17 comments/  51169 views/  5 favorites

Pass

By: lakelover



Thanks to DawnJ for editing assistance with this story.





She said, "I am cashing in this pass. Please read what you wrote." She smiled at me and put the paper on the on the table in front of me. 

I was stunned. I had confidently relegated it to the back of my mind after three years of no mention. Here it was back to haunt me for my gross stupidity of being caught with one of her girlfriends in the throes of an orgasm. I was only two squirts in and I kept the piston action going for the next five squirts, as she watched. Carol her girlfriend was keening and whimpering about how good it was, she had her eyes closed and did not realize we were busted.

"You two are going to pay for your indiscretion!" Boy, had she been pissed! You could see the fire in her eyes and steam coming out of her ears. "Stay right where you are while I figure this out! Both of you keep quiet while I think," she said in a drill instructor's voice. She was fighting for control of her emotions.

I knew I was fucked; my marriage of four years was down the shitter. I had no one to blame but myself. My dick was shrinking and my balls decided that they wanted to hide up in my body. I was frantically trying to think of any way to salvage my relationship. I still loved my wife very much.

Then why was I fucking Carol in the spare bedroom of our house? I wasn't drunk so that was not going to wash. I was getting all the love and pussy I could handle at home so that excuse was a nonstarter. I wasn't depressed or stressed out at work and I brought home decent money.

No, the plain truth was that Carol was a smoking hot number and I wanted a piece of her and decided to go for it. She was more than agreeable as we snuck into the house while the party was going on in the back yard. We had thought that no one saw us but obviously we had been wrong.

My wife had her hands on her hips and she was tapping her foot, things were not looking good on the home front. Her eyes were narrowed and her jaw was set. She took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself.

"I am really disappointed in the two of you. You are both in this together so you get one chance to redeem yourselves. This is an all or nothing deal if one of you opts out, than you both lose. 

The wronged party always looses out on a cheating spouse deal and feels shitty for months after. I am not going to do that. I also don't want to lose having Carol as a friend with our group.

Carol your redemption will come when you eat my pussy to two orgasms and lick my pussy clean with your tongue right after I finish with my husband. You have 24 hours to accomplish that from right now."

Well, there went the ball game. Carol was the most vocal anti-lesbian of my wife's girlfriends. Additionally she felt it was beneath her to suck a cock. She had some issues, but she liked to fuck. I just knew that she would never do anything like that. The disgusted look on her face spoke volumes of her thoughts on that activity. 

My wife looked at me. "You can't keep your dick in your pants, cheating fucking husband, so you will sit down and write me a get out of jail free pass. It will be witnessed by Carol and me, which will say in no uncertain terms that I am free to fuck anyone I want for one night without any repercussions from you. It will be at my discretion and anywhere I choose. You will watch as Carol licks my pussy and then fuck me for her cream pie desert. You have the same 24 hour time frame as Carol. There will be no begging or threats to our marriage or repercussions of any type." 

"Now both of you get cleaned up and rejoin the party and try to look as innocent as possible and get those tears out of your eyes. I won't have you spoiling our party anymore than you already have." She turned and closed the door behind her as she left. 

Carol looked at me "What are you going to do? Are you going to let her fuck someone else?"

"I don't have a choice. I am totally wrong here and I need to pay the piper, so I will be writing her a pass tomorrow."

"I know I am partly to blame, so it's not all on you. I just can't see myself eating her pussy, then sucking your cum out of her after you cream her." Carol was crying more now.

"Carol, please, I want you to think hard about eating some pussy and cum one time versus being shunned by your girlfriends and causing a divorce. I would gladly change places with you if I could." Well, I had given it a shot. Maybe she would reconsider.

We rejoined the party and Carol split after forty five minutes. My wife brought me a beer and some food and said, "Don't look so glum. Put a smile on your face!" And then she was off to talk to some of her friends.

I hardly slept a wink that night and finally got up and went to the computer and searched for any help I could get with writing her pass. I was pretty sure it was in vain. I was not about to miss any chance that a miracle might happen. I plagiarized pieces of any document that had some good words or thoughts in them. I had three pages that I reduced to two pages and then to one page when I used the footer for signatures.

My wife was friendly when she got up. She fixed breakfast for us like normal. I was a miserable fucking wreck. I did my normal Saturday chores and as the hours passed by, my sinking dread loomed larger. Our deadline was 8:15 pm and it was now 5:45 pm. The doorbell rang; I was in the office printing the latest copy of the pass. I heard some murmuring in the front room but the printer was making too much noise to distinguish what was said. I signed the bottom of the pass and figured it was a lost cause anyway. I chose an envelope from the drawer. It was fuchsia-colored because that was my wife's favorite color. And then I just stared at the wall over the desk as if it had answers to why I was so fucking stupid.

"Honey, would you please come into the living room!" brought me out of my self-abuse. I walked into the living room with a hangdog look on my face. I was anticipating the worst. There sat Carol and she looked worse than I did, if that were possible. I just knew that she came over to tell my wife that she would not do it.

"Please bring me my pass that you have been working on." 

I had one shot left so I picked up the velvet cushion that was her favorite and placed the envelope on top. When I returned to the living room I kneeled in front of her and bowed my head and offered her the envelope on the cushion. All I got for my effort was a raised eyebrow.

"Carol, sit by me and let's read this together." They discussed every word and paragraph as I waited for the verdict to come in. 

It was later that I realized that we would not have gotten that far if Carol had not agreed to the terms. At the time I convinced myself the worst was here and was trying to come to terms with that.

"What do you think Carol? Did he achieve his goal?" 

Carol looked thoughtful for a moment and answered, "Yes I think he did. You could fuck Brad Pitt and everything would be good when you got back."

Now Brad Pitt was my wife's all time favorite heartthrob. There was no doubt in my mind that if she got the chance to do him she would.

"Carol has agreed to the conditions." 

I did not realize that I had stopped breathing, waiting for the axe to fall. I was not sure that I heard the words that she spoke. Was I reprieved from divorce court? As the words sank in, I gulped air and a smile returned to my face for the first time in 24 hours.

"Off to the scene of the crime you two. I will be in a moment." She went into the bathroom. 

Carol and I went into the guest bedroom and gasped as we took in the sight of the bed turned down and colored candles waiting to be lit. Massage oils neatly lined up on the night stand along with her assortment of toys. She had turned the bedroom into a brothel. 

She returned with an armload of towels. "Close your mouths, light the candles, and turn the music on. Then I want both of you to undress me slowly and kiss and caress my body." She was looking directly at me as she said, "When you are finished with me I want you to do the same to Carol. Then remove your own clothes and don't you dare touch your cock! Sit in the chair in the corner until I call you." 

I was fucking confused. Not only was I lost, I was in outer space tumbling along directionless. Every way I tried to add 2 and 2, it still came up 3 1/2. Was I being punished or set up for the big letdown? Was I forgiven and was this a threesome? The logic of this was beyond me.

"Carol, come over here and suck on my nipples." Carol looked like a rat in a trap. My wife lifted her tit for Carol to suck on.

I watched in amazement as Carol took the first hesitant lick of the nipple.

"Come on, sweetheart you can do better than that." My wife reached around to the back of Carol's head and gently pulled her on to the nipple. "Yes, baby, that's better, just keep that up." My wife ran her fingernails thru Carol's hair.

Holy shit, she was seducing Carol right before my eyes! I was in shock. If I had been at a loss before, now I was totally confused. "Sweetheart?" What the fuck was up with that? Was my wife a lez? 

My wife pulled Carol up to her and kissed her on the mouth. Her lips were open and a hint of her tongue was sticking out. Carol's posture stiffened and then slowly relaxed. My wife continued to run her fingernails through Carol's hair and then kissed her way along her jaw line to her neck. She nibbled on her neck just under and behind her ear. You could visibly watch Carol surrender herself to my wife. She pushed Carol down to her nipples and this time Carol attacked them as if they were full of milk. My wife had broken a barrier in Carol that opened up the flood waters to come rushing through. 

The cooing and encouragement continued as Carol licked her way down to my wife's pussy. Carol didn't hesitate one bit as she nursed and licked her first pussy. My wife spread her legs as wide as possible and Carol gave my wife her first orgasm. 

I was conflicted. Was she going to leave me for Carol? Was she going to take Carol as her lover and cut me off? Was she going to play for the other team? Was I going to be in her life after this? Had she been seeing Carol before and was this a setup? Was there still divorce in my future? These and a million variations were running through my head.

Carol brought my wife to a screaming second orgasm with a triple play -- the 'G' spot, pussy, and clit combination.

"Come over here honey you are up next, or maybe not?" She was looking at my dick.

My dick was at half mast. My nerves were frazzled and I was shaking a little. The combination of everything I was thinking about and the confused state I was in produced a half hard-on that refused to get hard.

"Carol, suck his dick and get him hard please. He is really nervous and tensed up."

"Yes, ma'am!" Carol said and proceeded to give me a poor blowjob. 

Two minutes latter my dick was hard. Even a poor one is better than nothing.

"Come here, lover, and fuck me hard." She wrapped her legs around my waist and put her hands on my back as she pulled me into her.

I was ecstatic to be back in her silken pussy. If she wanted hard I was going to fuck her hard. I gave her my best impression of a jackhammer until I came gallons in her pussy. Well it seemed like gallons.

Carol was in a trance; my wife had charmed her into doing anything she wanted her to do. "Carol honey, mama has a nice cream pie for you to lick." 

Carol only hesitated a moment and then buried her tongue in the cream pie.

"Kiss my husband and let him lick cum off your face."

I flopped beside my wife when I finished cumming and before I could protest Carol straddled me and had about seven inches of tongue down my throat. I tasted my own cum for the first time and licked her face clean.

Carol's pussy was rubbing on my cock when my wife pulled Carol off me. "Now we don't want to start over again do we?" she smiled.

"Okay boys and girls, this is how this is going to work. This started here and it's going to end here! Nothing more is going to be said about this period. Everything is going to be back to normal as it was two days ago. Now play nice and don't make me sorry that I made this decision." She was smiling as she walked out the door to the bathroom.

"Thank you, Carol, for all you have done tonight. If you ever need anything call me, except you know." I had tears in my eyes as I left the room.

The first few months I was on pins and needles. As time went by I returned to my old self with a few exceptions. I kept my dick in my pants and never went anywhere with a single girl or woman again. I preferred at least three women if at all possible or would figure out a way to go alone.

Now after all this time she wanted to use her pass. It must be someone special if she was willing to use the pass. I started to worry again and fret. Then I reviewed the last three years. Not once after that Saturday had she said a word about the incident. In fact, the next night we had fucked like rabbits. I had no basis to be as worked up as I was getting myself. I decided to roll with it. Time for me to pay my side of the deal.

"Hello! Earth to spaceship Enterprise! Anyone home in there?" She was trying to get my attention. I had zoned out for a while.

"Have you got anything to say?" she inquired.

"Be safe and have a nice evening." I smiled at her.

"That's all; I would have bet money there would have been more." She looked hesitant.

"When," I asked. Today was Tuesday.

"Friday evening" she replied.

"Anything you want me to do for you before then?" I inquired. 

"No, I have everything covered, thank you for asking. I love you." She smiled.

She kissed me long and hard and went to fix dinner.

I practiced my relaxation exercises and centered myself. Maybe there was something to this stuff after all.

Wednesday and Thursday were normal days and we made love both days. She wanted it slow and passionate, so that's what we did. I was determined to put my insecurities in check and make sure her pleasure was my top priority. 

Friday was an entirely different story. When I got home from work she was in a dither. It seems that the guy she was going to hook up with arranged to have someone for his wife. Well that someone had backed out at the last minute. So now there was no one for his wife. They were burning up the phone lines trying to find a last minute stand-in. I grabbed a beer and went out on the back porch with my book and started to read.

Twenty minutes later she came out on the patio and said "Can I ask you something?" 

I thought she wanted me to go to the store and get something for her so I said "Sure. What do you need me to go get?"

"Please hear me out before you say anything. Would you be the fourth tonight? It's even more complicated. I told him my husband was supposed to be out of town, so you must be one of my boyfriends tonight. Finally, when I asked him what his wife looked like, he said she had a great personality." She had a worried look on her face.

I started laughing. "Complicated? Did you say complicated?" The tears were starting to run out of my eyes. My sides were starting to hurt. "Is this an audition for a soap opera? You are making this up aren't you?"

She started laughing also and said, "So what's your answer?"

"Okay, I will be your boy toy tonight with Mrs. Personality. When do we have to be there? And what is the dress code for tonight?" I had an hour and a half to look "Killer casual." 

As we were driving over to their house, she said, "Please treat her real nice tonight and make sure she has a good time. Don't worry about Edward he is just a pretty face I want to have one time. When it's over I will check it off my bucket list and return to my boy toy for the long run." 

They lived in the rich part of town. Their house would have made three of ours. We were met at the front door by the maid and ushered into the great room with expansive views. In walked the most distinguished man I have ever seen. If you looked up "class" in the dictionary, you would see his picture. I could see what attracted my wife to him. I was introduced to Edward and he became the perfect host. If opposites attract then that would explain his wife. Millie was more of the country girl mousey type. 

After fifteen minutes, her personality made you forget that she was on the plain side. I became engrossed in talking and flirting with her. She could talk about any subject and make you see the humor in almost any situation. Her eyes sparkled as she regaled you with an item about some subject.

Edward and my wife stood up and said "Have fun you two, please leave your door open when you retire. We will do the same."

Millie stood up and held out her hand and said, "Shall we?" Then she guided me down the hall to what I presumed was the master bedroom. When we entered, the only word I can use to describe it was opulent. She dimmed the lights and used a remote to bring the sheers across the windows. Next, the music started softly in the background, the fireplace started with a whoosh, and the mood was set. She looked at me expectantly.

I said, "Today is your lucky day, you have won the lottery, and you can have anything your heart desires. If you have any fantasies that you want to explore, I will do everything in my power to see that you are satisfied." I was slowly stroking her arm and hand as I looked into her eyes and smiled. 

She bit her lip, cast her eyes down, and shifted from foot to foot. "Are you sure?" I nodded my head yes. She took a deep breath looked into my eyes. "When I was in college, I was a goody two shoes and lived vicariously through my sorority sisters. I always wanted to go to the Frat parties but always chickened out. I secretly wanted to be a frat house whore for one night. Would you do that for me, please? My husband could never treat me that way. We tried once, and it was a disaster!"

I was gaining a new respect for Millie as the night went on; she knew what she wanted and was going to get it. "You know that I will be rough with you, if I do as you ask. You will have some black and blue marks on you tomorrow. You will be my fuck toy for the evening and I will use you hard. Do you think you can handle that?" I could smell her scent. she was starting to cream in her panties. I later found out that she did not have any on.

"Oh God, yes, please use me!" She gasped. 

I grabbed the back of her hair, pulled her head back, and sneered into her face, "Take my dick out and suck my cock bitch!" as I pushed her down to my crotch. She had my dick out in no time, in her mouth, and she was sucking like a pro. I was fucking her face and shoving my dick down her throat. She was pulling my ass harder into her face as we went along. "I am going to cum down your throat cunt. Get ready, here it comes!" I unloaded a huge load of cum in her mouth and told her to suck my balls. She finished swallowing my cum and sucked on my balls giving each one a good sucking.

I grabbed one of the armless chairs and put it in the middle of the room. She looked at me with an inquisitive look. "Undress me bitch, then yourself. Give me a lap dance and get my cock hard, if you want me to use it on you." All my frat days were coming back to me. We should have been put in jail for some of the things that we pulled. My wife did not enjoy any of this, and made it perfectly clear.

Millie had long nipples and a large clit. Those would be sore to the touch tomorrow. She had a bit of a bubble butt and was about average height. She was never going to wear a size 0; she was sturdy looking. Let's put it this way -- I have awakened with much worse after a night of drinking. 

She rubbed her B cup tits all up and down my chest to my cock. She spread her legs and rode me with her clit rubbing my cock. She brought herself off while she masturbated herself on the outside of my cock. We took a mini break and used the bar in the bedroom to refresh ourselves. I made sure she was Okay with this.


Pass-Around Slut



"Holy shit!"

This was not an unusual reaction to being walked in on.

I'd been stripped of my clothes - what little I had been told to wear - and they had been thrown in the corner. I'd been ordered onto my knees, my chest forward and my hands behind me. I'd had "SLUT" written across my forehead in thick permanent marker. And all of this was done in the men's room of a shitty dive bar. You can imagine the surprise when guys came in and saw me.

"Hi, Sir! I'm here to clean off your dick after you use the urinal." It was a line Master had ordered me to speak to each new man that entered, designed to get right to business, or so I'm told. It also had a way of degrading me, like everything he did. Telling a man you'll suck him off in the first second you meet him was bad enough, but I felt even more like trash just by putting it in the same sentence as "urinal".

He looked over at Master, who was leaning against the wall.

"Uh... Is this girl for real?"

"Her mouth is there for fucking. Gag the whore. It keeps her in her place." I dropped my head at this.

The guy clearly started to get excited.

"You had her yet?" he asked.

"Had her? Shit, I own her. Why do you think the little cum dump is here right now?" Master drew his gaze toward me. "Open up, slut."

I opened my mouth, sticking out my tongue, as I'd been trained.

"See what I mean?" Master said, looking back at the guy but pointing a finger at me. "She does whatever the fuck I tell her to."

This guy clearly didn't need any more convincing. "Fuck pissing," he said, unzipping his jeans. "I'm already hard as fuck as it is." He had his cock in my mouth before he could even finish the sentence.

It was always very humiliating when Master made me suck off a stranger. He trained me to keep my hands behind my back at all times, and I never knew how rough the new guy was going to be. I tried to give good head so he would let me do all the work, but he clearly wasn't the type. Within seconds, he grabbed my hair and shoved his cock balls-deep in my mouth.

I started to gag, but that didn't stop him. He held me there for several seconds, and I could feel the head of his cock in my throat. Then he yanked back hard on my hair, giving me air. My eyes were already starting to water when he shoved my head back down on his cock.

This time he didn't hold me there, but instead started using my skull to mouthfuck him. I gagged each time he hit the back of my throat, spit drooling out of my mouth and down my chest.

"You look up at a man when he's using your mouth, slut."

I knew better than to disobey Master, so despite my gagging and choking, I made sure to keep eye contact with this guy. He must have loved that, because he grabbed my hair with his other hand and started thrusting into me while yanking me into him. I felt like a sex doll, her mouth hole being used without care.

"Hey, you know what feels even better than her mouth?" Master said to the guy, who didn't pause facefucking me.

"Huh?"

"Her cunt."

The guy slowed down his assault of my throat, clearly interested. My humiliation increased anyway. I'd asked Master if we could just use my mouth tonight, and he'd just laughed. He didn't care what I wanted.

"But you know what?" Master continued. "She didn't bring any condoms with her."

Oh, no.

"And I bet you don't have any condoms on you, do ya?" It looked like the guy was about to say yes, but Master shook his head at him.

"Oh. No. Nope. No condoms on me, either."

"Ah, well. A good slut doesn't let that stop her. On your back and spread, slut."

I did as instructed, my hands still behind my back, laying on the dirty bathroom floor. The guy didn't waste any time getting between my legs, cock in hand, ready to fuck me. I looked past him, and noticed something on the wall.

"Master, wait! There's a condom machine. Right there, behind him." I motioned with my head,

Master looked at me, at the condom machine, then back at me.

"It's out of order."

The guy took that as his cue to ram his cock into my pussy. I felt his bare cock hit my cervix. He started fucking me hard, not caring about my pleasure, which was rising anyways. I ached to have my hands at my clit.

"Master," I pleaded. "Can I play with my clit while he fucks me?"

Master bent over and grabbed my hair, his face close to mine.

"You haven't earned that yet, slut. Now watch this stranger bareback you." He yanked my head up so I had a view of the bare cock sliding in and out of me.

"Yes, Master." Watching made me feel even sluttier, and I could feel my nipples getting harder, my pussy getting wetter. Even without clit play, I could cum off this, if given enough time. But this guy definitely didn't care about my pleasure, so I couldn't get my chance.

"Oh, shit. I'm just about to cum." Fuck.

"Hey slut, where do you want him to cum on you?" Master asked.

"On... on my stomach... or my t... my tits..."

I could feel him start to get even harder, start to tighten up. Master leaned in a bit.

"Cum in her cunt."

I let out a little yelp and felt him start to explode inside me. I hated cum in me, and I could feel this stranger's cock shooting it in me anyways. He pushed his dick in as deep as he could, putting his seed as deep inside me as possible. He moaned. I felt completely used.

The guy quickly got up, shoving his cock back in his pants. "Shit!"

"Hey, go tell a friend. Or a stranger. Let someone else have a crack at her." I wondered how many more guys I would serve tonight. The guy left, a bit weak in the knees.

"Slut," Master said, looking at me. "Back in position."

I obliged, getting back up and on my knees.

"Any of that cum leaks out of your cunt and onto the floor, and you're licking it up." I nodded.

Not 10 seconds later, a new guy walked in.

"Holy shit!"



Pass It On



PART ONE

‘Buses are such wonderful inventions,’ thought Sidney Q. Wickington as walked from the ticket counter toward the departure area. ‘Where else do you get to spend hour upon hour with total strangers, none of whom particularly cares to know you, none of whom will even think about you after they disembark? It’s absolutely perfect for me!’

Taking his small carry-on into his left hand, Sidney walked outside the depot, quickly spotting his transport. The silver bus with its blue and white sign stood empty as of yet; the driver stood smoking a cigarette, leaning easily against the side of his vehicle.

“Excuse me, sir, is this the express bus to Dallas?”

The driver flicked his cigarette away and stood up straight. “Yes, it is. Can I help you with something”

“Let me introduce myself. My name is Sidney Wickington, and I’ll be riding on your silver chariot today.” Sidney offered his hand to the bus driver, who accepted without qualm. “I always like to meet the person who is in charge of the driving before I board, just to make sure that I’m comfortable around them. And I can already tell that you and I are going to get along fine.”

For his part, the driver could only nod. After he had accepted Sidney’s hand in his own, he had lost the ability to speak, the ability to think…the ability to do anything but listen to Sidney’s words and accept them as gospel.

“Now, my good man, I just want to make sure that you understand the way things are going to go. Nothing strange is going to happen on this bus. Right?”

“Nothing strange is going to happen on this bus,” the driver parroted.

“Excellent. I do love a quick study. And you are going to keep your mind on your driving and your eyes on the road, and not mind whatever happens behind you.”

“Eyes on the road. Nothing happening behind me.”

“Superb, superb! You and I are going to get along so splendidly. Last thing,” Sidney paused to look at the man’s nametag, “Mr. Greene. While you should act normally around the other passengers, once the bus is started, you shouldn’t listen to them if they ask you to do something. I am the only person you should listen to and obey immediately. Do you understand?”

“Listen to you. Obey you.”

“Very good! Now stand there for a moment, won’t you? I’ll be right back.”

Sidney clambered into the bus, leaving the driver staring off into nothing, his hand still extended. Minutes passed, until Sidney finally reappeared, breathing a bit heavily. He returned to where the bus driver stood, and regripped the extended hand.

“Perfect! Oh, and you shouldn’t remember any of this; we were just having a nice, getting acquainted conversation prior to my getting on the bus.” Sidney released the bus driver’s hand. After standing completely still for a moment, the driver raised his hand to his head…and removed his hat 

“Will there be anything else, sir?”

“No, my good man, that will be all for now. I know that I’m in good hands on this trip.”

And with his business finished, Sidney turned around and walked back into the terminal, leaving a slightly confused bus driver who felt like he needed either a couple of Tylenol…or a stiff shot of bourbon.

Or both.

*****

Sidney Wickington never liked to board buses until the last minute. In that way, he was able to position himself among his fellow passengers to utilize his talents to best effect.

In this instance, he was able to sit in his favorite spot, almost exactly dead center of the bus, on the aisle. Even as he reached his chosen seat, the bus lurched into motion, and he let the motion propel him heavily into place.

