1 comments/  140112 views/  38 favorites

How Porn Broke Into Tamara Divine

By: emc_bobwhite



Author's Note: This one has not been an easy one to write. It's taken longer than I wanted, but it's finally done. Flibinite, Born Blitzed, and William Pratt deserve credit for their help in editing this story, so if you do find a grammatical error, blame them—it's their fault. ;-) Feedback is appreciated; tell me if you love it, like it, or hate it. 

************************

In her three previous years at Central Illinois University, Tamara had never attended any of the school–sponsored "Get to know each other" galas, as she mockingly called them. She had lived in dorms for those years, and having living quarters assigned was just one nice thing about this particular school. But, she wanted some room to stretch for her senior year—this was her fourth year of an involved Business curriculum, and it promised to be the hardest yet. 

So, she found an apartment in nearby Springfield; but by her estimation, she'd run out of funds several weeks prior to her finals. She knew she needed a roommate, and this was the best place to find one. 

As she drove to the event, she was concerned about her appearance. How do people dress for these things? she asked herself. She'd dressed up enough to impress but not so much as to appear overdressed; her long, blonde hair was done up in a nice ponytail and she wore a button–up blouse and some really nice jeans. 

When she got to the parking lot and exited her car, she glanced down and straightened her outfit. At least I won't intimidate any girls with my chest, she thought as she fixed her clothes and walked to the door. You'd think that I'd be used to being this skinny by now. 

She walked through the doorway and into the main lobby, which was a sea of smiling faces. After meeting more people than she could ever hope to remember, she wandered over to where, according to her invitation, she could find women seeking roommates. And that's when she met Jeff. 

"Pardon me," she said as she bumped into him. He was not as tall as she was—she was nearly six feet tall and skinny, he was a few inches shorter and well–muscled under his casual clothing. Reminds me of John... mmmm, I'd like to climb this mountain, she thought. She took in the sight of this stranger, the one who was openly leering at her—and for some strange reason, that was not bothering her in the least. 

"It's my fault. With a lovely lady like you walking around, I should watch where you go!" he joked. It was corny, but Tamara found it immensely amusing, and they began to talk. 

She didn't know how long they talked, or what they talked about. She did mention that she was in the market for a roommate, however. He, of course, jokingly offered his services—and when she laughingly rejected that suggestion, he proposed that she meet someone he had just talked to, a girl named Anita Petershein, who was a transfer from a school in upstate New York and who was awash in old money. 

He introduced them. After just a little bit of small talk, they seemed to "click"—to Tamara, it was almost like meeting a best friend for the first time. Seeing that all was going well, Jeff gave made an excuse to leave so they could get to know each other. Before he left though, he handed Tamara his business card, explaining that he was a talent scout and that if she needed any extra money, he might be able to set something up for her—if she didn't mind modeling. She had enjoyed being with him, and now trusted him enough, so gave him her cell phone number without hesitation. She couldn't quite remember, but she thought Jeff had kissed her goodbye before he left. 

Not long after she got home, Tamara decided to turn in for the evening. Her thoughts soon turned to the kiss she still wasn't totally sure Jeff had given her. Definitely a better kisser than John, she mused as she got in bed naked, something she never normally did. Thinking of her boyfriend, she let her hands roam her tiny tits (flat chest doesn't always mean small nipples; hers were erect and waiting to be pinched) and finally work their way down to her pussy. Several grunts later, she drifted off into sleep. 

Tamara called Anita the next day, and they agreed to meet at a local coffee shop to talk some more and see if they would be, as Anita put it, "compatible roommates." At the shop, Tamara and Anita really hit it off. Anita was a local to Springfield and commuted to school since it was so close. This was music to Tamara's ears, because even though she'd been at CIU for three pair of semesters, she had never really taken in much of the local scene. Anita laughed at this. 

"You're from Chicago, and you think you're missing a scene here? You're kidding, right?" Anita asked. 

"Hey, when you've done as much as I've done for the past few sessions, any activity is welcome—even skinny dipping at the lake," Tamara retorted, starting to giggle herself. 

"Trust me, that's not as fun as you might think. Not with the Boy Scout camp on the other side of the lake... hahaha those little fuckers and their canoes. That was the last time I ever did that! I wonder if they get a merit badge for Peeping on Cheerleaders...." 

"Well, at least you taught them something!" Tamara said, now laughing so hard at Anita's anecdote (which was making Anita blush) that she could not longer speak coherently. Several people looked in their direction at the disturbance to the normally quiet store. 

"C'mon, Tamara. I'll show you the town. You have five minutes, don't ya?" Anita said, getting up from the table. "My car's outside." 

Tamara smiled warmly back at her new friend. "Sure. Let's see what this town has to offer. While we're out," Tamara said, getting a little nervous at how to bring up the subject of rooming together (Just say it—she was there looking for roommates just like you were! she thought), "... uh, do you think we could, you know, stop by my place? I need to..." 

"Show me the place you want to room with me at, right?" Anita said, a bit more seriously but still smiling. 

"Uh, yeah." 

"Sure, no problem. I'd love to see it. Personally," she said, quieting to a whisper, "I can't wait to move out of my parent's house. And, they even say they'll put up my part of the rent if I find a place." 

It felt like a million pounds had been lifted from Tamara's shoulders. Relieved, she said as they walked out of the shop, "Call me Tammy." 

"And my friends call me Anne," Anita said as they got to her car. 

*****

"Tammy, some guy's on the phone!" Anita hollered to Tamara, who was taking a shower. "Says his name is Jeff Derita!" Anita couldn't help but feel a little quiver of giddiness at the fact that, for the first time in the few months it'd been since she'd moved in with Tamara, a guy was calling for her roommate. 

Tamara, suddenly remembering him, stepped out of the shower and draped a towel around herself as she picked up the bathroom extension. "I've got it, thanks! Hello, this is Tamara Kubinski, is this Jeff, the model guy?" When she heard him laugh, Tamara realized her double–entendre. 

"Ha! Yes, it's me. Listen, you remember our brief conversation, right? About me looking for models?" 

"Uh, I guess so... funny, but until I heard Anne say your name, I forgot all about it... I guess I thought you forgot all about me...." 

Again he laughed."Lord, no. But, I have finally found something for you. It's a four–hour shoot, and you'll be in a bathing suit. It's for a catalogue for tall and slender women. You'll be perfect. What do you say?" 

"Well, I have some studying..." 

"It pays $500 cash. Under the table, so you don't have to claim it or anything." 

"Well... do I have to bring a swimsuit?" Tamara asked, suddenly interested. 

"No, we'll provide from wardrobe. Just bring your pretty self. We take care of makeup, hair, clothes, whatever. But... uh, you will want to get waxed... Brazilian style, if you know what I mean. Pretty much standard for models who do these kinds of shoots." 

Tamara blushed, but said, "Of course... I guess I understand. When?" 

"Well, before the shoot preferably..." he started. 

She interrupted him. "No, silly. When should I show up for the shoot? And where is it?" 

Once more, the laughter. "Of course. It's our studio at 1030 West Main Street in Carlinville. Be there at 8 AM sharp, this Thursday. Top floor." 

What luck! No classes on Thursdays, thought Tamara as she agreed and hung up the phone. 

*****

When Thursday rolled around, Tamara borrowed Anita's car and made the trip south to where the shoot was scheduled. Once inside, she rode the elevator to the top floor. As soon as the doors opened, she was greeted by stylists, wardrobe people, the photographer, Jeff, and... another woman in a bikini. 

"Hi, I'm Wendy. We're shooting together!" the other woman, who embraced Tamara as soon as she saw her, chimed. Tamara found Wendy's hands to be rather warm, and for some reason, mildly arousing—Wendy was a pretty girl, but Tamara figured it had more to do with not having sex in months than anything else. Wendy then whispered warmly into Tamara's ear, "We're going to have some fun today, babe. First time?" 

Tamara was definitely getting a little turned on, and her brain tried to rationalize the situation as someone took her hair out of its ponytail holder. OK, that's normal... no sex in months because John is in North Carolina; this girl is hot and even a straight girl like me sees that; I'm nervous and she's so nice... mmm... wake up, stupid! The other model's voice and breathing, so close to her ear, was having the same effect as her hands, which were roaming Tamara's back. 

"Uh... mmmm, no, I've had fun before." A few nervous giggles later, Tamara introduced herself to the semi–naked girl who was still hugging her. "I'm Tamara Kubinski, but my friends call me Tammy." 

"Well, nice to meet you! You're in good hands. I'll see you on set!" Wendy said, pecking Tamara on the cheek and squeezing her body snugly before letting go. 

Tamara wasn't sure, but she almost thought the kiss had given her a tiny, little orgasm. Now you're just being silly, she told herself as the people directed her to her dressing area. 

Minutes later, she was made–up, stripped, styled, and squeezed into a teenie–weenie yellow bikini. She barely had enough time to properly adjust the itsy–bitsy garment over her body before the shoot started. 

It was little more than the two women prancing around and frolicking about on the faux beach set, complete with beach towels, beach balls, sand, umbrellas, and a nice ocean horizon backdrop. Several shots required the ladies to embrace each other. Tamara figured it was OK; she'd seen a lot of catalogues with those kinds of pictures so it didn't strike her as particularly odd. 

What was concerning to her, though, were Wendy's undeniably magic hands. They felt good anywhere they touched, rubbed, grabbed, or—a couple of times—spanked her. She really wasn't sure about the spanking or grabbing; she'd never seen girls spanking other girls or grabbing each other's asses in non–porno pictures. But, the spread was for a company that marketed bikinis, she rationalized. She rarely looked at any catalogues that sold only bikinis. 

Besides... and maybe it is because I haven't had any sex for so long... but damn if this doesn't feel good! I know what I'm gonna do as soon as I'm alone for a few minutes tonight, Tamara thought, almost reveling now in her feelings of excitement. No sooner did she finish that thought, though, than she noticed that the bottom of her bikini was very cold. 

It's the fan... it's blowing on the wet spot I've been working on all afternoon! she thought frantically. She hoped the yellow color wouldn't betray her obvious arousal any more than her clearly noticeable nipples would. She couldn't remember when her nipples had popped, but they were achingly hard and had been for some time. As the last few hours went by, she knew that waiting till she was home to "take care of business" began to seem a loftier and loftier goal. 

As the shoot wrapped up, the photographer shook each lady's hand, thanked them for being so beautiful and wonderful (Wendy, as soon as he was gone, whispered to Tamara that they always said that), and as soon as she could, she ran back to her little dressing area—and to the bathroom attached to it. 

Even though her dressing room consisted of little more than a small bathroom and a few tall barriers for privacy surrounding that bathroom (really, it was more like an office cubicle), she knew that she had to do something to quell the searing calidity that was threatening to burn through her bikini bottom... if it hadn't been completely soaked with her juices. 

She slid the bottom of her bathing suit down to her ankles, twirled around, and sat on the toilet in one swift motion. She quickly worked one foot free of the damp garment so she could spread her legs and, biting her lip so she wouldn't make a sound, slid a finger into herself with ease. Her pussy cried for more attention and she added another finger, using whatever part of her hand or thumb she could to rub against her needy clitoris. 

Just as she grunted in subdued but needed relief, she heard a man—she figured it was Jeff—ask, "So, did you have fun? Think about doing it again?" 

She blushed four shades of red, afraid he had heard her grunt. It was quiet, but Tamara knew that women who make that sound do it only for one reason—and she'd rather not have anyone know she'd been so turned on by playing around with a scantily clad woman all day that she had to hurry up and frig off in the nearest bathroom as soon as she was alone. 

Thankfully, as she walked out of the bathroom in the bikini, he wasn't looking at her—he was counting out five $100 bills. 

Slightly flushed with the arousal that had grown within her during the previous four hours, she quietly said, "Uhm... sure, I guess. It was fun. But, I have to go, so..." 

"Yes, of course. Here's your money. But, before you leave, I want to give you something else. Please don't move; this'll be over in a minute and you won't remember it anyway." Tamara complied and watched nervously as his hand went to her mouth, covering it. 

Normally, she'd pull away from him, to free her mouth and maybe even scream. But, his hand was pulsing with some kind of energy—at least, that's all she could think it was; it wasn't physically pulsating but she could just barely perceive some movement. Whatever it was, it seemed to be tied in with her not being able to move, though. But for some reason she wasn't frightened; and, when he took his hand away and held up a mirror, she saw that she was unharmed. 

"Use your mouth well, Tammy. Enjoy it as much as others will," he cryptically remarked as he walked over to where the photographer was gathering his equipment. Tamara, nervous and a little afraid, quickly went to the elevator. By the time it got to the ground floor, she indeed had forgotten about his hand on her mouth. 

But, the arousal was creeping back. The memory of the shoot was still fresh and it still was turning her on. And, there was something else. 

Getting caught... shit, did he hear me? Did he know what I was... oh god... oh... her mind ran while she got into the car and drove back to Springfield. The more she thought about how she almost got caught, the more horny she got. It just felt so... dirty. And for some reason, right at that moment, dirty felt right. 

Running into her apartment, she glanced around and saw that Anita wasn't in. 

Thank god, she thought. I'm so damn horny I don't know if I'll make it to my room! 

Sprinting into her room, she quickly undressed and jumped onto the bed. She got on her knees, burying her face in the pillows, and entered her wet pussy from underneath with a soft moan. Moving that hand to her clit, she moved her other hand over her back and fingered herself from above. 

She rocked and bucked in her doggy position (which she never used to masturbate, but the need was so great that it just seemed right this time), one hand attacking her clit from between her legs and two fingers from the other plumbing her depths from above her ass, focusing on her boyfriend John—muscular, sweaty, manly John. They'd fucked several times last summer, but he could not afford to visit during most of the school year. 

As her climax neared, she mentally drew a picture of him... his short, black hair; his muscular chest; that trim tummy; that nice blue bikini bottom that just seemed a little too damp in the crotch.... 

"Oh fuck!" Tamara screamed as she continued to work her clit. "No no no! I want John, I want J... oh... oh..." Try as she might, she could no longer conjure up John's image in her mind. All she could see was Wendy. 

She could smell that shoulder–length hair, and imagine grabbing a handful of it and holding her head still while she... 

Stop it! What are you thinking about!! Tamara screamed inside. 

Her self–answer came soon enough. There's nothing wrong with checking her out a little. Those boobs look perfectly squeezable, like her ass. I bet they even taste good. I wonder if her nipples taste like her areolae, if she jumps a little when I bite them or if she just moans.... 

The image of the beautiful model she'd just taken hundreds of pictures with permeated her imagination. She imagined it was Wendy fingering her to an orgasm—and to top it off, Tamara found herself unable to stop masturbating. She was so close to releasing a climax that was hours in the making that she could not pry her hands away from her body for long enough to get that woman out of her fantasy. 

"UNGH!" she grunted as she collapsed onto the bed, sweaty and spent. She slowly drew her hands from her crotch and lay on the bed, trying to figure out what in the hell had just happened with her little daydream encounter with John... and Wendy. 

Sated for the moment, Tamara turned over and lay on her bed, relaxing and trying to sort out what had just happened. For the first time in hours, her arousal didn't return and she thought she'd dealt with the last of it for a while. 

Later that night, Anita and Tamara decided to watch a movie. It was one of the "chick flicks" they both liked. It was, as Anita told Tamara, a one–bottle movie; this meant that Anita and Tamara would drink at least one bottle of wine during the course of the movie. Sure enough, when the DVD player stopped at the end of the movie, their refrigerator was one and a half bottles of wine lighter and the movie channel they had been watching was showing a late–night soft–core porn. Late–night, soft–core, lesbian porn. 

Looking at the women, Tamara found herself getting aroused—again. 

Thinking about girls twice in one day? What the fuck is this about?? I'm straight, dammit! part of her fumed. She looked over to the other side of the couch, resting her eyes rested on Anita—whose body was driving her imagination crazy. Why haven't I noticed how cute she is before? Tamara wondered. 

She had to admit that Anita was hot... for a girl. She was shorter than Tamara and had long, dark brown hair. The hair matched her beautiful eyes, eyes Tamara found herself wanting to see flutter shut as her hands covered her roommate's breasts and squeezed... 

Shit, not again! Stop it!! Tamara's shrinking inner voice yelled. Instead, her imagination turned back to the heartbreaker coed sitting next to her. She wanted to grab a little of that hair and pull her friend in so she could introduce Anita's lips to her own. 

I can't help it if my mouth wants to kiss ever inch of her perfectly dark complexion... damn, she's exotic as hell and I've never even noticed... and she's certainly enjoying what's on TV, maybe... maybe... Tamara thought. 


How Porn Broke Into Tamara Divine Ch. 02



(click!) 

"OK, that does it for that roll. Make yourselves comfortable, ladies. We only have an hour or so left," the photographer announced, not even looking at Tamara or Julie. 

In itself, the fact that he (or any man) could look away from the ladies was an admirable thing—Julie's breasts were breathtaking. Tamara's were perky and had been growing lately for reasons she still couldn't understand, but Julie's were perfect. They were full, but not too big for her frame; round, but not circular (which would give them away as fakes), and had just enough jiggle to draw the eye of anyone who saw them. 

Tamara certainly was having trouble looking away from them. Even when she did look away, she pictured them, bare, in her mind. Thankfully, other than the shots she'd done by herself and the dozen or so shots where the photographer told her to look at the camera, she'd been allowed to practically gawk at them all afternoon. 

Tamara was getting a little tired, but her arousal was keeping her going like a potent drug. Even with all her recent toying around with Anita and Emily, she'd never seen or tried to see another woman naked. She'd chalked her brief flashes of Sapphic desire up to just that: brief flashes, something not even worth worrying about. 

Julie ran her fingers through her black hair and over her tits, cupping and almost playing with them in plain sight of anyone in the studio who happened to look in her direction. Watching the display made Tamara realize that she was extremely attracted to Julie. All day long, whenever the brunette would have to pick something up off the floor, she'd bend at the waist if her ass was facing Tamara. And if she hadn't known better, Tamara would have sworn that Julie knew that this was making Tamara rather horny. 

Thinking about how beautiful Julie was and how she was perhaps trying to get her attention, Tamara watched Julie walk in front of her and pick up... well, Tamara didn't know what it was; she was too busy checking out Julie's ass... again. This time, once Julie stood up, Tamara saw her hands run over a few parts of her body, paying a little extra attention to her nipples. It was a quick motion, and very discrete—but clearly deliberate. 

Tamara saw that Julie's hands caused tiny goosebumps wherever they touched her body. She saw her nipples perk up instantly with another brief grope of her melons, and even saw her stifle a little moan. Then Julie caressed her sides, doing a barely noticeable seductive dance in the process. Finally, her hands came to a rest on her firm ass. 

A smacking sound shook Tamara out of her trance. Realizing she'd been staring at Julie in total enchantment, she shook her head and heard another smacking sound. Coming to her senses, she figured that Julie had slapped her own ass, which she was rubbing by the time Tamara was fully back from la–la land. Tamara looked up and saw Julie grinning at her, winking before she looked away. 

Why am I staring at this woman? Why am I watching her spank her ass? Why is it turning me on?? That thought caused another to break the surface of her mind—a thought that she'd been suppressing all day. Her gaze once more focused on the raven–haired beauty, she thought, Do I turn her on? 

As if Tamara had spoken the thought, Julie spun around and caught her staring again. Swaying her hips, Julie walked over to where the coed was sitting. Unfortunately for Tamara, both were wearing a designer thong that was jet black—it was impossible to tell if Julie was aroused by anything, much less by Tamara alone. 

But maybe it's a good thing these are black... she can't tell how wet I am, Tamara reasoned. 

Julie bent so she could whisper into Tamara's ear. "Hey," she quietly said, "how 'ya doin'? Hangin' in there?" 

Julie had not spoken much during the shoot and she and Tamara had not come into physical contact with each other except for a few shots—it had been quite different from the last shoot in that regard. But with the warm air of Julie's breath melting her from the inside out, Tamara decided she just had to touch Julie... and she wanted Julie to touch her. A wicked smile crossed her face—she knew she could make it happen. And, doing it here would be easily explainable, both to anyone she knew who saw the photos and to herself. 

"Don't space out on me, hon. This last part is gonna be... racy, if you catch my drift," Julie added. Tamara's pussy quivered with every syllable. 

