the cum boiling in my balls. I was past the point of no return, and my cum started shooting into her, and she exploded with me. For a moment our souls joined in ecstasy.

As we lay together, safe in each others warmth my curiosity overwhelmed me. This was such a warm loving woman with a deep understanding of the human condition. How could she have become a whore, a "B" girl, and a nude dancer? When I first met her she was a little hard and sounded like a street person, but now she conversed like an educated person with great feeling for others. After what seemed like hours I summoned up the courage to ask, "Betty, how did you get to what you are now. Since last night you have not seemed like a whore, you have seemed like an educated empathetic woman. What happened to you?"

"My story is not as complicated as yours is," she answered. "I married the wrong guy. He spent years humiliating me and destroying my self confidence. He would even correct my English at parties in front of other people. I know it should have been bye-bye right there, but I didn't have the courage to fight."

"I chose the bottle and, later, drugs instead of standing up for myself. Of course when he was done with me, and had little trouble leaving me with nothing while gaining custody or our kids. He moved right away to accept a teaching job in Massachusetts, and I have not seen or heard form any of them since the divorce day. He had brain washed the kids, so they didn't even show emotion during our last good bye."

"Well, I had no money and I needed drugs, so I started selling myself. To make a long story short Sammy, the owner of the bar where I work, found me literally passed out, half clothed in the gutter behind his business. I guess they had fucked me until I could fuck no more and took every cent that I had."

"You know, Sammy is no saint, but he found compassion for me. He dried me out gave me a bed and let me recover while asking for nothing in return. When I was on my feet he offered me a job dancing; hooking was optional. I guess that is it in a nutshell. I have been working for him for five years, and while I am ashamed of what I do for a living, I still feel better about myself than I did while I was married. Oh, I guess I can sound educated. I graduated from Vassar; a lot of good it did me."

"How do you know Quincy Lattner?" I asked.

"Whenever he needs comfort I take care of him. You know, just part of the job. A call girl with my qualifications gets $1000 and hour, and I fuck him for a hundred and often for free. He says I am better than the others. But Bill, you have gotten a part of me that no one has had since my wedding day. I want you to know that. To me you were no "John"," Betty offered.

I wanted to hug and hold her, but I said nothing. Words just would not form for me at the time. I got up to get dressed and said nothing, but my heart was bursting for her. In my eyes she was not a whore, slut or whatever labels people put on her. She was a warm caring person who had done more for me in the last twelve hours than anyone else had in the last five years.

As I walked into the front room there was a knock at the door. Betty peeped through the peep hole and then opened the door. I couldn't believe it. The currier was there with documents for a divorce. I signed on the dotted line and received an appointment card to see Mr. Lattner the following day.

As the courier left I turned to Betty and said, '' I guess I had better be getting home."

"I hope everything comes out ok for you Bill," she said with a depressed look on her face.

"Betty, I....I.... oh damned it, this can't end here. I want to see you again," I said.

"I want that too Bill, but not at work. Here is my number; please call," she implored. We embraced and kissed. Before I turned to leave, I reached into my pocket, but it was gone. I said nothing; I didn't need it anymore.

Chapter 8

I talked to Betty on the phone several times the next day, and on Wednesday I asked her to come to the office to have lunch. In the light of day she looked radiant to me even though clothing was of the discount store variety, and she wore no make up. I guess beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

"Hi Bill," she said as she entered my office. "Some digs, huh."

"I didn't invite you here to make you feel badly," I stated. "Maybe we should have met somewhere."

"Don't be silly," she answered. "I was just putting you on. I know anyone who drives a Beemer must have a nice office, and home for that matter. Have you heard anything from California yet?"

"Not yet," I answered. "Quincy said that the process server has been unable to serve her. The kids are at home, but Camille hasn't been seen in days. She must be out on one of the sex sprees."

The chit chat continued during lunch and finally I got up enough nerve to ask," When can I see you for a real date Hon."

"I can take off tomorrow night if you want," she answered. Could I come to your house, not for the night mind you; for a few minutes. I would like to see you away from my dungeon, and I would like to meet Gina if you don't mind."

"I'll tell you what. I will make dinner for the three of us. I told Gina about you and she would like to meet you too," I said.

"How much did you tell her?" she questioned.

"Not a lot, just that I had met a woman that I liked very much," I answered.

"Sounds great," Betty said. "I still know how to act like a lady when required."____Her smile after that statement just melted me. I knew that I had found a treasure.