“Looks like this is my stop,” he joked to the young woman in the seat next to him

Her only response was to roll her eyes as she continued to look out the window.

“You know, young people should be more polite,” he said, tapping her on the back of the hand.

She turned to face him, her eyes and mouth full of anger. “Why should we, you old pervert?”

His finger stopped tapping and remained solidly lodged against the top of her palm.

“Because you never know when you might meet someone who can change your life…permanently.”

Any response she might have made was caught in throat, as her eyes rolled up in her head and her body stiffened, her fingers gripping the armrests as if she was suddenly in intense pain.

His finger moved from her hand to her temple. “Sleep,” he said softly.

She slumped, as the tension that was there only a moment before disappeared.

He shook his head sadly, murmuring to himself “Why does everyone have to be so rude anymore?”

Still, his gaze lingered on the sleeping form of the young woman. Her baggy gray sweatshirt bore the logo of a major southern university. ‘Ahhhh…how I remember my own college days. Classes in the morning, parties all night. It’s amazing that I ever got anywhere at all in my life!’ he thought, chuckling at his own private joke.

Something inside him stirred at the thought of his own carefree college days, and suddenly one particular idea that had been mixed with the myriad memories of the past was isolated and carried to the front of his brain.

Looking over at his seatmate, Sidney grinned wolfishly. “Looks like I was right my dear,” he said softly to the uncomprehending co-ed. “Never be rude to the man who can…and is…going to change your life. Permanently.”

He settled himself comfortably into his own seat, his right hand encircling her left wrist.

And then he closed his eyes.

*****

The sign by the side of the road said “Thank you for your stay in ATLANTA, GA. Come back and see us soon.”

Having seen it many times before, Mr. Greene paid no attention. His mind was on his driving, his eyes on the road. In the lengthening shadows, he switched on the bus lights, anticipating the coming of night.

What happened behind him didn’t matter to him at all.

PART TWO

‘Express service…shit! 14 hours of hell, that’s what it is!”

Denise Burcham hated buses. ‘No, that’s not quite right,’ she corrected herself. ‘I hate traveling, period! Cars, trains, planes…they’re all bad enough. But buses have to be the worst!’

However, expediency and funding had come together to force Denise to take the quickest form of transport she could afford. Had she boarded one of the regular, stops-in-every-other-city buses, she would’ve been 12 hours late for her sister’s elopement. As it was, she might just make it to the courthouse to stop what Denise knew would be a regrettable error on her sister’s part. Which was why she was on the all-night express bus to Dallas.

‘In the fucking shitter, no less,’ she cursed mentally. ‘Damn my weak bladder!’

Still, she had to admit it was a cleaner toilet than most she had encountered on buses in the past. It didn’t smell like chemicals, or old piss. It smelled…sweeter, somehow. It was almost enough to make the need to use the little closet bearable.

Almost.

As she stood up, she rammed her elbow into the side of the metal box that served as a sink, and again was reminded that people of her size were not necessarily the models used when such bathrooms were designed. ‘Thank God this bus is half-empty! I don’t know what I’d do if I had to sit beside somebody and try to squeeze into what the bus company thinks is a suitable seat!’

She stood for a moment, her pants around her ankles, caught between the momentary pain of her elbow and the constant rage she felt at being large. Nothing ever seemed to fit her; nothing ever seemed to be made just for her; no one ever seemed to look at her and think nice things. Their faces mostly reflected disgust, or pity. Looking into the metal rectangle that passed for a mirror, Denise whispered softly, “Fuck me.”

Still, there was something…distracting…about the smell floating around the bathroom. She took a piece of toilet paper from the roll next to the toilet and blotted her crotch absently, trying to identify what it was about the scent that so captured her imagination. Her mind was so wrapped up in the thought that she didn’t notice when the wad of toilet paper fell from her hand…or when she began rubbing her finger over the mound that hid her clit.

Lost in thought, she remained standing, gazing into her own reflection, her finger’s motion quickening as her own juices lessened the friction over her clit. Sliding back and forth…back and forth…mmmmmmmmmmm….

At that moment, the bus hit a pothole, throwing Denise back into the door of the small toilet.

“What the hell am I doing?’ she whispered angrily, pulling her hand away from her clit. “Fingering myself in a fucking toilet, for God’s sake! I must be out of my mind! Thank God the door didn’t pop open when I fell against it!”

She trembled at the mental picture of her, naked from the waist down, falling out into the aisle of the bus, her hand still buried in her pussy. She again pulled some toilet paper from the roll and blotted herself, then flushed it down the toilet.

Beside the sink stood a small bottle of what looked like anti-bacterial soap. As she squirted some into her hand, the scent she had been so keen on just a bit earlier hit her full in the face again.

‘Oh, it’s the soap that’s making that smell.’ She brought her hand closer to her face. ‘Damn, that’s some good stuff.’ She took another deep whiff, closing her eyes. ‘I wonder where I can get some of thisssss….’

Lost in the scent, Denise Burcham’s mind simply hung on that last word, the pearly liquid in her palm held mere inches from her nose.

Had she been able, she might have been more than a bit startled by what happened next.

The ‘soap’ in her hand began to move.

It slid slowly across her palm, until it rested just below her nostrils. Then, like a dog rearing on its haunches begging for a treat, it started to rise, shaping itself into tendril no larger in diameter than a drinking straw. It continued to rise, reaching the woman’s left nostril. Pushing itself deeper. Then, apparently stretched to its limit, the movement stopped, but only for a moment.

Finding purchase somewhere inside the nostril, the creature started pulling the rest of itself up, away from the hand in which it was resting. Slowly, like white mucous flowing in reverse, it packed itself into the nasal cavity. Then, probing, sliding, and shaping itself as needed, it burrowed through the soft tissue behind the nose and into the cranium, using its tail to seal its passage.

At which point, Denise Burcham had a massive orgasm. Then, like a puppet with its strings cut, she slid down the wall into the floor, unconscious.

And, reclining in his seat with his eyes closed, Sidney Wickington smiled.

His hand no longer held the wrist of the entranced co-ed next to him, but instead rested on her denim-covered crotch. Pressing down in one spot.

A spot that was now sporting a dark-colored stain.

*****

“WELCOME TO ALABAMA” read the newest sign the bus passed in the night.

Mr. Greene never took his eyes from the road.

PART THREE

Denise Burcham awoke to frantic knocking at the door of the bathroom.

“Hey, lady! Are you going to be in there all night? I’ve got to use the bathroom!”

“uhhhhhh….” She couldn’t remember much. Fragments of memory spun. Fingering herself. Orgasming. The smell of that wonderful soap.

“Are you alright in there? Do you need some help?”

“NO! I’ll be right out!” She didn’t want any more embarrassment. She’d already done something so seedy, so completely unlike her….

‘But you enjoyed it,’ the thought came, unbidden, into her head.

As she slowly pulled herself up off the floor, she acknowledged that she had never cum like that before, either with anyone else or by herself.

‘You’d love to do it again, too.’ Again, the thought came floating across her mind as if in someone else’s voice.

Pulling up her pants, she thought that, at the right time, in the right place….

‘No. Soon. Here.’

And with that thought, Denise froze. ‘Something is very wrong here,’ she had time to think….

The pounding at the door began again. “Lady, I’m going to get the driver if you don’t come out of there!”

Not wanting that, Denise cracked the door.

“Really, I’m okay. I think I hit my head on door when we hit a pothole, but I’m okay. Just let me wash my face, and I’ll be right out.”

The red-faced man standing outside the door looked at her doubtfully, but, spurred by his bladder, nodded and mumbled something about “just hurry up” before quickly averting his eyes.

Her pants were still unfastened, and she flashed a bit of her panties through the door as he watched.

A fact that did not seem to bother Denise Burcham one bit.

Reluctantly, she did fasten her pants, and bent quickly to retrieve the bottle of soap she had knocked to the floor when she fell.

Holding it in her hand, she relived the intense sensations the smell of the soap had given her. Looking at the bottle, she wondered….

‘Take it. No one will notice,’ said the voice in her head.

She slid the bottle into her front pocket, careful to remind herself to remove once she got back to her seat.

Then, smiling happily, she left the bathroom and walked back up the aisle.

*****

Roger Cord watched the fat woman waddle back down the aisle to her seat, wondering what she seemed so happy about.

‘If she really did hit her head, maybe she addled her brains so much, she doesn’t realize she’s been locked in the damn toilet for two hours! Stupid cunt!’

Cord eased cautiously into the toilet, expecting to find a mess. Finding only the normal metal fixtures typical of such things, he was at least grateful that he didn’t have to wade into someone else’s leavings.

‘The fat cow was even considerate enough to leave the toilet seat up for me.’

Unzipping, Cord pulled out his cock and waited a moment for the piss to work its way up the length. ‘Been holding it in so long, now it doesn’t want to come out!’ In the meantime, he began to sniff the air.

‘Huh. This is the nicest smelling bus toilet I’ve ever been in. Wonder what they use to keep it smelling so good?’ Occupied with that question, he barely noticed when his urine began streaming into the bottom of the metal bowl.

He continued inhaling the scent of the bathroom, his eyes looking up at the ceiling without really seeing it. As his bladder finally emptied, Cord stood, his dick in his hand, unmoving.

Until he finally began moving his hand slowly down the length of his penis.

And back up again.

Squeezing slightly, with his thumb and forefinger in an ‘O’ around the base.

Until he was hard as rock.

It was only when his ministrations actually began to hurt that he looked down at what he was doing. ‘Sonofabitch! What the hell I am doing?’

Of course, by then, it was much too late for him to stop.

*****

Denise Burcham made sure that, when she returned to her seat, she unfolded the blanket she had brought with her. After carefully removing the ‘soap’ she had stolen from the bathroom and placing it in her purse, she sat down in the middle of the two seats she had to herself, and leaned them both back, covering herself in the blanket once she was comfortable.

She had been grateful that the bus was nearly empty, since it meant she didn’t have to share her seats with someone else. Now, she was grateful because no one was sitting across the aisle from her. So that, when she eased open her pants and reached her hand under her panties, no one observed her movements. No one saw the rhythmic motion of her fingers between her already slick pussy lips. No one watched as her head thrashed back and forth, as her body jerked as if being intermittently shocked by electric current.

While he could not see her directly, Sidney Wickington didn’t need to. Lying quiescent in his seat, he could sense every time the core of her being was assailed by the constant battering of orgasm after orgasm. Until it finally collapsed under the assault.

Denise Burcham was no longer unhappy with herself. None of it mattered to her anymore. She lay reclined in her seat, her fingers finally stilled, a smile on her face.

The same smile that was on the face of Sidney Wickington.

*****

Roger Cord’s face had gone from its customary red to near purple.

He had lost track of how long he had been running his hand over his cock, of how long he had stood on the edge of orgasm. All he really felt was that something was missing, something that would allow him to finish, and that he needed it desperately.

It was desperation that finally lead him to open the cabinet below the sink, to find several dispenser bottles of what the label identified as antibacterial soap. Grabbing one, Roger was distracted for a moment by the scent…but only for a moment.

Placing the dispenser bottle on the counter, he quickly pumped out a handful of the pearly-white cream, and began running it over his erection.

Almost immediately, he felt an easing in the pressure in his penis. A sense of relief, a sense of peace flooded through his body as he massaged the gooey substance over his shaft. As he pumped faster, the ‘soap’ ran down his crotch and onto his ball sac. Somewhere in what was left of his consciousness, Cord thought ‘It feels like someone is squeezing my balls!’ A thought that was followed more or less immediately by ‘uuuuuuhhhHHHHHHH!!!’ as he came like a fountain in the toilet.

His knees giving way from the intensity of his relief, Cord found himself prostrate on the floor in front of the toilet bowl. Leaning against the metal lip of the basin, he could not see what was happening around his dick. Perhaps it was a small blessing that he couldn’t.

The ‘soap’ that he had used to bring himself off was slowly pooling, moving from individual strands into a mass around the base of his penis. From there, small tendrils were extending up his cock, moving quickly toward the head. Even as Cord started realizing that something felt wrong down there, the first of the tendrils reached the opening at the top.

Startled, Cord jerked his head up and stared down at his crotch. Just in time to see the first of the tendrils bury itself in his penis. Followed by a second, and a third.

Any further thoughts, such as trying to stop the invasion of his cock, were swamped by the incredible pain of a biological entity forcing itself up the tube so recently evacuated by his jism. As his body went rigid in pain, the last thought Cord had before passing out was ‘OHHHH SSSSSHHHHHIIIIIITTTTtttttt….’

*****

In his seat, Sidney continued to grin. His hand had slipped inside the waistband of the young co-ed, and, as he stroked her, she moaned and shook in her forced slumber.

*****

The sign by the side of the road this time read “WELCOME TO MISSISSIPPI.”

Mr. Greene only had eyes for the road ahead.

PART FOUR

Samantha Cord timidly approached the door of the bus toilet.

She had been sleeping fitfully since the bus had left Atlanta, and when she awoke, Roger was not in the seat next to her. After waiting for more than hour for him to return, she had finally gotten up herself.

At Roger’s insistence, they had sat in the second row of seats from the front, away from the rest of the bus’ passengers. Not that there were that many to begin with.

As Sam walked back toward the door of the restroom, she passed a large woman covered by a blanket, apparently dreaming of something nice, as she was smiling in her sleep. A few rows back from her, an older man was also asleep, also smiling. Beside him, a girl that could be his daughter turned restlessly, her face covered in sweat.

Beyond that there were several rows of empty seats. The only other passengers on the bus sat in the next-to-last row: a young Hispanic couple, both asleep, the young woman with her head in the man’s lap, her legs curled up into her chest. A few more steps, and she stood in front of the door of the only place left that Roger could be.




Pass It On



She raised her hand to knock…and then hesitated.

When Sam and Roger had gotten married five years earlier, he had been a caring and romantic person, always bringing her flowers, calling on the phone, taking her away for weekends in the country where they would rarely leave the bed. 

The last few years, though…they had seen a deterioration in their relationship. As the economy had tightened and money had gotten scarce, Roger had changed. No more flowers. No more weekend trips. Fewer and fewer phone calls. Their sex life had dwindled to once a week, if he was in the mood.

Through it all, Samantha had held on to her belief that things would get better. Even as he ignored her, she kept trying to show him how much she loved him. Keeping house. Cooking. Kissing him, touching him. 

And then he had hit her.

She had only wanted to remind him that his mother was coming by for dinner; she had walked into the den and walked in front of the television, saying his name….

She explained the bruise on her face to his mother as a misadventure in the shower.

It had happened a few times since, and each time he had gotten down on his knees and begged her forgiveness, promising it would never happen again. And each time, she forgave. Wondering about when the next time would come.

So she hesitated, knowing that the next time could come any time.

But he had been gone so long….

She knocked.

Once.

Then again.

“Roger? Are you in there? Are you okay?”

*****

Unlike Denise Burcham, Roger Cord felt no pleasure after his body was invaded.

His body was on fire, each nerve flooded with severe pain.

If Cord were aware enough to reason, he might have understood that the creature had used his cock as a convenient gateway, but that its true target was his brain. And, with the shortest distance between two points being a straight line, his spinal cord provided the most perfect pathway from his nether regions to his spongy control center.

And so, Roger Cord was simply a mass of quivering flesh, writhing in pain on the floor of the toilet, when his wife knocked on the door.

“Roger? Are you in there? Are you okay?”

Roger Cord, the man, was in no position to answer that question.

The creature that was slowly squeezing itself up Roger’s spinal cord was in no position to answer it either.

Sidney Wickington just smiled…and began to move his lips.

*****

“Sam….”

She heard Roger call her name through the door.

“Roger? Honey? Is something wrong?” She pressed her head against the door, trying to hear him.

“I think I fell. I’m not sure. Hard to think….”

“Can you open the door, sweetheart? I’ll come in and help you.”

There was a long pause.

”Roger! Talk to me!”

“I think I can move enough to open the lock. Stand back.”

She stood back a step; a minute passed, then two. Until finally, she heard the lock click on the door, and the sign changed from “occupied” to “vacant.”

Samantha opened the door and stepped inside.

*****

When you are in a room the size of a closet, 3/4ths of which is taken up by a sink and toilet, there isn’t much room to sprawl.

Yet, Roger Cord was indeed sprawled in the toilet, his head lying against the base of the metal toilet bowl, his legs above his head, resting against the cabinet under the sink.

Had Samantha taken a moment to think, she might have wondered what Roger could have been doing that would have possibly gotten him jammed into this position.

Instead, she immediately knelt down beside his head. “Honey, are you all right? What happened? Can you move?”

“Ohhhh, my head. Keep it down a little bit, okay? I have a serious headache!”

She lowered her voice slightly. “Can you move?”

“I think I can, if you help me. You’ll have to help me turn a bit, so I can push myself up.”

She pulled his legs outward from where they rested against the sink, enabling him to push his body into a sitting position, with his legs blocking open the door.

At that point, she noticed his cock. Out of his pants. Pointing at her.

“You…you…you’ve got a hard-on!” she gaped.

“I’ve got a headache! Who cares about my cock?”

Under normal circumstances, Samantha would have been more concerned with whether her husband was seriously hurt. However, he had been holding her wrist ever since she had helped him turn over.

And his hand was covered in ‘soap.’

As was his cock.

In short order, three things happened:

Roger found himself on the toilet seat, to make himself more comfortable;

Samantha was on her knees, Roger’s cock buried up to its hilt in her throat;

And Roger found himself sporting a wolfish grin. Just like Sidney Wickington.

*****

The sign across the bridge said “WELCOME TO LOUISIANA.”

Mr. Greene never even noticed.

PART FIVE

Samantha Cord was quite content.

When her husband came like a geyser down her throat, she swallowed everything. Including the ‘soap’ that had covered it.

She panicked for a moment when she felt something moving in her throat, when she felt what she thought was cum reversing its course and starting to travel back up toward her mouth.

She tried to yell, to scream, but with her airway blocked could only make a slight squeaking noise. She tugged on her husband’s leg, but he lay with his head back and eyes closed, a feral grin on his face.

In a few moments, the mass that had invaded her throat had risen into her nasal passages, and she gasped desperately for air through her mouth. But by the time she had recovered enough to think about screaming, a thin tendril had extended itself into her cranium, right into the pleasure center of her brain.

And, soon after that, Samantha too sported a grin. Which was mirrored on the face of her husband.

Which started on the face of Sidney Wickington.

*****

When Samantha awoke again, she quickly stood up, kissing her husband on the lips.

For the first time in years, he grabbed her and kissed her in return.

The problems of the past were forgotten. All that mattered was here, and now.

She stripped for him, as he sat watching her, his cock again growing hard at the sight of his once timid wife doing a strip tease in front of the still open door of the bathroom.

When she was finished, she fingered her glistening pussy, then slowly brought her finger to her mouth, tasting the juice that had blossomed there.

He stood, stepping out of his pants, and then pulled her into the toilet. Bending her over the toilet bowl, he spread her legs, and without preamble began sliding his cock in and out of her pussy. It was not making love; it was a savage, animal coupling, pounding her from behind as she cried and screamed and begged for more.

She came once, then once again, and a third time as he loosed his own orgasm into her.

And, as he held her in the afterglow of their frenzied fucking, he heard a noise behind him.

The petite Hispanic woman stood at the doorway, her eyes and mouth reflecting the same ‘O’ of shock.

“¿Qué?” she managed to get out of her mouth…before Roger turned and threw a handful of ‘soap’ in her face.

*****

Rosa Hernandez had been sound asleep, when the noise from the open bathroom door had awakened her.

She had been dreaming of happier times, when her family had been together, instead of scattered to each side of the US, doing whatever it took to earn money. Migrant farming, domestic help, casual labor…more than once, she had regretted leaving to elope with Francisco, causing her family to tell her to stay away, as she was no longer considered a “good Catholic girl.” So she and Francisco had made their own way, she as a cook, he as a laborer…until the phone call from her mother had changed it all. “Your papa is dying, Rosa. Please come home and be with him before he dies. He needs to see you.”

So they boarded a bus in Florida, and another in Atlanta, and now where only a few hours from their goal. And when she got there, she had her own surprise for the family that had displaced her….

She rubbed her belly, thinking warm thoughts of the child still growing within, knowing that it would bring her closer to her mother and her older sisters, who already had at least one child each. Whether she could close the wound that existed between her and her father….

‘Why don’t those damn gringos stop making so much noise?’ Rosa thought to herself. Fed up, she finally decided to give them a piece of her mind, even if they likely wouldn’t understand it.

It was only a few steps from her seat to the open bathroom door, and she stood shocked and silent as the bare ass of the naked gringo man came toward her, then thrust forward again into his woman. She had never watched anyone else have sex, had never wanted to…but there was something stirring about it, something exciting.

Watching them, she never even noticed the smell permeating the air around the toilet, surrounding her, even as she breathed it deep into her lungs.

By the time the woman and the man finally came together and rested against each other in the bathroom, Rosa was sweating, her hand inside the waistband of her simple skirt, fingering her own pussy in reflected lust.

When the man turned to her, she meant to back away, to apologize for intruding on their lovemaking. But all that could come from her mouth was the word “What?”

Then, the white liquid the man threw at her blinded her. It landed everywhere…including her open mouth.

Soon after, she was on her knees, her fingers desperately trying to bring her to climax.

Samantha and Roger decided to help her. Samantha did her part by lying on her back, licking and sucking the girl’s pussy; Roger again let his cock be used like a pacifier, buried deep in the girl’s throat. Rosa let the passion carry her away, until she fell unconscious, covered in cum, after her third orgasm.

Eyes still closed, Sidney Wickington smiled a Texas-sized smile. It was echoed immediately by Denise, Roger, Samantha…and Rosa.

*****

This time, the sign said “WELCOME TO TEXAS.”

Mr. Greene’s could have cared less.

PART SIX

Francisco Hernandez had loved only one woman in his life. When he first met Rosa, he had kidded his friends that she would be the woman he married. Through what passed for school in their run-down neighborhoods, he had carried her books, studied with her, and even gotten beat up for her on occasion. That her father had thought him not good enough to marry his daughter didn’t matter. He knew he was going to marry her, and that’s what he did.

And, though life was never easy, they managed, and they still loved each other madly. He would come home at night, and she would have dinner prepared, and afterward they would make love until exhausted. More than that, he would soon be a father. To Francisco Hernandez, life was as near perfect as he had ever thought possible.

He felt Rosa shaking him, trying to get him awake, something that was never easy to do at any time. Once asleep, only a siren next to his ear was likely to pull Francisco from dreamland.

When he did open his eyes, he thought he must still be dreaming. Rosa was kneeling beside him in her seat…naked from the waist up! And while he loved seeing her breasts, if he wasn’t dreaming, then his wife must have gone completely insane.

“Wake up sleepy-boy! I have a surprise for you!”

“Rosa? What?”

“Look at my breasts, my love. Look at what has happened!”

As Francisco watched, Rosa squeezed her generous breasts. And, first from one nipple, and then the other, a small amount of milk dribbled from the tip.

Francisco shook his head sharply. ‘I have to be asleep!’ he thought, starting to sit up in his seat. Starting to, but not quite making it when Rosa jumped into his lap and pinned his shoulders with her hands.

“Silly boy! You’re not going anywhere! I need you to suck the milk in my breasts, and tell me how it tastes!”

Francisco knew he was still dreaming then, at that moment. His wife never was so bold, never so forward. So he was still in dreamland after all. And the beautiful woman that was his dream wife wanted him to suck her breasts, which he would be delighted to do in any case. So he let her pull his head to her left nipple.

He was enjoying the dream immensely…until the milk started to move in his mouth.

*****

As Sidney Wickington continued smiling his satisfied smile, the group of five people behind him took turns milking each other in fantastically exotic ways.