Her arousal reaching new heights, Tamara put her mouth practically on Julie's ear and said, "Just be sure to keep those hands where they belong, Julie." Tamara pulled back enough to let Julie see her wink, and then pinched her own nipple, making it stand at attention. 

Julie laughed quietly, looked around to make sure nobody saw, and reached down to caress Tamara's breast. When her hand made contact, Tamara's eyes almost popped out of her head in surprise at the intense sensation—and she came the instant Julie twisted her nipple. A moment later, the photographer announced that he was ready and, on her way back to the main set, Julie turned and smiled at Tamara, who was panting and hoping that it wasn't obvious that she'd just cum in her thong. 

But she only touched my tit! Tamara thought as she gathered herself enough for the final photos. 

Just like it'd been with Wendy last time, Tamara found Julie's hands to be magic. Several shots had Julie holding Tamara's tits while standing behind her. The photographer was giving directions the whole time—telling them how to look at each other, how to look at the camera, etc. And whenever Julie's hands were on Tamara's tits (and a few glorious times when they grasped Tamara by the soaked part of whatever thong she happened to be wearing at the time), Tamara didn't need to be told that she should look at Julie with unbridled lust. 

When the shoot was finally over, the photographer made some comment about "melting the film" and Tamara, thickly drunk with her arousal, went to her dressing area as quickly as she could, trying not to draw attention to herself. As soon as she was alone, she stripped off the last thing she'd been wearing—a soaked pink panty that was now hers, a perk of doing a lingerie spread—and, with her back to the curtain that served as a door to her dressing room, ran both hands to her pussy. 

Not bothering to sit down, she held herself open with the fingers of her left hand, using her middle finger to rub her clit. Her right hand worked around until she could get one, and then two, fingers inside her sex. The wet, smacking sounds she made while she fucked herself obscured the gentle sound of the curtain opening and closing behind her. 

"Now that position looks too awkward. Let me help you, hon. You're too hot, you know that? Let me try to cool you down a tad...." It was Julie, speaking lowly into her ear. Her words shattered any fear or surprise that would have sparked a defensive move by Tamara; they were like white–hot swords that sliced away any resistance Tamara might have had even on her best day. Tamara's hands fell to her sides as Julie's took over. 

Tamara had noticed how impossibly arousing Julie's (and Wendy's, for that matter) fingers felt on her, but she was unprepared for how they felt in her. Tamara could feel Julie's perfect tits mashed up against her back, and her fingers worked her pussy wickedly. They made circular, rubbing motions around her clit, followed by quick plunges into her pussy. When Julie wiggled her fingers inside Tamara, she nearly came, but the fingers would withdrawal and the dirty cycle would repeat. Julie went back and forth like that a few times before finally using her thumb directly on Tamara's clit while her fingers were still deep inside her, bringing her to a powerful (but too–quick) orgasm. She even squirted a little, cumming all over Julie's hand. 

Tamara moaned and Julie covered her mouth with her now cum–coated hand. Using her other hand to finger Tamara, Julie whispered to Tamara, "We don't want to be disturbed, do we?" 

Tamara sucked her own juice off Julie's finger in response. 

"Ahem. Excuse me, are you decent in there, Tamara?" Jeff's voice rang loud and clear, and it cut through the haze of pure lustful bliss that had encompassed Tamara. Julie took her hands away and turned Tamara around, kissing her quickly before leaving. Tamara stood motionless, coming to her senses. She half–heard Julie talking to Jeff; she telling him something along the lines of "I was just congratulating her on what a great job she did." Not wanting to be caught naked and freshly fingered, Tamara put on her robe and turned to face the curtain. 

"Is that you Jeff? Come on in, I'm dressed," Tamara shouted through the "door." 

Jeff came in, carrying a check. "I hope a cashier's check is OK; I'm nervous about sending you out with $2000 in cash... well, I'm actually nervous carrying it around myself. But, if you need..." 

Tamara interrupted him. "It's fine. Just lay it there on the table, I have to finish getting... hey, what are you doing?" 

Jeff had grabbed Tamara's wrists. She tried to struggle but found her arms too weak to move against Jeff. He brought her palms together, and he moved his hands to cover hers. His hands felt hot, and almost vibrated. 

"Don't worry. This takes about a minute. Think happy thoughts, Tammy. And remember that people crave human contact; in particular, they love it when you touch them. Especially," he added, "pretty girls." 

Tamara blinked a few times, wondering why she was standing in her dressing room and not getting ready to leave. She could have sworn she'd been talking to Jeff, and the payment was on her little table. Shrugging off the forgotten lapse in time, she took her robe off and got dressed. She didn't give her confusion much thought, and had forgotten it completely by the time she was halfway to Springfield. 

*****

A few weeks after the topless photo shoot, Tamara could no longer deny that, for some reason, various things about here were gradually, but definitely, changing. 

At first, she'd passed off her slight breast growth as something to do with her period, even though they had not been irregular at all. She'd given up on that theory early on, but was still uneasy about why they were getting bigger. As the weeks had passed by, she'd found the previously comfortable bras she'd bought before her second photo shoot were starting to feel a little tight. They still fit, but they pushed her breasts together and up in a way that created delicious cleavage whenever she wore a low–cut top. 

Just thinking about showing off her chest when she was getting dressed every day made her nips pop, and they tended to remain that way almost all day long. She had been wearing anything she could to display her assets, and was hoping for warmer weather so she could wear really revealing outfits. It was around the time that she first started noticing her hair getting darker (and, thanks to a selfish, hair–loving brush, shorter) that she also started to think about seducing someone. Not just anyone... seducing a female. 

She didn't know how she should go about doing that, at first, but figured showing off her tits wasn't the best way to go... unless she was going after a lesbian. And somehow, she knew she wanted to be with someone who wasn't more experienced with girls than she was. That was too bad, too, because to Tamara, her breasts just begged to be looked at, touched, licked, cupped, squeezed... 

As she sat in the library, trying to study, she shook her head to clear her thoughts. Damn... thinking about my tits again? Jesus, I'm never going to finish this assignment at this... oooh, there she is. Right on time.... 

Tamara watched the goth chick she'd been eyeing for the past couple of weeks wander, book in hand, over to a secluded corner. She sat back on a chair and started to read, crossing her fishnet–clad legs in the process. Tamara licked her lips and wondered what it would be like to take the girl's knee–high boots off and slide her hands up the material of that hosiery. She had come to appreciate the way the girl's creamy white skin contrasted blazingly with the dark material of the fishnets and her scarlet red hair. 

Burning with shame, Tamara reached under the table and slid her hand into her sweat pants. They were loose enough to allow her easy access, and she hadn't bothered to wear any underwear. She never did when she went to the library anymore. Her finger sizzled as it grazed her skin, burning her flesh with intense pleasure every inch of its short trail from her waist to her glistening slit. 

She was hoping that if she got off quickly, she'd have enough relief from her constant (as of late) sexual tension to sate her for another day. Tamara was finding it harder and harder to fight the compulsion to use her hands, mouth, and tongue to take an unsuspecting woman to bed, and these quick (but delicious) little self–induced orgasms were the only things keeping her from falling to temptation. Even a small climax would reduce her arousal a little, and when she wasn't so horny, the temptation to use her new wiles to slither into another girl's panties was reduced to a point where it was easier to dismiss as a fantasy. An interesting fantasy with wonderful possibilities, but just a fantasy. 

Tamara had realized quickly that her hands worked like hot irons of pure rapture on her body the night after the photo shoot. Everywhere they made contact with her skin was lit aflame with aching desire, and when she touched herself, it was like her body was one huge pussy. She savored every light stroke of her hand and shook to the core with blind passion when she touched herself roughly. As Tamara sat there in the library, working her magic on her own body, she also thrilled at the publicness of her masturbation. It was just so dirty, and that made it hotter. 

Why am I doing this? she asked herself while she looked with dire attention at the girl across the room. I could get caught.... 

Because... it feels... so... good, her mind answered, over and over again. 

But it's wrong... I'm in the library... and... and... oh god, oh fuck she's looking at me! She knows... oh fuck, she... knows... my hands are beneath the table and she knows what... oh, what I'm.... Tamara thought as she clenched her teeth to suppress any motion that might give her orgasm away. The girl looked back down at her book a moment after Tamara's climax peaked, leaving Tamara to wonder if the girl had really seen what she was doing. 

And while Tamara pondered that, she slowly began to realize that today, fantasy was about to become reality. This girl was going to be the first. 

"The first what?" she whispered to herself. You know what, her playful side answered. Her horniness returned, and the goth girl's fate was sealed. Tamara was banking on the effects her suggestions had been having on people (especially women) lately. She only half–believed there was anything to this "ability," but the heat flowing through her body pushed her to take the chance. Reassuring herself, she thought, You can't fail, she'll be yours at a touch and a kiss. 

Today's the day. She's... uh, mine? Does that sound right? Dammit, I don't care. I have to do this. Tamara noticed that once again, she seemed to be conversing with herself in her head—and that made her wonder if she was going crazy. But as soon as that thought appeared it was smothered by her growing arousal. 

Watching the girl get up and walk to the stacks, Tamara pulled her slick hand out of her pants and wiped them on the soft material. She'd struggled with this long enough. It was time. Time to see... make sure... if... oh God, if it works. Steeling her will to her purpose, she got up and walked to where the goth chick had entered the massive bookshelves. 

It's time Gothie and I had a little... chat. Tamara giggled at how naughty and playful that sounded, and was promptly hushed. She turned to see a cute angel twirling a lock of blond hair with a finger on her right hand while a finger on her left was pressed to her pursed, hissing lips. Briefly, Tamara considered changing course and taking her instead of, or in addition to, the goth chick. Two girls in one day? 

Her pussy gushed at the thought. It was so unlike her to be anywhere near this forward, even in her high school years. She was pretty sure she was into boys at the time, too, although of late she was having more and more trouble remembering exactly why she'd ever been attracted to any male. I can't believe I'm doing this! I should stop, I should go.... Tamara looked back to the door, it wasn't far away and she still had time to abort her plan. 

No, she told herself. This is driving me nuts. All I can think about are girls. I can tell them to do things and they will... my hands can melt my body like it was ice, they never used to do that... to me... c'mon, Tammy. You've planned this for a week, picked out the girl you want, she's always alone and stays for a few hours... do it. Tamara swallowed hard and walked down the aisle that ran at the far end of the rows and rows of bookshelves. 

Blondie would have to settle for her book. Hopefully, it would be quiet enough for her. 

Time to put this to bed. Maybe it's all in my head, she half–hoped. If it was in her head, she'd just be very embarrassed. If it wasn't in her head, though... well, if it wasn't all her imagination, the goth girl was sure in for a fun surprise. 

She walked past several rows of books. At first, all she saw were a few guys and girls sitting with their backs against the bookshelves, reading dusty tomes that were probably outdated. Then, she found her mark. The redhead was facing away, so Tamara drank in the girl's backside with her eyes until she found her target: the nape of her pale neck, the only part of her body (from her current angle) completely uncovered by clothes. 

Feeling a little vampiric action was in order, Tamara sneaked behind the girl and wrapped her hands lightly around the sides of the girl's neck, sliding them up to her face to stifle the moan she'd pretty much expected at the contact. When the girl stopped moaning, Tamara slid her hands down to embrace her from behind, and kissed and nibbled on her neck. 

"Uhhhhhhhngh," the girl sighed, falling into Tamara's arms. She found her feet when Tamara covered her mouth with her hand, again. Taking a page from Julie's book, she said in a low voice, "We don't want to be disturbed, do we? Shhhh, just go with this... you want me to touch you... you love how I make you feel, this feels sooo good...." 

The goth chick licked Tamara's fingers in response, and Tamara lowered her hand to the girl's tit. She squeezed it and the girl turned her head to kiss Tamara. Tamara had only to lick a line across the girl's tight lips, and the helpless girl's mouth opened to accept Tamara's tongue. The kiss was searingly hot, but Tamara didn't get the intense reaction from the tit–alation she had anticipated. So, she lowered her hands and slid them beneath the girl's jacket and T–shirt. 

When she grazed the girl's stomach, her captive writhed and moaned into Tamara's mouth. Tamara's hands pulled the cups of the girl's bra down, loosing her breasts inside her shirt. Her hands proceeded to massage, cup, and pinch the girl's tits, hoping for a better reaction... and boy, did she get it. 

"Harder, twist... pinch... oooooooh, fuck yeah, harder...." the girl moaned/whispered once her mouth was free. "Harder! Please, harder, don't... don't worry about hurting... ooooooh, yeah, that's it...." 

Tamara happily complied, finding the girl's preference for the rough stuff arousing in and of itself. One of her hands made its way to the gothie's mini, and the girl unzipped it at the hip to allow Tamara easy access to the treasure underneath the garment. It fell to her ankles, exposing her bright red bikini panties. Tamara's hand slipped down the front of her underwear, and when her finger crossed over the girl's clit and plunged inside her hot snatch, the girl started grinding her crotch on her captor's hand, cumming hard and fast. 




How Porn Broke Into Tamara Divine Ch. 02



"Oh god! Can't... stop... oh god, harder, faster... work it... fuck.... don't stop... I'm... cumming..." the girl whispered, trying hard not to be too loud. 

"Reach back and get me off, baby," Tamara said into the girl's ear. 

"I don't... like... girls...." her climaxing victim said as her hand slipped back. "I don't... know what you're... oh god you're like... how are you..." The girl was finding it hard to even whisper; she was still riding a string of short, quick orgasms that didn't seem likely to end anytime soon. 

"Shhhhh, just go with it, you love this, you love it when I touch you and you want to touch me... make me cum, honey," Tamara said, a bit more loudly, but still just above a whisper. She was close enough to bite the other's neck right below her ear, so she did. Tamara was fairly sure she knew the reaction her teeth would educe. 

Any resistance the girl had left dissolved instantly. Her hand wandered back and found its way into Tamara's sweatpants. They slid down and found her sweltering sex, and her fingers started rubbing Tamara's love button as soon as they found it. 

Mmmmmm, I... definitely like... oh, yes, that... Tamara thought, enjoying the feeling of another woman's finger on her pussy. 

Anyone who would have wandered by would have seen an amazing sight: a lingerie model fingering a hot goth chick from behind, and the goth chick, with her hand reaching behind her, returning the favor. For a few moments, their hips moved in near unison as they rode an orgasmic wave that anybody who saw was likely to feel in their loins. A few minutes after the girl started to finger Tamara, the experience was pretty much over. With a few stifled grunts and a flurry of flicking fingers, the women came simultaneously. 

The goth girl's final climax hit her hard, and she tried to take a step forward as her head started to clear. But, she forgot about the skirt still about her ankles. It caused her to trip as she took her first step, and she fell to her hands and knees... 

Tamara straightened her sweatpants and knelt down, slapping the girl hard on the ass. She left her hand there and enjoyed it when the girl moved her ass up and down in concert with her hand; it was like she was afraid Tamara would let go of her rump. Her hips wiggled seductively and Tamara slapped the girl's ass harder, hearing her moan—but not in pain. 

The sound of her hand smacking the chick's butt clicked something in Tamara's head. Coming to her senses at last, she frantically looked around, hoping no one had seen them. Nobody was near, but anyone could have passed by and watched what she had done. 

Tamara got up and turned to walk away from the girl, who was still on her knees and exposing her ass (covered only by a thin, wet, red panty) to anyone who approached from behind. "What... what's your name?" the girl asked Tamara. 

"Tammy," she called back, not even turning around as she walked away. 

"I'm Tina," the goth girl whispered, getting up and pulling her skirt over her hips. "Come here oft... huh?" 

Tina looked around, but she was alone. She ran to the edge of the stacks and saw a pretty girl with shoulder–length brown hair (and blonde highlights) running out of the main library. Tina didn't know whether to follow after her or just try to figure out why in the world she'd fingered some girl in the library. 

Tamara felt the girl's eyes on her all the way out, but dared not look back. This is just getting crazy. I don't think about boys, I only think about girls, they do what I say and I make them... oh god, I touch them and they... they cum.... she thought. She ran from the building out into the unseasonably warm January afternoon. She didn't stop running until she was within sight of her car. 

"I need to sort this out," she said once she'd climbed into it. In no time, she was home. 

*****

Anita looked up from her desk in the living room. "Hey, you're back early. Everything go OK at the library?" 

Tamara had calmed down, but seeing her roommate in a flannel pajama set didn't keep her calm. Of all the women in the world, Tamara had been the most careful around Anita, especially of late. She was a great roommate and friend, and Tamara did not want to ruin it. But what could she tell Anita about her day at the library? She thought, Oh yeah, everything went fine; I practically fucked some girl named Tina in the Astronomy section before I even knew her name, my pussy is still wet and I think that you look absolutely edible in that... oh god, say something! You're staring!! 

"Uh, I guess. Just... couldn't concentrate. It's Friday, I'll catch up on studying tomorrow. It's not like I have any other plans." Anita laughed at Tamara's joke, and Tamara added, "You know, somebody should have told me about the amazing night life at CIU, especially around midterms. I just don't know what a couple of... uh, you know, you and me..." 

Anita giggled. "I think you mean 'you and I,' and if you're looking for a term for us, it's dorks. We're two hot chicks—I mean dorks—sitting in their apartment on a Friday night, wasting all that Springfield has to offer. We could be peeing on the side of the Lincoln Home, but evolution left that for the boys. We're ill–equipped. And we're both going to be here tomorrow night, doing pretty much the same thing. Face it girl—we suck." 

Tamara laughed and Anita scooted her chair back. She raised her arms and stretched, yawning so loud that Tamara followed suit. Rubbing her shoulder, Anita told her friend, "Tammy, I've got to finish this tonight or I'll be busy Saturday and Sunday night for sure, and I haven't quite given up on Sunday as a night off. Grammar are proving to be fun, and this is the third proofread..." 

Tamara raised a hand, stopping Anita. "Yeah yeah, I know. Listen, I'm going to lay down for a few minutes. Maybe later I'll be able to study. Right now I'm just... frazzled." 

"I know what you mean," Anita said. "My neck is starting to hurt, and so is my back. I'll go over this a few more times, and then I have to try to memorize a few formulas for Calculus. I'll be done by... uh, nine or so. That's plenty early. We could do something tonight, if you want. We can go to Mikey's Sportstap, Eine Kleine Nachtklub, Randy's Ribs 'n' Rum... I hear Randy's has a Lady's Night on Friday. There's no reason to completely waste the weekend. So, I still might go out tonight..., wanna come with me?" 

You bet I want to cum with you, Tamara thought before answering. Shaking the unwanted thought and erasing the devilish smile she knew she'd flashed, she answered, "Uh... we'll see. I need to relax for a bit." 

"OK. Go watch TV or whatever it is you do in your room. But don't get too relaxed," Anita said, rubbing her shoulder and returning to her work. "We have a date." 

Tamara was already walking back to her room, and when she heard that line, she licked her lips. Stop it, her mind warned. Just cut it out. You are not doing anything to your roommate. She's your friend! 

Tamara closed the door to her room as soon as she was inside, and sat on her bed. Vocalizing her inner conversation, she told herself, "She is my friend. What I did in the library was one thing, but... what is it with me lately? All I did was touch that girl... Tina! All I did was touch her, kiss her, whisper to her, and she was mine. Her body was... oh god, it was so hot and ready for me, it was like putty in my hands. I could have told her to lick my ass and she would have done it, she was so..." 

Tamara stood just enough to slide her pants down. She sat back on the bed, knees together, and rubbed her thighs, relishing in the sensations her hands were giving her. Electric jolts of sexual pleasure coursed through her legs and ran straight to her pussy, which she could feel getting damp—again. 

Why am I thinking about having a girl licking my ass? Why do I want to run my tongue up and down Tina's slit? Why am I imagining, Tamara mused inwardly, her legs spreading and her hands creeping her inner thighs, what Anita's clit would taste and feel like against my tongue? My god, when my lips met... hers... she would... 

"Mmmmmm, she would melt, faster and better than Tina did today," Tamara whispered in response to her thoughts. A finger found her sweet spot and began to explore the familiar depths of her wetness, causing her to fall back onto her bed. 