***

The phone was ringing as I entered the door that afternoon. My heart was light and although I knew I was in the eye of the storm, I knew that things would be better. Gina picked up the phone and said, 'Hi. What? I don't have a son of a bitch father; damned you!" She slammed the phone into its cradle.

Tears welled up in Gina's eyes as she saw me. "I suppose she got the divorce papers," I said as I wrapped my arms around her.

"I didn't know your had filed," Gina stated.

"The lawyer said that it would be better to fight here instead of there," I replied.

"Now I know why she sounded so angry. She is not used to you standing up to her," Gina stated. "I am sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out that way Daddy."

"I guess you think I'm quite a wimp," I said

"Daddy, you are the most kind and understanding man in the world. I know Mom is a slut. I know all about her, but I don't blame you for putting up with it. I know you did it for us kids," she answered in a quivering voice with tears now streaming down her face.

"Don't say that about your Mom Gina," I counseled.

"Daddy," she began. "I was invited out by Bob to a party at state last week. You remember? Well when I got there I was passed from guy to guy while dancing and it soon became apparent that I was going to be the entertainment for the evening. When I asked where all of the other girls were Bob told me that the guys thought I would be just like my Mom and take on all of them.

Daddy, I was mortified. I wanted to die right there. I knew that Mom slept around, but not like that. I ran, found a campus cop and reported an attempted gang rape. When he heard my last name and realized who I was they weren't interested in doing anything about an attempted gang rape, but they did get me home."

I held her tightly until the phone rang again. This time I answered. I didn't let her start I just demanded that she leave the kids out of it, and we could settle in court. She got abusive, and I hung up. I grabbed Gina by the arm and started out the door to get some dinner. The storm was here.

Chapter 9

The house smelled wonderful and my herb roasted chicken baked in the oven. Betty was a bit surprised that I was a good cook, but after so many years of taking care of the kids I just got the knack. I never was one to do thing half way. As I finished in the kitchen Betty and Gina engaged in girl talk. By the time we got to the table to eat the two of them were like old friends and got along wonderfully. I guess they had one common interest; me. I was somewhat afraid that Gina would resent a new woman in my life, but she showed a great deal of maturity and understanding for my needs as a man.

"So Daddy, what terms are you trying to get in the divorce," Gina quizzed. "I know with my testimony you won't have to give her anything. I know that Little Billy and Marsha will want to come live with us again."

"I am not asking for custody of Billy or Marsha. I have offered generous child support and half of our investments as long as she will let me keep the house. Of course you can choose where you want to live Gina, you are sixteen," I told them.

There was dead silence around the table. We finished dinner, but no one ate very much. As I got ready to usher Betty out for our evening in a motel she pulled away. "Gina, how about going out for some coffee with me so that we can talk?" Betty asked.

"I have coffee," I stated. But I might as well have said nothing. Gina and Betty grabbed their coats and took off without a word between them. Now they really think I am a wimp, I thought.

When they came back it seemed as if they had a meeting of the minds, but I was not included. Gina made herself scarce and Betty held me like a momma holding a baby. "Bill, you are a man. I know that and so does Gina. We both understand why you are reacting to this as you are, and it is ok." She started kissing me and suddenly I felt safe and assured again.

We eventually made our way to the bedroom. I guess Gina was more mature than I thought as she just stayed in her room. Betty slowly undressed me, and I her as we fell into each others souls. This was not a fuck, it was real love. We brought each other to the crest of desire before I slid into her depths and we gently moved together. There was no urgency and we wallowed in each others passion. Finally I could stand no more and began pumping as if I had not had sex before in my life. Betty responded and we exploded simultaneously as our beings blended into one.

During the ensuing month Quincy implored me to use what I had to fight. I had never told him about the tapes, but he knew I wasn't telling him everything. On the other hand, Gina and Betty said nothing. I supposed that they had reconciled themselves to my position, but I should have known better. Both of them are fighters. Of course Camille countered that we sell the house and split the proceeds and even asked for custody of Gina, but Quincy said that she would not get that above the girl's wishes.

Betty and I dated as often as possible, but she kept her job. I was not allowed at the club, but that was ok, I had spent so much time watching my woman getting fucked that I didn't need anymore. At least she didn't try to degrade me with a cunt full of cum when I picked her up after work. She never spent the night at the house however. She said that she didn't want our relationship to become public knowledge.

Chapter 10

Negotiations didn't go very well in the meeting the day before the hearing. Quincy seemed determined to shake my unwavering bent to protect Camille's name with the children. I had never told him about the adultery and humiliation, so it seemed as if he had little to work with other than abandonment, but I knew nothing of what was planned with Gina and Betty. Of course Camille's lawyer said that no one was abandoned since she took the kids with her. The fact that I had made only one trip to California to see them didn't help either. Even Quincy didn't seem to understand that.