At one point, Roger was taking Denise Burcham from behind, as she gave Samantha’s pussy a tongue-lashing. Francisco was being ridden by his wife, who held his head to her breasts, letting him go only when he sucked all the milk from her newly lactating bosom.

When they all had cum at least once, Denise began sucking Francisco’s cock, as Denise rimmed her asshole with her tongue. Rosa spread her ass cheeks and begged Roger to ass-fuck her, which an extremely difficult but rewarding chore.

In the end, they would have continued making each other cum all the way into Dallas, had not Sidney Wickington opened his eyes and stood up in the aisle.

All activity ceased as he turned to face them, and they all quickly dropped to their knees before the one who now held them in thrall.

He smiled down at them, letting them bask in his approval of their newly found sexual liberation. Then, he concentrated for a moment, mentally giving them their final task for this particular trip.

At his command, the two men rose and moved past him, lifting his seatmate from her chair and standing her in the aisle. Sidney moved to her, and touched his finger to her temple again, unlocking the mental binders that had kept her asleep.

*****

When Tanya Kessen awoke, her head was filled with cotton wool. She looked around her, and her first thought was “Why am I standing up?”

Her second thought was “Who are these guys holding me?”

Her third was “Why are they taking off my clothes?”

Indeed, Roger and Francisco were stripping her very methodically, removing her sweatshirt, her pants, her socks, her bra and panties. And, instead of doing anything about it, Tanya let them do it, helping them from time to time by lifting a foot or raising an arm.

Something inside her head said she should be worried that she WASN’T worried about this.

Something else inside her head said ‘Shhhhhhhhhh.’

Directly in front of her was the man who had sat down beside her when the bus started in Atlanta. That was the last clear memory she had of the entire trip. Until now.

Now, that man was being circled by three women, who were, piece-by-piece, removing his clothing. Like some pagan ritual of old, they moved in precise rhythm, hampered only by the narrowness of the aisle. Until he too stood naked before her.

The other men and women sank to their knees, leaving only Tanya and the naked man standing. That’s when the man smiled, and began to speak.

“My dearest Tanya. The last piece of the puzzle, so to speak. You must have many questions.

“But I will not answer them now. Once we are done, you will have all the guidance you need. You will be the beneficiary of years of knowledge and experiences…and whether you enjoy it or not…it will be your burden for a long, long time to come.

“Let’s begin.”

With that, Roger stood and moved behind Tanya, and Francisco, still on his knees, moved in front of her.

Roger began kneading Tanya’s breasts, even as he kissed and licked his way across her neck and shoulders. Francisco licked and sucked his way up her pussy lips, pausing only briefly to suck hard on her clit before working his way back down again.

Meanwhile, the three women began to use their hands and mouths on Sidney’s cock, licking and sucking and fondling and squeezing. To Tanya’s amazement, what arose from their ministrations was the largest tool she’d ever seen – 18 inches long if not more, and seemingly as big around as a salami! It was to a normal cock the difference between a rifle and a bazooka. For a moment, Tanya felt terror rising like a wave in her mind.

But the wave never crested; Roger and Francisco increased their efforts at stimulating her, while the voice in her mind told her to relax, that it would all work out correctly.

When Sidney’s cock reached its full length, the ritual changed again. Now Roger lifted her from behind and placed her on the back of the kneeling Francisco. He slid her down until her ass was directly on top of Francisco’s. Then, Francisco adjusted his position until she was flat on her back…and her pussy was directly in line with Sidney’s cock.

The three women led Sidney forward, each with a hand on his fully extended member. As he approached, Rosa and Denise let go, each taking a position at Tanya’s side. They each took one of her legs, lifting them up into a “V,” putting her cunt on display.

Samantha lead Sidney’s cock right to the entrance of Tanya’s pussy, then, using her free hand, she spread the pussy lips and put the head of the cock inside them.

As Sidney looked down at her, Tanya thought she saw something change in his face. “For what I am about to take from you, I am sorry. Hopefully, what you get in return will be worth it.”

Sidney thrust…and Tanya’s world fragmented again in soul-splitting pain.

*****

In the dark, voices whispered to Tanya. Tales of a race of shapeless creatures known as the Nomads, who, not having a home of their own, chose to roam the universe inhabiting the homes of others. They were traders in experience, in memory; their ability to provide a glimpse inside the cultures and mores of other species by actually living through that species was reviled by some, celebrated by others. 

That was how one of the Nomads’ ships had landed on the Earth years before, searching for new species with which to bond. But, in this case, most of the Nomads had died before a way was found for them to inhabit the bodies of the race known as humans. And few humans refused what they had to offer: increased mental ability, photographic memory, mental control through touch, and the ability to create small “slivers” of themselves, which could then root in the minds of others, providing mental control of those infected as well as a pipeline to all of their memories and experiences.

And, once in a great while, a Nomad would procreate; to pass on the genetic knowledge gained in the body of a human, the creature would split itself in two, depositing the newly created duplicate self into a different host. Thus, the Nomads would continue, not overwhelming the human race, but collecting experiences and fostering new ones that would one day be returned to the stars for the entertainment and education of other races, other species…other galaxies.

That she had been chosen to be such a host was partially luck of place, and partially luck of age. Being in college at a major university provided so many more opportunities for studying the youth of a burgeoning planet; as well, perhaps some hosts could be found from other countries, extending the reach of the Nomads study to other parts of the planet.

The whispers began to fade away again, except for one last voice. ‘For each gift we offer to your species, there is also something that is subtracted. We offer incredible power, but lack of freedom – you will be compelled to seek out and mine new experiences and memories, willingly or not. You can control others, but not to any appreciable personal benefit. You will observe and experience the sexual experiences and orgasms of many others, but you yourself will never again experience one in your own body. You will always be healthy, and always be youthful, until such a time after you have spawned into another host and may choose to end your own life; but you will never bring another human life into this world.

‘We are a blessing and we are a curse. But you have been chosen. And, for now, you have no other choice.’




Pass It On



And the whispers faded away.

*****

As the bus pulled into the terminal in Dallas, Mr. Greene heaved a sigh of relief. It had been just like any other trip, nothing unusual about it, not at all. Yet, as he stood at the bottom of the stairs and lit his first cigarette of the day, he couldn’t help but notice his hands were shaking. Leaning against the bus, he closed his eyes for a moment, and took a deep drag of his cigarette…then was startled by the sound of someone clearing his throat.

“Ah, Mr. Greene. You’ve done such a fine job driving us through this night. I just wanted to shake your hand in thanks.”

And though, somewhere in his mind, a voice cried “Don’t do it!” in a terror-stricken way, Mr. Greene felt his right hand extend outward almost reflexively.

*****

Having finished his last task, Sidney Q. Wickington stood on the curb at the bus depot and contemplated his next move.

It had been a long time since he had had that luxury.

Having passed on the sum of the experiences and memories he had collected as a Nomad host, he was released from the compulsion to do anything more. He was free to go where he wanted, and do what he wanted…up to and including ending his own life.

He turned and looked back at the bus, thinking of the six sleeping people within. Five of them would wonder if it had all been an erotic fever-dream. Until they found the bottles of ‘soap’ in their luggage, with the one simple instruction that ruled all the Nomad hosts across this planet, or any other.

Pass it on.

And they would invite their best friends to a party, one night soon, and put out their special dispensers of ‘soap’ in the bathroom…and then even more memories and experiences would belong to Sidney Wickington. As it had been for one hundred years now.

He ran his hand over his face, suddenly feeling old and tired, though his body had not aged more than 10 years in the last hundred.

‘I think I’m getting too old for this shit,’ was his last thought…

…before he stepped into the path of an oncoming bus.

*****

When Tanya awoke that morning, she was alone, in the front seat of the bus, directly behind the driver. All of the other passengers had already gone, including the ever-smiling Sidney Wickington.

As she began to rise from her seat, Mr. Greene rose from where he was sitting, looking more than a little relieved. “Mr. Wickington said I should stay here with you until you woke up, to make sure you made it to your next stop okay.”

Tanya began to stretch, then stopped quickly. Apparently, she had already been stretched to her limit in at least one spot in her body.

Mr. Greene stood in front of her, holding her bag, trying not to appear eager to get her off his bus, and failing miserably. “Mr. Wickington told me to give you this when you woke up, but to tell you to read it when you were alone.”

She nodded her thanks as he handed her a folded note. Then, with nothing better to do, she walked down the stairs and out into the day.

Inside the bus depot, she walked over to the nearest bench and sat her bag down, inviting Mr. Greene to do the same with the one he was carrying. “I’ll be alright from here out, Mr. Greene. Thank you for looking after me.”

Mr. Greene looked at her with a bit of puzzlement in her eyes. “I don’t know why, missy…but I don’t believe I had any choice.” And he tipped his hat and hurried away.

Alone, she opened the note, handwritten by someone in an apparent hurry:

Tanya:

By the time you read this, I will have made my own choice, the first time I have had that luxury in nearly 100 years. I have enjoyed my time as a host and as a human…but, though I find the technological advances dizzying, I find myself doing the same things over and over. I am growing bored.

By luck or by chance, you have become the receptacle of my fate, my redemption – though not by your own choice. But, your spirit is strong, and you still have much to learn. In that, I envy you. 

Take your time. Learn what you are and are not capable of doing. Listen to what the voices of experience will tell you. And always remember the primary rule.

Pass it on.

S.Q. Wickington

She glanced at the note for a moment more, then balled it up and threw it over her shoulder.

She ignored the sounds of sirens as she took her bags and moved toward the cabstand.

FINIS



Pass Me the Festivus Pole



Pass Me the Festivus Pole: Group gift exchanges.

As Frank Costanza from Seinfeld would say, "The tradition of Festivus begins with the airing of grievances." Pass me the Festivus Pole, and listen up.

Takes Festivus Pole

This year, the number of group gift exchanges has gotten out of hand for my family. I appreciate that it's an attempt to limit the number of gifts we buy and to make things equitable at work and school. I also like the clearly defined price ranges, even though a low limit can often make shopping harder rather than easier. I love the sentiment behind all of the giving, but it's gotten out of control for us.

So far this year, my family members are participating in thirteen gift exchanges or donations, and it seems like they continue to crop up, even with less than two weeks to go until Christmas break. 

Number 1 $25 Lee Extended Family Christmas Party Gift Exchange: This one keeps us from buying twenty individual gifts for all the cousins. It's great in theory, but not all gifts are created equal. The lottery tickets and Dunkin' Donuts gift cards are popular. The hot chocolate gift sets, not so much. One year I got a shower curtain that didn't match either of my bathrooms, and my father got a Canoe cologne gift set, which he put in a trash barrel at the rest stop on the way home from the party. Fragrance is kind of a personal thing. Why would anyone buy the gift of fragrance when the giver doesn't even know if the receiver will be a man or a woman?

Number 2 $25 Work Exchange for Patientlee: It's classier than Mr. PL's work exchange, but I usually get screwed, and not in that good way. One year I got nothing. Another year I got a huge assortment of cheap-ass candles. I'm a snob; anything less than a Yankee Kitchen Candle goes in the trash. I especially hate the pressure to participate in this one because we use it as a rallying cry for unity and morale. I'd rather just pay a "Morale Fee" at the beginning of the school year than have to shop for somebody I hardly know.

Number 3 $20 Work Exchange for Mr. Patientlee: Mr. PL works with a bunch of jokesters that go out of their way to buy gifts that the recipient can't actually use. The old guy gets Depends and women's reading glasses. The woman with little kids at home gets a camel-toe t-shirt. Mr. PL brought home a farting reindeer one year. They collectively waste hundreds of dollars on gag gifts each year. I'm pretty sure they're keeping the "novelty" companies in business.

Numbers 4-13 $5-$10 Exchanges for the Lee Kids' School, Scout, Daycare, and Team Exchanges/Donations: The five-dollar gifts add up. I feel like a miser buying crap at the dollar store, but I'd go broke buying all these little gifts. This year, some of the groups changed it up. Instead of exchanging gifts with other kids in the class, they asked for donations to Toys for Tots, Operation Christmas Child, or to the local children's hospital. It's a nice idea, but what bugs me is that they stress that the kids will learn the joy of giving. All my kids learn is how to find the first thing they see with a five-dollar price tag while Mom stands at the cash register, fishing pennies out of the bottom of her purse for the tax and yelling, "Hurry up! The scout meeting starts in four minutes!"

I'm not a Grinch or a Scrooge. I'm not cheap, and I like to give to others. I can't keep up with all the "forced participation" in exchanges with people I wouldn't normally buy a gift for just because everybody else is doing it. My budget doesn't allow for purchasing all of these gifts and gifts for the special people in my life. There's no wiggle room to splurge on my work friend because I spent my extra money on a gag gift for someone that Mr. PL doesn't even like.

My attitude toward gift exchanges comes from my very first, way back in dance class when I was six. I was so excited. My mother had purchased a box of modeling clay. Not Play Doh—actual clay in four colors. I couldn't imagine what kind of treasure I might get in return.

Class ended, and we lined up to pick our gifts from the cardboard box full of joyous, wrapping-paper-swaddled, five-dollar gifts. I was last in line, but I was patient, and I trusted that the last gift would be as special as the first, since we couldn't see the gifts under the wrap. 

My turn finally arrived. I peered into the box and found a green envelope. My heart sank. Even before I opened it, I knew. I had just been screwed. Hard. By a generic Christmas card from a box. It didn't even have a fucking candy cane taped to the envelope! My six-year-old faith in "there's enough for everybody" was shattered that day, and a life-long distrust of group gift exchanges was born. 

Next year I'd like to skip the obligatory group gift exchanges and use the money I save to show the special people in my life that they're important to me. Who's with me?

Passes Festivus Pole



Pass or Fail



Amy stormed into her dorm room and threw her books on her desk. 

"Damnit, I'm freaking failing this class!" 

Her roommate Carey looked up at her, wide eyed, from her computer. 

"What class is it?" she asked, eyeing her rather angry friend. 

"Stupid Computer Science! I fucking hate it, but I need the stupid credit!" Amy snarled, her voice sharp. "The professor sits up there, all high and mighty, and thinks that we can 'magically' understand all of his geek speak. I mean, come on, we're not all geniuses." 

She flopped onto her bed in exasperation, her red hair fanning out over the pillow. She didn't want to mention to Carey that she'd secretly been lusting over the guy who was teaching the class while she was supposed to have been taking notes. And that for all the time she'd wasted dreaming about a night with him instead of paying attention, he didn't seem to notice her at all. 

Carey frowned along with her friend and asked, "Isn't that Professor Moore's class? He's a newer prof, ain't he?" 

"Yeah, he's new," Amy sighed, " and he's tough. Really tough! Have you ever seen him?" 

"Why? Is he cute?" giggled Carey. 

Amy rolled over onto her belly, her pillow hugged to her chest. 

"Well, maybe he is," She grinned. "Why don't you judge for yourself? Come to class with me tomorrow and see!" 

Carey giggled harder. Amy rolled back over, holding her pillow tighter still. 

"What the hell! Why not?" Carey said. 

Amy looked at her upside down from the bed. She hadn't expected that answer, and now didn't quite know if a tag-along critic was what she really wanted. Especially one who knew her well enough to realize that there was no way she should be in this much trouble in what should have been a simple class for her. Oh well!! It was out there. No graceful way to back out now.

"Sure, why not?" Amy repeated, trying to be enthusiastic. "I could use the moral support." 

The next day, the two girls found themselves walking across the quad towards the Computer Sciences building. Neither said very much. Carey seemed uncharacteristically lost in thought. Amy was trying to come up with any sort of a good excuse to go this one alone.

"Maybe you should talk to him," Carey finally offered. " I'll bet he'd be willing to help." 

Amy just shrugged and held her books tighter to her chest. Her glasses slipped a bit, and she pushed them back up with a practiced motion. Finally, she made the decision to come clean. 

"Ok, ok, so maybe he would help. I haven't talked to him because...well...I have a bit of a crush on him, and I'm a bit tongue tied around him, ok?" 

She rushed through the last few words, hoping maybe they'd just slip by.

Carey looked at her with both approval and amazement.

"Ah-ha! I knew it had to be something like that!! He must be cute!" Carey giggled tauntingly.

"Terrific," thought Amy. "Just what I need!!"

She hadn't wanted to mention her crush to Carey because Carey had no problem attracting guys and being able to talk to them. With her long straight light brown hair, her ready smile and knockout curves, she had them eating out of the palm of her hand in minutes. Even though she wasn't a wallflower by any stretch, Amy had always felt a bit dowdy around Carey. She was shorter but curvy, and her long red hair and fair skin were enviable. Today she had her hair back in a ponytail and was wearing an oversized mans dress shirt, tied up to show just the right amount of skin over her tight, hip-hugging jeans. Still, she had herself convinced that all the sideways glances from they guys they passed as they walked must've been aimed at Carey, not her. Finally they reached their building, and as they entered the classroom, Carey's giggles echoed in her mind, haunting her. 

Class was torture, with Carey whispering dirty or suggestive remarks in her ear all the time. From the moment the professor entered the room, she couldn't concentrate at all...as per usual. She watched his mouth as he lectured, his lean frame as he walked in front of the whiteboard, and became more and more nervous as the class drew to a close. When the bell rang, Carey pushed Amy towards the desk as the rest of the students filed out. With a nervous look over her shoulder, she approached the professor and cleared her throat. 

"Um, Professor Moore? Can I...um...talk to you for a minute?"

He looked up from gathering his notes into his attaché case to see who had approached him.

"Um.....Amy? Right?" He said, waving at the final few students as they filtered out of the lecture hall.

Carey saw her friend's face flush when she realized that he actually knew her by name from the sea of anonymous CompSci students. 

"And you?" he said, turning to Carey, "I'm afraid I don't recognize you. What happened? Did Amy drag you along to try to keep her awake during class? I see she didn't nod off, so you must've been keeping her stimulated."

Carey snickered, thinking about what the teacher would think if he really knew what she'd been doing to keep Amy's attention.

"Nice to meet you. My name's Carey. And yeah...I'm just passing through today."

"Well Carey, I'm hoping you'll be a positive influence on your friend here. For reasons I can't explain, she's just hanging on by a thread in this class. I've seen her transcripts and have no idea why this is such a struggle for her." He turned his attention over to Amy. "But I'm afraid the bottom line is that if you don't do something to turn yourself around soon, you'll be right back here taking this class again next semester."

Amy felt a bit ill hearing those words spoken out loud.

"So ladies, what can I do for you?"

"Um...look, Professor, I really need to pass this class, and I'm wondering if there is a way to get some tutoring, or make up work, or..." 

Amy faltered, her courage deserting her in the face of his stern look. She licked her lips, and tried to summon up her arguments again. Carey kicked her ankle, and she stumbled forward, spilling her book and notes onto his desk. Red faced, Amy mumbled an apology, and the professor stopped her with an upraised hand. 

"Really Amy, you're almost too far behind as it stands. I don't think that makeup work is going to cut it. Tutoring might help, but the semester is almost over, and I really don't see what we can do." 

Amy's eyes watered, and she nodded mutely as she gathered up her books and notes she had spilled. The professor helped gather a few of her papers nearest him, and after glancing at them he paused and looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She blushed fiercely when she realized that the notes he held were from the day before, and they weren't computer science jargon. She had been daydreaming about kissing him and writing about it during the class. 

He cleared his throat.

"So...I'm beginning to get an idea of what the problem is," he said, his face becoming even more stoic than before. The whole situation was calling up memories of how she used to feel as a kid when her father would scold her for something she had done, and she had to genuinely fight the urge to just turn and run away. Even Carey felt a bit awkward standing there, watching the scene unfold.

"Look," he continued, "If there's one thing that burns me, it's a talented student throwing away a promising situation because her mind isn't where it should be in class. I know what you're capable of. I know this should be a snap for you." 

She squirmed uncomfortably in place. He sighed, and thought for a moment.

"I'll tell you what. You're not going to get an A in this class, but you're not guaranteed an F either. If you really ace the final, you've got a chance of squeaking out of here with a D. Why don't you swing by my office tomorrow evening and I'll give you a one-night, crash tutoring session. You're bright. You should soak this up in a snap! Maybe it'll be enough to just put you over the top."

Her face brightened. 

"But..." he continued, "You'd better come prepared to study! A semester's worth of review in a night isn't gonna be a piece of cake!"

"Oh don't worry!!" Amy said, suddenly hopeful, "I'll make you proud of me!"

"So go on then! Get out of here, and I'll see you tomorrow...my office, 7:30."

"Don't worry, Mr. M!" Carey replied. "I'll make sure she's ready!"

Amy could barely make it through the next day. Luckily she didn't have his class that day so she was able to block it out and focus on her other work. But then as the evening rolled around, she was starting to get the nervous jitters. Carey noticed, and just had to razz her a bit about it.

"Oh come on, lighten up you dweeb! You're finally going to get a chance to see him all by yourself, and all you can do is fret about it." She started rooting through Amy's closet, pulling out top after top. "Damn, woman, don't you own a single piece of clothing that shows of any kind of skin?!"

"I'm going there to study, Carey, not get laid!" 

Amy looked at her friend with exasperation. 

"Yes, I think he's hot, but he's not going to want anything like that from me." 

Carey looked at her from over her shoulder and smiled. 

"Amy, take a chance. He's young, cute, and he's the one who made this late study session. It's the perrfect opportunity!" 

She grabbed out a black button down shirt, and tossed it aside. 

"That's it, I'm loaning you one of my shirts. I didn't realize what a sorry shape your closet was in." 

Amy rolled her eyes, and nervously chewed a fingernail. Carey started tossing tops at her. 

"Look, I know that you can be very shy, and that you haven't had a lot of action. Is there anything I can do to help you relax?" 

Amy shook her head, then started to pull off her own shirt to try on Carey's. Carey looked at her friend with a bit of gleam in her eye. Amy had beautiful breasts that swelled with every breath, and her hips flared very nicely into her low rise jeans. Carey leered at her and said, "If he says no, he is missing out!" 

Amy blushed. She pulled on a tight tank top that Carey had given her that left very little to the imagination. Carey smiled in a naughty way and winked. Amy looked at herself in the floor-length mirror, and shifted around, 

"I think I'll borrow this one," she said, thinking that maybe she might...just might... take a chance after all.

Carey followed her to the professor's office that evening, giving her all kinds of flirtation advice. 

"If he comes over to point something out, brush your hand against his! If you have to go to him, lean over enough to give him a glimpse of cleavage...and hold it there for a second! Trust me, he'll get the idea." 

Amy nibbled nervously on her lower lip and sighed. It wasn't like she didn't want to give it a try, but she was afraid that he would take offense and ask her to leave and that would lead to even more awkwardness in the classroom. Possibly also, she thought, to her dismissal from school.

"All right Carey, leave it be," she said finally, her nervousness making her voice tremble just a bit. Carey looked at her friend and gave her a hug. 

"You'll be all right Honey. And hey... I'll be just outside in case you need backup," she said with a big grin. 

Amy grinned back at her, trying to match her friend's irrepressible good humor. Then she straightened her borrowed top, took a deep breath, and summoning up her moxie she knocked boldly on his office door. When he said, "Come in," Carey gave her a big thumbs-up, a naughty wink, and sent her on her way.

She stepped into his office for what she realized was the first time. It was a bit more pedestrian than she'd imagined...bookshelves, closet, large desk, a few chairs, small sofa against the wall. Somehow she'd envisioned a swanky oak and velvet office for him, like you might see at Harvard or Oxford. And then she noticed him. He sat behind the desk, looking down at his notes as always. He was dressed much more casually this time. Gone were the professor's slacks and ties from the classroom. Instead he was wearing a simple white T-shirt and a pair of vintage jeans. Amy did a double take when she saw him. She had to remind herself that this was a teacher and not some upper-classman that she might run into in the dorm or the local Starbucks.

"You know," he said thoughtfully, and then finally looked up at her, "I've been thinking about how this would go all day long."

Her heart leapt at those words. She had been thinking about it too...about a taboo late-night rendezvous between teacher and pupil.