Before she got too carried away, Tamara pulled her hands from her crotch. Flipping over and crawling so that she could rest her head on a pillow, she lay down and said, "I have to stop this. I just practically raped a girl in the library. Even if she enjoyed it, I have to face it: I like..." 

Her mind stopped her. Don't say it. Don't you say it, Tamara. What was John... a phase? A phase that lasted most of high school? What about Tim before him? And the other boys you liked since you were twelve?? Was everything from puberty till today just a phase? 

Tamara sighed and said, "Yes... NO! No... I don't know, maybe." Bringing her hands up under the pillow, she sobbed quietly for a few minutes, sorting things out as best she could. As shocked as she was at her own behavior earlier, she was more concerned with suddenly realizing that she had strong feelings for women, feelings she previously thought she only had for men. 

There was no way for her to deny it. She was thinking about girls day and night, her dreams were erotic and filled with Sapphic playmates, and she couldn't remember the last time she even looked at a guy and had a sexual thought about him. Am I turning into... am I going... am I... oh god, am I a lesbian? 

Wanting desperately to force the question of her own sexuality out of her head, she reached under her oversized shirt and rested her hands on her stomach, letting the now–familiar erotic waves wash through her hands and over her body. The heat reached her breasts and she gasped, her nipples puffing out nicely and making tiny tents in her shirt. She reached higher and found her breasts waiting for her hands; it was like they anticipated the contact and she moaned as she cupped them. 

And what is with my tits? I know for a fact that they're growing. Isn't that... mmmm, impossible? she thought, caressing and gently squeezing her boobs underneath her shirt. With a smile, she realized that she was bottomless but had kept her shirt on. She found it oddly funny and laughed quietly. Her crisis faded a little, and twisted into a tiny shard of acceptance. 

And so what if I like girls. It's not like I'm the only one who does. I'm not the only girl who goes bi in college. Her fingers worked her pussy lightly, her palm resting on her pubic hair which she'd noticed had been thinning around the sides. It now looked like a natural landing strip–style bush, and the hair on her labia majora had already disappeared completely. 

I'm physically changing, Tamara thought to herself. It's like my hands, my mouth... my body... are all being turned into a sex machine. 

She came hard and wet, soaking part of her blankets. She hadn't even bothered to get under them. With the release came a fit of chuckles. "Hahahaha! Oh, yeah, a real sex machine. Yep, that's what I'm becoming...." 

Right then Anita hollered, "Did you say somethin', Tammy?" 

Moving quickly to get under the covers (getting caught frigging off was not how she wanted to start her Friday evening), Tamara replied, "Nothing! Hey, get me up in a couple of hours, OK?" 

She was pretty sure Anita had said, "Sure thing." 

"Sex machine. More like some kind of... I don't know, sex–causer? Is that a word? How about hornymaker?" Even though she was whispering, she cracked herself up with that last word and giggled out loud, eliciting one more verbal checkup from her concerned (if not overly studious) roommate. 

Tamara told her through the door that she was just slap–happy because she was so tired. It turned out to be true; she was asleep within minutes time and enjoyed a dreamless sleep. 

*****

It was about nine thirty in the evening when Tamara woke up. It took a few moments to realize that she'd fallen asleep, as it had come on her so fast. But time had definitely passed. Her room was dark, but there was a light on in the living room. So, she slid on some panties (actually, a thong from her recent shoot) and a robe and walked to the only lit room in the apartment. What she saw made her tingle. 

Sitting on the couch, rubbing her neck, was Anita. She was wearing some old gym shorts and a T–shirt that was too flimsy and old to be worn outside their apartment. Tamara squinted and saw that Anita did not have a bra on under the shirt. It looked like she was ready for bed. 

Don't do it. She's your friend, it would be wrong. You're still not sure... one side of Tamara's mind warned. 

How can I look at her, feel like this, and not be sure? the other side argued. A slight nausea mixed with her growing arousal—it didn't matter how much she wanted Anita, she was not about to entertain the idea that was already forming in her head. 

"Hey you, what are you staring at? Never seen an overworked coed before?" Anita teased. 

Tamara didn't know if Anita knew that she'd been checking her out for a few minutes or if she thought that Tamara had just walked into the room. Inner turmoil and arousal were replaced with fear for a brief moment—how would Anita react to being gawked at by a roommate with whom she'd shared a hot kiss and make–out session an eternity ago? 

Thankfully, for Tamara, Anita broke the tension that she wasn't even aware she'd created. "Hey, relax. Sit down." 

Tamara complied, taking a seat right beside her friend. She picked up the remote, flipped through some channels on the cable box and said, "So, Anita, why didn't you get me up? Aren't we doing something tonight?" 

"Honestly," Anita sighed, "do you really want to?" Then, she reached up and stretched, arching her back and jutting her breasts out. Tamara had to fight the urge to reach out and grab them. 

You can take her now, just get your hands and mouth on her... no, no, stop it! I am so not doing this!! she thought. She quickly said, "Well, not really, I guess," hoping the gap between the question and answer didn't seem as awkward to Anita as it was to her. 

"Hey, you apparently needed the sleep. I should have joined you," Anita absently said, moving around and trying to get comfortable. 

Tamara bit her lip and her pussy twitched at the unintentional double entendre. Don't make a fucking move. You've dealt with this weird crush you've had on her for weeks now, no need to ruin it all in a moment of weakness. She doesn't know you like... you don't know what she'll... what she might do or say... how she'll react if she ever finds out you want her... if you want to have her... that way, she thought. Say something! This is getting awkward again, say something!! 

"You want to sleep with me? Something you care to tell me, Anne?" Tamara half–joked. A tiny part of her wished against hope that Anita would say "yes" and mount her, lean down, and kiss her deeply. 

Anita laughed. "No, silly. I mean I should have taken a nap or something. I've been hunched over my crappy computer all night. My eyes are blurry from the screen, and my neck is killing me. Feel it," Anita said, grabbing Tamara's hand and pulling it to her shoulder. "See... ohhhhhh, that's nice...." 

Tamara indeed felt the knots in her muscles. She rubbed them slightly, knowing from earlier that the shirt between her hand and Anita's shoulder should keep Anita from falling under her spell the way Tina had. No matter what she did outside the apartment, she wanted her home to remain somewhat normal, and reducing a roommate to a smoldering pile of writhing sexual need with a few well–placed kisses and gropes would ruin that. 

"That feels... ooooooh, sooo good, Tammy. Your hands are amazing...." 

Tamara suddenly drew her hand back, causing Anita to make a pouty face that made Tamara want to kiss her. 

"Awww, come on, that felt so good...." 

Tamara replied, "No, I think that's all... I'm... I'm not too good at giving massages. You should go lay down." 

"Mmmm, bullshit. Your hands made my neck feel great for the first time since I got up this morning. You could probably rub these knots out of my shoulders and back in no time. Pleeeeease?" Anita mock–pleaded. 

"Huh? No, I don't think so...." Tamara asked, hoping Anita wouldn't tempt her further. She already had a feeling she couldn't say no. 

"Pwease wub my back? It's soooooo sore," Anita pouted. Her lips looked absolutely lickable to Tamara and she forced her eyes up from them, focusing on Anita's eyes. 

Tamara got up and walked behind the couch. Grabbing her sore roommate's shoulders (where the shirt covered them, anyway), she said, "Well, OK. Just relax and let..." 

"No," Anita interrupted, getting up. "My bedroom. I want to lay down and have you rub me right." 

Tamara bit her lip, again. She could feel her panties almost soak through. "We don't have any oil," she added, desperately trying to avoid being alone and in bed with Anita. "I don't see how rubbing your neck and back in there will be any different than doing it out..." 

Anita smiled, and interrupted her roommate. "I have some baby oil; it's in the medicine cabinet. Go get it, please, and I'll meet you in my room. I'll take my shirt off and lay on my stomach, too. I want the real deal. Nobody wears a shirt during a real massage, do they? Besides, it's just us girls... and we haven't had a drop of wine." She winked at Tamara after adding that last part. 

I hoped she'd forgotten about... that one night.... Tamara thought. Then, she steadied her voice and hoped her friend didn't see her trembling. "Hey now, that was a long time... I mean, it was j– –just..." 

Anita laughed and said, "I'm just messin' with ya. I'm gonna get ready." 

"I'll be in there in a minute," Tamara said. Desperation to avoid the inevitable twisted into desire to expedite it, but she still had some resistance left. I have to find a way to keep this under control. I want her, but she's off limits. I can't ruin a perfectly good friendship over... confusion, she thought. 

Tamara took her time, not wanting to seem too eager. She got the oil from the bathroom, and while there, took her panties off—they were wet and smelled of her sex. Flipping the soaked garment into the hamper, she decided to empty her bladder—she told herself she really had to pee, but part of her mind was glad she took care of it "just in case" something entertaining happened in the bedroom. She wiped, and even used a washcloth to clean herself, so Anita wouldn't be so quick to notice the unmistakable aroma of arousal. 

And again, that same naughty part of her was delighted that, if things got out of hand, her pussy would be fresh for Anita. 

Burying that thought and patting herself dry, she tightened her robe and walked into Anita's room... and nearly dropped the bottle of oil. 

Anita was lying on her belly, topless. Her breasts were pretty much hidden, but the sides of them were visible and drew Tamara's eyes instantly. Tamara approached Anita's bed, admiring her friend's smooth, but aching back, and noticed that her shorts were off too. She'd laid a towel over her bottom. Tamara licked her lips. 

Tamara prepared herself in her mind. Just try to get through this. Be easy and don't kiss her, whisper to her, or anything. Just work the kinks out of her shoulders and back and get out. In and out... like a tongue, or a finger, or... Stop it!! Say something! 

Tamara asked, "Anne, are you sure you want me to do this with you practically naked? I mean..." 




How Porn Broke Into Tamara Divine Ch. 02



"Tammy, we're adults. I'm sore and your hands are pure magic. Work some of that magic on me." 

Tamara got on Anita's bed and knelt beside her. She poured a little oil on her back, not sure of exactly what to do next. Anita jumped up a little, yelping at its coldness, and Tamara saw a glimpse of nipple. Here goes nothing, she thought. Easy does it, don't try to seduce her, just rub her back.... 

As soon as Tamara's hands contacted Anita's oil–covered skin and started to rub, Anita let out a low moan. Tamara worked her back's muscles up and down, trying to use Anita's increasing moans as some kind of feedback to tell her if she was doing it right or not. A smile flickered naughtily across Tamara's face—of course she was doing it right. With her hands, she couldn't do it wrong. But, when she worked her way up to Anita's upper back, she had a problem: her position made it awkward to rub Anita's shoulders. 

Not really thinking, she asked, "Hey Anne, do you mind if I sit on your back? I'll do it low for your, uh, lumbar area or whatever, and I can rub your shoulders easier." 

"Whatever... mmmm, just don't... stop...." Anita licked her lips and raised her hips from the bed for an instant before resting it so Tamara could take a seat on her lower back. 

Tamara lifted a knee and slid it effortlessly across Anita's oiled body, settling her naked pussy down over the girl's lower back. Tamara was thankful for all the oil; it apparently kept Anita from noticing how wet she was again (Anita certainly didn't make any comments about it, anyway). Shouldn't she be able to tell that my bare pussy is touching her? Why isn't she... oh yeah, Tamara thought, remembering that her pussy was pretty much hairless where it touched Anita's back. There wouldn't be any hairs to tickle her back and alert her to the nakedness of her masseuse. 

Her hands had never really let go, and soon Anita was moaning louder as Tamara's "magic" hands melted her aches away. The hard, tight muscles beneath Tamara's fingers melted like butter, relaxing in mere moments. 

But Tamara didn't stop her massage. Neither did Anita. She just kept rubbing Anita's shoulders and neck, sliding her hands down her slippery back every so often, and even rubbing her upper arms a few times. 

Tamara's sex was so hot with need that she wondered how Anita couldn't notice it sliding all over back—couldn't anyone feel that? When Tamara noticed Anita's hips moving rhythmically up and down ever so slightly, the arousal that had built for the last half hour of oily massage finally got the better of her. 

Using one hand, she carefully undid her robe's belt. Leaving at least one hand on Anita the whole time, she worked her robe off slowly and quietly dropped it beside the bed—not that Anita would have heard through her now–constant moaning. 

"Tammy... mmmm, what... what are you dooooing to meee? ... I... oh god, I'm so... your hands... so... hot... I'm so... hot... keep going, I'm soooo... mmmmmm..." 

Tamara continued to work Anita's back. Long, firm strokes went up and down either side of the prone girl's spine, sometimes terminating with very firm circles around her now– –pliable shoulders. 

More and more often, Tamara's hands worked Anita's sides, from her waist to under her arms, before working a little on her shoulders. And when she made that detour, Tamara made sure to brush her fingertips as far down the sides of Anita's tits as she could. 

Anita was losing herself to the growing erotic sensations bombarding her. She spoke in a language of mumbled words, slurred by moans and low guttural noises. But Tamara could make out some of what she was saying, even as her own arousal built to maddening levels. The intelligible phrases were limited to things like "please don't stop" and "so hot," but that was enough. 

Tamara reached one hand behind her and flung the towel off Anita's ass and into the corner. Laying her naked body on Anita's still slick back, she slid it up and down, stopping to say to her, "I'm hot, too. Whatever should we do about it?" 

"Oh god... don't... no, stop... how are you... doing... ooooooooh god, keep touching... no, what are you doing...." 

"I have an idea. Let's screw each other until we pass out in each other's arms. You want that, I can tell. Don't you want it?" Tamara smiled wickedly and added a lick to Anita's ear. That move was becoming something of a trademark for her. 

"Yeah... let's screw... fuck... all night... oh don't stop, touch me... ooooh, yeah, mmmm, kiss me, bite me... oh god touch me... please..." 

Tamara nibbled on Anita's neck and licked her ear again, abiding her friend's requests. Tamara slipped her hands down Anita's sides, right along her tits, without the pretense of giving a massage that she'd been using earlier. 

Anita lifted herself just a little, allowing Tamara access to her breasts. Once they were fully in Tamara's grasp, the nearly orgasmic sensations drove the strength out of Anita's arms and she fell back down, pinning Tamara's hands under her. Her body shook as it climaxed for the first time in too long, and she screamed into the pillow beneath her face. 

Thankfully, Tamara's hands were slippery from all the oil on them and she slipped them out from underneath her roommate. Then, she got off Anita's back and slapped her ass—hard. It was the only instruction Tamara needed to give her. 

Anita turned over, her mind aware of only one thing: her hunger for flesh—Tamara's flesh. Their lips met in a kiss hotter than the one they shared after that bottle of wine a few months ago. Tamara's hands flowed over Anita's body, caressing her, redefining pleasure for her and making her squirm. When Tamara's finger found her friend's pussy, it sank in easily—and Anita clenched around it like a clamp as she came all over her friend's hand. 

Not waiting for Anita to recover, Tamara turned and bent over so that she was face–to–face with Anita's dripping snatch. She grabbed both of her roommate's legs and sank her mouth onto it, barely able to keep her grip as Anita's hips bucked up and down at the rapturous oral contact. Though she had never licked another girl's pussy before, there was something about the taste that proved an enticing incentive for Tamara to keeping that oral contact going. 

Oh god, is this... this is what it tastes like... it's so... it's so... fuck, this is what sex is.... Tamara thought, savoring the flavor for an instant before trying to coat her tongue in the taste. It's so good... why didn't I do this before? 

Her mouth worked Anita's pussy with inexperience but enthusiastic determination. The first tentative licks became deep, sloppy kisses within a minute or so, and it wasn't long before Tamara found her lover's clitoris poking out from its hood, begging to be wetly licked, tongue–flicked, and sucked. 

When she sucked on Anita's clit, Tamara felt Anita grab her thighs, ass, feet, and anything she could get her hands on. She was squeezing Tamara's ass and stroking her slit, using her fingers to encourage Tamara to continue. Tamara let go of Anita's thighs with one hand so she could move it to Anita's cunt, and entered her friend with two fingers, curling them up toward her belly slightly. 

Anita screamed as she came again, shuddering and moaning. When she could finally manage it, she took firm hold of Tamara's leg, swinging it over her head. Reaching inside Tamara's legs, Anita slid her hands over Tamara's hips and pulled her pussy onto her mouth. Tamara's mouth released Anita's clit long enough to allow a low growl of appreciation before descending on it again. Anita switched between slapping the ass above her face and sliding fingers down between Tamara's cheeks and into the sweltering sex. 

Tamara felt her orgasm approaching. "Holy... oh, I'm going to... you're m–making me c–c–cuuuum!" she screamed. Anita responded by desperately squeezing, spanking, and fingering her friend's flesh, obeying a need that was driving her into a delirium. 

Right before Tamara came, she curled her fingers up behind Anita's pubic bone, finding her engorged G–spot and very lightly stroking it. Tamara carefully sucked on Anita's clit, making Anita groan into her pussy so powerfully that it felt like a vibrator. 

Then, both girls' hips began to shake, bump and grind as powerful orgasms washed over their convulsing bodies. Almost on cue, their mouths let go of whatever they'd been sucking on at the moment so they could scream in release. Anita, her face glazed with Tamara's cum, giggled in the afterglow as she steadied her breathing. 

Tamara also paused to catch her breath. She lay there, panting and playfully nibbling on Anita's thigh about halfway between her knee and crotch. Tamara noticed, with a small bit of pride, that she'd made Anita cum so hard that there was a wet spot on her bed. I made her do that. I did it. She's probably never cum like that before, Tamara thought. And when she felt two fingers enter her from below, Tamara smiled and planted kisses all the way back to Anita's waiting pussy. 

They stayed in a "69" position for a while, their oily bodies sliding over each other wantonly, their fingers and tongues blurs of frantic activity. Changing positions, they continued their oral ministrations. Nothing on either one of their bodies went unlicked... unsucked... unviolated. After a while, they took turns going down on each other, exploring each other's velvety folds as their desire expanded and contracted with each orgasm, in what seemed like a cycle that might never end. 

Few words were spoken, and fewer still were coherent. The heat between the two could have melted stone. They lived in the infinity of their unbridled lust, using their bodies to squeeze every bit of pleasure out of each other, until, well after three in the morning, they both passed out from sheer exhaustion. 

They'd been fucking for about five hours straight. They drifted off into a happy slumber... entangled, sweaty, and if Tamara remembered correctly, in mid–kiss. 

And for the first time in weeks, Tamara felt completely sexually satisfied. 

*****

Tamara woke up in Anita's room, alone. For the first half hour, she lay there, basking in her memories. She'd had fun with her body on her own lately, and she vaguely remembered how good it felt when John used to make love to her, but she never knew that sexual pleasure could be as intense as it had been the previous night. 

Last night... oh fuck! With ANITA!! 

The gravity of what had transpired hit her like a ton of lead bricks. The same day she'd practically sworn never to foul up her relationship with her roommate, she had instead opted to fuck her brains out. Anita never stood a chance against the abilities Tamara had somehow acquired, and Tamara knew it. But how she acquired her "power" wasn't important at the moment. I should have known better. I knew what I was capable of... oh god, I'm still in her room, she's gone. Holy shit, this is bad... get out, I have to get out! her mind screamed. 

She found her robe and threw it on as she walked out of Anita's room. She was still tying its belt when she entered the living room. Anita wasn't there. Relieved for an instant, Tamara turned around and saw her roommate in the kitchen, sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee. 

Tamara was speechless. What would she say? How could she explain this? Last time it was because of the wine, or so Anita thought anyway—but they didn't drink before last night's activities. And, it was more than a kiss this time. A lot more. Tamara racked her mind for something to say. Her mouth hung open, but the words would not come. 

Anita looked up at her, and found her voice first. 

"Tammy, sit down. I'll get you some coffee," she said, getting up and pouring another cup. 

Tamara preferred tea, but now was not the time to bring up drink preferences. 

Anita set the steaming cup of Joe before Tamara, and took a seat across the table from her. After taking a drink, she said, "We need to talk about last night." 

Tamara sipped the bitter drink and swallowed hard.



How Porn Broke Into Tamara Divine Ch. 03



As she silently sat across from Anita, Tamara thought, How many years can this silence last? She had tried to come up with something to start "the talk," if for no other reason than to simply get it over with. But there was nothing she could think of that would ease the awkward silence into some kind of conversation. 