Still there was an air of confidence around Quincy; something that I just could not put my finger on. It was as if he was going to lose, but the cavalry was lurking in the wings.

While we were discussing the terms, Gina took Billy and Marsha out for the afternoon. Camille said that she wanted them to become acquainted again anyway since they would all be back in California together. When they left Billy and Marsha seemed have tears in their eyes. I tried to tell them that I loved them, but they wouldn't believe that. When they returned both Billy and Marsha were laughing and gave me big hugs. Gina was so good with them.

The next day was to be the day of reckoning, and it certainly would be. Before the hearing Quincy took me aside and told me that things were not going to go as I was expecting. He pushed a second divorce agreement in front of me; one which gave all of the family assets, custody of the children and child support to me.

"What is this Quincy? I told you that I would not destroy her if front of the kids," I said.

"I don't know if you deserve a reward for loving your children so much or a punishment for stupidity, but the kids already know. Don't you think that Billy can see when strange guys spend the night at this house. Gina has guys that think she is loose, because her mother is such a slut. Well, buddy the kids have an attorney of their own who will introduce evidence in court. Don't you understand that the worst thing that could happen to them would be to go with her? Now sign this! You are not going to demean the mother, the kids are. They have the tapes, witnesses, and human services on their side, and Camille is going to get her just deserts. 

And by the way; don't blame Betty, she is right and you are wrong. She is some woman. It is a shame that things got out of hand for her as they did, but she is on the right track now if you will stick with her."

As we walked into the courtroom Camille was alone at her table. All three kids were with a man that was unknown to me, and Camille's attorney we talking to him.

"That is Henry Jackson," Quincy said. He is representing the kids and he is discussing their case.

"Henry Jackson is another big name attorney," I said. "Who is paying him?"

"Betty of course," Quincy answered. "It has been done this way because you tied my hands. Are you going to marry her after this?'

"She wouldn't have a wimp like me! " I responded.

"You are such a fool Bill!" Quincy said and he turned away.

He was right. Fool was the name for me. Maybe I was just afraid of Camille or something. I did want the kids, but I was afraid to fight. I thanked God for Betty. I wished that she would have me.

Chapter 11

The Judges chambers were large and richly appointed. Most of the furniture was antique. Judge Hamner was about sixty with gray hair, but he had a large frame and seemed to be very well preserved. It was only then that I was introduced to Jacob Winstock, Camille's attorney for the first time, even though we had occupied the same room the day before in the negotiations.

"I thought this had been settled," Judge Hamner stated. "I didn't expect a full trial at this stage."

"Your Honor, the children object to the possibility that their mother might gain custody, and they have more than adequate proof that she is unfit," Jackson answered.

"I object your Honor," Winstock said. "Divorces are between adults."

Quincy interrupted, "Your Honor. My client knew of all of this evidence, but refused to use it because it would degrade the mother in the eyes of the children. It is damning material, but he, with his "head in the sand' way, thought that the children would not know about her conduct. Because of her behavior Gina the oldest girl has been humiliated publicly and the younger boy and girl have been neglected. My client didn't know about the neglect; in fact no one did until the kids talked to Henry yesterday."




Camille



"And who are you," the Judge asked a strange woman standing behind the attorneys.

"I am Greta Henderson from human services," she answered. I have seen as much of these tapes as I could stand your Honor, and there is no way a slut like this should get those children."

Camille went ballistic upon hearing that comment. "What evidence. I have done nothing but work hard to better myself."

Quincy said, "Ms Mc Kee, there are tapes made by a third party showing sexual activity and negotiations between you and your professors to improve your grades. Your apartment at State was under surveillance for several years and there are tapes depicting your involvement in one perverse sexual activity after another including bondage, gang bangs, and the bribery of police officers. In addition we can prove both cocaine and marijuana usage with these same tapes.

The manager from your local office is ready to testify that you were transferred because of outlandish sexual activities at work. Your own children have seen the men come and go in San Francisco, and spend the night in your bed. Last but certainly not least, a frat at state tried to gang bang Gina because they assumed that she was like her mother. 

This is the new decree Ms. McKee. It gives your husband everything including custody of all three children, and visitation will be at his pleasure. I believe that Mr. Winstock will advise that you agree in order to prevent your absolute public humiliation in open court."

Camille was in a state of shock for a few minutes and then walked to the table and signed. She knew what we had and there was little sense in continuing the proceedings.