"And I've decided," he continued, "That the best way to go about this would be to pretty much summarize each unit we covered. It'll go quicker that way, and you're bright enough to read between the lines and fill in the details later."

"Read between the lines," she thought to herself. "God, if only HE would read between the lines!! Figure out why I'm wearing this damn tank top to a study session...why I'm flunking a class when I should be blowing the curve for everyone else!!"

"Amy?" 

She realized she was doing it again. Letting her mind drift off on tangents rather than focusing on what she was really there to do.

"So what do you say Amy? Should we get to work?"

She sat down in one of the chairs, pulled it up by his desk, and pulled out her notebook. For a while they worked on a couple of units. She quickly came to realize that once she buckled down she was really getting the concepts quite rapidly. Still, she was finding it very hard to ignore the fact that he was barely three feet from her. She was acutely aware of the way he smelled, of the way the muscles moved under his tight t-shirt, and the timbre of his voice...so close she could hear it resonating in her ears and feel it sending shivers down her spine. Her nipples were achingly hard, and she had a hard time keeping that fact from him. He made computer language sound erotic; and the way he glanced up at her from over his glasses was making her heart skip beats. She started to lose focus again, her body taking over and shutting her brain down as he tried to review the third unit. He looked at her and blew out a tired breath. 

"I think it's time for a break," he said, standing and stretching, and her jaw dropped watching him move. His jeans were just tight enough on him that she could see the curves of his thighs, and when he turned to walk around his desk, she saw the tight roundness of his ass. She literally had to shake herself out of her erotic reverie, and she stood up as well, rubbing at her eyes, trying to look inconspicuous. 

"Well, we're moving along at a good clip," he said, sitting down on the couch and leaning back a bit. "I think we'll be done in about 3 more hours. If you applied yourself this well in class, we wouldn't have to be cramming like this." "I know, Professor, I'm sorry," she stammered, her eyes never leaving him. She walked over and sat on the opposite side of the couch, her heart pounding, her breathing coming faster. Her panties were getting damp from her heightened arousal, and her jeans felt tight from the swelling of her sex. "I do understand the concepts, I just get a bit..." She stumbled for the right word. "...Distracted, that's all." He arched an eyebrow at her, and smiled tiredly. 

"I've noticed. Look...I know my classes don't cover the most interesting topics in the world, and I know how hard it is to constantly pay attention, but you just can't slack anymore!" 

Something in the back of her mind started to think of all the little "tips" Carey had given her. Almost against her better judgment, she decided that if there was ever going to be a time to pull out the stops, the time was now. She smiled shyly at him and scooted a bit closer to him. 

"I do pay attention," she said, biting her lower lip as seductively as she could, "it's just that sometimes I'm just not paying attention to the subject matter." 

She leaned closer and placed her hand on his knee. He looked at her in surprise for a moment and then abruptly stood up. The outraged look he gave her nearly melted her as he said, "I don't really think that that is appropriate at all!!" 

She stood up as well. Now that she'd made her real intentions for the evening known, he all of a sudden became very aware of her body and the unexpected ambush she had been trying to set. He could see her breasts swelling in her top as she breathed rapidly, and her nipples standing out in blatant detail against the tight fabric. And then he noticed what he knew was the real Amy. She was blushing furiously and tears stood out in her eyes, telling him she knew she had made a terrible, stupid mistake.

"Oh god! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!! I should just get going!" she stammered, going over to gather up her notes. 

He put his hand on her notes to stop her and shook his head. 

"No, we need to finish this session. I don't want you to fail Amy." 

As her named rolled off his lips she shut her eyes, trying to calm the rush of hormones making her dizzy with embarrassment, humiliation, and desire. 

"I'm going to go get a coffee, give you a minute, then I'll be right back." With that, he walked out the door.

Amy watched him leave out of the corner of her eye. She sat down in her chair with a sigh, a whirlwind of emotions flooding her body. Part of her wanted to crawl under the desk and die. Another part of her kept telling her what a wonderful, sensitive, forgiving guy this had to be, and that part of her was setting her on fire. The door opened a bit, and Carey stuck her head in. 

"I saw him leave," she said, "how's it all going?"

"Oh, I made a move, and he rebuffed me. I've made a total ass out of myself," Amy said with a sarcastic sigh. "And regardless, I just don't think he finds me attractive at all."

"You've got to be kidding me! What the hell's wrong with this guy?" Carey wondered out loud. "Ok...it's not ending like this! Come with me!!" Carey grabbed Amy's hand and yanked her back into the office.

"What the hell are you doing??!!" Amy yelled. "It's over, OK?? I made a fool of myself, now it's time for me to pass or fail on my own!"

Carey took her cell phone out, put it in camera mode, and handed it to Amy.

"Oh no...this isn't over yet. You're passing this class! Just be ready!" she said, and ran over to hide behind the closet door.

"Carey! What the hell are you doing?!" Amy yelled with an incredulous look on her face. "You're gonna get me expelled!!"

She never got her answer as the door opened and Mr. Moore walked back in. Amy stood there, panting and confused.

"Are you OK?" He asked her, looking at her curiously. " Ready to really get down to work?"

She looked nervously towards the closet. "Uh huh..."

"Good!" he answered with a smile. 

He moved around and sat down behind his desk. 

"Third unit...."

Just as he started, a half-naked Carey ran out from behind the closet door. 

"NOW!" she shouted to Amy as she flew across the room and landed in the professor's lap. Amy took out the cell phone and hit the camera button, catching a perfect shot of Carey kissing the professor, her naked breasts pressed up against his chest.

He struggled and finally lifted her up off of him and dropped her down on the desk.

"What the hell do you think you're doing??!!" he demanded. "Are you looking to get yourselves kicked out of school??!!"

Carey looked at him like the cat that had swallowed the canary.

"Oh no," she began, "Just the opposite!" 

Amy looked at them, not knowing how to feel or react. She was embarrassed as hell, she was impressed with Carey's initiative, and she was actually furious that Carey had been the one to kiss him and not her. 

"You're going to be passing my friend Amy here," Carey continued.

"And why exactly would I be doing that??"

"Well," A powerful grin crossed Carey's face. "How do you think the administration would react to a picture of you kissing me behind your desk! And me?? Oh my, I was so hurt that a professor would take advantage of me like that!!"




Pass or Fail



He knew he was in trouble. She was right. No matter what the truth was, an accusation like that would probably end up forcing him to resign just on reputation alone. Amy could see the anger and frustration burning on his face.

"Fine!!" he yelled. "You've got your D. Now get the hell out of my office!!"

Amy felt terrible. Nothing about this situation was how she had wanted it. She wanted him to lust for her, not hate her. And she never...ever...thought she'd have to resort to blackmail just to pass a simple CompSci class.

He sat there at his desk, head down in his hands. Carey climbed off the desk and started to walk out of the room. When she looked at Amy, her jaw dropped in shock. A topless Amy motioned for her to join her as she walked slowly, silently around towards the desk.

"Mr. Moore?"

"Are you still here?" he asked with his head still buried. "I thought you were leaving."

"Mr. Moore," Amy said quietly, "I've never asked for anything that I wouldn't want to earn. I wish you'd give me a chance to do that."

He lifted his head and for the first time saw the two half-naked college coeds, one standing on each side of him. He was beaten, shocked, offended...but also intensely aware that his cock was suddenly hard as a rock. Amy continued talking to him.

"Why don't we say that this is just a D?" She put on her best innocent pout. "Would you please let me try to earn a higher grade??"

Amy was trembling inside, shocked at her own boldness. She sat down on the edge of his desk, leaning forward slightly and started to run a hand down his arm. He stiffened and cleared his throat several times. Amy could see the bulge in his jeans and her mouth watered. Carey also perched on the edge of the desk, waiting for a cue from Amy, her own body now awake with anticipation. Amy glanced at once over to her beautiful friend, and with a nervous lick of her lips, leaned over and kissed him on the lips. He didn't move for a moment but his lips relaxed into the kiss, and his eyes closed as he moved his hand up her arm to cup her jaw. 

Carey, not wanting to miss any of this, leaned in as well to lightly swirl her tongue around the curve his ear. She sucked in the lobe, nibbling a bit, while running her hands down the taut swell of his chest, tugging up his shirt from his jeans. 

Amy moaned and placed his hand on her bared breast, giving his hand a squeeze with her own. His fingers closed over her smooth flesh, her nipple hard and poking at his palm. He lightly pinched her nipple; pulling a bit and making Amy draw in a breath in reaction to the pleasure and the pain. She allowed her tongue to trace along his cheek to his other ear, nibbling and sucking on the lobe as he continued to caress her chest. 

Carey lightly grabbed his other hand and placed it on her breast, encouraging him to give her the same treatment. Amy kissed her way down his neck, her hands helping Carey's to move his shirt up, lightly running her nails over the hard planes of his belly and chest. She purred as her hands ran through the dark hair covering his chest, leading the way down into his now very tight jeans. He let out a moan, his brain and body on fire from the dual treatment. He gave in to the very determined young ladies lapping at his ears and neck and decided to play along. The truth was, his body was giving him no choice.

"All right," he said breathlessly, pushing them both back onto the desk and adjusting his position in the chair to accommodate the rather large bulge in his jeans. "You have definitely earned that D. Now, what will you do for a C?" 

He pulled his shirt off completely, and tossed it to the side. Amy was almost literally drooling at the sight of him sitting there in nothing but a pair of jeans, his hard on looking like it could break the buttons. She licked her lips and looked at Carey. She was grinning, clearly very into the scene. Reaching over, she pulled Amy in for a kiss. He was mesmerized as their lips met in front of him, and his cock gave another jump as the girls gave each other a long, wet kiss, their hands roaming up and down the smooth bared skin of each other's backs. Amy glanced at him sideways and pressed closer to Carey, their breasts rubbing against each other. She had never been with a woman before and was finding the whole idea of doing this in front of him...FOR him...an incredible turn on. 

He watched at the girls continued to explore each other. Carey was clearly the more aggressive of the two girls, but Amy continued to get more into what she was doing by the second. When Carey's mouth finally found Amy's nipple, the purest whimper of sheer pleasure escaped Amy's lips. As Carey sucked at her chest, Amy looked at him. He was watching...intently. 

"Do you like what you're seeing Mr. Moore?" she asked him, fighting the words out through over her urge to simply melt into what Carey was doing.

"Of course I do."

"So can I count on that C now?"

He got up from behind the desk. Amy made sure to soak in the view of every inch of his cock pressing against the denim as he made his way around to the front of the desk. He was so close to them now that she could smell his scent, and the combination of this and Carey's mouth was bringing her closer to orgasm than she thought possible. She bit down on her lower lip and allowed her eyes to close so she could focus on her other senses.

"I don't know Amy," she heard him say, "I'm abandoning every ounce of integrity I have here tonight, so you'd better believe I'm going to make you work for every letter, plus, and minus you want."

Her heart began to beat faster with both terror and anticipation.

"You think you've earned a C for a little nuzzling here in front of me? I could go home and see more than that on late-night Cinemax. Start with both of you getting naked and I'll bump you up to a D+. But for a C........"

She heard the sound of a zipper being undone. When she allowed her eyes to open, he was leaning against the edge of the desk, totally naked, his cock standing straight up at attention. She gasped when she finally got a look at what she'd fantasized about all semester, and a mini-orgasm shook through her body."

"For a C, you're gonna have to do a little more."

Amy looked at Carey, and they both shared a wicked grin as they stood up together. Carey unzipped Amy's jeans, sliding her hands over her hips and pulling them down slowly. She knelt down in front of Amy and kissed her damp panties, running her tongue over the spot covering her clit. Amy moaned and spread her legs more, rubbing her breasts and pinching her hard nipples. 

Carey pressed Amy back onto the desk, moving her body until she lay in front of the professor. She couldn't believe how tall and muscular he looked as she stared up at him, or how his cock just seemed to tower over her. Carey tugged her own jeans down and then slid off her thong, then helped Amy out of hers, allowing him to finally see all of what would soon be his. Carey was clean-shaven; Amy had neatly clipped her bush into a small rectangle just above shaved pussy lips. The sight of the sweet, succulent girls made him even harder, and his cock jerked a little as the first drop of pre-cum glistened at the tip.

Amy opened her lips and gently slid out her tongue, touching the very tip of his hardened cock. He jumped a bit at the delicate touch causing him to pull ever so slightly away, and leaving a tantalizing stream as the pre-cum they'd coaxed from him bridged the gap from his cock to her mouth. She smiled at the sensation she'd given him, then reached out her hand and grasped his silky smooth hard shaft at the base, tugging him closer to her. She lapped at it with her soft tongue, moaning as Carey began licking her as well. For a moment, the only sounds were the wet slurping sounds emerging from the girl's mouths as they both enjoyed their treats. Carey sucked and nibbled on Amy's clit making her body writhe, all the while pleasuring herself by sliding two fingers in and out of her own wet little pussy. Amy sucked her teacher into her mouth, wrapping her tongue around his cock as she pulled him in. She spread her legs for Carey as wide as she could, then grabbed him by his ass, inviting him into her mouth until she had swallowed him whole. His head fell back in pleasure as he felt himself sliding down the redhead's throat, and he allowed Amy to set the rhythm of him fucking her mouth, guiding him with her hands on his ass. Carey, enjoying watching her friend emerge from her shell, slid her two pre-moistened fingers into Amy as she continued to nibble at her now throbbing clit. 

Amy found herself moaning as she sucked him, her mind reeling from the feeling of Carey eating her out and finally having her lips wrapped around the professor. Carey fingered her faster, lapping harder at her clit, until with a muffled shriek she came on Carey's face and fingers. Carey sucked harder on her pussy and clit, taking in every bit. He showed her no mercy either as he grabbed Amy's face, thrusting into her mouth gently but fast. She squealed around her mouthful and held onto him, sucking and licking as fast as she could. He slowed and then pulled out, rubbing his full length along her cheek, leaving a wet trail in its wake. 

When she'd finally caught her breath, Amy sat up and rolled over onto her hands and knees on his desk, looking at him through the tangles of her red hair. She placed one hand of the hard, flat muscles of his chest and pushed him gently backward, clearing some space for her to stand. She then climbed off the desk, motioning for Carey to get on. 

She eased Carey onto her back, and then bent over in front of the professor, sticking her bottom out towards him. Amy began licking and kissing Carey's wet labia, reveling in her first taste of another woman. It was different then she expected. Not at all as foul as her inhibitions had always led her to believe. Instead, there was almost a sweetness to the sensation...a warmth. When she found Carey's clit, she heard a pleasure-filled gasp come from her roommate. As her own arousal began to build again, she spread her legs a bit and rubbed herself with her fingers. She made sure he knew she hadn't forgotten he was watching to, wiggling her bottom at him a bit and plunging her fingers into her aching pussy, every once in a while making sure to show him the signs of her arousal on her fingers. He stroked himself a bit as he watched the tableau in front of him. Never had he ever thought that this would be happening to him, especially with two of his students.

Amy's fingers plunged deep into Carey. When she finally lifted her legs up onto her shoulders, she heightened the sensation by licking her with wide licks up and down her slit. Carey squirmed and squealed with pleasure. Amy glanced back at him to see if he was enjoying the show. When she saw his pleased smile, a wicked thought came into her head. 

Once again, Amy's slid her fingers as far as they would go into her friend's tight pussy. For a moment, she gently massaged her, making sure her fingers hit where Carey was most sensitive. She knew she'd found the spot when a loud moan escaped from the curvy brunette. Carey became instantly wetter on Amy's fingers, and she could feel every muscle inside her grab onto her finger as she stroked. Amy knew she had her just as she wanted her.

Amy slowly slid her fingers from Carey's pussy, making sure to bring along a wet trail of her wetness. Slowly, deliberately, she coated Carey's pussy until she was wet and slick. Then, she brought that slickness down over to the rim of Carey's ass, rubbing around the tight little hole until it permitted her to slowly slide her finger into it.. Carey let out a little "oh!" and sighed as Amy moved it gently in and out, before matching the rhythm with her thumb into Carey's pussy. Once Amy's tongue touched Carey's swollen clit, she knew it wouldn't take long. She kept kissing and sucking, moving her fingers faster and faster, until Carey arched her back and cried out in orgasm. The excitement of making her friend cum, of finding her face covered in Carey's sweet juices turned Amy on more than she'd ever expected. 

Carey sat up and looked at her redheaded friend, almost dumbfounded.

"That was amazing!" she told her, before kissing Amy, making sure to licking her own cum off of Amy's face. 

That was all Amy needed to push her towards taking the final step with the man she'd lusted after for a semester.

Amy moved to him and knelt in front of him, looking up at him through her now very tussled hair. She grasped his hot shaft in her hands and began to firmly stroke him from tip to balls. With the remnants of Carey still on her fingers she easily glided over the taut skin of his cock, and the sensation made him groan in pleasure. Her lips took him in as she sucked him all the way into her mouth, moaning at mingled taste Carey's and his excitement. Carey climbed down and joined her on the floor in front of him, grasping at his balls and squeezing gently. They traded off sucking and licking him, their tongues tangling over him, until he stopped them both by pushing them away. Panting, they sat back and looked at him, and with the most innocent face she could produce Amy asked, "Have I earned that C yet, Mr. Moore?"

It took him a moment to regain his composure. He wasn't kidding earlier when he had said he was abandoning his integrity by allowing these two students to trade sex for a grade. But the truth was it was hard to come to teach a class day after day and not fantasize about how it would be to get his hands on some of the gorgeous coeds that paraded around in front of him every day. 

"That, ladies, was an excellent job! Yes, you've earned your C."

Amy and Carrie both let out a small, contented smile.

"So," he continued, "Are you satisfied with your grade now that you know you won't be repeating the class?"

In any other time or place, Amy would have certainly taken the grade and run. But her lust had taken over, and there was no way she was stopping now.

"Actually," she said, "I was thinking that we might try to go a little higher. I've got my GPA to consider here, and there's no way I want to let a C blow my average. I was thinking maybe I'd like a higher grade still."

Carrie looked at her with a bit of surprised look on her face. She really didn't mind the prospect of another round with her friend and the teacher, but Amy had always been the conservative, reserved one. To hear her offering herself out so readily was very out of character for her straight-laced friend. She realized that the others were looking at her, wondering if she was willing to continue.

"You think I'm backing out now?" she asked. "This is the most fun I've had in weeks!!"

Much to his surprise, he was glad to hear this. He realized that the guilt of what he was doing was fading quickly when looking at the prospect of the two girls easing the throbbing he was feeling between his legs.

Carrie and Amy both sat on the edge of the desk in front of him. Amy took his cock in her hand and slowly began to stroke it while Carrie played gently with his balls.

"So Mr. Moore," Amy began, "I'm finding your tutoring very educational tonight. What would it take for me to earn a B?"

He realized that the time to have his way with the girls was now. They may have coerced him into this situation, but now it was time for him to take control.

"Both of you, up on the desk," he ordered. They were happy to comply. "I want you next to each other on your hands and knees, asses in the air for me." 

Both girls assumed the position he'd requested, and as the peered over their shoulders back at them, the wiggled their asses teasingly at him.

"Like this?" Carey asked seductively.

He didn't need to be asked twice. Without hesitation, he plunged his cock into Amy's dripping pussy, causing her to let out a squeal of ecstasy. She couldn't believe how big and hard his cock felt as it thrust into her over and over. 

Carey watched as her friend's body rocked in synch to his thrusts. Her heart was pounding, knowing that soon it would be her doing the same thing. She didn't have to wait long before he moved from Amy over to her. When he penetrated her, all she could do was gasp in delight. And as he fucked her, all she could do was whimper something that sounded like "Oh my god! Oh my god!" again and again. 

He moved back and forth between them, fucking Amy, then Carey. Each time he switched girls his thrusts became a bit harder and faster. Every now and then, he'd give one of their asses a good firm spank, and it was probably debatable between the girls as to who it turned on more when he did. 

He moved back to Amy, filling her pussy with his cock. Carey reached over and pinched her nipples lightly between her fingers as then began to gently kiss her. Amy could feel the orgasm building inside of her. She let out a scream, and suddenly for the first time in her life, a huge gush escaped her as she came. The feeling for him was incredible as her warmth and wetness covered him, and there was no way he was pulling from her to let it out. He continued to thrust into her hard, until his body, the floor, and everything on his desk was soaked with Amy's pleasure. Finally, she slumped forward onto the desk, completely satisfied and completely drained. 

Amy lay on the desk, her pussy still twitching, her mind blown at the rapture he had given her. She had never imagined that she could ever feel this way; her secret masturbatory fantasies never ending with the eruption he'd triggered, and never with the lingering aftershocks that continued to thrill her entire body. 

He moved behind Carey, his cock still dripping from his conquest of Amy. 

"Your turn," he said, his voice seductive yet filled with lust.

He teased her pussy with his wet hard cock, smacking her with it every couple of breaths. Amy rolled over onto her back and slid closer to Carey, kissing her and fondling her breasts. As he watched them play he could feel the urges in him building, and he couldn't wait to offer himself some relief by plunging into Carey's wet, inviting hole.

He plunged into Carey, reaching around to play with her hard little clit. Soon, the sounds of her pleasure filled the room.

"Oh my god!! Yes!! Please!! Fuck me harder!!"

Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if he should be concerned about anyone walking past the office. Surely there was no way they'd miss what was going on behind the closed door. All his concerns were quickly put aside when Carey grabbed him by the wrist and said, "Please fuck me Robert! I want you to make me cum!" 

He was more than happy to give her what she was asking for. For a moment, he teased the nub of her clit with the tip of his cock. Then he plunged into her once again, sliding into her until she had taken his entire length. Carey squealed and wiggled around his cock, clearly enjoying every inch the teacher had to offer. When they'd worked up a good rhythm together, Carey's hand reached down between Amy's legs to play with her still wet pussy as she lay there next to her. He noticed and joined in with Carey while he fucked her; both of them pushing their fingers into Amy's already plundered body and rubbing her along her soaking wet mound. Amy moaned and thrust her hips up, inviting them deep into her body. 

Wanting more, Amy maneuvered herself around until she was on her back under Carey, watching his cock pumping in and out of her. Carey eagerly dipped her head and started licking her, and she moved to lap at Carey's clit. Suddenly the two girls found themselves in an amazing 69, Amy's head getting bumped by his thighs as he slammed repeatedly into Carey. She reached up and grasped his shaft at the base, feeling the blood pumping and rushing in his cock. He moaned and thrust harder, then slowed down a bit, wanting to make this last for as long as possible.




Pass or Fail



The next thing he knew, Amy's fingers were playing with him, coaxing him from Carey. He allowed her to take his cock from her friend's pussy so that she could give it several slow sucks before she placed it back deep into Carey's waiting hole. A few thrusts later, she did it again, and then again. Each time she'd place him back into her, Carey would give a squeal muffled only by the fact that her mouth would not let go of Amy's swollen clit, and the vibrations that ran through Amy's body quickly revived her excitement level.

Once again, Amy took him from Carey and gave him slow attention. When she released him this time, she peered up between Carey's legs to him.

"Have we earned me an A yet?" she asked him.

"Oh no," he replied. He tried to look in control, but the sight and the feel of his cock waiting in Amy's hand was almost too much to take. "You've got a B right now. But for an A?? For an A you're going to have to do something amazing to me. Hell, I've had sex before, so just making me cum will only get you a B+. For an A, you're gonna have to make this something special!"

Amy crawled out from under Carey and staddled his leg. She kissed him hard while rubbing her cum-slick pussy on him, making sure there was no doubt he would understand just how much she wanted him again. Carey turned around to watch them, leaning back to lightly finger herself. When Amy was good and ready, she turned around so that her ass was once again facing him. She pulled Carey close to her, looked back at him over her shoulder, and said in a breathless voice, "Fuck me in the ass, Mr. Moore? Please fuck me hard?" 