Anita's voice broke the silence. Looking into her nearly empty cup of coffee, she said flatly, "That was some night, wouldn't you say?" 

Trembling hands steadied Tamara's cup as she tried to take a sip. The acrid taste didn't help her find words, but she had to say something. "Um, yeah. Some night," she said. "I, uh, had... I mean, it was fun." Her eyes slammed shut and she mentally scolded herself for not being able to come up with anything better to say. 

Anita let out a sound that was a mix between a snicker and a snort. Tamara looked up and, seeing the look on her roommate's face, knew it was an attempt at nervous laughter. 

"Look Tammy, what happened last night aside, why—" 

"I'm so sorry! I—" 

"Why didn't you tell me you were gay?!" Anita, finally able to make eye contact, blurted out. She looked back down and continued. "I'm sorry, Tammy. I didn't mean to make that sound so... mean. I don't care if your a... I mean if you're... it's... (sigh) look, I don't care if..." 

"I'm gay," Tamara said. An instant later, she shut her eyes tight and silently admitted it to herself for the first time. This is not a phase. Last night was not an experiment. I loved it and I even made Anne like it, she thought. Tamara had always heard that in such moments as this, there was a certain feeling—like if a heavy weight was lifted from one's shoulders. But, the weight that lifted from her settled in her stomach, causing a wave of nausea. The feeling was both relieving and awful, but Tamara somehow knew that it would pass. 

When Tamara opened her eyes, she saw that Anita was looking at her. Tamara's mind ran through what seemed like thousands of words and phrases, trying to do something to push the conversation along. Finally, she simply said, "I'm gay, Anne. I'm a lesbian. I hope... I mean, you won't... I hope you don't hate me and I hope this doesn't kill our friendship. I don't want you to move out and I don't want to leave, either. I guess I've been in denial about it all, or... I don't know. But that's what I am." 

Anita's eyes drifted down again, and Tamara looked into her own mostly full cup of coffee. But, to Tamara's surprise, her friend reached across the table and lightly put her hand on top of Tamara's. Tamara looked up in time to see Anita breathe deeply. 

"It's... OK, Tammy. Really." Anita looked up and continued. "I mean it. I don't hate you or anything. I'm not some homophobe. And no one has to move out just because you're gay. It's just... a surprise. I mean, we kissed that one time, but I thought that was the wine and had pretty much forgotten about it. But last night... I mean, I would never have done what I... uh, you know, well... I guess I kinda threw myself at you. If I'd known you were... you know..." 

"I'm a lesbian. It's not a bad word, Anne," Tamara told her roommate, being careful not to turn her hand over and expose her friend to any more of this strange power she had used to her advantage the previous night. "That's just who I am." 

"Tammy, look. I like living here with you, and I like you. Since we met, we've become really good friends and I don't want to lose that. Last night was..." Anita swallowed and steadied her voice. "Last night was like a... uhm, like a..." 

Tamara smiled faintly. "Like a...?" 

Blushing, the stammering roommate said, "It was like the sexiest dream I've ever had. You did things to me... you made... damn, girl, you made me feel things that I never thought... (sigh) Damn, girl. Last night was magical." 

Tamara looked up, a hint of pride written on her face. But, she knew there was a caveat and she decided to head it off at the pass. "But...?" 

Anita sighed, but this time she kept her eyes locked into Tamara's. "But... that's all it was. A night. Magical, yes... but it was just one night." Her hand held Tamara's firmly as she continued. "Tammy... I'll be honest. Last night was amazing—there's no other word for it. But I'm not gay. Things got out of hand... and I'm to blame, I guess. I got naked and handed an horny lesbian a bottle of oil and said, 'rub me until I feel good, and let's do it on my bed.' I don't blame you, never think that. 

"I lo... I like you, Tammy. But I can't be more than a friend to you. You deserve more than what I can give you. You can get me off, and I guess I can get you off too—" 

"I have no complaints. You did fine," Tamara interrupted. She smiled a little, but Anita's face was serious and Tamara's mood shifted back to match that of her friend's. 

"Tammy, don't." Anita again drew a long breath to steady her voice. "I'm being serious. You're a great person, a wonderful woman and I like you. As a friend. But I can't be more than that to you. I can't give you the love that you want. And even though the... uh, sex... last night was great, I've been there with guys before, and it never lasts... and I don't talk to them anymore, Tammy. I don't want that to happen with you." 

Tamara took another tiny sip of coffee and licked her lips. After a minute or two, she found her voice. "Anne, it's... it's fine. I know you're straight. I knew it last night, and I took..." She stopped in mid–thought. Stop! You can't tell her you knew what your hands and mouth would do to her! 

"You didn't take advantage of me, if that's what you're thinking, Tammy." 

"I think... OK, look, I did. I wanted you, Anne." Anne blushed but Tamara continued. "I've wanted you for a while now, ever since that night I kissed you. I can't help it, you're... Jesus, don't you know how hot you are?" 

Anita nodded her head slightly in agreement, blushing at the compliment. 

"Look, I didn't have to do what I did. And... to be honest, I wasn't sure until a few days... well, really, until yesterday." 

"Uh–huh, sure." Anita said, a little sarcastically. After a minute or so of silence, she finally said what was on and behind both of their minds. 

"So, Tammy, where do we go from here? I just want you to know that I don't have a problem with your... lifestyle? You know what I mean. But I'll be totally honest with you: I can't keep living with you if we can't put this behind us. Last night was great, but we can't do it again. Ever. I'm guessing we need to set some house rules, or something... like, for example, I'm not walking naked around the apartment anymore, if you don't mind." 

Tamara laughed and got up, taking her coffee cup to the sink to pour it out. "Actually, I do mind that!" Anita snickered at that, but the moment levity was brief. 

"Fair enough, I guess I kinda walked right into that. 'House rules' sounds dumb anyway. But I need you to promise that this won't be an issue between us again. Somehow, I doubt I'm going to try and seduce you. But I need to know—need to know, Tammy, no kidding around—I need to know that you aren't going to try to do anything with me again. You have to promise me. 

"I'm not saying this was all your fault; it's in the past but I need to hear you say it. Tell me you're not going to treat me like anything but a friend. Promise." 

"Anne... Anne, I'm so sorry...." 

"Please, Tammy. Just promise me. I don't want to destroy a friendship over this. It was fun for a night, but you have to swear to me that last night was just a one–time thing." 

Tamara felt a pang of loss, but it was tempered a little by her grim expectation of where she'd originally thought this conversation would end. Thankfully, Anita had not freaked out as Tamara worried she might. The morning after conversation was going better than she'd dared to hope. 

After a minute or two of total silence, Tamara found her voice. "Anne, if you can live here with me, and if my... sexuality... really doesn't bother you, then I promise not to... I mean, I swear that I won't try anything with you again. I won't get handsy, I won't get kissy, I'll take the web cam in your bedroom out, I..." 

Shocked, Anita looked at her friend... only to see her suppressing a smile. They both erupted into a round of genuine laughter that eased the earlier tension. 

Tamara thought, Now that wasn't so bad. Doesn't make me want her less, though... but at least this is out there, on the table. 

"Tammy, please. I'm being serious," Anita said when the laughter died. "I don't want to put it out there like an ultimatum, but—" 

"Seriously," Tamara continued, "I won't push you to do this again, and I won't hit on you or... take advantage of you, if you're... you know... if you've had a little too much wine. I promise: no more sex with you. I was wrong to do it last night and I promise never to do try and seduce you again. I am so sorry... can you forgive me?" 

Anne got up, empty cup in hand, and headed for the coffee pot. As she poured a fresh cup, she said, "It's OK, Tammy. Really. It happened, and now we move on. Oh, Jeff called while you were asleep. He says he has a couple projects you might be interested in. Something about a solo layout and one with somebody named Kristi, who he said you'd love. Know her?" 

"Can't say I do. I guess she's new." 

"Yeah, that's what Jeff said—she's brand new, a 'virgin.' His words. He insisted I use those words when I gave you the message. Weird, huh?" 

Tamara heard Anita's words, but curiosity struck her. Why would he make sure I knew she was a virgin? Is she a virgin–virgin, or a topless photo layout virgin? 

"Tammy?" Anita asked. 

Tamara shook her head. "Uh... yeah. Sorry, just spaced a little. What were you saying?" 

Anita shook her head and headed to the living room with her cup of coffee. "Just call Jeff. He said it will pay $5000, so it must be important." 

"Yeah, OK, I'll call him as soon as I wake up," Tamara said. And for fifteen minutes, right up to the time she was actually dialing his number, she couldn't help but to think, What in the world does he want me to do in front of the camera for that kind of scratch? 

*****

"That's weird... I've done hair and makeup a million times but I don't think I've ever seen this," Bobbi (the makeup girl on the set) said as she brushed Tamara's hair, noticing that with each pass, several blond hairs seemed to be getting picked up by the brush and carried off the brunette's head. 

Tamara was a little surprised at the amount of work going into this shoot, but the bristling activity eased her concerns a little—as did her excitement. Soft–core, Tammy... it's just soft–core. Simulated. Fake. Artsy, she reminded herself. And as per usual, it's for overseas. Nobody I know is going to see it, and there's always deniability... it's not like I have any tattoos... oooh, yet! The thought of getting some ink curiously struck her as funny and she suddenly started giggling—much to the surprise of both her makeup artist and her "co–star." 

"Something funny, T... uh, Tracey, was it?" Kristi said as a small scar near her inner thigh was airbrushed out of sight by another makeup girl. 

"It's Tammy. And no, I just had a funny thought, that's all. It's gone now." 

"Whatever, whatever. You don't seem very nervous, at any rate. Have you done this before? I mean, a layout with another woman?" 

"Yeah. But, nothing like this. I've done some racy catalog stuff, and I've done stuff where I was hugging another girl, but not this... what did Jeff call it...?" 

Kristi, mocking Jeff's matter–of–fact tone, said, "It's just a softcore, simulated lesbian layout. There will be some intimate touching and body licking and/or kissing, but no penetration and you won't have to lick the other girl's vagina. The magazine this will appear in is a Belgian men's magazine. Just go as far with Tamara as you're comfortable—" 

By the time Kristi got that far, Tamara was laughing so hard at her impression of John that Kristi stopped talking and started laughing herself. 

"That was hilarious, Kristi. But, let me ask you: have you ever worked with Jeff before?" 

"No. I'm new around here—hell, I'm really only here so I can bum off my aunt and uncle and save enough money to finish my degree. It's cheaper than going to a university somewhere on the coast. I've done tons of nude layouts before... and a few softcore ones with guys, you know, the whole non–penetration thing... so this shouldn't be that tough. How do I look?" 

Kristi was standing away from her makeup artist, and Tamara had to admit she looked like a sex goddess. Perfect makeup, hair, body, tits... everything. If Tamara had been bold enough after her encounter with Anita to find a steady girlfriend—or, at least, a lover—she may have decided to resist the urge to use her now proven abilities to publicly seduce the sexpot standing in front of her. But it'd been quite some time since that night with Anita, which was the last time she'd really had any sex. 

It's going to be Valentine's day in a couple of weeks or so, Tamara thought as she absently commented on her prey's appearance. I think I deserve an early present for being so good and not doing anything to Anne. 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... c'mon, quit just gawking and tell me what you think. Do I look hot?" 

"Well," Tamara said, looking a little too long at the girl's red pubic hair, "the curtains match the carpet, which is nice. I see nothing wrong with how you look—you're perfect." 

"Oh, that's just the makeup. Seriously, do I look OK?" Kristi asked, turning and moving, quickly trying on different seductive poses and facial gestures. 

Tamara reached out and tweaked her left nipple. A sharp gasp escaped Kristi's lips and her knees bent noticeably as Tamara casually said, "Don't worry, you'll be fine. You're in good hands." With that, Tamara got up from her stool and walked out, leaving a suddenly incredibly horny model behind her. 

"This is going to be soooo fun," Tamara whispered to herself as she made her way to the main set. 

"What's going to be fun?" Jeff asked from behind her, startling her. 

Tamara made a brief motion to cover herself (she was naked and on her way to see what she'd be wearing for the first part of the shoot), but dropped her arms to her side. "I guess you've seen me naked before... anyway, I was just saying that this shoot is going to be especially fun. I don't think the new girl has never done one of these with another girl before, and I think that..." Tamara stopped, smiling as if she knew something that Jeff didn't. "Let's just say I think she'll be... inspired... to go further than she's gone before in a shoot." 

"Well," Jeff said, walking up to Tamara, "that's fine. I'll just make sure the photographer knows it might go hardcore. That's cool. It lets us sell the pictures to a hardcore magazine overseas. It's just a shame you don't do anything for the American market." 

"Hey, you've never asked! Besides, I don't know about that. This is a great way to get some cash, but if people I knew found out I did these nude layouts, I'd... hey, eyes up here, Mister!" 

"Sorry. It's just you've changed since last time I saw you." Jeff was smiling at a joke only he seemed to know. "You're hair has only a few highlights in it, and it looks shorter. And darker—heck, it's almost black in some spots. And your breasts... did you get implants?" 

Tamara looked down at her chest. "Oh, these? Yeah, they're bigger than last time. I've heard of late bloomers, but this is ridiculous. Not that I'm complaining... hey, wait... what are you—" Tamara's words cut off when Jeff wiggled the finger he'd slipped inside her pussy. 

"Don't worry. This is more for the women in your life than for you. Just forget about this, OK?" With that said, Jeff removed his finger. 

Tamara shook her head and said, "Um, what were you saying? Oh yeah. Yeah, my hair's been getting darker. It's weird. But my chest is all natural. I think they're still growing a little—I just hope they stop before I get too big. I'd look ridiculous with a pair of double–D's." 

"OK. Single D's it is. Good luck, and have fun today, Tamara." Jeff then left to do some paperwork in a far corner of the studio. The first part of Jeff's parting comment slid from Tamara's memory as easily as his finger had slid from her vagina. 

Tamara shook her head again as Jeff walked away. Looking around, she saw Kristi emerge from the makeup area. Tamara waved at her, smiling and knowing that Kristi was about to have a lot more fun than she probably knew would be possible in front of a photographer. Soon, the girls were dressed in some skimpy, easy–access lingerie... and then the shoot began. They didn't even notice the clicking of the camera after the first half–hour. 

Kristi seemed to be very used to these kinds of shoots. She would look at the camera at just the right time, and at any moment, she could conjure up a face that could melt any man or woman into a molten puddle of arousal. Tamara noticed that unlike the other models she'd worked with, there was nothing seemingly magical about Kristi's hands. And, because Kristi was something of a professional, she was touching Tamara very carefully—she wouldn't let her fingers or mouth linger on any of Tamara's favorite body parts. 

In fact, the only time Kristi's detached, professional demeanor cracked was when Tamara did the touching, kissing, or licking. Her tongue never touched Kristi's nether region, and her fingers didn't spend much time there either—it was softcore, after all—but Kristi was clearly having trouble holding herself together after an hour of such posing. With each caress, each playful spanking, each lick, and each kiss, Kristi's nervous expresions began to betray what Tamara interpreted to be a growing desire for the shoot to take a more playful, and explicit, turn. 

During a short break early in the shoot, Tamara went back to the makeup area for some privacy. Kristi sat in a folding chair just off the set, drinking a bottle of water. Without physical contact, the highly erotic sensations Tamara had been causing Kristi to experience began to fade, or so Tamara thought as she watched her from across the large, open room. Her breathing was certainly smoother—and noticing this made Tamara chuckle to herself. 

Tamara started to scheme in her head. Heh. Yeah, I've been having too much fun here. She's just sooo hot... I haven't gotten any since that night with Anne... hmmmmmmm, I wonder if I can get this little party into high gear... I just have to pick my moment, whisper in her ear, maybe bite her earlobe—the photographer will love that—yeah, and then 'accidentally' let my finger find her tight, little cunt.... 

Turning a little and hiding what she was doing as much as possible, Tamara slid a finger into her pussy. The familiar bolts of pleasure hit her like they always did, and in just a few seconds she'd managed to get herself off. But once was never enough, so she continued to play with her sex, occasionally rubbing her clit before plunging her finger back into her slit. When she came the second time (after a slow, careful work–up), she noticed something odd. 

Kristi had shifted her position. She was now sitting forward a little, and rubbing her thighs together. A light blush spread over her chest and face, and her breathing got deeper. As Tamara kept playing with herself, she saw that Kristi was apparently trying to both clamp her legs together while at the same time rub them in such a way to put a little friction on her pussy. 

The sight of her squirming in her seat was more than Tamara could bear. The added thrill of knowing that she could make Kristi hers right there in the studio sent her fingers into overdrive, and they brought her off a third time. She was just barely able to conceal the grunt. Then, the photographer announced that he was ready for another round of shots, so Tamara quickly cleaned up and sashayed onto the set. 




How Porn Broke Into Tamara Divine Ch. 03



"Kristi, are you coming?" Tamara asked mischievously. She took a seat on the blanket that was spread on the floor of the artificial outdoor scene and spread her legs—the photographer wanted this set to start with Kristi getting a neck massage from Tamara. 

Kristi wiggled out of her seat and brought her hand to her crotch. She made a motion that anyone watching would have thought was just a light rub, maybe to address a slight itch. But Tamara knew better. 

"Kristi? Heeellooo?" 

"Uh, sorry. Just... uhm, hell yeah. I'm ready. I guess I just spaced a little...." Kristi said. She sat between Tamara's legs, and the photographer started clicking away. 

Tamara put her hands on Kristi's shoulders and carefully massaged them. After a little bit of that, she moved her hands down Kristi's chest and squeezed her tits. This made Kristi moan, and when Tamara brought her fingers up and pinched Kristi's nipples, Kristi gasped and arched her back, her slight shudder telling Tamara she'd probably just had a tiny orgasm. 

That encouraged Tamara, so she leaned down a little and whispered to Kristi. "Let's turn up the heat a few notches, Kristi. What do you say? Let's just see how far we can take this before they stop us." And then she licked Kristi's ear (Tamara was getting fond of that little move; it was like an exclamation point after her little "suggestion"), even sticking her tongue into her ear a little. 

Kristi responded by closing her eyes and falling back into Tamara's arms. The only word she could say was, "Yessssssss...." 

The photographer stopped giving directions to the women, not that either would have noticed. With a few quick movements, Tamara had Kristi pinned and was kissing her passionately. The unsuspecting model writhed as Tamara's hands roamed her body, and her earlier professionalism was seemingly shattered. Kristi even grabbed Tamara's ass and squeezed it. 

Then, her hands came up and embraced Tamara's body. Tamara wasn't surprised by that, because it made for a good picture. But what did surprise her was why Kristi did it. Holding Tamara tightly like that gave Kristi enough leverage and control to use her free leg to flip them both over. 

Now Kristi was on top. "Let's do a 69; they always love that... and damn, my pussy is wet... I need you to... damn, I think we should go ahead and go... as far as you're..." 

"Stop talking about it and do it," Tamara told her. It sounded a little more bold than she'd intended and just a little bit corny, but Kristi didn't seem to notice or care. She spun around, and before Tamara knew it, her eyes were staring at the delectable, glistening cunt of the model who probably never imagined what would be in store for her when she signed on to do this particular photo spread. With a few gentle licks, Tamara heard Kristi moan and felt her hot breath on her inner thigh. When she licked Kristi's clit, Kristi responded by hungrily (and sloppily) attacking Tamara's pussy with her tongue. 

Tamara's tongue was just about to redefine Kristi's sense of orgasm when, out of the corner of her eye, Tamara saw that the photographer was coming around to get some shots of her licking Kristi's pussy. Kristi was already eating Tamara's pussy, and she wasn't doing a bad job, but Tamara had a playfully evil thought: she'd hold a pose to give the camera man a fair chance at a great shot—a shot of her tongue on Kristi's clit. She'd make sure her tongue was perfectly still on Kristi's clit the whole time, just to see how long Kristi could stand it. 

When the cameraman was in position, Tamara's tongue slid out and rested torturously Kristi's exposed clit. Tamara also held Kristi's ass in such a way as to put her fingertips really close to Kristi's pussy and anus, gently squeezing Kristi's derrière. Kristi responded by increasing her efforts on Tamara's pussy, quickly making her cum, but Tamara managed to keep her hands and tongue virtually motionless on Kristi's sweet spots. 