"Will you ship the kid's things back, Camille," I asked.

She looked at me and sneered, "Fuck you. Come get them yourself."

"There is the matter of $1000 a month in child support," Quincy said.

"Ok, I will send the things this week, but you know what you can do with your child support!" Camille snarled. She shot us all the bird as she left.

"I almost made a big mistake," the judge said. "Take good care of those children. That is if this is ok with Ms. Henderson.

"This is fine with human services," she answered.

***

When I re-entered the court room the kids ran to me and gave me hugs that I will never forget. "Let's go home kids," I said. I guess we should do some shopping along the way"

I looked up and saw Betty standing off to the side. I walked to her and offered, "I would like for you to come with us, Betty; this time to stay!"

"That was the worst proposal I have ever heard," Gina chimed in. "She can sleep in my room during the waiting period," she snickered.

"Everything I own is in my car Bill," Betty responded. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't asked. I even quit my job!"

Chapter 12

As we stood hand in hand on the balcony looking into the night, the moon shimmered over the gently moving ocean before us. Maybe we were too old for a honeymoon, but this seemed so right. We left the sliding doors open so we could hear the surf, as we retired to the couch.

"Want to put on a movie," I asked knowing the answer.

"Do we need one?" she quizzed. I thought I could get the job done without props."

We needed no more comment. We both sipped our port and snuggled into each others arms. "I love you Betty,"

"I love you too Bill."

I slipped my hand to her breast and started massaging her nipples through the soft cotton fabric. We had all night; three nights in fact; there was no rush. "Do I get a table dance?" asked.

"Ok, when I have worn you out enough that you need one to get hard. That certainly isn't true now," she answered as she squeezed my hard member. "Darling, I always want to be exciting for you. I want variety and even some kinky stuff, but I will always be true to you. Bill, I am not too old to create a life for you."

"Do you mean a baby," I said.

"I would like for our love to bear fruit," she responded. "Please Bill, I know it may sound silly at our age, but I want that bond between us. I think tonight can be the night!"

"I will do whatever you need to make you happy, Betty. You deserve another chance, and I would be proud," I said smiling.

Tears welled up in Betty's eyes as she kissed me deeply. Our tongues danced together and our passion rose. She started to unbutton my shirt, and I undid the back of her dress. She pushed me back on the bed, kissed my chest, and sucked on my nipples. My cock strained at my pants, but she continued worshiping my body, seemingly oblivious to my slight discomfort.

"Oh my," she said. "I think something needs freedom," so she unzipped my pants and started caressing my cock. "I love this cock, Sir."

She licked up and down my shaft and sucked my balls gently. As she removed my pants she licked down my legs and sucked my toes as she pulled off my socks. Gently she turned me over, and starting at my neck she licked down my back to the crack of my ass. She licked that too before she got to that special place behind my balls that drives me crazy. I wanted her so badly, but I was going to let her have it her way.

Finally she took my cock into her mouth and made me feel wanted and needed. She was so gentle and loving, and this was so right. I felt as if I would explode any minute. She mounted me and started moving ever so gently, but after a minute she said, "I think I should roll over so your sperm will have an easier swim.

We did, but we took our time and made this union last for a very long time. There was no push to cum; we both just luxuriated in each other's love. As I felt the climax coming I could feel the vibrations of her moan on my lips. I felt my balls start to contract as the seed rose through my cock on its trip to destiny. Betty jumped as her first orgasm took control of her body, and I lost control and shot my warm sperm deep into her fertile nest. We lay there together because neither of us wanted this union to end. Finally Betty kissed me gently and peered deeply into my eyes. "This is forever my love," she purred.

Epilog: 

Betty and Bill have lived happily together to this day. They had a beautiful baby girl just nine months after the honeymoon, and of course she was spoiled by all of the kids.

Betty was a terrific mother to her new family, and never took advantage of Bill's submissive nature. She also started a new career writing children's stories and actually sold her first manuscript only six months after their marriage. 

Betty also made contact with her kids after a year, and found that their father had fallen on bad times. He committed the same sin that he had used to take the kids away from Betty by developing a serious alcohol and drug problem. Quincy came to the rescue again and obtained custody of the children for her. Betty had become a lady again, and she fit in well with her new environment.

Gina, Billy and Marsha got a birthday card during the first year after the divorce, but Camille was never heard from after that. She seemed to vanish from the face of the earth.

End

I wish express my appreciation to Ray for his editing assistance with this story.

I hope you enjoyed my story, and constructive comments will be appreciated. Of course accolades will be treasured.

All correspondence with a return address will be answered.

Lulabell