He didn't to be asked twice. As he slicked up his cock with Amy's wetness, he slid one finger into her tight little bottom, pumping lightly until she began to relax. When she was ready, he added another finger, making sure she was prepared for what he was going to do to her. There was no fear and no hesitation in the redhead though. She moaned and buried her face into Carey's pussy, licking her like a woman possessed, wanting and waiting for him to have his way with her. 

Carey encouraged him with breathless gasps. 

"Come on, professor! Stick that hard cock into her ass! Make her scream!"

He slid in a third finger, causing Amy to squeal at the stretching. He slid his cock back into her dripping pussy to make sure he was good and ready for her, and as he pumped he felt her ass relaxing even more. 

Finally, he felt she was ready. He removed his fingers and gently replaced them with the tip of his cock. She cried out, partly from pain but mostly from pleasure as he penetrated her for the first time. As she got used to the sensation, she slowly moved back against him, allowing more of him to slip inside. 

Carey crawled out from under Amy and slowly came up behind him, rubbing her breasts against his back and grasping at his ass with her hands. He began to slowly pump in and out of Amy's tight ass, going a bit deeper with each slow thrust, biting his lip at the amazing tightness surrounding his raging hard on. 

Carey smacked him on the ass, making him jump and push in much deeper. Amy wiggled again, her breath coming out in heavy pants, and she whispered, "Oh god! Yes! More! Please give me more!" 

Carey slapped him again, prompting him to drive in deeper. She continued doing this until his balls were pressed firmly up against her now sopping wet pussy. 

Carey came back around and knelt down between Amy's legs. The moment her tongue touched Amy's clit, Amy began to uncontrollably shudder and moan. Her excitement caused her to tighten around his cock, and he moaned louder, feeling his own orgasm coming soon.

Carey reached up from below and gently squeezed his balls as he thrust harder and faster into Amy. Amy's fingernails raked at the desk as he fucked her virgin ass. Never had she experienced anything like this. Once the initial pain gave way to pure pleasure, she completely gave over to the feeling, another huge orgasm building up with his every deep thrust. She screamed out loudly as she came with a second huge gush, flooding Carey's mouth and his body with her orgasm. He could feel his orgasm coming as well, and he quickly pulled out of Amy and pointed to the floor. 

"On your knees! Both of you!" he panted, stroking his slick cock. Carey and Amy knelt together, and looked up at him expectantly. 

He looked down at the anxious, innocent looks on the two vixens who had seduced him into this and stroked himself faster until a huge orgasm began to overtake him. The first stream flew through the air and landed on Amy's face, stretching from her eyes to her cheek. He made sure Carey got the same treatment, doing his best to satisfy his own lust and cover both girls thoroughly. His orgasm went on and on, repeatedly sending long, hot spurts flying towards both of the girls. When he finally was finished, both of them were still looking up at him, little smiles on their cum-covered faces. 

He looked at the fantasy-come-true that kneeled down in front of him. In a stern voice, he commanded, "Now, lick each other clean...slowly. I want to hear sounds of delight as you enjoy what I gave you." 

Amy and Carey wrapped their arms around each other and kissed deeply. He watched an enjoyed as his cum was smeared across the faces of the girls as they rubbed together. Then, they began to take turns licking their treat off of each other. As as he'd requested, they made sure to let him know how much they were genuinely enjoying it.

"Mmmm! Oh Robert!! Your cum tastes so good!" Carey sighed as her tongue ran the length of Amy's cheek. Amy chimed in as well when it was her turn to clean off her friend.

"Oh yeah Baby! I love the warm feeling as it slides down my throat!" 

When they were finally finished, Amy looked up at her professor, her face still slick and her red hair in damp tangles clinging to her neck. 

"So, professor Moore, do I get my A?"

All he could do was grin as he sat down on the edge of the desk. 

"Ladies, you've done a remarkable job earning extra credit tonight," he said. "Amy, I think you can rest assured that your GPA will be safe and you'll be moving on from my class with no problem."

The two girls smiled proudly at the compliment.

"Now," he said as he started to straighten up his desk, "If you'll both excuse me, I have some work I need to finish up." He motioned towards the door as he said this, as if casually dismissing the girls at the end of a class.

"Yes Sir," Amy replied. And the two girls scooped up their clothes and quietly exited his office into the empty hallway outside.

The following day was exam day. At the end of the test, Amy picked up her paper and walked it to the front of the lecture hall where he was seated at a small desk. She smiled at him as she placed it down, and he gave her a very subtle, knowing nod of his head.

One by one, the students finished their exams, deposited them on his desk, and exited the room, off to enjoy their vacations. As the room emptied, he began sorting through his briefcase, organizing the exams so he could begin grading them. Suddenly, a voice interrupted his train of thought.

"Mr. Moore?"

He looked up to find one of his students waiting at the desk.

"Yes...Miss......Robertes, I think it is?"

The pretty blonde girl smiled; impressed that he knew her name from the sea of anonymous students in the large lecture hall.

"Mr. Moore? I don't think I did that well on my exam," she said.

"Well, I guess we'll find out after I grade them," he answered.

She started to walk away, then stopped and turned around.

"I was wondering..." she began, but then paused. Just as he thought she had changed her mind, she continued. 

"I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help bring up my grade on the exam. Maybe some extra credit or something?"

"I'm sorry Miss Robertes," he answered. "The class is officially over. You should have come by to see me before the exam for some assistance."

The blonde smiled.

"It's funny," she said, a mischievous gleam in her eye, "I had that very thought last night. So I walked across campus to your office. You seemed...busy. So I didn't knock."

He looked at her without blinking as the moment stretched into minutes. Finally, her grin faded a bit. She turned around and started for the exit, saying over her shoulder, "I'll be there tonight around 7:00, OK Professor?" 

Inwardly, he smiled as he watched her tight little ass in her jeans walk out the door, before returning to gathering up his papers. 

"Tonight indeed."



Pass the Body



* * * * *

Copyright Oggbashan October 2006

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

* * * * *

Years ago, a Halloween tradition used to be a party game called 'Pass the Body'.

A group would sit in a circle preferably in the dark or by dim firelight. The narrator would start telling the story about some horrific murder and at stages through the story would pass the 'evidence' around the circle for the group to feel.

It might start with 'This is the hammer that rendered the victim unconscious. Feel the crack on the head that matches the dent in the skull'. It would progress through more and more gruesome objects to 'This is the murderer's hand chopped off by the victim's mother as he reached out to attack her' (a rubber glove stuffed with ice) and 'This is the eye plucked from the victim's head' (a sheep's eye from the butcher) and 'This is the murderer's heart cut out by the avenger' (a pig's heart again from the butcher).

Feeling these grisly objects set the evening going for an exchange of ghost and horror stories. However this traditional game had almost been forgotten locally when we arrived at Alison's house for her Halloween Party. We stood around in the dining room with garishly coloured drinks as the others arrived. When all were present Alison announced that we would start with a game of 'Pass the Body' in the living room.

Most of us knew what was coming even if we hadn't participated for years. Those who didn't know were given whispered explanations as we moved through into the living room. Each chair was labelled with a guest's name. Alison stood beside a tall screen at one end of a U-shaped arrangement of chairs and settees. 

"Elaine, could you sit at this end, collect all the objects and pile them up beside you."

"Of course, Alison."

Elaine is Alison best friend and has been since they started school as infants.

"Where's Josh?" someone asked.

"He'll be here later," Alison replied. "He has an important part in this evening's entertainment. Are we ready?"

There were nods of agreement.

"Then turn off the lights and I'll begin. This time the story will be far more personal than these games usually are. Josh and I thought it would add something..."

There was a faint glow behind the screen, just enough for Alison to see what items she was picking up, but placed close to the screen so that we couldn't even see the silhouettes.

"As you all know, Josh and I have been married, happily married, for over ten years with very few disagreements between us. Such disputes as there were seemed minor and easily sorted. Then, one day when I was unpacking Josh's suitcase after he had returned from a conference I found a pair of ladies silk knickers tucked deep into the bottom of a pocket. These knickers."

Alison passed the knickers to the first person, who felt them in the dark, then passed them around to reach Elaine. Elaine put the knickers down beside her.

"They weren't MY knickers," Alison said, "so I wondered what sort of conference Josh had been attending. I made some discreet enquiries. The conference was genuine. He had been there. He hadn't been seen with any woman and in fact he had been so busy that he wouldn't have had time for anything not related to work. The Vice-President of Josh's company had used him as a gofer all week. So whose knickers were they and how had they got into Josh's case?

"I was puzzled. I trusted Josh. A loose pair of knickers wasn't going to damage my marriage. He might have bought them for me and forgotten to give them – except that they were two sizes too large and obviously not new. I tried to push those knickers to the back of my mind but they wouldn't stay there. I watched and waited.

"I found some hairs on his suit. Long blonde hairs. I can't pass them round. They were too fine to feel. I thought I recognised those hairs. Days later I managed to pick one off the lady's jacket. It matched. It still didn't fit. She was here when Josh was at the conference. The knickers wouldn't fit her either. Mine would. Hers would fit me. Were there two women Josh was involved with? 

"As I was moving Josh's overcoat in the hall cupboard I detected a perfume that wasn't mine. I lifted the coat to my nose. I could recognise the perfume. Here it is."

Alison passed a piece of cloth. We sniffed it. We could recognise the perfume too. It was heavy and exotic, too exotic for use at work. The impression was a perfume to be worn for a grand occasion.

"Do you recognise it? Not the manufacturer or the name but as a perfume that someone you know would or does wear? No? I thought not. It's not our sort of thing. It is too dramatic and obviously femme fatale and none of us are that, are we? We are all suburban housewives and their husbands, not Ingrid Bergmans. It certainly doesn't fit with the long blonde hair, nor with the large silk knickers. So what was I dealing with? Three women?"

Alison's voice rose on the last two words. There was a touch of hysteria in it.

"That was the situation a few weeks ago. I had confusing indications that Josh might be playing around with up to three women, maybe more. Perhaps none of you knew that we enjoyed a little mutual bondage to liven up our lovemaking? It doesn't matter whether you knew or not. The next time it was my turn to tie Josh up I tied him really securely. Why? Because he had made a bad mistake. The previous time he had made love to me, at the climax he had called me a different name. Not a different pet name, but a different woman's name. I had noticed his slip and said nothing, nothing at all, until the time I had him totally helpless.

Then I asked, quietly and ever-so-patiently, what that woman meant to him. He replied that she was just a friend. I told him that I didn't believe him. He protested until I stuffed those large silk knickers into his mouth and tied them there with a scarf saturated in that perfume. He was still protesting when I snipped his little finger off with a pair of tinsnips. Here is that finger."

Alison passed a small Tupperware container around. In it was something about the length of a small sausage but with harder parts in it.

"I bandaged where his little finger had been and then asked again. What did that woman mean to him and why had he said her name when making love to me? I told him I would ungag him if he wanted to answer. He shook his head. He wouldn't answer. I went to the kitchen and returned with an ice-cream scoop. It is ideal for removing eyes, if you ever want to remove eyes. I did. Both of them. Here they are."

She passed another Tupperware container with two objects rolling squelchily around at the bottom. Most of us wouldn't touch them.

"I asked about the blonde hairs. Were they hers? I named the woman. He confirmed by nodding blindly. Had he made love to her? He shook his head. I used the tinsnips to cut off his ears and nose. Here you are..."

Some of us felt that the story was getting too realistic. The objects felt exactly like Alison's descriptions.

"The knickers? I asked about the knickers. Only one person I know wears knickers of that size, and wears them with an air. She is eminently feminine, rounded, motherly and devastatingly sexy. You all know who I mean but Josh wouldn't confirm so the tinsnips cut off his manhood. It doesn't seem very much just sitting in a plastic container but I had enjoyed it many times and had been very satisfied with it's owner's performance. Never again."

Alison sighed. The container seemed to hold a penis.

"Now we are close to the end of our little game. No more articles for you to guess whether I'm lying as I pass scraps from the butcher or to fear that I'm telling the truth. The explanation is in this envelope I give to Elaine. She should open it when the lights go on."

Alison stepped back behind the screen. There was a flash and a bang. Someone leapt for the light switch. Alison had put a shotgun in her mouth and pulled the trigger.

"Elaine!" someone shouted. "What's in the envelope?"

Elaine opened it carefully. There was a short note.

"Josh finally told me that the knickers, the hairs and the perfume were a boys' room joke from his colleagues at work. They did that sort of thing to each other. The name he had said while making love? That was his only sin. He had always fancied you, Elaine, and once, just once his imagination ran away with him. Now both of us are dead for a sick joke and an unfulfilled love. Alison."



Pass The Dark Meat



Sarah was seated at the dining room table between her brother and cousin, shoulders slumped, napkin folded in her lap. She was nursing a grade-A hangover and trying her best not to spoil Thanksgiving dinner. 

"Shall we say Grace?" her grandfather asked from the head of the table. 

No one said anything. The first person to agree would get the honors. Sarah looked at her older brother who gave her an elbow. 

"How about you, Sarah?" her grandfather said. "Now that you're in college, we hardly get to see you. Why don't you say Grace and show us how smart you are?"

"Well... " she began, but stopped herself. Her stomach rumbled and she burped-up a mouthful of malt-liquor. She forced herself to swallow it. The act of swallowing made her think of all the cock she had sucked the night before, how Tyrell and Derrick and the other black boys on the university basketball team lined-up outside Bernard's bedroom like a pack of wolves. 

Her father crossed his arms and looked at her sympathetically. "Goodness, honey, are you all right?"

"I'm fine. "

"Did something go down the wrong pipe?" her mother asked. 

"No, it's just the eggs I had this morning before dad came and picked me up. "

"Godforsaken university food," her grandfather cut in. Then: "Before we say our prayers, Sarah, can you pass the dark meat?" 

She looked at her grandfather, the double entendre in his words unintentional yet alarming; for a moment she wondered if he knew about the gangbang. 

"Just for the record," Sarah said, passing the plate of turkey, "I stayed in my dorm last night. I didn't even see Bernard. " 

Her grandfather narrowed his eyes. "Bernard? Who is Bernard, honey?"

"Just a boy I met," Sarah said. "A nice Irish boy who lives down the hall... "

But this was a lie. Bernard was not Irish, no; he was a two-hundred-and-five pound dark-as-tar Black man. He had twisted, greasy cornrows and a long veiny shlonger. Sarah knew the size of his cock (even before last night's gangbang), because she had seen it. Seen it one day on the rec basketball courts when one of Bernard's buddies, just for a joke, yanked his Chicago Bulls sweatpants down to his ankles. The first thing Sarah thought was: Jesus Christ, what a BIG COCK. The second thing she thought was: I want it IN ME. 

She blocked out her family and the uninviting smell of turkey and cranberry sauce, and let her mind go back 12 hours, back to 3:30 AM, back to the wild sex she was having with Bernard. He was fucking her on his bed, fucking her so hard her little white shaved pussy was starting to get diaper rash. 

"Ooo," she said, and pushed at Bernard's hips. 

"What's the matter, baby?"

"I'm starting to dry out. "

"Here," Bernard said, adjusting his position on top of her. "I'll go slow until you get back into it. "

But Sarah was too dry, and it was going to take a little while for her to recover. To make-up for the delay, she pulled Bernard's cock out of her pussy and started sucking it. 

"Yeah baby," Bernard said, running his dark fingers through her blond hair. "Like that. Suck my cock until--"

There was a knock at the bedroom door. Bernard jerked around, pulling his prick from Sarah's mouth with a pop. "Who is it?"

"It's Tyrell, nigga. What are you doing in there?"

"I'm busy. Come back in a little while. "

"You should tell Tyrell to come in," Sarah said to Bernard, her left hand rubbing her clit. 

"What? Why?"

"So I can do both of you. "

"At the same time?"

"Sure, if you don't mind... "

Bernard hopped off the bed and quickly opened the door. Tyrell came inside and saw Sarah naked on the bed. "Oh, shit. Are you running a train on this bitch?"

"She ain't a bitch," Bernard said. "Her name's Sarah. "

"Oh, my fault. " Then, to Sarah, Tyrell said, "Hi. My name's Tyrell. "

Sarah got up from the bed and shook his hand. "Hi. I'm Sarah. "

Bernard walked over to Sarah and instructed her to get on her hands-and-knees. She did. He told her to raise her sweet white rump in the air. She did. Bernard spread her ass cheeks with his thumbs and began licking her little brown hole. 

"You ever eat ass before Tyrell?" Bernard said suddenly. 

Tyrell nodded. "Naw. I ain't into that crazy shit. That stuff's for white people. " 

"You ever fuck a chick up the ass?"

"Nope. "

Sarah was getting wet again. Party because she was in the room with two black guys, partly because the words "ass fuck" got her hot as hell; it was safe to say she hoped she would get her butt fucked by Bernard or Tyrell or both. 

Bernard was asking Sarah a question. 

"What?" Sarah said. 

"I said, have you ever been fucked up your butt, baby?"

"No. I masturbate anally, but I've never got fucked up the ass before. "

"You wanna try it?"

"Sure. " 

Bernard asked Tyrell to throw him the tube of hand lotion resting on his chest-of-drawers. Tyrell did. Bernard took the tube and squirted a pile of creamy white lotion in the crack of Sarah's ass. He used his two middle fingers to rub it around. He took the tube and squirted another pile of lotion on his rock hard dick. He stroked himself slowly. 

Tyrell stood watching, eyes bugging out of his head on springs. 

Bernard took his prick and pressed it against Sarah's slick brown ring. His head slid in and Sarah moaned. 

"Am I hurting you, baby?" Bernard asked. 

"No," Sarah said. "Just go slow. "

Bernard said that he would. He made an effort to work his massive black prick slowly into her little white ass. After a minute or so he was halfway in. 

"How does that feel?" he asked Sarah. 

"Good," she said. 

He kept going. Soon he was three-quarters of the way in (about six inches deep), and Bernard knew it was time to start fucking her. He pushed forward, then withdrew. Forward, then withdrew. 

Tyrell had come to the edge of the bed to get a closer look. Yes, Bernard was fucking this white girl's ass. This 19-year-old hot-as-balls white girl's ass. 

Sarah was starting to moan. "Oh, that feels so good," she said, grinding her ass against Bernard's cock. Bernard's rhythm had picked up. He was fucking her hard now, deep and hard; all nine inches were going up her ass. 

Sarah reached her left hand between her legs and started fingering her clit. She had become a soaking mess. She also noticed that the room was starting to stink like her pussy and her ass; which turned her on even more, of course. 

She had a sudden urge to suck a cock while she was getting drilled in her ass. She looked up at Tyrell who had unconsciously begun to pant as he watched her and Bernard. 

"Stick your cock in my mouth," she said to Tyrell bluntly. 

Tyrell didn't answer. He wasn't sure if she was serious or not. 

"What you wait'n for, bro?" Bernard said to his buddy. "Get in on the action. "

Tyrell finally did. 

He walked to the edge of the bed to Sarah. He pulled his jeans and boxers to his knees. His cock was already half hard. Sarah snatched it with amazing quickness and stuffed it in her hungry mouth. She sucked on it like there was no tomorrow. 

"Yeah," Bernard said. "Suck his cock while I fuck your ass. "

Bernard pounded her tight white ass. Sarah's mouth jarred on Tyrell's cock over each thrust. She was still fingering her pussy with her left hand. The whole thing was hot as fuck. So hot, in fact, Tyrell was already about to blow his nut. 

"I'm about to come," Tyrell said, and made a contorted face. Sarah pulled her left hand off her clit and started jerking Tyrell off. A moment later he made a grunting noise, and a moment after that, Sarah had the chloride taste of Tyrell's cream in her nasty mouth. She gagged and swallowed, a long stand of jit hanging from her chin. 

"Motherfucker," Tyrell said, and pulled up his pants. He walked out of the room without saying goodbye. 

"I always knew Tyrell was a minute-man," Bernard said, wondering how he had lasted this long himself. 

Sarah giggled. "Minute-man, that's funny. " 

Tyrell's jit was still on Sarah's face. Bernard told Sarah it was there, but she did nothing about it; she liked wearing a black guy's load all over her face. 

She was coming again. Her left hand went back on her clit; she fingered it like a madwoman. She was moaning and panting like a dog. "Fuck my ass, fuck my ass," she said over and over. The orgasm jolted through her, and she held her breath. Her eyes bulged and veins popped in her neck. Bernard could feel her asshole contracting around his cock. The pressure was unbelievable. So great that his cock was held up her ass although he was trying to withdraw it. 

She moaned and finally let out her breath. Her face was flushed and a tear ran down the side of her face. 

"God, I love getting fucked up the ass," she said, but Bernard wasn't listening. He was the one who was coming now, and when Sarah craned her head to look at him, she saw Bernard pulling his long prick from her white round rump and shooting his load all over the gaping hole left in her backside. The hole stayed open for a good second or two, then closed like a small mouth. 

Sarah wiggled her fanny and said, "Hmmm. "

Bernard was catching his breath. The orgasm he had just had was the most intense of his entire life. 

"Fuckin-A," he said. "That was better than mac-and-cheese. "

Sarah agreed. But she was still buzzing and horny and ready for more. Outside the bedroom, Tyrell had spread the news of his good fortune, and now there was a line of drunk, black-ass mother fuckers at the door looking to get some white stink-stank. 

"Who's next?" Sarah's grandfather was saying. 

Sarah's eyes snapped clear. Now she was back at the dinner table with the rest of her family. 

"Who's next for what?" Sarah asked. 

"Who's next for a helping of the dark meat?"

"Not me," Sarah said. "I think I've had my fill of that. " 

"But you hardly ate anything, dear," her mother pointed out. 

"Yeah, I know. I'm not that hungry. May I be excused from the table now?"

"Sure. You go upstairs at get some rest. "

Sarah stood up from her chair and left the room. Another Thanksgiving had come and gone: Food; friends; and pointless conversation. 

She went upstairs and lay in her bed. She quickly fell asleep. As she slept she dreamed of the day's events, of cranberries and mashed potatoes, of black cocks and open assholes. 

And a cornucopia of jive turkeys.



Pass The Grapefruit



I hadn’t played this game since I was a kid. All I could remember of it was that I hated it then and was reluctant to get sucked into it now. Of course, that was before I noticed who was setting the game up. We had just hired this cute but short gal to be in charge of the group-home’s activities. I hadn’t really had a chance to look at her much less notice her. Now that I had paused from my work long enough to check her out, I liked what I saw. The spring in her step was matched by the bounce of her plentiful breasts whenever she moved. And she moved quickly and with assurance from one side of the room to the other trying to line up participants for this game she wanted them to try. Now she needed to demonstrate it with someone who knew how to play it.

“Could you help me out here?” she smiled and batted her eyes at me. I was a sucker for a pretty smile and she had a brilliant smile that lit up the room. “We need to show these stiffs how to pass a grapefruit, you know, without using our hands.” And there, tucked beneath her chin, just inches above her bosom was this huge Florida Grapefruit. “First team to pass one all the way down their line to the end person wins.” She was a good 6 inches shorter than my own 5 and a half feet so I had to bend down a little to try and neck-wrestle the citrus away from her. Playfully we twisted and turned and pressed chests together, all the while keeping our hands behind our backs.

“See how easy this is?” she explained. “Anyone can do it.” The only difficult part, for me anyway, was keeping my growing erection from revealing just how much I was enjoying the game. Our faces were inches apart; our chests were matted together. The tent in my pants was growing.

The demonstration over, the real match began and our team lost by a couple seconds, probably due to my own practiced ineptitude. I wanted to take my time and enjoy the eager, if slightly clumsy, ministrations that my Grapefruit passing partner and I were enjoying. Damn, was she flirting with me? I know I’m a few years older than her ripe and ready-just-out-of-college body is but she could just as easily have picked someone else near by to be the demonstrator. When we sat down at a meeting later that day she passed me a note when no one was looking that asked: “Do you enjoy staring at my breasts?”

I’m sure I turned a few shades redder when I read that because I had, in fact, been staring at those double DDs for most of the meeting. Before I could scribble a reply I felt a foot sneaking up the inside of my pants leg coming perilously close to Mr. Happy. 