Kristi started to tremble, and as soon as she gave Tamara another orgasm, she tried to grind her pussy onto Tamara's face to increase the maddening sensations Tamara was causing her to feel. Unfortunately for Kristi, though, Tamara had too strong a hold on her ass. Maddening pleasure coursed through the fingertips that rested tantalizingly close to her bottom holes—Kristi, to her lusty dismay, could not get the relief she sought. 

Tamara noticed Kristi's motions getting more frenzied, so she started to slowly lick up and down Kristi's slit. Kristi let up from Tamara's pussy to moan, and she didn't go back down. Instead, as the photographer moved around to get a different angle, she started to ride Tamara's face, remembering for the first time since that last break to make eyes at the camera. Tamara reached up and played with Kristi's tits. At the same time, she stuck her tongue up into Kristi's pussy—and Kristi came with a growl, collapsing forward as the pleasure shot through her body. 

Kristi wasn't showing any signs of exhaustion, though. She got off Tamara's face and turned around, sliding down Tamara's so she could kiss her. She continued to move down her body, licking Tamara's tits and paying extra attention to her nipples as she made her way to Tamara's pussy. Tamara noticed that she waited for the photographer to get into position before she began to lick and finger her; it was a little amusing to Tamara that Kristi still had the presence of mind to play to the camera. 

When Kristi started fingering Tamara's pussy, she spread her legs wider. It's been... too... mmmm, too damn long, I have to do this more often.... she thought. Tamara's hands came up and played with her tits while she watched Kristi alternate work her sex; she especially liked it when Kristi reached down between her own legs and started playing with herself (at least, that's what Tamara assumed she was doing with that hand). Within a few minutes, Kristi's fingers and tongue generated a powerful climax that made Tamara close her eyes and scream. When she opened her eyes, she looked down at a smiling Kristi. But there was another look in her eyes... raw hunger. 

It took a moment for Tamara to figure out that Kristi was nowhere near being done with the scene. Damn... I just came, and it looks like she needs it even more than she did a minute ago! She's still... damn, I think she's still rubbing her pussy! Deciding to take matters into her own hands, Tamara sat up and embraced Kristi. More pictures were taken while they held each other and kissed, and Tamara whispered to Kristi, "I'm going to lay you down and blow your mind... you're going to love this...." 

"Mmmmm... oh God I don't know if I can... ooooh, take any more," Kristi said, "but this tingling in my pussy just won't go away... fuck, I'm so hot..." 

Tamara laid Kristi on her back, and spent some time sucking and pinching her nipples. She knew the effect it would have, and it wasn't long before Kristi's hands were trying to gently guide Tamara down to her achingly aroused cunt. Tamara took her time though, delighting in the whimpers and gentle pleas coming out of Kristi's mouth. Tamara even lightly grazed her fingers in a back–and–forth motion as she slowly made her way to Kristi's sex, watching the goosebumps appear in small waves. 

"Oh god oh please, please just... oh... OH!" Kristi said, then yelped when Tamara slipped a finger into her. "Oh whatever you're doing... oh... don't... st–stop! Oh... Unnnnnnngh!!" Tamara smiled smugly as her fellow model came and before she could recover, Tamara added another finger and her tongue to her assault on Kristi's hot, wet pussy. 

The shoot continued that way for a couple more hours, with only a few breaks in the action. Tamara was having fun toying with Kristi, who confessed during one of their breaks that she could not understand how Tamara's hands and lips felt so good on her body—she even called it "unreal." 

Tamara smiled and said nothing to that, but not only because she had expected that exact reaction from Kristi. No, the main reason she didn't say anything was because of Kristi's other comment about the whole experience. Every time she was licking or fingering Tamara, Kristi felt a deep tingling in her pussy. She even felt it when Tamara was playing with herself (which the photographer seemed to want to see a lot, once they started listening to him again). Having already come to terms with the fact that her hands and mouth had some enchantment about them (at least, that was the best she could come up with to explain what they could do to women), she momentarily postulated that maybe, somehow, her vagina was now enchanted. 

Immediately, she chastised such a silly thought. Now, come on. Being good with your hands is one thing. Ditto the mouth. But a magic pussy? Please. This girl is just so horny she can hardly think straight... but then again... She didn't have time to think on it further, though. The camera was loaded with fresh film, and it was time to go back on set. 

When it was all over, Tamara collected her cashier's check, cleaned up, got dressed, and went down to the front door of the large building where the studio was located. She was surprised to see Kristi there, apparently waiting for her. 

"Hey there, Kristi. Waiting for a ride? It's cold as hell outside, can I drive you somewhere?" 

"No, thanks. I drove. I just... uhm, well, I don't know how to, um, say this... (sigh) OK, look. Here's my phone number," Kristi said, handing Tamara a folded piece of paper. "Today was amazing, and I... well, I'd like to know if you would like to get some drinks sometime. Do you drink?" 

"Why Kristi, are you trying to seduce me?" Tamara teased. "If you want to get me drunk to get me in bed, you shouldn't come right out and say, 'Do you drink?' There are subtler methods, you know." 

"What? No, no no no no. Well, uhm... listen. Until today, I was a virgin when it came to girls. I've done lots of spreads and layouts, but they were all softcore and it wasn't really too arousing. But... damn, girl, you rocked my world back there." 

Tamara listened and thought, Virgin? Funny... that's the word Jeff used. Curious as to what Kristi was trying to say, Tamara asked, "Are you telling me you're a lesbian? You sure seemed to know what you were doing... down there." 

"Oh no. I'm not gay. Must have been... beginner's luck. But... but... well, I was wondering if we both weren't... you know, and since we're both models, and we... uh, you know, we could go out and..." Words failed Kristi, to the amusement of Tamara. 

"OK, tell ya what. I'll take your number, and we'll hook up sometime. I only have one or two friends who I hang out with, and you seem nice enough. As for anything else," Tamara said, seductively running a finger from Kristi's forehead, down the side of her face, over to her chin, and then back to her neck, "we'll just play it by... ear." She whispered the last part, letting her warm breath waft into Kristi's right ear. 

Kristi closed her eyes and moaned at the light contact of Tamara's fingers and warm breath. Her knees buckled when Tamara finally kissed her neck. Tamara held out a hand to help her up, and Kristi took it eagerly; as soon as she was standing again, she kissed Tamara on the lips. Then it was Tamara's turn to nearly fall down. The kiss reignited Tamara's arousal, which was amazing enough considering all the more–than–satisfying sex she'd just had. 

Damn, I don't remember her being able to kiss this good when we were on set... must have been... oh fuck it, I am definitely not going to lose this number, Tamara thought as she melted into the kiss. But, all too soon, Kristi broke it off. Tamara looked at her silently, and watched as she giggled, waived, and walked out into the cold January evening. Tamara just stood there and watched her walk out to her car and get in. Everything about the girl was cute, she realized. 

Of course everything about her is cute... she's a model. And she kisses as well as I do, apparently. Maybe I'll call her this weekend, Tamara thought to herself before opening the door and made her way to her car. For some reason, though, her mind kept going to Kristi's talk about how her pussy was feeling when they were on the set. She had mentioned it briefly a few times, and something about it kept nagging at her. 

But, about halfway to Springfield, she was finally able to let it go, instead concentrating on what she was going to do the following weekend. I definitely am going to hook up with Kristi Saturday night. 

Smiling at the thought of a hot model sharing her bed, Tamara drove home through the cold, dark night. 

*****

Late in March, Tamara got a call from Carla Anderson, her ex–boyfriend's mother. After the opening pleasantries, Mrs. Anderson got to the point: Emily, her daughter, was going to be spending a day or two at Central Illinois University, to check the school out; and she wanted to know if Tamara would be so kind as to put her daughter up for the weekend and following Monday and Tuesday nights. 

"Mrs. Anderson, does Emily want to stay here? I mean, don't they usually just come down in small groups and stay at a hotel or something?" Tamara asked. I wonder if she remembers that kiss? she thought as she waited for Carla's reply. 

"Actually, she asked to stay with you," came the reply. 

"Oh... well, I guess it's OK. I'll keep an eye on her," Tamara said, wondering why Emily would ask specifically to stay with her. Surely she remembers what happened... wouldn't that make an ordinary girl want to avoid me? she thought. Then a smile crept to her face. Maybe she's not so ordinary... crap, Carla's still talking.... 

"... She'll have plenty of money for some food. Just look after my baby, OK? Thanks, Tamara! I'll tell her you said yes. Oh, and one thing—her friends are just dropping her off at a place called White Oaks Mall. They're going on to St. Louis University... so just call me if she doesn't decide to stay in Springfield, OK? Not that I wouldn't let her go, I just want to know where she's at, OK?" 

"No problem, Mrs. Anderson," Tamara said. "I'll pick her up when?" 

"Oh, about... uh, say, six or so in the evening. She'll call when she's close to town so you don't have to wait there all afternoon. You know where this place is she's going to meet you at?" 

"Yeah, I know where it's at. Tell her I'll pick her up. I'll be waiting for her call, my cell phone number is 217–555–1818," Tamara told Carla. After they said their goodbyes, she hung up the phone. Just then, Anita walked into the room. 

"Who was that? Kristi?" she asked. 

"No... uh, actually, it was my ex's mom. Weird—she just called out of the blue." 

"Well, what did she want? Did she want to know why such a beautiful woman broke her baby boy's heart?" Anita teased. 

"Nooooooo," Tamara said. "Actually, it looks like we're going to be playing hostesses. Emily, John's little sister, is visiting campus Monday and probably Tuesday. She's staying here this coming weekend—I have to pick her up Friday evening around six, and she'll be here until Monday or Tuesday night, depending on when her ride home comes through town. I hope you don't mind, I already said yes...." 

Anita poured some water from the pitcher in the refrigerator and took a drink, nodding her head in thought. "No problem. It's cool. But, you might want to cancel with Kristi, then. I mean, I don't know if you told your parents yet, but if Emily sees Kristi sleeping in your room, she'll probably figure out why you broke up with Jack." 

"It's John, Anne, and don't worry—I already know I'm going to have to call Kristi in a little bit and let her know we can't get together this weekend. And you're right... I don't want to be outed just yet, not to my parents anyway... not until I'm ready." 

Anne, still holding her glass of water, went over to Tamara and rested her free hand on her shoulder. "It doesn't get any easier, does it?" 

Tamara half–smiled and sighed. "In some ways, it does. But I am not looking forward to telling mom and dad." 

"I'm sure they'll understand," Anita said. When Tamara shot her a disbelieving glare, she added, "... Or, at least, they'll say they do. You have never said a bad word about your parents, Tammy. If they love you, they will be able deal with it. And I'm sure they love you." 

"You make it sound easy, Anne." 

"Hey, that's my job. I'm your friend, Tammy. Remember that. I'll be there for ya... well, after I'm done watching the news. Care to join me?" Anne asked on her way back to the living room. 

"In a minute. I have to call Kristi," Tamara said, picking up the phone. 

That Friday, Tamara got a call from Emily's cell phone at about four o'clock. She went to the mall and waited a while, finally spotting Emily waiting by the carousel near the center of the mall. 

"Hey, Emily! Emily, it's me, Tammy!" Tamara said, suddenly aware that her mostly–black hair and its shorter length might keep Emily from recognizing her. She figured the girl had never paid too much attention to her chest, but Emily's first comments threw that assumption right out the window. 

"Tammy? Tammy, is that you? Holy shit, girl! Your hair... your boobs! Damn, John really fucked up letting you go...." Emily said, eying Tamara up and down after briefly hugging her. 

"Language!" Tamara yelled. 

"I'm sorry, Tammy, I just—" 

Tamara laughed at the suddenly frightened teenager. "I'm kidding. Want to do some shopping before we leave? It's nothing like what we have up in Chicago, but this place isn't too shabby." 

Emily seemed anxious to get to the apartment, saying she was tired from the drive and wanted to kick back and relax. So, they forwent the shopping went to Tamara's place, where Anita had already been busy cooking dinner. It was done a little while after they arrived. 

"So, you're the little sister of Tammy's ex, huh? I'm surprised your parents let you stay with us all weekend. For all they know, we're two sisters in Epsilon Alpha Tau Pi, and in the middle of 'binge drinking and girl–girl sex month,'" Anita said to Emily while they and Tamara sat at the kitchen table, eating dinner. Tamara got the joke and let out a little giggle, trying to disguise it with a cough and shooting a look at Anita that silently shouted, "knock it off!" 

"Well," Emily said, "I just kept telling them it was Tammy I was staying with. They were cool with it, as long as I promised not to do go out drinking with frat boys... or something like that. I get away with a lot of stuff John never got away with... I guess they either trust me or they just figure I'll be out of the house next year anyway." 

"Yeah, John did always have it a little tough. I remember some nights he had to be home before I did," Tamara said. 

And as they ate and talked, Tamara realized that having Emily around was going to be a little awkward; it reminded her of her relationship with John. She had no question of her sexual orientation anymore, but at times she still wondered how she could have enjoyed being with John when she was so clearly a lesbian. Certainly, Tamara thought, I must have been straight once... or maybe I was just doing what what expected of me, what good girls do... 

They were finishing dinner when Anita said, "So, what do you plan on doing this weekend?" 

"You sound just like my mother, Anita!" Emily said. 

Tamara started laughing, and Anita shook her head. "Call me Anne. And with that comparison to a teenager's mother, it's official: I'm getting old." Anita got up after saying that and shuffled her feet over to the fridge to get some water, holding her back and hunching over the whole time. The mock elderly act had them all laughing, but when Tamara looked over at Emily, she saw her quickly look away. It was the third time she'd caught her staring. 




How Porn Broke Into Tamara Divine Ch. 03



Tamara asked, "Seriously, though, are you planning on doing anything, Em? You have a whole weekend before your visit to the campus and Anita and I are both pretty much going to sit back and enjoy ourselves tonight, maybe have some wine, and probably go out tomorrow night. Hell, there's a party Sunday night we were thinking about going to, since we don't have an early class Monday. Want to come with us? Have any other ideas?" 

"Actually, Tammy, I was wondering if... well, it sounds stupid, but if you could show me around town. This is my first trip downstate, and I need to pick up a spoon or some other stupid souvenir while I'm here. 

"My parents may have let me come here, but my friends Steph and Josh are going to St. Louis University and let's just say they're... well, they're planning on having a really good time. Before I left, my mom got all crazy thinking I was going to bum around St. Louis all weekend with them. I'd like to stick with you, though, since I don't know anybody else here—" 

Anita interrupted. "OK, I get it! I'm chopped liver. I guess I'll just cry myself into a stupor tomorrow night at Eine Kleine," she said, mock–crying. "Nobody likes me, everybody hates me...." 

"You see what I have to live with, Em. Sure you want to hang around me? Anne wasn't anything like this when we first met. I seem to have a strange effect on girls," Tamara teased. Anita didn't look up, but Tamara could see her blush a little. 

"I'd love to spend tomorrow with you, Tammy," Emily said, a little too eagerly. 

"Well, I guess I can't say no then," Tamara said. "Sorry, Anne. Apparently, I have a date tomorrow!" Tamara and Emily laughed. Anita didn't; instead, she raised an eyebrow and smiled knowingly at her roommate. 

That made Tamara suddenly worry about what she'd done with Emily back in November. I only kissed her, surely she didn't... oh shit, look at how she's smiling at me... does she remember? Does she want to talk about why I broke it off with her brother and then made out with her a day or so later? she wondered. Did she... oh fuck, did she like it?

After dinner, they shared a bottle of wine and watched some TV. Both Tamara and Anita figured it wasn't a big deal if Emily had a drink or two—after all, she was in a college town on a weekend. Anita was going to open another bottle when Emily said that she should get ready for bed—looking at the clock, Tamara saw that it was after midnight. 

"Yeah, I'd better hit the sack, too. Are you sleeping in your clothes?" 

"No," Emily said. "I brought something to sleep in... and I can stay on the couch, no problem. Can I use your room to change, Tammy?" 

"Sure," Tammy said. 

When Emily had gone out of the room, Anita said to Tamara, "Soooo... are you going to try and get some? She's really pretty. Hell, she makes me think twice." 

"I thought you weren't into girls," Tamara replied. 

"Hey, I may be straight, but I'm not blind. Besides," Anita said, getting up to throw away the empty wine bottle, "she sure seems keen on you. I think she's crushing on you." 

"Stop it! She'll hear you!" 

"Hey, I'm just sayin'." 

"What are you 'just sayin'?'" Emily asked when she came out of Tamara's bedroom. She was wearing a pair of tight flannel pajama pants and a very low–cut, satin camisole. 

"Oh, I was just saying that I think you have a cr—" Anita began. 

"Anne!" Tamara yelped, cutting Anita off mid–word. 

Emily raised an eyebrow. "Uhm... OK. So, I'm on the couch, right?" 

"No, you're just standing there," Tamara joked. 

"You know what I mean. I'm going to go ahead and lay down, if you two don't mind," Emily said. 

Tamara and Anita got the hint and got up to go to their bedrooms. The lights were turned out and everything was peaceful... 

... for a few hours. 

Tamara had fallen asleep within minutes of lying down, and her sleep was not dreamless. When she woke up at three in the morning, she was incredibly horny, a little sweaty, and thirsty. Quietly, she tiptoed to the kitchen to get a glass of water. She opened the refrigerator and got the pitcher of filtered water, and left the door open as she poured a glass. Turning around, she saw Emily on the couch by the light of the fridge. 

Her thirst abated for the time being, Tamara stood by the fridge and slipped her hand beneath her shirt, shuddering the familiar strong sensations spread over her chest and nipples. Still looking at the dim figure in the adjacent room, she put the glass of water down and slid her other hand inside her panties. As Tamara's fingers began to probe her wetness, she saw Emily shift position a little. 

Emily was on her side, almost in a fetal position. Tamara continued to play with herself and noticed something strange: as her fingers worked in and out of her pussy, Emily's legs started to move. Her eyes were becoming more accustomed to the dim light of the refrigerator, and she saw that Emily was rubbing her thighs together in her sleep. It was so sexy that Tamara started rubbing her clit, and she came a few seconds later. But, she didn't stop masturbating. 

And Emily didn't stop wriggling around on the couch, either. Tamara saw her bring her hand to her crotch, and she couldn't be sure but she swore she could see Emily rubbing her pussy through her pajamas. When Emily rolled onto her back and let one of her legs drape over the front of the couch, though, there was no mistaking what she was doing with her hand. Tamara knew she probably shouldn't, but she slowly crept toward Emily, using her fingers to work up another orgasm. She held off until she was standing above her sleeping guest, and then she rubbed her clit quickly to elicit another climax. 

Emily turned her head a little, and Tamara noticed she was a sweating. She also saw Emily slip a hand into her pajamas. Tamara kept playing with herself as Emily started doing the same, and vaguely, Tamara remembered Kristi mentioning something about this tingling that would invade her pussy when she was eating Tamara or fucking her with her fingers or a dildo... and that's when it hit her. 

I do have a magic pussy, Tamara thought, remembering months ago when she'd first thought up the phrase during her first shoot with Kristi. "Magic pussy?" she whispered to herself. It sounded so funny that she felt an urge to laugh out loud—but she was able to cut it off and let out only a single snorting sound. 

Instantly, Emily's eyes opened. Tamara froze in place, horrified—to be caught masturbating was bad enough, but to be caught by the girl you were watching in her sleep? 

Before Tamara could react, Emily grabbed her by the shirt and brought her down to the couch. She slid one arm around Tamara's body and held her head with her other hand, and then brought the surprised college student's lips to her own. Her boldness was rewarded with a kiss that was as magical as the one she remembered from Thanksgiving break. 

Tamara got up from the couch and started to go back to her room, stopping when she heard Emily whisper. 

"Don't go, Tammy," Emily said quietly. "Please...." 

Tamara froze where she stood. 

Emily got up from the couch and walked around to face Tamara. "Don't go. I've been waiting for this moment since Thanksgiving... you don't know what you did to me." 