That was how it started. I had been married for 15 years at this point and it seemed like my own sex life had ended 10 years ago. Even a little attention from a young cutie like Amy was enough to get the lead in my pencil sharp again. So, when she asked me if I wanted to go with the team for a few drinks after work, I didn’t need to think twice. We all downed three or four (two or three past my usual limit) and were giddily celebrating some arcane happening. Amy had been hit on by every guy in the bar by now and had even agreed to go for a “drive” with one of them. When they came back, the look on his face said that maybe she wasn’t drunk enough to have lost control. But it was my hand she was reaching for under the table now as she whispered that it was getting late and she wanted an escort to the now poorly lit parking lot and her car.

When we reached her car, it was my turn to get a little bolder. She had been clinging to my arm and held my hand tight in her own. I spun her around, bumping bellies in the process, and leaned down a little to taste her lips. Her lips parted in an instant and our tongues flicked against each others. I reached around her and hugged her close. She began to nibble on my tongue then on my lips then on my neck. Instinctively I reached with a free hand and tried to cover one of those ripe melons that balanced so precariously in her tight dress. More than a handful for sure, I thought, so I brought the other hand up to that same lucky breast and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

She looked up at me with a wanton look in her eye and slowly pulled me backwards into her car on top of her. Fortunately, we had been making out next to the open back door of her spacious sedan so, when we fell, we tumbled on top of each other in the back seat. By now I was fumbling with the buttons on the front of the dress to get a better shot at those ripe melons of hers. Her own hands were busily working my trouser zipper down while she fished Mr. Happy out from his hiding place. The lot was pretty empty at this time, most of the others had long ago gone home to husbands, wives, or lovers or to empty apartments. Two more buttons came undone and the dress parted down the front. She reached around behind herself and in a motion that seemed well practiced, unsnapped her bra letting their inhabitants tumble out. My smile must have looked pretty goofy because she actually had to ask me if I liked what I saw.

“They’re beautiful!” was all I could muster in verbal reply. She seemed happy to hear that and undid my belt. “Let me help with that.” I offered. I lowered my trousers and pulled the car door shut behind me. I turned back to her to see that she was now pulling her panties down as she propped herself against a pillow in the back seat. I joked to her that her breasts were bigger than the grapefruit we had played with earlier in the day. She seemed embarrassed by this but the red in her cheeks was soon matched by the auburn color of her wide aureoles which I lowered my head onto prior to taking each one in turn in my mouth. 

Her nipples quickly stiffened and I again used both hands on each breast to acquire support. I licked one, then the other; nibbled on one then on its twin. As she pulled her legs up on the seat, I made my way down to her honey pot, tracing a wet line from her left nipple to her waiting clit. I’d forgotten how wet a young woman could be. She was dripping already and as warm as a July evening in Florida. I sampled her precious liquors with my tongue and then put one then two fingers into her snatch and placed my thumb back on her clit. Her eyes seemed to roll back in her head as I applied some rotation on her sugar plum. “Don’t stop” she moaned. I certainly had no plan to stop now.

I withdrew my invading fingers and brought them to my mouth sucking them slowly and then putting them in her own mouth to taste. She sucked each finger dry then without a warning wrapped her arms behind my back and pulled me forward and into her with one thrust. It was like dipping my wicket into molten gold. I thought I would cum immediately but started pumping her as hard as I could anyway. The second thrust brought a muffled scream from her throat, the third and fourth thrusts brought forth something akin to a whimper.

The next few minutes disappeared in an ecstatic instant. I remember grabbing hold of her ass and letting loose with a grunt and a final push as I emptied a geyser of cum into her waiting orifice. She smiled at me and whispered: “Mmmm, that felt nice.” I just panted as I tried to catch my breath. I was more amazed than she was when I pulled out and realized I was still hard. “Looks like you could still use a little more lovin’,” she observed. 

With that she rolled over onto her stomach, tucked her knees into her armpits and reached back to spread her ass cheeks wide. I could barely believe my good fortune, but was in no mood to question it. I grasped my well lubricated dick in hand and placed it at the tender opening to her anus. She wriggled backwards a little, I gave a light shove and I was in balls deep. I couldn’t hear the words or were they moans that were escaping her lips. But the sound of my balls slapping against her ass cheeks would have drowned out her words anyway. 

God, she was tight, I remember thinking; but not too tight to enjoy. As I felt the second cumming approach, I pulled my dick out and stroked it a few times, finally spurting half a load onto her backside, the rest dribbled out in-between her ass cheeks. Then as quick as a gymnast, she spun around kissed me hard on the lips and told me she could hardly stand the thought of waiting a couple days to do me again. 

Would tomorrow be too soon for a return engagement? It would be Saturday and we wouldn’t see each other at work; maybe I could come by her apartment if I could get away for a while. Yeah, I think I can make the time...



Pass the Lady



My wife was quite reluctant as we had never even considered an adult game in the privacy of our own bedroom let alone in front of strangers. How did the office party get so raunchy?

Let me start from the beginning. My wife decided she wanted to go back to work as a real estate agent. She was excited to get out of the house and start working again; after all, our youngest was now in school and we could use the cash. She was working for about five weeks when she sold her first house. It had been slow and she was trying to find ways to pick up her business when one of her friends told her that she had to be more aggressive in getting clients by going to parties and making more contacts. So when she was invited to a party by one of her clients she decided we should go. 

Now, I am not one for parties but since I wanted to help her business get started I agreed to go. We got a babysitter and she dressed really sexy as her friend told her sex appeal works and she had plenty to show off. She is 36 years old but has the body of a 25 year old, 36C firm tits and nice thin waste that she works hard to stay firm. Her hips are a bit larger than when she was in her 20s and we married but still very nice at 36” and very firm. She loves to get attention from men, don’t all women. She is a bit of a flirt but very subtle and certainly not sluty in her demeanor. Still, I was surprised at how low cut the dress was that she picked out and that it only barely covered her ass. 

I asked her about it and she said that her friend Linda told her she would have to use her hot body to hook a few more customers if she wanted to make it in the competitive real estate business. I told her it was OK as long as she didn’t go too far, if you know what I mean? She laughed and said that goes without saying. I wasn’t too worried as I knew she had always been faithful to me and really didn’t like sex all that much anyway. I usually had to get her drunk or she wanted something from me for her to sleep with me.

Anyway, we arrived at the party and she didn’t know anyone, nor did I of course, but it seemed like a nice house in a nice neighborhood. Before long we were working through the room introducing ourselves and sipping our drinks, I had a beer and my wife was drinking a screwdriver. I was surprised when she ordered a screwdriver as she usually doesn’t drink hard liquor. The host was a friendly guy in his early 50s and his wife was a bit younger but very nice looking, in fact I was really surprised at the size and firmness of her tits for a gal in her 40s. She had a great body and wore a tight sweater that left little to the imagination about her nipples. I was immediately attracted to her.

As the night went on my wife mingled making new contacts and I mostly sat near the bar talking about sports with other guys that didn’t know anyone at the party. Every once in a while I would check out my wife to see what she was up to and she seemed to be laughing and gently touching guys every time I looked up. I had a pang of jealousy but I thought I should support her new job and allow her to develop contacts through a little innocent flirting. 

Pretty soon the crowd had dwindled down to about ten of us, the host and six other guys and three women including my wife. We were all sitting in the big living room chatting when all the sudden the host jumped up and said “let’s play a game”. I didn’t say anything but gave my wife a look like it is time to go home, she just smiled and said “what kind of game”. One of the single guys yelled out “pass the lady” and everyone laughed but me and my wife. I thought I had never heard of the game, was it a card game or what?

Well, we found out quickly when another one of the single guys chimed in “yes, lets play pass the lady, we have some fine ones here tonight”. It was then that I realized it was some sort of adult game and my imagination could only fathom where this was going, that is when I looked at my wife with a strong hard stare of it is time to go. I could tell she was reluctant to leave as she was sitting next to the host and he had been talking to her quite a bit that evening and much of it was about a house he was interested in buying. 

It was then that the host’s wife (Cindy) agreed it would be fun to play pass the lady, I thought if Cindy was in favor this couldn’t be too bad so I asked “how do you play the game? I have never played it before.” Cindy told us that we put chairs in a circle and start some music then the guys sit on the chairs and we take turns passing the women around on the guys laps when the music stops which ever woman is on your lap you get to take off a piece of her clothing. Since there were more guys, the ones without a lady would have to take off a piece of clothing if their lap was empty when the music stopped. 

By now I was imagining Cindy’s huge tits swaying in front of me while she sat on my lap and thoughts of my wife participating had totally slipped my mind. One of the other guys asked how do you win the game? Cindy said that the last girl with any clothes on won. My mind raced between my raging hard on and the jealousy that began to overcome me as I thought of my wife naked on a guy’s lap, with him fondling her body. 

I figured this was it, my wife would insist we leave but when the host grabbed her by the hand and said “come on Lisa you can start on my lap”. She quickly complied. Before you knew it Cindy was on my lap and two guys were without anyone on their laps. It was then that one of the guys agreed to play the music. As Cindy was squirming around in my lap I began to feel my cock go rock hard and was afraid she would say something, instead the music started and we started passing the ladies around.

It was so hot, before I knew it Lisa was being passed to me and I could see her nipples were hard and protruding like they do when she gets excited. She tried to stay on my lap as long as possible until someone said “come on no lingering keep passing”. Right then the music stopped and she had a huge sigh of relief on her face when she was still on my lap. I looked around the room and saw that Cindy was on the lap of the guy that suggested the game and he was pulling her sweater over her head exposing her mammoth tits in her lacy undersized bra. My cock jerked harder and Lisa turned back toward me and smiled, I knew then she must be drunk because she gets so jealous if I even looked at another girl. The guy to my left was without a gal so he pulled his pants down and sat there with a huge bulge in his underwear. I wondered why he chose his pants?

I reached down and pulled Lisa’s shoes off and I heard the guys say “no fair”. The other two women had their blouses taken off and there were three hot women just in their bra and my wife without shoes. The guys were pinching the ladies’ tits when the music started again. Lisa clung to me as if she had chickened out but it was too late, the guy next to me grabbed her and pulled her on to his lap, pinching her ass as he did. Around they went again, this time the music took much longer and I got a nice squeeze on Cindy’s tits as she came past me twice, that is when the music stopped again, this time Lisa was on the host’s lap and I had no one.

The host quickly pulled her dress up as she offered slight resistance, I knew if anyone could get it off of her it would be the host as she wanted his business really bad. Anyway, there she sat in her bra and panties trying to cover up, not knowing which part to cover. It was then that I noticed her panties were soaking wet and I knew she was really enjoying this. I looked quickly to Cindy before the music started again so I could see what clothing she lost and sure enough the guy next to me unsnapped her bra and her 40dds were flopping in the air for all of us to see. I couldn’t wait for her to end up on my lap again. I had forgotten to take off a piece of clothing until Cindy yelled “hey you have to strip since you don’t have a girl on your lap”. I took my shirt off and wished I had worn an undershirt that night.

I noticed as my wife got passed around she was the only one in her panties and the other ladies had their breast exposed. By now, each guy was taking his time passing the ladies. When Lisa came to my lap I gave her tits a nice squeeze and asked if she was enjoying herself, she just laughed and the guy to my left grabbed her. It was then I realized why he took his pants off, he had leaned back and as my wife was passed to him he rubbed her panty-clad pussy on his brief-covered cock. I couldn’t believe my eyes, there was my wife dry humping, if you could call it dry, this guy next to me, I didn’t know whether to let my jealousy rage or my lust. 

I didn’t have time to make a decision as next thing I know Cindy is on my lap and the music stopped. I was so hot I grabbed her tits and started to massage them when the host reminded me that I was to take off another piece of her clothing. I grabbed her skirt and pulled it down and let it drop to the floor. My hand got stuck under her ass as she sat back on my lap and I couldn’t believe the moisture in her panties. My fingers were right on her pussy and my cock was aching like it had never ached before. I looked around and saw Lisa’s bra pop off in the hands of the guy that was holding her. The host had no woman so he pulled his pants off and we could all see his ample hard on protruding through his fly of his underwear. 

As I sat there in total shock and lust as the music started back up again. I noticed that as Lisa went by the host made sure to rub his cock on her panty clad pussy as well, except his cock was still out of his underwear and I could see the head pushing into her pussy crevice as her panties were soaked and the only thing between his cock and pay dirt. He massaged her tits and slid his cock up and down her slit for about fifteen seconds before the next guy grabbed her off his lap. By this time I was fondling the breast of one of the other ladies, not as nice as my wife’s or Cindy’s but very nice still the same. Just as I passed her the music stopped and I was without a girl again, this time I quickly pulled down my pants and proudly let my erect cock jet out of my underwear, I always wear briefs and like our host my mushroomed head had snuck out of my fly. I was really looking forward to the next round as Cindy came by again I was get some rubbing of my own in. 

I looked over at Cindy and she was having her panty’s removed and so was Lisa by the guy that suggested we start the game, he was still fully clothed however as he had always got a girl. One of the ladies still had her panties and one of the other girls had her socks on so the game wasn’t technically over, which I rejoiced in the thought of three bare pussies being passed on my rock hard exposed cock. The music started up again and the first gal passed to me was the fourth girl I haven’t talked about yet, she was a bit overweight but still a nice plump ass and as she sat on my lap I felt my cock slip right into her pussy, I couldn’t believe the feeling. I don’t know how I managed to hit it but she dropped down about three inches onto my cock before I passed her to the next guy.

I looked down and there was my cock glistening with pussy juice and pre-cum. There was no girl next to me so I looked around the room to see what was happening and I could see the host had slid is cock in to my wife’s pussy and was bouncing her up and down while cupping her breast, I looked to the guy next to him to grab her and pull her off but he just sat there and watched. My wife’s eyes were closed and she had a huge grin on her face as he slid her up and down his shaft. I then looked to the left and there was Cindy dry humping the guy that still had his pants on with her tits swaying back and forth. I yelled “come on now lets keep passing” and Lisa slid off the host and landed on the next guys lap, he had pulled his pants and boxers down while Lisa was fucking the host so she landed square on his cock. Her pussy swallowed up his member just as Cindy was passed to my lap.

The moment I was waiting for Cindy with her bare pussy about to sit on my cock. I gently laid her on my lap but missed her pussy, my cock slid up her clit and between her legs as she let out a sigh. She squeezed hard and I lifted her again to try and land it knowing that the guy next to me wanted his chance. As she fell on to my lap the second time it was a bulls eye right into her gaping pussy. I closed my eyes and grabbed her tits and bounced her up and down when suddenly I realized the music had stopped. I was ecstatic that I got to keep her on my lap while looked for another piece of clothing to take off of her. It was then I realized she was completely naked so I just started bouncing her up and down my cock as quick as I could, I was afraid someone would call an end to the game as we had really gotten out hand. 

It was then I saw that Lisa was on no longer on the host’s lap he had laid her down on the carpet and was mounting her missionary style. I was really surprised to see the size of his cock when he stood up, it was at least 8-9” and as thick as a coke can. Lisa was moaning and lifting her hips off the ground to meet every thrust. I turned my attention back to Cindy as she was still riding my cock for all its worth, the smell of sex and the feeling of her tight pussy on my cock was too much, I knew I was about to cum when I lifted her off me to try to savor it a bit longer. I looked around and saw everyone had paired up except the guy playing music and he was pulling his pants down and kneeling next to my wife with his cock hanging in her face. She grabbed his hips and shoved his cock in her mouth and started sucking and moaning as the host fucked her senseless. 

There was my proper almost prudish wife lying on the floor in a stranger’s house sucking a stranger’s cock and being fucked by a stranger. What was even more powerful was there I was with this really hot woman in my arms about to slide her pussy back on to my rock hard cock. Except she missed and as she fell my cock was impaled into her rectum, since it was so slippery from pre-cum and her and other juices it slid in about two inches and she jumped and let out a slight scream. I realize what had happened and went to apologize when she went right back down on me with her ass, this time it when in about three inches. She did this until my cock was swallowed up by her ass and she just held it there. It was the tightest thing I had ever felt.

I knew I was about to cum and couldn’t stop it now so I grabbed her tits and squeezed with all my might. I wanted one last look to see what my wife was doing and glanced over to see that the host was driving deep in her pussy and gasping with every stroke, I knew he was unloading in her when it hit me, SHE ISN’T ON THE PILL. I was frantic but overcome with ecstasy as I shot my load in Cindy’s ass. The thought of a stranger knocking up my wife drove me to a deeper and more intense orgasm than I had ever had. I was shocked at how intense it was. 

As I felt the last few squirt shoot deep into Cindy, I noticed that the guy Lisa had been sucking was now lining up to take his turn on her pussy. I closed my eyes and concentrated on Cindy’s big tits and tight ass as my cock slowly went limp and slid out. I looked around the room and there was two other guys finishing off the other two gals and one just standing over the chubby one with is cock in her mouth. Cindy meanwhile was rubbing her pussy on my lap, when I realized what a pig I was for not finishing off Cindy’s orgasm, I quickly replaced her hand with mine and fingered pussy. She was a loud one, moaning and screaming with each flick of her clit. The guy that had his cock in the chubby girl’s mouth grabbed Cindy out of my arms and laid her on the floor and mounted her in one swift motion.

I looked at her sweet ass with my jism oozing out and it caused my cock to jump a little even though it was still limp. Meanwhile, I looked back at Lisa and she was bucking to meet every thrust of the other single guy as he was rapidly pounding her pussy. She went into as deep and loud orgasm as I had every witnessed. The guy came in her and all of us just got quiet as we laid there spent and not sure what had just happened. It all started so innocently with my wife getting a job.



Pass the Possum, Please



"That's it? You're just going to walk out and leave me?"

"Look," Ardmore began, and he actually sounded slightly solicitous, "you're just nervous; it's stage fright. Everybody gets it at first, but you'll get over it. What you need is a prop, something to draw attention away from you while you're up there."

"A 'prop?' Where in hell am I going to get a 'prop' this late? The service's supposed to start in an hour." It was Arliss' turn to redden.

"Let me think a minute, sonny." Ardmore was squinting hard and rubbing his forehead with two fingers.

Arliss waited impatiently while the clock on the counter ticked ominously, and, then, Ardmore's eyes popped open as if to announce an epiphany.

"Do we still have that barbecued possum the widow Whitson brought us the other night?"

"Hell, yes, we still have it. You don't think anybody was actually going to eat the nasty thing, do you?"

"Where is it, then?"

"In the fridge; in a two gallon zip lock baggie, behind your case of Coors."

"Good. Now, here's what you're gonna do. You take that baggie with the possum in it, and you put it in one of those brown paper grocery sacks. Got it?"

"Yeah. Then what?"

"Then, when the congregation's all seated and expectant like, you're gonna walk in there carrying that grocery sack, and you're gonna set it right down on the altar in front of all of 'em. Believe me, there won't be an eye in the house that won't be stuck like glue on that sack."

"Okay, but what about when I start talking? Even this bunch of hayseeds isn't stupid enough to stare at a grocery sack for a whole sermon."

"That's the best part, kid. When they start getting restless and shifting their eyes back toward you, all you got to do is walk over and pick up the sack and shake it at em. Then, you tell em that the contents of that sack was brought to us at grave peril by our loyalest and bravest supporters, folks who's willin to lay down their lives doin the Lord's work. By then, they'll be sittin on the edges of them seats with their mouths hanging open, trying to guess what's in that bag."

"Oh, great, they'll probably take after me with pitchforks, when I tell 'em it's just a barbecued possum."

"Hell, you don't tell em that, boy; you're gonna reach inta that sack and real slow like start pullin that possum out and you're gonna tell them what you got in that sack is one of them dead baby whatchamacallits."

"A 'fetus?'" Arliss shrieked in disbelief. "You actually expect me to pull a barbecued possum out of a grocery sack and tell them it's a fetus?"

"Of course I do," Ardmore answered, nodding his head matter of factly. He had, after all, spent most of his carnival years running the shell game or one of the endless variations of it, so such slight of hand feats were second nature to him, and he had boundless confidence in the gullibility of common folks.

"Maybe you could get away with it, old man, you got plenty of experience at snookering people."

"Oh, for Christ's sake, sonny, you're not going to pass the fucking thing around for 'em to play with; you're just going to wave that baggie full of possum back and forth for a few seconds and then put it back in the sack. Of course, you can pull it off."

"I don't know; what makes you so sure?"

"Look at what you got going for you, boy. The light's so bad under that tent you couldn't recognize your own mother if she was standing right in front of you, and the first row of seats is at least ten feet from where you'll be standing. Besides, best part of all is that ain't a one of them hicks ever seen one of them, uh, ah..."

"'Fetuses?'" Arliss volunteered helpfully.

"Yeah, right, whatever," Ardmore answered impatiently. "Now, look, it's late and I got to go take care of Mrs. Merriweather, or you and me'll be walking to our next gig. You do like I tell you, and you'll be fine. Understand?"

"Hell, yes, I understand. I understand I got about as much chance of passin off a barbecued possum for a fetus as you got of humpin that old bag outa all her worldly possessions."

"Don't overrate yourself, L.D., you got less chance, but you also got no choice."

"How come, I don't have any choices around here?"

"Don't make me spell it out for you, boy. I cut you loose and you're through. Me? I don't need all this setup. I could make a livin off a flat rock; I know how to get by. But, you? You wouldn't last five minutes on your own, cause they ain't no call for ex-tilt-a-whirl operators, now are they?"

"I might do better than you expect, Ardmore."

"You surely might, sonny, and tonight's as good a time as any to start doin it."

"Oh, hell, fuck it. I can't do worse than make a fool out of myself, I guess."

"Getting less than two hundred in the plate would be a lot worse."

"Jesus, Ardmore, get the hell out of here, if you're going. I got enough to worry about what with having to wave a fucking baggie full of barbecued possum around in the middle of my first sermon, I sure don't need to be worrying about finances, too."

"You do the first thing right, boy, and it'll take care of the second," Ardmore advised as he pulled on a slightly stained white satin jacket. "Now, you come out and help me jump the pickup off the Winney's battery so's I don't get dirty."

Later, like a lifetime later, or so it seemed to him, Arliss found himself sitting in the Winny, staring down at a truly pitiful collection of coins and crumpled dollar bills scattered across the dinette table, nursing his third beer and wondering what in Hell had gone wrong with his sermon. Well, Ardmore, ole buddy, he ruminated, I not only made a fool of myself tonight, I came up about a hundred and eighty short of the two hundred you told me to get, so I guess you could call this a pretty piss poor night. His recriminations were interrupted by a soft knocking on the Winney's flimsy door and, only half believing his ears he did a double take in the direction of the sound. He heard it again, and, without getting out of his chair, he leaned across the kitchen and threw open the door.

"Yeah?" he snapped inhospitably, unable to see the visitor standing in the shadows.

"Hello, Brother Tate, remember me?" Jackie Alright stepped into the light and looked at him expectantly.

"Oh, yes, ma'am, I surely do," he replied a little wistfully; the vision of her bared, congested nipples fogged his mind for an instant. "It's Mrs. Alright, isn't it?" he asked, recalling the sweeping, bold signature on her checks in the collection plate.

"That's right, but if you let me in, I'll let you call me Jackie like everybody else."

"Oh, sure," he sputtered. "Come in, come in. Please. I'm sorry I forgot my manners. It's just..." 

She didn't wait for his explanation, but stepped quickly into the tiny space inside the camper. Soft light bathed her curves and lit her face and for an instant Arliss fantasized that maybe God had beamed Shania or someone even better into the Winny after all.

"What can I do for you, Mrs. Alright?" he asked politely, abandoning that fantasy.

"For starters, you can stop with the 'Mrs,' that's all over with now. My divorce was final day before yesterday."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And, for seconds, do you have another one of those?" she asked, indicating the open can of Coors on the table.