"Emily, don't," Tamara said. "I didn't mean—" 

"No. I have to say this. That was the best kiss I ever had, and all I wanted to do was what you said—I just wanted to relax, and go with it. I can still feel those words warm on my ear, Tammy. And you just left me high and dry. Well, not so dry... but now—" 

"Emily, I'm sorry about—" 

"But now," Emily said, "now, I finally get to do this. I've been with a few boys and even one girl since the last time I saw you. The boys are great, but the girl didn't kiss nearly as well as you did. Not even the boys can get me as wet as you did with that one kiss... I've tried being with a girl and it's not the same... but you... you're different. I know, it doesn't make sense. But... please, can we..." 

Tamara saw the girl was struggling, and used the pause as an opportunity to try and get out of the situation. "Emily, look, I need to go to bed and so do you. Let's—" 

"Can we go to your room? You're all I can think about, even when I'm with my boyfriend... being with you is all I've been able to think about... please, I want you... I need you...." 

The sight of the young woman begging to be fucked pushed Tamara's arousal to a new level. Abandoning her attempt to finish the night alone in bed, she said, "Well, since you put it that way...," and slid a hand into Emily's pajama bottoms. She cut off Emily's surprised gasp with a kiss and fingered the high schooler to a quick, small orgasm. 

Having given Emily a taste of things to come, Tamara sauntered to her bedroom. Emily followed. They kissed on the bed, and managed to take off each other's clothes without breaking their kiss for more than a few seconds at a time. 

Emily went down first, which surprised Tamara. She could feel the younger girls eagerness and inexperience. But, Emily did know a enough about eating pussy to get Tamara really, really close to a climax. Emily had been squeezing Tamara's tits and flicking her nipples with her fingers, but Tamara felt one of Emily's hands let go of one of her boobs and felt it trail down her body... and then off it completely. 

Tamara opened her eyes and confirmed what she thought: Emily's arm was tucked under her body, and Tamara just knew she was fingering herself. Emily's tongue got more active, and she was practically rubbing her face into Tamara's cunt, trying to get her off. The sight of such an sexy teenager doing that (even in the dim light provided by the only nightlight in the bedroom) was more than Tamara could take, and muffling a moan with a pillow, she shook violently as she came all over Emily's pretty face. 

"Oh damn, girl, you're not too bad," Tamara whispered. "Not bad at all. Now get up here and lay on your back. I'll show you how it's done." 

"Shut up and fuck me," Emily said as she flipped onto her back and spread her legs. "My pussy is literally on fire. It's like these sparkles of... damn, I don't know what... I've never been this horny before and I need you... please, lick me...." 

Standing at the foot of the bed, staring at Emily's slit, Tamara started to play with herself—and not lightly, either. Immediately, Emily twitched. When Tamara slid two fingers into her own pussy, she saw Emily start to twist and writhe on the bed. 

"God... oh please, get down here... please..." Emily begged. 

"What does... it feel like?" Tamara said, having trouble controlling her voice. Even after all those months, her hands still made it hard for her to maintain control. 

"I can... oh I'm on fire down there... it's like this... feeling... please, please lick me... touch me...." 

"How... about... now? UNGH!" Tamara said as she gave herself a nice orgasm. 

Emily's hips lifted off the bed, and she squeezed her legs together. "Oh God, how are you doing this? Fuck... it feels so... damn, on fire... so fucking wet... please...." 

Tamara waited for Emily to unclench her thighs and knelt between the teenagers legs. She then placed the tip of her tongue on Emily's clit. Emily was fought to keep still, but the feelings of unbridled sexual heat emanating from Tamara's tongue made it hard. Then, Tamara slowly slid two fingers into Emily's sex, smiling when she heard the younger girl's breath catch. She pulled them out, but let them rest right on her nether lips. 

"You'd better not scream," Tamara said, "or I may have to punish you." 

"Please... just... please just f–f–fuck... please...." Emily was having trouble getting the words out. When she felt the fingers plunge back into her, she stopped trying to speak and instead tried not to wake Anita. 

Tamara kept this slow fingerbanging up for a little while. Then, with one swift movement, Tamara sucked Emily's clit into her mouth a little and pushed three fingers into Emily's cunt. Emily gasped arched her back a little in response. Tamara flicked Emily's clit with the tip of her tongue while she finger–fucked her, and Emily's panting became more and more vocal. 

When Emily came, she could not suppress the scream. 

"Oh, now that's a bad girl... and I'm definitely going to have to do something about that." 

Emily couldn't answer with anything more than, "Oh God... oh fuck, yeah... oh.... sorry... damn, I just... came so hard..." 

"I think I'm going to have to find something to cover that mouth. We don't want Anne to get up, do we?" Tamara said as she got up to shut her bedroom door. 

She was about to grab the doorknob when she noticed a faint buzzing sound. Sneaking a peak into her roommate's bedroom (Anita's room was right by Tamara's and she'd left her door open as well), she saw her roommate above her covers. Her legs were spread wide, and Tamara could just barely see the white vibrator she was using on her cunt. 

Tamara went back to her room and shut her door as quietly as she could. I definitely have a special pussy, she thought as she looked at Emily. Sliding her hands to her pussy, Tamara used one finger to fuck herself and another finger from her other hand to play with her clit. 

"Oh fuck... fuck, please, please come back, Tamara... I promise I won't scream again... my pussy is going crazy, please, I'll be quiet...." 

Getting on the bed, Tamara positioned her pussy right above Emily's mouth. "Your mouth is going to be too busy to make much noise at all," she told Emily. And with that, Tamara descended on Emily's pussy, bringing the younger girl to her second of many climaxes that night. They fucked until the sun started to came up. 

When Emily was sure Tamara was asleep, she carefully got out of the bed, put her pajamas on, and slipped quietly into the living room. She covered up and tried to get some more sleep before Tamara woke up... or before Anita noticed that she wasn't on the couch. Sexually satisfied like she'd never been before, she closed her eyes and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

It would be up to her to explain to Anita why the refrigerator door was left open all night.



How Porn Broke Into Tamara Divine Ch. 04



Distant murmurs and the smell of frying bacon roused Tamara in the morning. She threw on a pair of panties and an oversized T–shirt that she sometimes slept in and went over to her dresser. Better brush out this bed head, she thought when she saw what she looked like in the mirror. After grabbing a brush and picking out the loose hair it'd gathered the last time she'd used it, she was going to start working it through her tangled, dark hair. But, before she could even start, the brush slipped from her hand and knocked a picture from her dresser onto the floor. Then, she heard a call from the kitchen. 

"Who left the fridge open all night?" 

Anita's voice rang loud and with a hint of amusement. It startled Tamara, and that made her giggle to herself. Busted, she thought. She picked up the picture and stopped to look closely at it. It was one John had taken of her over the previous summer, and she looked cute. But something clicked in her head and she froze, staring at the picture in disbelief. She held it up and compared the picture of her in the bikini to her reflection in the mirror. 

Her long, naturally blonde hair was gone—in its place was shoulder–length dark brown hair, and she could tell that the dark brown was almost an illusion of the sunlight that was shining through her window. Her hair was, in reality, almost black, and where there had been blonde highlights a month or so ago she now had dark brown highlights. How does hair get shorter when you don't get a haircut? Hell, how did all of my hair start growing dark?? 

Her breasts, too, had undergone a much more drastic change than she'd realized—she'd been just passing off the added cleavage as a late growth spurt, but she now realized that she only dismissed it because it had been so gradual. Now that she thought about it, she had just bought all new bras—D cups, because her C's were far too tight—and she remembered that when that picture had been taken, she'd been wearing an A cup bra. 

Tamara dropped the picture again. How could she have not noticed how much she had changed? She saw this picture every day when she got ready for school or "work." As if she suddenly didn't believe her reflection was real, and momentarily forgetting her hands' unnaturally aphrodisiacal touch, she reached under her shirt to feel her tits. They were real, all right—and her hands, just by gently cupping them, had excited her nipples and made her pussy gush with intense need. She stepped back to her bed and lay down, quickly fingering her slit to answer its demand for attention. 

And as she (now suspiciously and grimly) expected, she brought herself off to an acutely satisfying climax much more quickly than was probably normal. As she lay on her bed, half afraid and more than a little panicked about her physical transformations, a disturbing fact bubbled to the surface of her mind: it had something to do with Jeff. The thought appeared out of the blue, but it was very strong. 

Her power of suggestion, which had grown from almost nothing to the point where all she had to do was speak into a girl's ear to get her to do anything she said, manifested itself after the first modeling gig. And she knew how her tongue affected girls when it was too busy to speak, as well. Her hands, alive with a power to turn any woman on like a switch (herself included), seemed to gain that ability after her second shoot. And, there was the fact now, if she so much as touched her seemingly perpetually aroused pussy, every other girl around would squirm and eventually make an excuse to go to the bathroom, or to bed, or anywhere else they could go where they could be alone—and Tamara knew what they did when alone, too. That also started at the Carlinville studio. 

I have to call Jeff, she realized. I need to talk to him now.... She didn't really know why she had to call Jeff, but it was suddenly one of the more important things she knew she had to do. She remembered that he told her after the last shoot that he would be in California until April 15th—tax day. So, she left herself a note to call him, and placed it on her mirror. 

Tamara stared at her reflection, running her fingers through her hair and even lightly over her T–shirt. I wonder why nobody else has mentioned my changes... well, it has been gradual... my hair's been changing... no, falling out! My long blonde hairs fell out, and this dark hair grew... my tits have grown pretty slowly... now that I think about it, Emily did mention how I'd changed... Mom's been down a few times, and even though we only visited for a little while, she didn't say anything but she had to have noticed... holy shit, what's been happening to me, and why haven't I noticed? Every time she tried to properly explain her physical changes, she would look back to the note she'd just written. 

Leave it alone. Jeff will explain it, some part of Tamara told her as she walked into the kitchen. 

"Oh there you are, Sleeping Beauty," Anita called to her friend. "Get enough rest? Fell refreshed? Have a good time last night? Can I get you something for breakfast? Would you like some bacon, eggs, milk, or hamburger? Care to explain why I have to cook all perishable food that was in the refrigerator because you left it open all night? Well, that's not fair... after all, I did throw out the milk, so you can't have any of that... but care to explain?" 

"Uh... what do you... uhm, Em? Et tu, Emi–lay?" Tamara said, sitting down at the table. Her earlier epiphany about her physical changes faded to the back of her mind. 

Emily was blushing deeply from Anita's "have a good time" quip. But, she was laughing a little bit too, and finally she said, "Sorry, Tammy. I narc'ed on you. She said she wouldn't feed me if I didn't say which one of us left the refrigerator open." Then, Emily pouted in a way that made Tamara want to take her to bed again. 

She has no idea how absolutely adorable she is, Tamara thought. "That's OK, Em. I'll just have to think of a way to punish you later." 

Emily's flush deepened, and she covered her mouth to hide a smile. Tamara just coolly smiled at her, and Anita snort–laughed. That sound made Tamara break down and laugh. 

"You know what? I don't care which one of you left it open. But you're both going to go to Shop 'n Save to buy some food. I know you have the money, Tammy. You models don't seem to have any problems with getting cash," Anita said. 

"Model?" Emily asked, cocking her head to the side a little. 

"Yeah... I, uh, do some... hmmmm, let's just say... modeling," Tamara said, raising one eyebrow but not making eye contact with anything other than her plate of bacon and eggs. The accent on the word "modeling" left little doubt about the nature of said modeling. 

"Oh... I see," Emily responded, smirking. "I guess since we have to eat all this meat for breakfast—and I assume lunch, too—you'll have to think of something to do to burn off these calories so your... modeling... doesn't suffer." 

"I'm sure I can think of something," Tamara said, eying Emily suggestively. 

"You're not being coy, if that's what either of you think,"Anita told the flirts as she finished frying up several hamburgers. "But if it's exercise you need, then you can walk your butts down to Shop 'n Save and bring back some buns for these burgers. And some pickles and couple of tomatoes. We're having bacon cheeseburgers for lunch, and probably supper. Get something to go with it." 

"There's no way in hell I'm walking, Anne. Let me finish my breakfast, and I'll go to the store. You wanna come, Emily?" 

Emily chuckled before she could stop herself, making Anita groan in mock disgust. "Look, enough of that. You two woke me up last night, and it took me awhile to finally get back to sleep. Then, I get up and all the food in the fridge is warm, so I had to start cooking. I'm glad you two got some last night, but you've got to focus." 

Tamara and Emily exchanged quizzical glances, and turned to Anita, who was already facing them. 

"Focus on... tomatoes... and some kind of potato salad... made with mustard...," she said. "Focus... on... buns...." 

"OK, OK, we get it," Tamara said. "I will have no problem focusing on your buns, Anne." 

"I can't stop thinking about them myself," Emily added. 

"I give up. You two are... (sigh) Never mind. Just hurry up and eat," Anita said, forcing her voice not to break into a giggle. 

An hour later, Emily and Tamara were on their way to the grocery store, and Emily finally asked the question that Tamara had known was coming sooner or later. 

"So... is... uh, what happened last night... why you and my brother broke up? I mean, you like girls. Don't know how you hid it before, but why were with John so long if you were a lesbian?" 

Tamara thought for a few moments before answering. "Well... I don't know. I think I was happy with John, but... uh, well, let's just say I've... had my mind opened... at college. Look, I liked John. I think—" 

"You think?" Emily asked, her voice sounding harder than she meant. "Sorry, it's just...." 

Tamara waited for the end of Emily's sentence, and when it didn't come, she continued. "I was saying, I think that I was just being a good, straight girl, Em. I won't gross you out with tales of my sexual escapades with your brother—" 

"Thanks." 

"... Suffice it to say we had some fun. But when I'm with Kristi, my main girlfriend, or someone else—" 

"Someone else? You have a girlfriend? A main girlfriend? I'm sorry, that sounds like I'm judging you... I just didn't know, that's all; please—" 

"Don't worry, Em, I know you're surprised. No, Kristi and I are not exclusive. It's not a typical arrangement, is it? We're models and we hang out a lot, and we have sex, but we're not strict girlfriends. Anyway, like I was saying... uh, where was I?" 

"'When I'm with Kristi...'" 

"Oh. Anyway, when I'm with Kristi, or even with you... damn, I don't know how to describe it. It's just... right. It gives me more than just a sexual rush, it makes me feel... complete. When I look back, I didn't get the feeling I get with women when I was with guys. I know it sounds dumb, but it's the truth." 

"No dumber than me begging you to fuck me last night," Emily responded. "Hey, is 'dumber' even a word?" 

For some reason, that struck Tamara as funny and she started to laugh, only stopping when they got to Shop 'n Save. She parked the car, and sobering, she asked, "Emily, tell me. Did you come here just to see if you were a lesbian? CIU is nice, but it's dull; St. Louis University is more your speed, I bet. Why didn't you go there with your friends?" 

The smile slid from Emily's face. "I... I don't know. I don't think so. Like I told you last night, I've been with a few people since Thanksgiving. Most were boys and one was a girl." 

"You said the girl wasn't as good a kisser, and that the guys couldn't turn you on like I could," Tamara reminded her. 

"Yeah, but... still... when I was with Amanda, well, she was really into it, and she was a good kisser, but nothing near to you. You light my whole body on fire with a touch, a kiss, a lick... but she didn't come close. I had a lot more fun with the guys." 

"What?" Tamara asked, genuinely curious. "Well. I guess that makes you bi." 

"Bi? I don't think so, Tammy. I need a guy. I need that dick in my pussy. It may not be as good as your tongue or fingers... but... I don't know. Even though you got me off harder than Mike or even Bill ever could, it's just... well, like you said: it feels right. It makes me feel... complete." 

"So, what should we do for the next few nights? Do you want to go find a college guy to—" Tamara began before getting cut off. 

"No! No, Tammy, this weekend, I only want you. And maybe Anne, but I don't think she's game. And if that makes me bi, then—" 

"I was only kidding, Em," Tamara said. She opened the door and got out of her car. "C'mon, let's grab some buns." 

Emily got out of the car and ran around the car, stopping in front Tamara and thrusting her ass out, inviting a squeeze. "You can grab these," she said while wiggling her ass in front of her lover. 

Calling Emily's bluff, Tamara lightly ran her finger over the small bit of exposed skin between the top of Emily's jeans and the bottom of her shirt. Emily took a deep breath through her suddenly clinched teeth and froze as the sensations flowed from her small of her back straight down to her crotch. 

"Should I grab them now, here in the parking lot?" Tamara whispered into the young woman's ear. "Do you think you could stop me? Would you?" By that point, she was sliding her hand down the back of Emily's pants a few inches. 

Emily couldn't even say a word. Her nipples had popped up so hard that there was actually a dull ache to them. If she weren't frozen by the insanely powerful and all–to–public jolt of pleasure caused by Tamara's soft touch, Emily would have reached up and squeezed and twisted the ache right out of her nips. But, it didn't come to that; after toying with her for a few more seconds, Tamara withdrew her hand. 

"How... how did... h–how do you do that? It felt so good I couldn't move, and all you did... was touch me," Emily stammered when Tamara started walking to the store. "I would have let you... you know... right here... no matter who saw, I would have let you..." 

"I know," Tamara said, turning around. "I just have that effect on the ladies. Want another demonstration now, or should we wait till tonight?" 

Emily licked her lips and regained her composure. 

"Tonight, then. Now, let's get some food. And maybe this time, when we go to bed, we can leave the refrigerator out of our little... games," Emily teased. 

Lunch, as expected, consisted of bacon cheeseburgers. And, after dinner (which consisted of even more bacon cheeseburgers), the ladies found themselves doing what most people think women always do when they congregate: they watched TV, sipped wine, and held an informal belching contest. Tamara and Emily had rented a few DVDs while they were out, and as the movies played, the wine flowed more and more freely... as did the burps. When the gastrointestinal mini–Olympics were winding to a close, Emily and Tamara sat together on the couch, and Anita was dozing under a blanket on the recliner, drifting in and out of consciousness. Emily sat down the third empty bottle of wine, and when she stood up to get another one, Tamara stopped her. 

"No, Em, that's fine. We don't want to be drunk... but a nice buzz doesn't hurt at all," a tipsy Tamara said. She was in that magical state between sobriety and intoxication—she knew she shouldn't drive (not that she wanted to, anyway) or anything like that, but she thought that she was still capable of some level of rational thought. But the wine, having an almost magical flair for dampening inhibitions, did a curious thing to Tamara's mind when she felt Emily's hand sneaking into her shorts. 

"Let's go to your room, Tammy," Emily said, her fingers growing bolder. Almost at that exact moment, Emily clenched her thighs together and wiggled as if something were fingering her pussy at the same time. 

The subtle motion did not go unnoticed by Tamara. The alcohol in her system made her a little more daring than normal; mischievously, she removed Emily's hand from her crotch and stood up, quickly gesturing to Emily to stay seated. Then, Tamara walked over to the couch and whispered something into Anita's ear. When Anita breathily agreed with a "Yesssssss...," Tamara removed the blanket covering Anita and sat back down by Emily. 

"I told her to sit there, not to get up, and to keep her eyes closed and pretend she's in her bedroom," Tamara whispered to Emily. 

"What? What makes you think she'll do that? I mean, why would you even say that—is this some game you two play?" Emily asked, trying to steady her voice. Her words quivered a little despite her efforts though—and Tamara knew her soft words were melting Emily's self control. 

Leaning close, Tamara nibbled on Emily's earlobe before saying softly, "No games, nothing like that. Just trust me. She'll do whatever I tell her, if I say it close enough to her ear... just like you'll do. It's a trick I know. You believe me." 

"Ohhhhh," Emily whispered, the warm, moist air of Tamara's words melting her will. All doubt drained from her face, and she asked, "Do you know any other tricks?" 

"I thought you'd never ask," Tamara whispered, still close to Emily's ear. "You already know about my hands, but I have one more for you. I want you to make me cum... but you can't touch yourself. You can try, but you'll find it impossible to reach your pussy until I let you." 

Tamara kicked off her shorts and spread her legs, laying back to give Emily easy access. Emily got naked and knelt half–on and half–off the couch, placing her face right in front of Tamara's pussy for the second time in as many nights. Right before she took her first lick, Tamara lowered one leg and let it fall over the front of the couch. 

"I want you try and keep an eye on Anita. Watch what happens as you get me going. She'll... whoa!" 