"Oh, sure. Coors is about the only thing around here that's not in short supply. Help yourself; they're in the fridge.

Jackie snapped the tab with a crimson nail and gave Arliss a smoldering look over the rim of her can as she took a sip.

"Looks like the collection plates came up nearly empty," she observed casually as her gaze shifted from his face to the table.

"I guess you could say my first sermon fell a little short of having the desired effect," he shrugged, and then he looked at her warily and asked, "You aren't from the bank are you?"

"No," she laughed. "I own the Ford dealership over there, behind you, or half of it, anyway; repossessing Winnebagos is not in my repertoire."

"Whew," he grinned, "that's good news, and the dealership thing explains those two hundred dollar checks you've been writing us every night."

"I want you to do well and keep up the good work. That's why I stopped by, to tell you how much I liked your sermon tonight."

"You did? You sure fooled me, Miss Alright. You walked out in the middle of it along with most of the rest of them. There weren't six left in the congregation when I quit."

She took another sip and licked her lips with the tip of the pinkest tongue Arliss had ever seen. "I slipped out with the others to powder my nose, and I just can't stand to use those Portolets you've got out there, so I went to the dealership and it took me a while to get back."

"So you weren't mad like the rest of them?"

"Of course not, silly," she laughed again, tipping her can.

"May I?" she asked, reaching to open the refrigerator without waiting for an invitation. "I haven't had a beer in so long, I've forgotten how good they taste. Guess, I've got some catching up to do on lots of things." Her tone hinted at the purgatory of self-denial she had endured during the many months her divorce was pending, but he was enmeshed in his own misery and missed it.

"Help yourself. The thousand bucks you've put in the plate this week entitles you to all the beer you want."

"Thanks. I'll write you another check for the collection I missed tonight."

"Forget it. I'll still be short two hundred. Ardmore's done come to count on your checks; says I'm supposed to squeeze another two hundred out of the hayseeds on top of yours."

"If you would rather have cash," she said solicitously while reaching for her purse, "you could fib a little and tell him I didn't come tonight."

"Naw, but thanks for the thought. He would just start thinking I'm some sort of Billy Graham and want me to do it again at the next stop. It would just postpone my downfall."

"You know what went wrong tonight, don't you?" she inquired gently.

"I'm not sure. I thought things were going okay for a while, but then, all of a sudden, everybody started squirming around and whispering and pretty soon they started getting up and leaving. I haven't figured out why."

"I think you lost them with that possum in a poke trick." Jackie hid behind her beer and tried to stifle a giggle.

"Possum?" Arliss yelped defensively. "What possum?"

"The possum in the baggie you tried to pass of as a fetus, that's what possum." Her eyes twinkled, and she had to cough to conceal a chuckle.

"Oh hell," he gasped. "Ardmore swore ain't none of them hayseeds ever seen a fetus, so wouldn't none of them know the difference."

"Yeah, but what Ardmore didn't think about was that every one of those hayseeds has seen a barbecued possum in a baggie, most of them a couple times a week. Times are hard and folks got to eat; possum's regular fare on most tables around here."

"I'm gonna be sick."

"These folks may be simple, but they aren't dumb, and they sure don't like anybody trying to put one over on them, especially when it comes to usin Jesus to trick them out of what little money they have. That's why you lost them tonight."

"I think I'm gonna kill Ardmore when he gets back tomorrow."

She lowered her eyelids to slits, and he could almost see flames dancing in her pupils as she watched him over the rim of her can. "You almost lost me, too; before the possum trick. Did you know that?" Her voice had a smoldering quality.

"No, ma'am," he replied in bewilderment, shaking his head. 

"It was the part right after fornication, when you laid into sodomy for being a sin worse than killing babies. You called it an 'abomination.' Remember?"

"I remember."

"I like sodomy." Her voice was smooth as silk and calm like she was reading off that morning's shopping list, and her eyes never left his.

"You what?" he croaked in disbelief.

"I like sodomy," she repeated patiently, pronouncing the word with such relish he imagined it was a chocolate melting on her tongue. "More to the point, I like being sodomized. You might even say it is one of my favorite things, of a sexual nature, that is."

"My God, Ardmore's right.

"If he told you that I like the feeling of a man being inside me there, then, he is right," she purred.

"No, no, not you specifically," he protested, "just women in general."

"I only know what I like; what feels good to me." She finished her beer and set the empty can on the table.

"Oh, my God."

"I don't think God cares much one way or the other what I do with my body or let anybody else do to it. Do you?"

"Well, uh, no, uh, yes, ah, I mean, aw, hell, I don't know. It's supposed to be a sin, isn't it?"

"You've never done it, have you?"

He blushed, turning beet red and couldn't answer for a minute. Then, he reached for another beer and while she wasn't skewering him with those piercing eyes, he sputtered, "That hasn't got anything to do with it."

"Knowledge and understanding have everything to do with it, Arliss," she said. "You shouldn't be so quick to condemn those who like doing things you haven't tried."

"I wasn't condemning the people, just the act, and I don't have to kill someone to know it's wrong and a sin."

"Oh, sweet Jesus, save me from narrow-minded preachers," she groaned playfully. "There you go, weighing murder and sex on the same scale like they were somehow similar."

"They're both sins," he protested lamely.

"Are they really?" she answered archly. "What's so sinful about a woman giving her body, all of it, to a man?"

"I mean the sodomy part."

"Are you sure about that? I don't remember God passing out a laundry list of sexual does and don'ts, do you?"

"Well, not exactly," he conceded. He had exceeded the limits of his theological underpinnings long before this point in the conversation and was beginning to feel the sands of logic shift under his feet.

"Nice suit," she remarked, changing the subject. His coat was hanging on the back of a chair beside the table and her fingers caressed the fabric as she spoke.

"Thanks," he replied relieved at having been excused from defending his sermon. "It's not mine, not to keep, anyway. It's just out on approval; Ardmore says it goes back to the store on Monday."

"But, you've worn it already, and the tags are off," she observed.

"Ardmore does it all the time. Gets a suit on approval, wears it a few times, then sews the labels back on and takes it back. Who's to know the difference, he says."

"The way he sweats when he's preaching, I'd say just about everybody within ten feet of any suit he's worn would know the difference." 

"Brother, are you right about that. I keep tellin him to take a bath but he just says that wading in the Holy Water during baptisms is all the cleansing he needs." 

"Ah, that reminds me. I do have one a favor to ask of you; it's another of the reasons I came tonight."

"What's that, Miss Alright? I'll do whatever you want."

"Is that a fact, Arliss?" she purred steamily, and he felt the temperature in the camper rise about ten degrees.

"Yes, ma'am, anything."

"I want you to baptize me."

"Me? Tonight?"

"Yes, you, tonight, and stop calling me 'ma'am,' I'm not that much older than you. It's just Jackie, okay?" She was fingering a strand of pearls that dangled from her neck into her cleavage like a crumb trail for his eyes to follow through the forest of his uncertainty. His eyes swept her curves, and he tried to imagine her emerging from the baptismal tank soaked to the skin with one of those cheap, nylon baptismal gowns stuck to her like Saran wrap.

"That's not my department, Jackie. Come back tomorrow and Ardmore'll do it for you."

"I don't want Ardmore; I want you. Don't I have the right to choose?"

"Well, yes, I guess so, but Ardmore has more experience. I've never done a baptism."

"It's not, like, complicated or anything, is it? Surely you know how. Hell, I've seen enough of them this past week, I could probably do my own, but it wouldn't be the same."

"Yeah, I know how. I've seen a thousand, I guess."

"That's my boy. You gotta lose your virginity sometime and tonight's as good a time as any. You'll never find a more willing partner, either."

His mouth dropped open, and he gaped at her in astonishment until she winked and said, "For the baptism, Arliss, the baptism."

He inhaled with a sigh she took to be relief, and said, "Okay, I'll do it. If that's what you want, I'll do it."

"Good boy," she said, purring again. "Now, give me one of those baptismal gowns yall use so I don't ruin my dress."

Arliss waited in the shadows just under the edge of the tent while she changed. The dealership lights had turned themselves off, but the moon was up, and he could see its reflection wavering in the dark baptismal waters. In a few moments, he saw a wink of light as the Winney's door opened and closed, and then, there she was, floating toward him across the grass like a wisp of white smoke.

"Arliss?" she called out to him.

"Over here," he replied, and she turned toward the sound of his voice.

"It's so dark, I can't see you."

"It's not so bad; your eyes will adjust in a minute," he replied softly, moving to intercept her and guide her to the tent. 

His hand on her arm was firm but gentle, and the touch set her to tingling. She put her hand on his and leaned against him in the dark. Her full curves, warmly indistinct beneath the billowing gown, brushed against him. "You'll have to lead me, Arliss," she breathed in a whisper, "I can't see a thing." 

He felt the heavy swell of her breast pressing his arm and the wide sweep of her hip tight to his own as she leaned against him for reassurance. She stumbled on the uneven ground, and he quickly circled her waist with his arm. She blinked and squinted and leaned closer to his warmth.

"Don't let me go," she said, clutching his hand.

"I won't," he replied, hoping she wouldn't notice the catch in his throat.

"Are we almost there?"

"Almost."

"Oh, yes, there's the tent," she giggled, as her sight returned, but she still clung to his arm. Then, she lifted her face and smiled at him, "You saved me; I was so blind, I could have wandered off into the night and been lost forever."

"And have me miss the chance to baptize the prettiest woman that's ever come to a Joyful Uprising revival? Not a chance I would let that happen."

"My, you are a sweet man," she chuckled, "but still, maybe I shouldn't have told them to turn out the dealership lights."

"I wondered why they shut down so early," he replied puzzled.

"A girl's got to be careful about being seen too clearly when she's soaking wet," she laughed.

"I hear that," he chuckled. "Ardmore says some of em come up so ugly he wants to push em back down and hold em under till the bubbles stop coming up, and it's only the powerful hand of God that stops him, but I don't think you'll have a thing to worry about on that account."

"Well, thanks, I guess," she said, smiling at his awkward compliment, "still a little darkness won't hurt anything."

"Maybe, but the moon's coming up pretty quick," he observed as he led her under the edge of the tent.

"There it is; I can see it now," she chirped excitedly as the outlines of the tank took shape in the dim light. She stepped toward the tank, pulling him after her by the hand. 

She reached the tank and plunged her hand into the black water. "Wow!" she exclaimed, "That's warm."

"The air's cool; makes the water feel warm."

"I want to get in," she said, kicking off her shoes.

"Be my guest. I'll be with you soon as I unlace these boots."

"Do you wear combat boots with all your suits?" she asked as she mounted the makeshift steps along side the tank.

"No, ma'am, just this one," he laughed. "They tone it down some, don't they."

"I would say so; makes you fit right in with the congregation." She stepped lightly across the platform at the top of the steps and tested the water again with her toes.




Pass the Possum, Please



Without waiting for him, she lowered herself, step by step, into the dark water. It rose, first to her calves, then to her knees and, when she stepped off the bottom step, it rose again and stopped at mid-thigh. She pushed her legs through the water, appearing to float over the surface like a swan, and the gown flowed train-like behind her. She stopped in mid-tank, turning toward him, and the trailing gown wrapped itself around her legs.

"There," he grunted, pulling his remaining boot off and setting it on the ground. He stood and stepped toward the tank.

"You're forgetting something, aren't you?" she asked, wrestling to free herself from the gown.

"What?" he answered, glancing down in bewilderment.

"Your pants, silly."

"What about my pants?" He was confused.

"You'll ruin them if you get them wet. You're going to sew the labels back on and return them tomorrow. Remember? Nobody's going to take back a pair of suit pants that you've been swimming in, are they?"

"Oh, hell, you're right," he grumbled. "I better go back to the Winny and change."

"Forget it. Just take them off and get in here."

"What? I can't do that. I mean, all I got on under them are my shorts."

"I won't look, besides, it's too dark in here to see much anyway, I already took care of that."

"Are you sure? I don't think preachers are supposed to do baptisms in their underwear."

"Hell, yes, I'm sure, honey," she teased. "You won't be the first man I've seen in his underwear, and, after that trick you pulled with the possum, I don't see any of your congregation hanging around to complain, either."

"Don't remind me," he groaned as he fumbled with his belt buckle.

She stared, cat-like in the dark, as he loosened his belt and unzipped his pants. His thumbs hooked the waistband and slipped the trousers over his hips and down his legs. He stooped to remove them leg at a time, and she rose on tiptoes to follow his progress. When, at last, he had removed the pants, he turned toward her, and she could see in the split between the tails of his shirt a smudge of reflected light at the junction of his thighs. He climbed the steps to the tank, and she eyed him surreptitiously. His shirttails separated revealing a rounded, heavy bulge in the cup of his briefs, and she felt the thrill of anticipation. He lowered himself into the water and waded toward her. The water lapped at his thighs not quite reaching the swelled mound between his legs.

"Hold on a minute," she breathed breathlessly. She continued to tug the wetted material of the gown that had seized her legs with octopus-like tentacles.

He halted, waiting.

"What size is this thing?" she asked plucking the copious folds of cloth over her chest.

"Huge. One size fits all, you know. We've dunked some whoppers in that gown."

"I hate it," she stated. Her fingers toyed with the snap at her throat.

"It's all I had."

"I'm taking it off. I want to be naked when you baptize me."

"Now, wait a minute," he gasped extending his hands, palm out, toward her. "I don't think....."

"It's my choice, isn't it?"

"I don't know about that. Ardmore does babies naked sometimes, yeah, but I don't know about grownups."

"Then, there's no rule against it, is there?" She tugged the collar snap open as she spoke, and, mesmerized, his eyes followed her fingers.

"Not that I know of, but it's never come up before."

"It's coming up now, Arliss," she breathed his name in a soft hiss and loosened two more snaps. The gown opened at the throat, and her tanned skin peeked through. "I came into this world naked, and I want to be reborn into it naked, too."

He froze, immobilized in waters that he felt sure were soon to be over his head. Her fingers probed the folds of fabric, and he could feel the pounding of his blood rushing in his ears.

Snaps popped open, cracking like firecrackers in the late-night stillness, and she took a step toward him. Moonlight glittered in her eyes and glinted in the curls of her hair. He measured time in the rise and fall of his chest as she looked at him and fingered the remaining snaps.

"That'll be okay with you, won't it, Arliss; to baptize me naked?" Her voice was soft as a lover's caress as she shrugged her shoulders to free herself and let the gown slip down her back.

His eyes dropped to her exposed breasts, heavy, browned globes emblazoned with tiny triangles of milk-white skin. Nipples, darkly congested, encircled by deeply wrinkled areolas, thrust toward him. She let him stare for a moment, then took a step closer. The loosened gown fell free and slipped beneath the water as her eyes searched his and contested him for mastery of the moment.

His mouth gaped. His eyes slid down the downy slope to the bottom of her belly and the closely cropped, narrowly waxed wedge of her bush. Fleeting visions of mid-way, carnie girls and their tangled, unruly mops flickered briefly in his memory, then dissipated when she stepped closer.

"I mean, you don't really mind, do you?" She was close enough to whisper. So close, he could feel the heat from her body through his shirt. Close enough to smell her mingled fragrances. Close enough to feel her in the tingling short hairs on his neck. His pulse quickened and a warmth, at once both foreign and familiar, flickered in his belly.

He blinked an answer of sorts and under the water her knees brushed his. She pierced him with her gaze, eyes shimmering like pools of black water, and then she sobbed as though baptism was the answer to a thousand prayers, "I'm ready, Arliss, I'm ready, now."

He reached for her awkwardly and positioned his feet outside hers so her legs were between his. He put one hand in the small of her back and the other behind her neck to support her.

"Lean back when I tell you," he said. "I won't let you fall."

Her hands fluttered nervously at her sides. The positioning felt insecure. "Wait," she protested, but he was already pressing closer, leaning toward her and forcing her backward. Then, she felt him. His bulging cup was pressing against the flat of her belly, a tightly coiled spring flattening against her softest curves. She gulped and felt him straddling her hips, trying to coax her feet to slide through the space between his legs. Her feet churned for a purchase and skidded on the slippery bottom of the tank. His hands pressed and lifted, and her hips floated up to meet his at the choppy surface of the water.

"I'm no good at this," he protested, his hands slipping on her slick, wet skin.

"No, no, you're doing fine," she encouraged as her nearly hairless slit skidded across the firm cotton cup of his briefs. Her nerve endings sparkled, and she bit her lip to suppress a squeal. Her hips rose again, reflexively, sending out small tidal waves to the far edges of the pool, and she bumped him again with her bare sex.

He hunkered over her, holding her squirming body above the water, and felt her touching him. Images bloomed in his mind; her sex spreading, lips opening, a thrush of hot pink blushing inside, the sweet oils of her essence oozing from her gaping opening, teasing the growing length of his cock. He felt himself swelling, responding to innocent, inadvertent contact with prurient fervor.

He shut his eyes, trying to block the awareness of her touch, but he grew in spite of his denial. He lengthened, stretching weak elastic and elongating the confines of his cup. Oh God, no, he gasped in quiet desperation, she's got to feel that. She was surging beneath him, between his legs, her hands gripping his hips for support and every lunge mashed her sex against his hardening cock. His fingers dug into the small of her back. She arched and gripped his upper arms with claw-like fingers. She lifted herself, with his help, and her dripping pussy broke the surface of the water to ride the length of his erection.

"Hurry, Arliss," she moaned. She threw her head back, pointing her chin toward the tent roof above them and the tip-ends of her hair were dragging in the water.

"I can't remember the words, damnit," he cursed with fragmenting concentration.

"Forget the fucking words, just dunk me." Her tone conveyed a sense of urgency, but it was her use of the word, "fuck" that galvanized him. 

His cock throbbed and lurched in his shorts. Primal desire propelled him, and he lifted her hips to his body. His cock, thick, hard, throbbing with illicit excitement, pressed her pussy lips. His hips flicked forward, and his cock surged between her lips, sliding upward to nudge her swollen clitoris.

She gasped an "Oh," when he brushed her clit, and he tilted her back, her trailing hair gathering in coils on the water's surface. 

"Arliss!" she cried out just as the water closed over her face, and then, just as suddenly, it was over, and he was lifting her from the water, lifting her to her feet and supporting her by the elbows, while she shook the water from her eyes and ears. "Are you okay?" he asked when she blinked at him. Rivulets of water poured off her hair and coursed down her breasts. Little streams of water ran off her up-turned nipples and arched toward him.

"It was too fast," she protested. "I don't feel any different."

"God, I sure do," he panted, tugging his shirttails to cover himself.

She moved closer, stalking. "It was supposed to wash away my sins; stop my cravings, but it didn't work."

"I told you I wasn't any good at it. What did you expect?"

"I thought I would feel different, changed."

"Maybe you are."

"Like hell I am. Look at me, Arliss. Tell me what you see?"

"A woman?" he answered hopefully. "A beautiful woman?"

"Oh hell," she barked in frustration. "Look at these." She cupped her breasts in her hands and lifted them toward the astonished boy. "Look at my nipples, they're hard as bullets and they are on fire. They're screaming to be touched, sucked, chewed, anything."

"God!" he moaned in astonished agony watching her tease her nipples with her thumbs, and the wantonly autoerotic display caused his cock to twitch. 

"You were supposed to put the fire out, Arliss, but you didn't. My pussy's so hot it would boil this water if I squatted down in it. I'm soaking wet inside, and my clit feels like a throbbing rock, but it's not supposed to be feeling that way, not after being baptized."

"I forgot the words, Jackie."

"It wasn't the words, Arliss, it's this," and with that she reached for him and in that instant she bridged the gap between rich and poor, weakness and strength, the saved and the damned. Her fingers found his cock behind the veil of his shirttail and brazenly wrapped around him. "I still want this, Arliss. More than anything I have wanted in my entire life, I want to feel you inside me." Her fingers circled him tightly like strong lips in the darkness, and she moved them on his flesh to match the cadence of her words.

"Jackie! Oh, my God, we can't," he cried out in protest. "This is a church, for God's sake."

"This is a tent, not a church, Arliss, and we're standing in a cattle trough not a baptismal font.

"But, but, it's not right," he sputtered. "I'm supposed to be a prea... Oh, God, don't do that."

Her fingers slipping under the leg band of his briefs cut him off in mid word. The skin of her fingers, smooth as silk, caressed his length, and then fondled the swollen head of his prick.

"Supposed to be what tilt-a-whirl boy? A preacher? If you are a preacher, then I am Satan himself, and this is one struggle with evil you are going to lose." She chuckled as her fingernail scratched the eye in the tip of his cock seeking the pre-cum she was sure to find.

His brain was churning, his senses whipped to a foamy froth by the exquisite torture of her fingers on his flesh. His knees buckled, and he reached for her shoulders for support. He closed his eyes and held his breath while she freed his hot flesh. He felt her coming closer, pulling his prick toward her heat, and he was powerless to move. Then, she touched herself with him, and he gasped aloud.

"Jackie, Jesus."

"You like that, baby?" she panted, nuzzling the head of his prick into the deep wet between her pussy lips. 

"Jackie, Jackie," he chanted as she moved her hips to drive his shaft through her deep furrow.

Her fingers circled his cock, and she leaned against his chest holding him pressed into her slit, and she stroked him till she felt his legs beginning to tremble. She released him, murmuring into his shirt, "I know what you want, baby."

"Jackie! Don't stop," he begged, but she had already gone, sinking to her knees in the water that rose to cover her inflamed breasts.

She guided him, brushing her cheeks with his cock head, leaving little strands of precum streaking her face. She turned her face and ran her lips along the side of his cock, taking little nips with her teeth on the way to the tip. Her tongue slipped out to wet him, and he gagged with desire.

"I know what you want," she muttered as her pursed lips kissed the oozing tip of his dick. She licked his precum, threading the tip of her tongue into the eye to take his juice from the source, and she felt his fingers eagerly twisting the wet strands of her hair.

"You want to put your cock in my ass, don't you, baby? You want to shove it up my ass and learn how it feels to fuck a woman's ass."

"Oh, God, yes, no, oh, God, I don't know."

She took him into her mouth, wetting his head with lavish strokes of her tongue and felt him lunge toward her sucking lips. Her oval mouth plunged down engulfing him, then lifted, then plunged again, fucking the taut length of his prick. Her circling fingers squeezed his cock-base, teasing yet delaying his climax. She lifted her mouth from him; his cock shined like a silver-sided fish in the moonlight.

"You want to put it deep in my ass, don't you, baby. You want to feel how tight my ass is. How my ass muscles can squeeze your big cock and milk every drop of cum out of you. You want it?"

"Jackie!"

"Say it."

"I want it."

"Say it right. Tell me what you want to do to me."

"I want to fuck you."

"Where?"

"In the ass."

"How?"

"Deep."

"And?"

"Hard."

"How deep?"

"All of it, as deep as it will go."

"To do what?"

"To cum in your ass. To fill your ass up with cum."

"Come with me, then," she said, leading him by the cock to the steps.

She led him to the platform of the low, portable stage. She sat him in front of the pulpit, then turned him sideways and made him lie on his back along the edge. She crouched beside him, kneeling in the grass and lifted his hard prick off his belly with one hand while she loosened his buttons. She bared his chest. His cock arched up, throbbing, the shaft cradled within the circle of her hand. Her hand moved sensuously on his flesh, stroking him with practiced knowledge, and he lifted his hips to her touch.

"You're ready, aren't you, baby?"

"Yes, yes, oh, God, yes," he chanted.

She rose to her feet and lifted a leg to straddle him. One knee on the platform and one foot on the ground, she settled her dripping sex onto his belly. Her wetness enveloped the head of his cock, and he gave an involuntary shudder. The heat of her splayed lips seared erotic images into his brain; his hands encircled her narrow waist, and he tried to wrestle her into position.

"Hmmm," she moaned as his cockhead scraped her clit, and then, she whispered, "I like being wanted," and she lifted her hips and reached for him.

"Ohhhh," he gasped, feeling her maneuver his cockhead between her cheeks.