Emily had already begun. Tamara's pussy was wet with arousal, so Emily's middle finger slid in easily. So did her index finger. The tingle in Emily's pussy started to make her hips shake until they settled into a grinding motion, but it was when her mouth found Tamara's clit that the tactile sensation of pure need in her sex started to cloud her mind. She reached between her legs with her free hand... and it stopped, grasping her thigh and going no further. 

Tamara was nearing her first orgasm, and Emily was confused. She kept working on Tamara's cunt, but the closer Tamara got, the more Emily needed to tend to her own fires—but try as she did, her hand would not go near her pussy. She even tried her other hand, to no avail. 

When Emily felt Tamara's hands grab her hair and hold on tight, Emily just relaxed and let Tamara take control of her head's motions. Tamara rubbed Emily's face into her pussy, but somehow, Emily was still able to finger her. When Tamara came, she quickly (and raggedly) said, "Look at Anita!" 

Between her need to please Tamara and the maddening need that she could not answer between her own legs, Emily was having a hard time concentrating. But, when Tamara turned Emily's head slightly, she looked over and saw Anita—and what she saw shocked her: Anita's legs were draped over the sides of the chair, her shorts at the foot of the recliner. Her sex was covered only by a thin blue panty, but it was clear that she'd sneaked her hand inside them and was massaging her clit. Her other hand was playing with her tits through her shirt. Tamara turned Emily's head back to face her glistening folds again, and Emily continued (and redoubled) her efforts, finally getting Tamara off a few frantic minutes later. 

Emily's face was smeared with Tamara's wetness. She was glad she'd gotten Tamara off, but she was starting to wonder how strong the tingles between her legs could get before she went crazy; when Tamara came on her face, Emily's pussy nearly exploded with unsatisfied need. When Tamara let go of Emily's hair, Emily looked over at Anita, who was furiously fingering herself beneath her panties. Emily rested her head on Tamara's crotch, as if she were afraid of letting it out of her tongue's reach. 

"Figure it out yet, Em? No? Well, let me demonstrate. Whenever my pussy feels good...," Tamara said, sliding back so Emily could sit up and observe, "so does hers... and yours. Watch," she whispered, slowly sliding a finger into herself and closing her eyes as she began to cum again. 

A whimper from Anita signaled her climax, and she didn't stop fingering herself until she shook with another orgasm—one that clearly soaked her panties. But Emily couldn't get her hands to where they needed to be. Gone were the tingles that had been teasing her; now it felt vaguely like fingers and tongues tormenting her pussy, telling her that she could cum if only she could touch herself. 




How Porn Broke Into Tamara Divine Ch. 04



"Damn... fuck, that's... unbelievable... Tammy, please, I need to... I need..." 

"Yes?" Tamara asked innocently. 

"Let me... let me touch my... let me touch myself... I need to cum...." 

Tamara lurched forward, pushing a surprised Emily back onto the arm of the couch. She held her finger up to Emily's mouth and let her lick it clean, and then used it to slowly trace a meandering line from her mouth to her pussy. Every inch of skin Tamara touched lit up with sexual pleasure, and a rippling wave of arousal trailed the finger all the way down to its target: Emily's pussy. And when Tamara's fingers entered Emily, she came so hard she nearly passed out. But, she managed not to scream. Keeping that scream inside took all of her strength, but she didn't want to chance waking up Anita. 

"This is our little secret, Emily," Tamara whispered to the panting, recovering girl. "You can't tell anyone, ever. Now, I'm going to bed. Why don't you cover Anita back up, and join me. Oh, and you can touch yourself again." Tamara got up and was going to go straight to her room, but decided to watch Emily finger herself as she made her way to the recliner where Anita lay masturbating. It was such an amusing and erotic sight that Tamara let one of her own fingers stir her own sex. 

Emily awkwardly threw the blanket over Anita with her free hand and scurried back to Tamara, kissing her all the way to the bedroom. Emily came when they finally got into the room—thanks to Tamara's well–placed and surprisingly slippery finger gently probing about one knuckle deep in her anus. To both girls, the rest of the night was something of a blur. A nice, slightly drunk, insanely erotic blur. At some point, Tamara's toys were brought out and lubed. And by the time they passed out, they weren't sure there was any sex act known to mankind (or womankind) that as deprived and sexually uncontrolled as what they'd just experienced. Even so, they knew that if they only had the energy, they would do it all night long. 

The trio spent much of Sunday cruising around town and shopping, once Anita's hangover faded. She was at a loss to explain how she fell asleep on the chair in the living room, but she seemed thankful that someone covered her up. Later that evening, Emily got a call. Her friends who were in St. Louis had decided to leave earlier th an expected and would pick her up Tuesday morning, cutting her visit one night shorter than she had wanted. 

All three ladies were pretty worn out that night and Emily was clearly more tired than Tamara and Anita, so when Emily lay down on the couch, Tamara told her to get some sleep—she'd need it for the day ahead. She had to get a card signed by four professors, after all. But, Tamara did promise to give her a goodbye present she'd never forget Monday night. And judging by the look on Emily's face as her friends (who arrived only two hours after she and Tamara had finally concluded their night–long sex marathon) picked her up to take her back home to Chicago, Tamara figured that she'd made good on her promise. 

*****

"Fucking tax day," moaned Tamara when she saw the mass of people standing in line in front of the large (and until tax season, mostly empty) building that served as Jeff's photo studio. Three tax firms had set up temporary offices to assist the good people of central Illinois in the tricky preparation of taxes that involved farm income and deductions for things that would make an auditor's head hurt. 

This, of course, meant that Tamara had to weave her way through lines just to get in the door. It didn't matter to most of the people in the lines that she wasn't going into the building for taxes. Some of them were holding brief cases (and even shoe boxes) full of receipts and forms and had been waiting for an hour, and they weren't about to let a large–chested woman with raven black hair and a perfect face through the line ahead of them. All were equal on this day. Beautiful, ugly, thin, fat, rich, poor, executives, and farmers—it didn't matter to Uncle Sam. 

Tamara actually heard one woman in her late 40's or early 50's near the door say to her apparent husband, "Big–Tit Black Hair Barbie can just wait with the rest of us." That remark dashed away the last of Tamara's patience, and she decided that in order to get inside the building before next tax day, she'd have to take matters into her own hands. Lightly and discretely touching the woman's neck, she waited for her victim to melt with what had to be more arousal than she'd felt for 20 years. 

The woman's nipples popped visibly beneath her top, and when she finally started to tremble a little, Tamara whispered to her, "Please concentrate on getting your husband to fuck your brains out three times a week, and move out of my way. Oh, and I hear he likes blow jobs first thing in the morning... every morning. Wake him up with them every day you can." Tamara then broke contact, and the older woman moved aside to "accidentally" brush her hand up against her husband's crotch. A few people in line noticed and a couple of them even stared at the woman who was now openly rubbing her husband's manhood through his jeans. Tamara used this distraction to slip inside the building, and she immediately went to the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. 

Checking her compact mirror after everybody got off at the third floor (the tax companies had set up shops on floors one, two, and three), she tried to mentally prove for the millionth time what she already knew to be true. "Jeff better have a good explanation for the hair. And the tits. And my... damn, and my hands, mouth, pussy, pubic hair... or lack thereof," she mumbled to herself, remembering that she now had only a thin "landing strip" of hair above her snatch. 

She didn't know how she was going to confront him, or if even if she should; after all, if he was responsible for the changes in her body, what else could he do to her? And, why was she so damn sure it was him in the first place? That really bothered her more than the fact that she only recently recognized the changes in her body as somehow unnatural. She pushed those thoughts to the back of her head as best she could as the door opened and she stepped onto the top floor of the building. 

What she saw in front of the elevator doors both surprised her and forced a few pieces of a puzzle she was barely aware of to suddenly fall together: Wendy. Wendy is part of this? What the hell is going on? 

Wendy looked pretty much the same as Tamara remembered from their last gig together, although her breasts seemed a little bigger. And while she couldn't be sure, she didn't remember Wendy's hair being that particular shade of red. Before Tamara could say anything ("What are you doing here, Jeff said this was a private meeting!" came to her mind), Wendy did a turn and showed off her body, making sure to run her hands through her hair. 

"Don't you just love this shade! It's natural, too. I know you're confused, but Jeff made everything make sense... Oh, and check this out...," Wendy said, sliding her hand into her shorts. Tamara was going to ask her what she was doing, but she saw Wendy's hand moving over her pussy through her shorts and felt a sharp tingling in her own pussy. Now that she knew what was going on, she thought it was a curious sensation; it was a little like when Kristi fingered her, but the feeling was a little more fuzzy and vague. Whatever it was, it made Tamara's pussy drip with arousal. 

"So... that's what it... mmmmm, feels like...," Tamara whispered, not meaning to say anything out loud at all. She rocked her hips and wiggled a little as the feeling grew. 

Wendy just winked at her, and without withdrawing her hand from her shorts, she said, "Yeah, that's what it feels like. I've been diddling myself in public for a few weeks, just to watch the girls react. This is going to be soooo fucking cool... mmmmmm, oh yeah, Jeff's down the hall. Go on, I'll join you all in little while." 

Tamara had already started to carefully (as her pussy felt like it was being tickled with hot, invisible feathers) walk past Wendy before she noticed the "you all" part. 'Join you all?' What does she mean, 'you all?' Jeff said he wanted me to come by myself... damn, speaking of 'cum,' I wish Wendy would stop that... damn, I need to... uh, find Kristi.... 

When she opened the door to the studio that was at the end of the hall that Wendy was "guarding," she saw Kristi. She was sitting on a nice, comfortable–looking chair, and on her lap was Julie, the girl with the perfect breasts who had been with Tamara on her second modeling gig. Julie's legs were spread wide and she reclined back onto Kristi, who was busy working Julie's hairless pussy and clit. And judging by the way Julie was moving and moaning, and by her own pussy's cries for attention, Tamara had a feeling that Julie was about to get off. 

"Alright, ladies, that'll do," a male voice that Tamara knew to be Jeff's announced. 

Immediately, Kristi's body lurched and spasmed so hard and intensely that she threw the orgasming Julie from her lap onto the floor. Tamara, who experienced a little orgasm herself, was going to ask if Kristi was OK, but a quick look at the woman's sexually spent and barely conscious face told her that her non–exclusive girlfriend had just cum so hard that she probably wasn't really aware of the fact that she'd just thrown Julie to the floor. Julie, on the other hand, rolled over to her back and seemed all too happy to be on the floor. Idly, and with her eyes closed, she ran her hands over her body and moaned softly. 

"Oooooh. Kristi, you must be more careful," Jeff said as he seemingly appeared from out of nowhere. "Since Julie is pretty much gone, why don't you be a dear and fetch Wendy for me, OK?" Immediately, Kristi came to her senses enough to scamper to the door in search of Wendy. 

The studio space was fairly empty (even the privacy curtains for the "changing rooms" had been taken down) and there was not really any place where a person to hide, but Tamara could have sworn that Jeff had not been just standing there a moment ago. She was going to ask him about that, and about everything else that had been happening that she was sure he was responsible for, but he lifted his hand and she could not speak. When Kristi left the room, he walked over to where two sofas were arranged on the far side of the room. Tamara followed, and took a seat after he did. She hadn't seen the sofas either, but of more concern was the fact that she was walking even though her mind was ordering her legs to stand still. 

"OK, Tammy. I know you're pretty confused as to what's going on, even though you've pretty much figured it out. You were set to figure it out once you realized how much you'd changed... to be honest, I was starting to worry." 

Cryptic, Tamara thought. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.... 

"Maybe it wasn't a good idea, but that's not important. OK, where to begin... yes, your body has changed—your tits are much larger and your hair, once blonde and past the middle of your back, is black and barely shoulder–length. You can light the desires of any woman to supernova level with a few touches, and when your vagina is even slightly stimulated, other girls in the room seem to feel it. Did I leave anything out?" 

A loud door slam startled Tamara, but she didn't turn around. Instead, she said, "Well... there's the fact that if I kiss or... uhm, lick a girl, she melts like butter. And, a girl will do whatever I say, if I whisper into her ear." 

Jeff snapped his finger and nodded in concession. Laughing a little, he said, "Yep, you got me there. Heh, the ol' mouth routine. One of my first tricks, and an easy one to teach a girl. Funny, I remembered doing that to Wendy, Julie, and Kristi... but for some reason, I forgot about you. Amazing, seeing as how you've come so far." 

"What do you mean, I've 'come so far?' And what the hell has been going on?" Tamara yelled. "Look at me! I didn't used to have these tits! And my hair—how do you go from natural blond locks to short black hair, without a single haircut or dye?! I don't know how, but I know you're... you're... ooooooh, behind..." Tamara's voice died down; with Wendy and Julie kissing opposite sides of her neck and her shoulders, and Kristi whispering in her ear to calm down, Tamara's fight dissolved into a puddle of mild concern, a strange curiosity, and instant arousal. 

"That's more like it. Yes, I'm behind 'it.' I've been... tinkering... with you. More accurately, I've been preparing you. When I first saw you, I saw a lot of potential for my little business. See, an old friend of mine told me that there were things that you could do in California or New York that you couldn't get away with in a wholesome place like... heh, guess which random Midwestern state he mentioned." 

"Mmmmm... Ill... Illinois...?" Tamara moaned. Her tormentors had not stopped their light oral caresses. 

"Yes! Illinois. 'You can't get away with it in Illinois,' he told me, and then he offered my a huge chunk of his video distribution business as a bet. It's easier in California, you see. For one thing, you don't have to gradually change people—they come off the bus from places like this, and they invariably end up in porn. You can literally take them aside after they've done a few low–budget 'amateur' videos, rework their body and attitude in a single afternoon, and boom! Instant starlet. Nobody even asks questions anymore. Hell, so many women do it without our help, we don't even have to worry about getting caught. 

"Yeah, some of the bitches actually catch on to the fact that things aren't on the up–and–up and go looking for guys who can do the stuff I can do when one of their porno friends comes home one night with a rack she didn't go to the set with. But I faced a special challenge here: nice college girls don't choose a school in fucking Springfield, Illinois so they can get boob jobs and go into porn. No, here, I had to ease you all in, and do it under the radar so nobody would notice what I was doing. And here we are. Ladies, leave her alone for a few minutes. We need to talk business. Go entertain yourselves." 

The three girls left Tamara and Jeff to talk. Jeff, though, seemed to be done talking for the moment, so Tamara did the first thing that came to mind: she stood up and removed her clothes, and not in an erotic manner either. Then, she did a slow turn, and finally she sat back down. Interestingly, she was not at all concerned that she was sitting naked in front of a man who had just told her that he had been reworking her body. But, one particular detail did bother her, so she asked about it. 

"OK, how did you do... this," she said, her hands holding up her tits, "to me?" The touch put her arousal into overdrive, but she mastered it so she could talk. "And... now that I think of it, why am I so sure it's you in the first place? Why do I believe you? I'm taking this pretty easy...." Tamara trailed off, curious as to why she was so indifferent to the idea of someone reshaping her from a stick–thin girl into a wet dream. 

"Well, I didn't want to take forever trying to prove to you that I can do boob jobs with my mind, so I'm making you believe and accept it. As for 'how,' though...," Jeff said, repeating her question as if he wasn't quite sure she'd asked it. "Weird. Julie, Wendy, and Kristi didn't ask about how I did it. Then again, I was in their heads a lot. Well, 'how.' Hmmmm... I guess I can't really explain how I do what I do. I just do it. I reach out and change things. Playing with your brain isn't as easy as it sounds, but it's nothing compared to changing your body—much less doing so gradually. But, controlling minds is just something most of us porn mongers do. Hell, if it weren't for some annoying regulations, we'd do it to everybody who had any potential for looking good naked on camera. 

"But that's beside the point. The fact is this: you're here, and my little quartet is ready to start a revolution in porn. See, you're going to be a star. I've created you for this. You, Julie, Wendy, and your special friend Kristi are going to star in a series of videos in which you go around with a small camera crew—say, one or two people—and seduce cute, straight women. What do you say?" 

As Jeff said that, Kristi brought what appeared to be a multi–page contract clamped to a clip board. A pen dangling from a string was attached to the clip board, and Kristi set it on the couch next to Tamara. 

"Well... wait a minute," Tamara said, trying to focus on what was being suggested. At the suggestion of seducing straight women, her whole body perked up. But, that could have also been due to the action Julie and Wendy were enjoying off in some unlit part of the loft. Then again... this does sound... intriguing. I've done this on my own a few times... and I've been naked and worse in front of the camera several times. Is there seriously anything to lose? I'll still have my business degree.... 

No. I can't do this, it's crazy... but why do I want to? Why am I even considering this? 

"Look, Tammy. I know it's a little strange to be a business student, sign a contract to go into porn, and then graduate before making your first movie. But think. You can always use your degree when our contract is over in five years. I can even give you a few physical tweaks so nobody will recognize you. In the meantime, you will make shitloads of money—just look at that contract. People pay top dollar to see straight girls get bagged by lesbians. With me around, you will not ever have to worry about—" 

"Wait. If you can make people do whatever you want, why do you need me? And why do my hands... my mouth..." Tamara said, her speech losing steam as she realized she didn't even know how to ask such an insane question. Why don't I just ask why he gave me my 'magical powers?' she thought. 

"I gave you your 'magical powers,'" he said, answering her thought, "because... well, let's just say that real is always better than fake, and it's easy to give someone some limited mind control power, as long as you keep it simple and don't allow them to turn it on, off, or target it. With your 'powers' always on and begging to be used, you got to practice your... uhm, technique... on any pretty thing that caught your eye, so you're really experienced in the sack. 

"Hell, that's even the reason why I changed you and the girls so slowly, even though I was more direct with the others. You grew into your looks and attitudes toward sex; they weren't just forced on you all at once. It's natural now, real. You don't have to act. Don't get me started on porn star acting... damn, you'd think there were some things mind controllers could fix! 

"Besides, I didn't want to make you like being in porn. It's much better for everybody when you actually love it, which you do. You never hesitated to sign on for another shoot, no matter how hard–core it got. In fact, the only thing I'm doing now is keeping you here until you decide, and keeping you calm. You actually find this proposal so intriguing that you're considering going along with it." 

Tamara was now reading the contract. She held the pen in one hand, amazed she was about to throw away her quiet, respectable life for a career in porn, albeit a brief one. But before she signed, she said, "Can I ask you a question?" 

"Shoot," Jeff said. 

"What if I refuse?" 

"Then I restore your body to what it was, and change you from lesbian to straight." 

That prospect chilled Tamara to the bone—she loved her new body but could live without it. But life as a straight woman? No fucking way.... 




How Porn Broke Into Tamara Divine Ch. 04



"OK... but if you can control my mind, why are you letting me read this? Why haven't I just signed this and started fucking your brains out or something?" 

"To the first part, it's all about regulations," Jeff said. "There are people who watch what we pornographers do, and there are even worse people watching what us mind controllers do. So, we have to be careful not to do anything to draw much ire from group B, because they'll draw the attention of group A, and group D to get involved... and that's BAD. This is your decision, believe it or not. I already have a warning on my record, so I can do only so much to persuade you. 

"As to why you're not fucking my brains out—well, you're a lesbian. I don't fuck lesbians, 'cause they don't fuck me. I have no problems getting women to fuck me anyway." 

"Fair enough," Tamara said, shaking (in excitement or nervousness; she wasn't sure which) as she signed the dotted line. He could still make me do it, even if I didn't want to... might as well make the best of it... and it does sound fun... and it could be much worse, she thought. "Five years. But, I'm not just signing this for the money, or for the short term aspect of the job." 

"Let me guess—you want to get some straight girls into bed with you, right? That is already being arranged; we're going to get you a girlfriend but your first meeting will be a re–enact—" 

"Well, that's part of it," Tamara interrupted. "But mainly, because I think you could just make me do this anyway. Also, because I want to do this as a thank–you." 

"What, for the tits?" 

"No, not for the tits. Well, not just for the tits—I love them. But, it's a thank–you for not making me straight. I don't want to be straight, and I know you could have made tons of money with a girl who did guys." 