She guided him, stroking him feverishly, her hand quivering with desire, and expressed a stream of slippery precum into her crack. Eyes closed, her lower lip caught between her teeth, she hovered over his spike savoring the thrill of anticipation coursing through her limbs. His cock twitched and then twitched again, and she felt a surge of warm liquid bathing her rosebud.

"Don't cum yet, baby; I want it inside me," she mouthed against his ear, stopping the movement of her hand. Her breasts flattened against his bare chest; nipples engorged and stiff pressed flaming indentations in his skin.

"I'll hurt you," he said, almost gagging on the words, and it was as though an unseen hand had stayed him at the very threshold of his manhood and snatched him back to sensibility.

"No, you won't, Arliss," she said, cooing his name softly. "I prepared myself for this. I came to every service with a buttplug in my ass; every night a little bit bigger, and I would sit and watch you and fantasize that it was your cock in my ass that I felt."

"Jackie!" he moaned remembering her sultry smile whenever their eyes met during services.

"And, tonight, while I was gone and you were preaching, I greased myself with KY jelly just for you, baby."

"Oh, Jes....," he began only to be cut short as she shifted her weight to her hips, and he felt his cock gliding through her slippery, expanded ring.

She settled on him in a controlled descent, savoring the play of rapturous emotions across his face as her elastic muscles accepted him. She lived for such moments, those precious seconds when anticipation and preparation, hunger and frustration come to full fruition. She bloomed and a flush of crimson flooded her face fed by a wellspring of tantalizing agony. Her sense of time and space evaporated, her complete existence compressed into those brief moments that she measured now only by his length. Emotion fueled by sensation flooded her womb and surged into her limbs as she felt his thickness stretching the burning ring of her desire.

"Oh, my goodness, you are huge," she breathed ecstatically as her cheeks came to rest on his thighs, and she could sink no lower.

He blinked at her, wide eyed, with the astonished look of one overcome by the discovery that the descent into hell could be heavenly. His hands, fingers widespread, rested on her butt cheeks, and she felt the heat of his perspiring palms on her skin.

"You like?" she questioned, awakening her quiescent muscles with a Kagel.

"Oh, God," he gurgled unresponsively; her anal sleeve rippled along his length dissolving his thought processes in a churning cauldron of sensations.

"Don't move," she admonished him, cradling his face between her hands and gazing into his eyes. Then, she astounded him with a series of Kagels that coalesced her flesh around him in a convulsion of milking spasms that snatched the breath from his lungs.

"Jackie!" he wailed feeling a surge in his cock.

"Shhhh, baby, shhhhhh," she whispered in his ear. She cradled his head in her arms and her breasts drug across his chest as she lifted her hips, and he could feel cool air as she let him slip nearly out. Then, as she reversed direction and slowly impaled herself again, she said, "Just let Jackie fuck your big dick with her ass."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and clung to her while her buttocks rose and fell and her lust consumed her. She undulated her hips, rising and falling, and took his measure in a rhythmic, slow motion dance. He lay quaking, too enraptured to move, while she sheathed and unsheathed his throbbing scythe. 

She felt it first, that heavy twitching throb of his cock buried deep in her ass on the down stroke, and then she heard it in the quick gulp of a gasp from his lips on the next stroke. 

"Ohhhhh, oohhhhh, oooooooooo," he sputtered as orgasmic lightning leapt from nerve to nerve in his cock.

"Cum, baby," she cooed, pressing her ass to his thighs to take him as deep as she could. "I want it; I want to feel it shoot in my ass. Pump my ass full with your cum."

"Jesus Fucking Christ," he grunted and his head and shoulders jerked reflexively upward in a crunch that arched her back and drove his spike another inch up her ass. His hands gripped her butt. His fingers clawed at her crack spreading her cheeks and opening her up as his cock coughed thick, mucusy gobs of cum deep in her rectum. 




Pass the Possum, Please



She felt the primal throbbing of his prick and the spreading warmth of his cum filling her ass like a hot, soapy enema and moaned "Baby!" Then, she flattened her pussy against him and rubbed her clit on his pubic ridge and instantly felt the crest of her own wave rising in her womb.

"Jackie, Jackie," he chanted to the rapid-fire cadence of his squirts.

"Yes, baby, yes," she purred from the depths of her throat. Her eyes shut tightly, teeth clenched, head shaking tossing matted strands of wet hair, her fists pounding his shoulders as orgasmic dementia beset her and she groaned, "Oh, God, yes, baby, your cock in my ass makes me cum so fucking goooooood."

He felt her stiffen like a sort of sexual rigor mortis had set in and her hips jerked spasmodically. A string of guttural "O's" bubbled off her lips, and then she collapsed in his arms, limp as a rag, and he thought for a second that she had fainted. He lay back, lowering her gently to his chest, and he felt her trip-hammer heart beat in her breasts. The throbbing in his cock subsided, but the rolling convulsions in her rectum kept him hard, surfing on a white-capping sea of cum.

He closed his eyes, lost in the knowledge of what he had done and confounded by his unwillingness to retreat from her warmth. He drifted until she called him back, and he opened his eyes to find her melted, soft and pliable, against the hard ridges of his body.

"I needed that," she sighed contentedly. "I wanted to know what your cock would feel like from the moment I laid eyes on you, Arliss Tate."

His hands stroked her back as she spoke, and she seemed to him, somehow, smaller, more vulnerable. "I just can't believe it," he replied with a hint of awe in his voice.

"Why not?" she giggled, lifting her cheek from his chest to look him in the eye. "It's the truth. I've been wanting this," and, then, she did another Kagel that sent a wave of warm cum pouring out of her ass and down his dick to his balls, "since that day you came around putting up revival posters at Maccie's beauty parlor."

"It's not you I can't believe," he answered, vividly recalling that day, and Maccie's offer of a free shampoo and haircut, if he would just pose in the window with his shirt off for the balance of the afternoon. "I can't believe how good it felt."

"So, you think maybe you were wrong?"

"Yes."

"Not an abomination, after all?"

"No."

"Sorry you didn't figure that out sooner?"

"No, not at all."

"Really?" she questioned, eyeing him quizzically. "Why not?" She could feel him diminishing inside her, and, as he softened, her muscles contracted to expel him.

"Because, it wouldn't have been the same with anybody else," he responded with genuine candor. Moonlight glowed in his eyes and they sparkled as he spoke, and she felt a warm rush of emotion.

"Oh, my God, you are a sweet man," she smiled, leaning to kiss him on the mouth, and she tried to capture him with a final Kagel.

Her gorgeous lips caressed his there on the altar before the pulpit as his erection faded inside her. Their tongues thrust and parried and then entwined in co-joined bliss even as her rectal sleeve contracted and slid him out in the backwash of his orgasm. 

"Oh," she frowned as he left her, her lips mouthing her disappointment around his tongue, and, to assuage her loss, he tongue-fucked her mouth till she giggled and said, "Why, Arliss, I do believe you want to fuck me some more."

Her emptied ass gaped, a dark, open tunnel with a trickle of cum leaking from the mouth, and she knew it would be a while before her spincter regained enough elasticity to close. The memory of him lingered on her nerve-endings, and it fed a new hunger as they kissed. 

"Oh, God, yes, Jackie, yes, I want to, but I don't think I can, not yet anyway."

"Poor baby," she purred sympathetically, seizing him with her fingers in the steamy space between their legs, "Jackie can fix that."

"Lord," he moaned as she expertly massaged his cum-slathered cock.

Just as he began to respond, a car turned off the main road, and the beams of its headlights briefly swept the hollow.

"What the hell is that?" he grumbled with a note of alarm; Ardmore wasn't due back till morning if everything went right and middle of the night visitors could only mean trouble.

"It's nothing, Arliss; they're just turning around," she answered, her slippery hand gently milking his flesh.

But the lights kept coming, bouncing down the rough, sloped lane to the floor of the hollow, and then they turned and, picking up speed, headed directly toward the tent.

"Oh, shit, they aren't leaving," Jackie squealed anxiously as she rolled off Arliss and yanked his arm to help him up. "You get dressed quick, while I find a place to hide. Move!"

He hesitated for a moment, blinded by the light and by the vision of her, naked, illuminated and visible for the first time, and he was torn between saving his own skin and protecting hers. The lights, though dim, revealed what he had only felt and imagined before and she was gorgeous; tall, slender, with breasts like firm melons rising proudly above her flat tummy and widely flaring hips. Her legs were long and tapered, and he remembered the downy texture of her thighs touching him. She stood with remarkable calm under the circumstances, and as his eyes lingered on her, she slowly turned her back to expose the rounded firmness of her buttocks. Traces of cum and KY jelly in her crease caught the light and shimmered as she moved and he felt the urge to fall on his knees to worship her.

"You better hurry, Arliss, they are almost here," she said, looking back at him over her shoulder, and then, because he seemed uncertain, she added, "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

Her assurance broke the spell and Arliss dove for his pants in the shadow of the baptismal tank. He found the pants, but his boots had gone missing, and with his heart pounding in his throat he struggled to get his foot in the leg of the pants. He had one leg up to his knee when the lights bounced to a stop not ten feet from the tent, and he heard the door open. He cowered, three-quarters naked, in the shelter of the tank, peeping over the top but blinded by the glare of the headlights.

"Arliss?" a familiar voice boomed over the noise of the idling motor. "Are you in there, boy?"

"Ardmore? Is that you?" Relief was evident in the boy's voice. He rose to a crouch and tried to shield his eyes from the light with his hand.

"Of course it's me, Arliss; who the hell else would be comin out here in the middle of the night?" The voice was moving closer, sounding impatient.

"Stay there, Ardmore," Arliss pleaded, tugging his pants. "I'll be there in a second."

Ardmore, of course, ignored him, and before Arliss could snap his fingers, there he was standing in front of him, hands on his hips and his mouth open wide enough to swallow the Winny in one gulp.

"What in the hell are you doin out here neked, L.D.?" he bellowed with a smirk.

Arliss was sort of hunched over, leaning against the side of the tank. He had managed to get the pants half way up one leg and was using the empty leg to shield his groin. His lips were moving but no sounds were coming out, and he looked sort of like a beached fish.

"Evening, Ms. Alright," Ardmore said politely, looking past the cowering boy and tipping his hat.

"It has been a good evening, Brother McCandless," she replied in a voice that would make a man think of warmed honey.

Arliss' head snapped around at the sound of her voice, and the shock nearly made him topple into the tank. She was standing not ten feet behind him, looking just as serene as you please, and she was wearing a terry robe that just covered the tops of her thighs. She had a pair of sandals on her feet, and her hair was rapped in a towel that looked like a turban. He blinked and rubbed his eyes in disbelief.

"How did he do?" Ardmore asked her, ignoring Arliss for the moment.

"With the sermon? About like you expected."

"I knew he weren't cut out for preachin; how'd he do with the rest of it?" 

"Well, now, Brother McCandless, we're still in the process of finding that out, but so far, I'd say he's doing much better than you predicted."

"Him?" he blurted in disbelief. "You're kidding, aren't you?" he continued turning to look at the boy with a mixture of surprise and suspicion.

"I told you, Ardmore, I am a business woman; I do not kid about serious matters."

Arliss's neck was beginning to stiffen from the cool night air and from swiveling back and forth as he tried to follow the conversation. Nothing made sense and the confusion was making his head spin. Questions bounced off the walls of his mind.

"Does that mean we have a deal, then?" The old man sounded, well, almost hopeful.

"I'm satisfied," she answered with a smile. "As far as I am concerned, we have a deal, but the rest is up to Arliss."

"Boy!" Ardmore rumbled like he was warming up to ask God to vaporize a tree or something, and Arliss could feel the both of them looking at him.

"Yes, sir?"

"You listen to me good, cause this is your only chance, and you don't want to fuck it up."

"What?" He was stunned.

"I am cuttin you loose, as of right now. You ain't got preachin in you, but worse than that, boy, you ain't got a prayer of learnin how to scam folks cause you're too fuckin kind-hearted. Now, you listen, cause this lady's gonna make you an offer that'll make both of us real happy."

Dazed and confused, Arliss turned toward Jackie.

"I want you to come and work for me at the dealership," she said, nodding in the direction of the cars parked above the hollow. "I'll give you a salary and a car to drive. While you're, ah, looking for a place to live, you'll stay at my house. How does that sound?"

"But, but," he sputtered, "who'll set up the tent and chairs, if I leave?"

"Oh, for Christ's sake, kid, will you shut the fuck up," Ardmore groaned, rolling his eyes.

"Now, be nice, Ardmore," Jackie said gently while looking at Arliss. "He's only protecting you." Then, she said, "Ardmore won't be setting up the tent anymore, Arliss. I'm paying off the Winny and setting him up in a television studio I'm a part owner of over in Charlotte. He'll preach, and we'll beam him all over the country, two-three hundred markets, counting cable, and we'll split the profits fifty/fifty."

"Ah, uh, that's sixty/forty," Ardmore said interrupting.

"Oh, right," Jackie nodded.

"But, but," Arliss sputtered in bewilderment, "why can't I go to Charlotte and be on television with Ardmore?"

"Because, Arliss, like Ardmore says, you aren't cut out for it. The show wouldn't work with you on stage and you would just be in the way off camera. We have technicians for that."

"But why are you offering me a job?"

"Because Ardmore said he couldn't take me up on the Charlotte offer if it meant leaving you high and dry, Arliss."

"You said that?" Arliss questioned turning to the old man in disbelief.

"Don't pay any attention to her; that don't mean nothin," the old man grumbled self-consciously. "Besides, she got her own reasons for offerin you a job, L.D."

"He is definitely right about that, Arliss," Jackie purred with a seductive smile. "You have some talents I could use in my, er, ah, business."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Whatever I want you to do; whenever I want you to do it. Do you think you can handle that?" There was more than a hint of suggestion in her tone, and she was standing with her feet just a little further apart than modesty would allow, and his eyes followed her legs to the hem of her robe, then upward to where the lapels had opened some to reveal her cleavage, and then higher to her eyes that were looking at him with the open promise of erotic adventure.

"Don't fuck this up, kid," Ardmore mumbled under his breath like a softly uttered prayer.

"Don't worry, old man, I won't," he answered, and then he turned toward Jackie, and said, "I would love to work for you, Jackie. When do I start?"

"In about five minutes," she replied with a throaty purr. "Ardmore and I have some business to take care of first."

"You brought the papers?" Ardmore asked her.

"They're right here," she answered, turning and stooping to extract a suitcase hidden under the platform. 

She set the suitcase on the platform and opened it. It was nearly empty except for some envelopes and a tube of KY jelly.

"Oh, oh," she giggled, snatching the tube of lubricant and slipping it into her robe pocket, "that stays with me."

Then, she turned to Ardmore, and said, "Everything's there and in order. I've signed the papers, so all you need to do is sign them and give them to my lawyer, who'll meet you at the studio tomorrow. There's also a key to room 201 at the Holiday Inn. The room's paid for a week. Anything else?"

"No, ma'am, nothing at all. It'll be a pleasure workin with you, partner," he said as he snapped the suitcase shut and picked it up.

Then, he turned and extended his hand to Arliss, saying, "Good luck to you, L.D.," and, as Arliss took his hand to shake, the old man pulled him close and whispered in his ear, "You lucky son of a bitch."

In a matter of seconds, Ardmore was gone, his truck sputtering and coughing up the hill leading out of the hollow and Arliss and Jackie were again bathed in darkness.

"I guess you two had this all planned out." Arliss questioned the shapeless form moving toward him in the dark.

"You could say there were negotiations, yes," she whispered as the robe slipped off her shoulders and slid to the ground at her feet.

"Am I working now?" he asked softly.

"Yes," she replied huskily.

"What do you want me to do, ma'am?"

"Take off those ridiculous pants and fuck me again." Her nipples were grazing his chest and her breath was hot on his cheek.

"Yes, ma'am," he answered as her curves flowed into his arms and her lips sought his in the quiet stillness of the night. 



Pass the Pussy



Since about the beginning of high school, Mike and I have been best friends. We used to get together a lot, but between work and going to college we only see each other maybe once every two weeks. A couple of months ago I got a call from him asking me if he could come over right away. From the distress in his voice I could tell this wasn't just a routine visit, something was definitely wrong. "Sure, come on over. We'll go shoot some pool or something," I told him. "No, not tonight," He said quickly. "Ok, just come over then," I told him. 

He doesn't live far from me so he was over in about ten minutes. I let him in and right away he asked, "Is anyone else here?" and looked around my apartment. "No, just us. What's going on?" He looked really upset. "Lets sit down," He said. So we went to sit down. He sat on the couch and so did I, but when I did he got up and moved to the chair across from me. I looked at him to try to figure out for myself what might be wrong. He is a tall guy about 6' 4" or so with brown hair and is fairly skinny. I wouldn't say good looking but certainly not bad. 

After a few moments of trying to figure out what to say he looked at me and said "Matt, you're a guy. Right?" I gave him a look like "Are you crazy?" but said "What?" He repeated, "You're a guy. Right?" so I said "Yeah," still giving him that look. Then he said something I never expected. "Well, the thing is, I'm not. Anymore at least." "What the hell are you talking about?" I said, more confused than ever. "I'm not a guy any more, I am a chick," "Are you saying you're gay or that you're some kind of cross dresser?" "Neither, I, I, I don't..." He was trembling and looked like he was about to cry so I said "Stop, ok now start from the beginning." "All right." 

So he began to tell me the story. The night before he had picked up some girl, and after a few drinks they ended up having sex at his apartment. Only thing weird was that she wouldn't allow him to take her shirt off. So they had sex once wearing everything but pants and underwear. Afterwards they went to sleep. When he woke up she was gone. He didn't think anything of it, so he got up to go to work. That's when he noticed something was wrong, very wrong. He ran to his bathroom, pulled down his pants and it was gone. His dick had disappeared and in its place was a cunt. He almost feinted. After a few long hours of fear and disbelief, he had called me and come over. 

After he had told me his story I sat back with my hand over my mouth and studied my friend. He wasn't near crying anymore but still shaking. I tried to figure out if he would go through this whole act just to trick me, or if this seemingly impossible story could be true. I studied his crotch for a few moments considering the latter. There had been a few times when I had seen his dick briefly, school showers, one crazy nude dash, so I knew he had had a penis. I figured he was lying so I called his bluff. "Yeah, right. Then let's see it." "I'm telling you I'm not lying." "Yeah ok then let's have a look" "All right." He stood up and dropped his pants. Underneath he was wearing boxers. "Are you ready?" "Yeah let's just get the show on the road." He pulled down his boxers and spread his legs slightly. Between his thighs was a brown haired cunt. I almost fell over. "What the fuck? No, no, no, you've tucked it back or something." "I wish, look," he said opening his legs a little more and turning a circle. 

"What the hell!" I exclaimed as Mike sat back on the couch pants and boxers still around his legs. I stared at his cunt for a few seconds, then covered my eyes, shook my head and looked again but it was still there. I closed my eyes and said "How did this happen?" "I told you already." "And this happened last night? Were you drunk out of your mind and had some elective surgery?" "I think I would have chosen something better to have done." Then something occurred to me "Do you have tits now too?" "No, look, nothing," he said pulling he shirt up. His chest was lightly covered with hair and his "breasts" looked normal size same as his nipples. "So what do you think happened?" I asked. "That chick did something to me" he pulled his shirt down and was reaching for his pants and boxers. "Wait!" I said, still blown away and curious. I just stared at it for a while but I could tell he wanted to cover it up. "So what's it like?" I said just to delay him. "I don't know, weird." 

Both Mike and I were straight, and we'd both had sex plenty of times, but I never had any real chance to study a cunt like this before. "So, have you, like, done anything with it yet?" I asked as I moved a little closer. "Well I touched it a little, just to see if it was real." "Yeah right," I said as I got up from my chair to get closer. "Well, maybe I did a little exploring." "Can I have a better look?" I asked. "Well I guess so..." I gently opened his legs and he moved his ass near the edge of the couch. 

On my knees between my best friends legs I stared at his cunt. His cunt lips where open slightly. The hair above was a rough triangle shape. It was thin and brown but not particularly curly. My mouth nearly watered. "Can I touch it?" I asked, not bothering to look up at my friend. "Yes, please," was his answer and I was already moving my hand towards it. I opened the lips and stuck one finger in. Mike was already moist and he gasped a bit as my finger entered. I pulled my finger out and was tempted to put it in my mouth, but hesitated. I started to think about exactly whose cunt I was touching. These thoughts were quickly pushed out of my brain though by my overwhelming lust. So I sucked on my finger. There wasn't much but enough that I knew I wanted more. I began using both my hands to explore every inch of Mike's sweet cunt. After several minutes I was simply concentrating on his clit. And after only a minute or so more Mike's legs shook and he let out a long deep "Oh gawd!" 

Some of his cum gathered at his cunt lips. I used my fingers to get some and then licked it from them. I didn't want to think about who this actually was again so I didn't look up when I asked, "What was it like?" After a moment, of thought or of ecstasy I couldn't tell, his said simply "Different." "Different better or worse?" "Better, much better." "Good, then you want mind if I try something else." Without hesitating I moved my face forward and began to lick his cunt. Mike moaned and opened his legs up further. I braced my hands on the bottom of the couch, below the cushions. Once I had sucked out all of the cum from his first orgasm, I began to lick every inch of his now very moist cunt. I had done this before with girls, and was told I was very good. Mike had held out for five minutes so I stopped playing around and started nibbling and sucking his clit. Barely 30 seconds later he came again, clenching his legs around my head. I kept licking until there was no more cum I could get. 

I sat back in the chair across from Mike, my face wet with his cum. He rested his head on the back of the couch, pants down, legs open displaying his wet cunt. I wiped the cum from my mouth only to lap it up. We both sat silently for about ten minutes. Looking at Mike's cunt all wet from my tongue bath got me really hard. I wanted his cunt bad but knowing whom it belonged to was bothering me again. It would be really weird to have sex with me best friend. I didn't know if I could mentally do it. But I had already gone this far. Two words kept creeping into my head, fuck it. What would Mike say though? Fuck it. Things would never be the same, but they probably wouldn't anyway. Fuck it. That was enough for me. "Mike, this might be really strange but..." Mike look right at me and smiled. Already knowing what I was going to say, he got up off the couch and lay on the floor. Then he look at me like "Ya, come on" and I didn't wait. Mike kicked off his pants and boxers from around his ankles and I started to pull off my pants. He put his legs up and his head back after taking one look at me holding my dick. My dick is about six and a half inches long but pretty thick. I've never been ashamed or had any complaints. I knelt down between his legs with my very hard dick in hand. I started to slide the head up and down Mike's slit. I could see him put his hands to his head and run them through his hair. "Ready" I asked. Mike gave a barely audible "yes" and I slowly started pushing in. I had just the head in when he yells out "Ouch, what are you doing" and looked at me all confused. "Did you expect it to come with the cherry pre-broken?" I asked. After a second of thought he said, "Oh, I guess not. Keep going." I looked at his cunt with my dick head in it. He was tight but I didn't see any blood. I kept slowly pushing until it was fully in, then all the way back out. "Well," I asked. "That wasn't to bad. Keep going." I did, slowly in and out three or four more times when he said, "Go faster." I couldn't wait any longer anyway. I started up pretty quickly and kept up the pace for a couple minutes. Mike started to moan, so I went faster. A minute later I could tell from his moaning he was close. I'd been close since I'd entered his tight virgin cunt but had been holding off. I waited until he finally let out an "Oh ya" and then let myself go. It must have been one of my longest and best orgasms ever. 

After we both came done from our euphoria I slid out. I ran my hand over my dick and licked the mixture of come from it. At the same time Mike had his hands between his legs, and was some licking them clean. I pulled my pants back on, as did Mike, and lay on the floor next to him. Staring at the ceiling I said "Oh man," and Mike agreed, "Oh man." That was the last thing we said before we both fell asleep. 

Next: We wake up.