Jeff took the clipboard and smiled. "Making sure you stayed a lesbian was my primary concern, Tamara. And welcome to the group." Tamara saw something strange in that smile, as if he knew something she didn't, but it faded and she let it go. "Now," Jeff added, "it's time to get you your first girlfriend. I'm trying to work the word 'girlfriend' into the title, like 'Straight Girlfriends' or something. We're going to re–enact a little meeting between you and that delicious Anita chick I set you up with...." 

"Actually, I have someone else in mind," Tamara said. "Anita's not like that, and I don't want—" 

"Really," Jeff interrupted, suddenly interested. "She should be 'like that' by now, thanks to you. Are you're sure you don't want Anita? I mean, wow. She's hot, and I had you set up to go after any girl you liked, if you had an opportunity... and Anita was primed to give you some opportunities! Shit, I guess I could have kept a closer eye on your heads. By now, I expected you two to be an item, girlfriends with a very healthy sex life." 

"Actually," Tamara said, "Kristi's been doing good in that department. But there is one special girl. My first, in a way. But not Anita—I just want to be her friend." 

Jeff's expression was priceless; saying it was one of surprise would have been an understatement worthy of criminal prosecution. "Well, that's... damn. I never expected to hear that. I was about to have some cameras set up in your apartment to capture the action. That's what I get for being too subtle and not checking up on things." 

"You haven't asked me about the one I do have in mind," Tamara said, smirking. She and Jeff then began planning her first porn scene for the American market, but halfway through, they both realized that she didn't have a proper name. That was fixed soon enough, though, and the impromptu planning session went forward. 

*****

Nervously, a girl with scarlet hair and dark eyeshadow glanced around the library. She spent most of her time in the stacks, and much of that time was waiting for something to happen. The goth coed spotted a woman with light brown hair wearing sweat pants, and waited to make eye contact. Then she turned around, deliberately dropping her pen and bending at the waist to pick it up. She knew that her leather mini would not completely cover her crotch, and that her panties—tightly encasing her sex—would be clearly visible, if the girl cared to look. 

But she didn't. In fact, she went to the next row. Not even the right color sweat pants, she thought. Way to go, Tina. She probably thinks you're a dyke... well, maybe she's half–right..., she thought. Inside, she knew it was not likely that she'd be able to get that one girl, the one who she only met once and never saw again, to rape her like she did that one day. The odds against it were astronomical, but that didn't stop her from trying three or four (and sometimes five) times a week. 

On reflection, she knew that "rape" was probably too strong a word, but the roughness of the encounter (that she had begged for) didn't lend itself to any other word easily. For some reason, just letting go and allowing herself to go along with whatever her "attacker" wanted. In all her trysts since she was practically raped in the secluded aisles of books, she'd had her share men and women, but none who could muster the intensity and control over her that she'd craved since that one fingerbang she received from a cute girl in sweat pants with dirty–blonde hair. Even if they were capable of causing her the pain she desired, it was never as sweetly hot as it was with a girl she only knew as "Tammy." 

Memories of that day started to flow in her head, as they often did when she was trying to seduce someone into a rough afternoon of sex. Before she realized it, tiny tingles tickled Tina's twat, and she briefly considered making her way to the restroom to answer the need between her legs that was growing second by second. It wasn't a serious idea, but before long, she wished she'd actually followed through with the plan. The itch was undeniable and clearly getting stronger. Soon, she found it hard to walk, and she stopped right at the middle of the long bookshelf, holding it for support. 

An eerie feeling washed over her—the feeling she always got when someone was watching her. She knew she probably looked like she was sick, so she tried to straight up and walk, but at that moment a dull aching desire exploded from her pussy and spread over her chest and face, making her blush and sweat. Her panties soaked, she leaned forward and knocked some books off the shelf. She picked them up but before she could put them back on the shelf, two hands wrapped around her body, just under her halter top, and came to rest on her belly. 

The sensation of warm jolts of pleasure that almost hummed from the hands was unmistakable; even though it'd been months since she'd felt those hands playing on her flesh, she knew exactly to whom they belonged. Tina dropped the books, fell back into Tamara's arms, and presented her neck, hoping for a not–so–playful bite. When it came, Tina whispered, "Harder, haaarder... leave a fuckin' mark... god damn...," barely able to control her voice. 

"Remember me?" came the whisper like no other. Sex leaked into Tina's head from the ear that picked up the words. Tamara looked at the bright red teeth marks she'd just left—she hadn't meant to clamp down so hard, but Tina's words—and her very body language—seemed to demand a long, hard bite. 

"Yessssssssssss...," Tina hissed. "Please... do what you... did...." 

"Oh, we're going to do more than that, honey. The library's empty—I made sure of that. It's just you, me, and my friend Kristi here with the camera. You don't mind helping me make a little video, do you? No, you don't. Of course not. You'll even get a tape you can show somebody, and maybe then they'll give you what you need," Tamara said quietly into the girl's ear. 

Tina didn't ask how Tamara knew about what she'd tried to get from the people she'd been with since her last time with Tamara. It didn't matter. Everything she'd been fantasizing about was right here, holding her. She could even feel Tamara's full breasts pressing into her back, and this time she was going to do more than finger her. 

As quickly as she could, Tina spun around and grabbed two fistfuls of black hair. She stopped for a second. Wasn't Tammy's hair dirty blond, or something? Well, so what—it's not like I was born with bright red hair. Mentally shrugging at the hair color change, and knowing that she looked now into the face of her sexual tormentor for the first time, Tina leaned in and kissed Tamara. Hard. Very hard. Before it was over, Tina had cum from Tamara's almost magical oral talents... and Tina bit Tamara's lower lip and held on to it with her teeth as she pulled away, giving Tamara her best "I like it rough" look. 

If she doesn't get that hint, then maybe I was mist... ooooooooh, fuck, damn, that's it, Tina thought as Tamara's hands went under her shirt, found her nipples (Tina rarely wore bras since the day that changed her from a calm goth student into a mild nymphomaniac with a taste for hard sex), and twisted them hard. A tear slid down Tina's cheek as she came again. 

"If you let go of my hair, I'll even use my tongue on you this time," Tamara told Tina, who had not yet let go. Tina let go of her hair, but not before knocking Tamara down to the ground and mounting her. Tamara, surprised, tried to sit up, but that only allowed Tina to quickly pull her shirt off. With that done, Tina slid up from Tamara's hips to her stomach to prevent her from sitting up again. Then, she practically tore her own shirt off. 

After a brief groping session and some more kissing, Tina turned around and focused her attention on Tamara's blue jeans, never giving Tamara a chance to get up. They were practically painted on, but thankfully for Tina, the jeans were button–fly and somewhat easy to start to remove. She licked her lips when she saw that Tamara was not wearing panties. The only a thing beneath those pants was a thin strip of pubic hair and a delicious looking pussy. 

Tamara reached up and unzipped the leather mini, and Tina stood up so she could take off Tamara's shoes and allow her glorified loincloth to fall to the floor. She kicked it and her panties off and got back down on her knees, positioning her wet cunt over Tamara's face. She had worked Tamara's pants down to her knees when she first felt Tamara's mouth and tongue start kissing and licking her nether region, and she gave up on the struggle with the tight jeans, opting instead to dive mouth–first onto Tamara's slit. 

Tamara kicked her legs to work the pants down while slowly licking Tina's inner thighs and outer pussy. A few times, she'd spank Tina hard enough to leave her ass red. She guessed that it was working for Tina, as every slap drove her to eat her out more and more frantically. Tina clearly had some practice, and she brought Tamara off with little trouble. 

But Tina was having trouble getting off. The hands that beat raw heat into her bottom contrasted nicely with the soft, wet pleasure that bathed the skin that was painfully close to her cunt. And, the tingling from before had returned with a vengeance. When Tamara finally worked her jeans off, Tina grasped each leg and held them open to give her better access to Tamara's pussy. The harder she worked on Tamara's sex, the more the odd sensation in her own grew—and she hoped that Tamara would not tease her much longer, or she'd just have to grind her pussy into the pretty girl's little face. 

Then several things happened in Tina's crotch at once. First, a finger slid over and lightly rested on her asshole. Another finger slid down and plunged into her cunt. And finally, Tamara's lips kissed and then sucked Tina's clit. The orgasm was instantaneous, intense, and wet, but Tamara was far from done. Another finger went into her pussy. And another. Tamara rubbed her brown eye and fucked her pussy with three fingers while sucking on Tina's clit, and Tina was so awash with pleasure that she could scarcely control herself—she focused all her attention on keeping her ass right where it was. 

"More! Use more fingers... fuck, yeah, fuck my tight cunt... fuck!!" Tina yelled, taking her mouth off of Tamara's sex. Another finger was added, and she felt full—the four fingers stretched her in a deliciously painful way, and she started to moan and scream as another orgasm approached. She didn't notice Tamara removing her finger from her asshole, but she sure noticed when it was replaced—wet and ready to penetrate her tightest hole. 

And when it did, she saw stars. It was the release she needed. Once she stopped screaming and thrashing her head around, she got back to business and slid a finger into Tamara. She found Tamara's G–spot after a few moments and used a trick another girl had taught her. When Tamara responded by cumming all over Tina's hand, Tamara suggested another position. 

The sex lasted for over two hours. Tina caught a glimpse of the girl who she knew must have been Kristi a few times, but paid her no mind. After about a half–dozen positions, some of which made her legs hurt, the two lovers just lay on the floor amid the books, kissing and almost cuddling. Tamara's enhanced libido was sated, and Tina was a little sore—but she wouldn't have it any other way. After a brief conversation with Tamara and Kristi, Tina agreed that it was OK to sign consent to allow her "scene" to be put in a sort–of "girls gone crazy" type of video. And this time, Tina finally got to formally introduce herself to the woman who had just fucked her three ways from Sunday. 

"OK, I'll sign the consent form... hell, with you two whispering in my ear and necking with me while you explain it, how can I refuse? Oh... and my name's Tina Brown. I don't remember your name," she said, debating on whether or not to shake her hand. It seemed too formal after what they'd just done. 

"No, you don't know my name, but you clearly remember me. I'm Tammy, but my friends call me Tamara." 

"OK... uh, 'Tamara?' Isn't that long for 'Tammy? Is it a stage name?" Tina was curious about the reverse nickname. 

Tamara smiled. "Yeah, something like that. Just remember the name Tamara Divine. You were my first," she said, and as she and Kristi left, she added, "and baby, I'll always, always remember you, honey." 

Tina, alone in the library, suddenly realized that the library should be full of people. Well sexed and a little creeped out by the fact that the library was abandoned for no apparent reason (even the librarian was missing), Tina got dressed walked out of the building and to her dorm. On the way, she met a man who suggested that she would do well to dye her hair black and remove her lip piercing so few people would recognize her from the video. He was right, and she knew it as soon as he made the suggestion. Tina loved her red hair, but black matched her wardrobe just as well. She shook his hand, kissed him, and went to the store to buy the dye. 

*****

There's shit on TV tonight, Tina thought as she scanned through the channels after she put her five–year–old son to bed. Her husband was going to be home soon, and his sister was even going to come over and stay the night—that meant she and Kevin could go out. That was rare after the kid was born. Then, while scanning the news channels, she saw a face she could never forget. It was Tamara's. 

The famous Tamara Divine was giving an interview on a mainstream cable news network about how she broke into porn, and she recounted the tale (censoring the fun bits, of course) of the cute goth girl who was her first not once, but twice, in a library somewhere in Illinois. The rest of the interview was as awkward as you'd expect for a mainstream, respectable man's interview of a woman who fucks other women on camera for money. 

Topics such as the rarely seen public acceptance of a porn star as a genuine celebrity, her legal battle to have her marriage to long–time lover Anita Divine recognized in her home state (she even promised to go further into that little love story on her next appearance on the show next month), and her opinion on if porn degraded women or not were brought up by the host in an effort to make it something other than a "Hey look, we have a porn star on our program!" show. When the boring anchorman finally ran out of things to ask about, he signed off. 

Tamara, almost on cue, added, "And this one is for you, Tina. Thanks for the memories." Then she blew a kiss to the camera. Tina's jaw dropped. I bet every woman named Tina just got wet, she thought. 

The two–time lovers had managed to email each other every now and then to keep in touch, but she couldn't remember Tamara mentioning any upcoming interviews. A few seconds after the public shout–out, Tina laughed softly and shook her head in disbelief. That little bit of public gratitude put her in a playful mood, and she decided that she would pick up a couple of college girls to share with Kevin for the evening. He'd been working a lot of overtime, and college girls were one of those few things they could both enjoy doing together. 

Right before she made up her mind on which motel to take them to, Jennifer, Kevin's sister, arrived to watch Kevin Jr. overnight. Using her key to get in the apartment, like she usually did, Jennifer walked into the living room wearing painted–on jeans and a tight camisole that managed to make her smallish tits look a little larger than they really were... and her nipples were clearly hard beneath the thin fabric. Maybe it was because of the cold outside, but Tina didn't care. 

I'll start with an appetizer, Tina mused as she reached for her sister–in–law's body. Kevin won't know... I'll be done before he gets back. I always am. She knew how her very touch was enough to melt any woman's inhibitions. A few softly whispered commands later, Jennifer was naked and in Tina's and Kevin's bedroom, ready to serve her secret Mistress. Tina kissed her sister–in–law, and when her enchanted mouth and tongue drove Jennifer to her first climax of the evening, she wondered if she should take Tamara up on the message she'd sent a month ago—the message in which she said that she wanted to meet somewhere and catch up on life, sex, and everything. 

Riding Jennifer's face, Tina decided she would take Tamara up on the offer. After all, she thought, Tamara will be putty in my hands; and if that's not enough, I can kiss and whisper her into submission, like I did with Jennifer here. Fuck it... I'll email her tomorrow. 

I wonder if she knows what's going to hit her.



How Porn Broke Into Tamara Divine



Her answer came from within, again. Just knock it the fuck off! You can't make out with Anita! She's... a she, for Christ's sake! 

By that point, Tamara had been staring for quite some time and Anita had noticed. "Tammy, are you checking me out or something?" she teased. "Because, just so you know, I don't bat for your team!" 

"Oh, shut up! You know I'm straight. I'm just zoning, that's all. It was a long day." Tamara knew it was a lie, and was thoroughly embarrassed at getting caught gawking at her roommate. 

Anita turned her attention back to the TV. "Yeah, suuuuure. And you want to go to bed, right? With me?" She barely finished that before laughing almost uncontrollably at her little joke. 

"Oh, stop it!" Tamara mock–yelled. For some reason, the idea flashed into her head to try to take Anita to bed... but then it was gone. 

"You can whisper sweet nothings into my ear for this whole movie, honey, but it won't work!" And with that, Anita's head fell backwards as she went into a fit of giggles again. 

Giggling herself, Tamara slid over to Anita's side, put an arm around her tummy, and jokingly whispered into her ear, "Are you sure, babe? Don't you just find me so sexy? Let's kiss and make out and stuff! Mmmmmm... sound goooooood, doesn't it!" Strangely, by the time she was done whispering, neither one of them was laughing. 

Anita's laughter had faded when Tamara's mouth started whispering into her ear. She began to breathe a little more deeply and slowly. Tamara, her mouth still right by her roommate's ear, looked down at the girl's chest and saw that she was nipping. Not sure where the words were coming from, she said in her most smoldering alto, "Why don't we have some fun, baby?" and licked Anita's ear. 

At that contact, Anita shuddered and turned, facing her friend. They both looked like deer caught in headlights, but it was Tamara who moved first—she moved in for a kiss. Anita resisted at first, feigning laughter at the joke that (as far as she was concerned) was about to go to far. Tamara had already gone too far to stop, much to the surprise of both women. 

Anita didn't lean back nearly as far as she'd probably meant to, and Tamara found herself unable to stop moving towards her roommate. When their lips met, Anita seemed to instantly melt into the kiss, the muscles she was using to edge away from Tamara relaxing noticeably. One of Tamara's arms made its way across Anita's lap, and Tamara held her roommate as she continued the deep, hot, and wet kiss. 

Tamara felt the strangely encouraging change in her sudden partner's movements, and was confused by her friend's response. Even if Tamara was questioning her hetero credentials at the moment, Anita hadn't demonstrated that she had a single bi–curious bone in her body. 

Tamara was even more shocked when her own mouth opened mid–kiss, seemingly of its own volition. Her tongue snaked out and gently licked a line across Anita's tightly pursed but quickly relenting lips. After a few passes back and forth, Anita's mouth finally relaxed enough for Tamara's tongue to sneak inside. 

Once it became an official French kiss, Anita's body came alive. She arched her back, pressing her body into Tamara's. Tamara, lost in the kiss, had already shifted her position and practically straddling her friend. Anita's eyes, which she had managed to keep open for the first moments of the kiss, finally closed and she moaned into Tamara's mouth. 

This kiss was like no other, to both girls. Anita began to moan, her body writhing slightly under her roommate's as the kiss became more heated. This sent Tamara into a little frenzy of arousal of her own. Up to this point, she had simply experienced a wonderfully hot kiss, but not the other sensations that were making her roommate melt. 

The young women's motions became more animate, and Anita began to suck on Tamara's tongue. Tamara's clit and nipples immediately started to buzz in response. This tensed her muscles and forced her to take an even firmer grasp of Anita. 

She didn't even remember putting her hands on Anita, but they were holding her fast. Tamara's hands didn't stay there, though. They slowly slid from her roommate's shoulders and to her full breasts, squeezing them gently. Anita responded by releasing her lips' hold on Tamara's tongue and using her own tongue to explore the mouth of the suddenly frisky woman on top of her. 

The kiss defied any sense of time for the two women; it was an eternity squeezed into a moment that passed all too quickly for both of them. Their mouths began to search out other places to kiss and even nibble, and they hungrily necked, felt each other's tits and pinched each other's nipples. Tamara had even worked one of her legs between Anita's and was grinding her crotch on her friend's thigh. Anita responded by squeezing Tamara's ass and slapping it a few times while she nibbled on the neck and earlobe of the woman above her. 

Finally, a voice that was lost in the haze manifested in Tamara's head. What the fuck am I doing? I'm making out with Anita?! Stop! She'll think I'm a dyke!! 

She came to her senses faster than should have been possible, given the situation. Quickly releasing her lip lock on her roommate, Tamara sat back on Anita's lap, her jaw dropped in horror, arousal, embarrassment, and fear. 

"I'm... I'm... oh god, I'm so... so sor..." Tamara began, her head finally clear enough to realize what she'd done to her trusting—and straight—roommate. 

"Let's just go to bed, Tammy. Get up. We should just... you know, go to sleep. I think we're both too drunk 'n' tired to think straight...." Anita said, cutting off the last word. 

Tamara leaned back to see Anita's face, and they both nervously smiled at Anita's unintentional joke. Finally finding her voice steady enough to speak clearly, Tamara simply said, "Yeah. Bedtime. I'm going to go to the bathroom first, if you don't mind." 

Anita made no sound or movement, so Tamara stood up, went to the bathroom, and then quietly went to bed. On her way from the bathroom to her bedroom, she noticed Anita still sitting on the couch, her hand apparently lazily tracing circles on her right breast. 

Exhausted, Tamara went to bed, forcing herself to rationalize what had just happened as a combination of wine, fatigue and maybe a little of that "experimentation" thing she knew some other girls back in the dorm did from time to time. Just an experiment. Just an experiment. A one–time thing that'll never happen again, no matter how much fun it was, she told herself over and over again. 

Once in her room, she undressed and slipped beneath the covers, naked. Her hands flew to her nether regions, and she tried to bring a mental image of John—or any hot man—into her mind. She desperately wanted to get off thinking about a man, especially after what had just happened with Anita. With two fingers in her pussy and the other hand attacking her nipples one at a time, she quickly came hard and very wet. 

Unfortunately, as she drifted away into slumber, she could not tell if she'd squeezed in an image of John among the images of Wendy and Anita taking turns with her. By morning, it didn't matter. She woke up with a satisfied smile. That was all that was important. 

*****

The next month passed somewhat normally, although the stresses of school were getting to Tamara—she'd finally realized that her long hair was falling out a little faster than it normally did. She'd always had long hair and knew that it always looked like a lot of hair came out with each shower, but she could tell the difference when her hair started looking shorter day by day. And, her roots seemed to be darkening. That was something she had not expected; she knew stories of women whose hair went gray or fell out when they were really stressed, but she was a natural blonde and she had never heard of anyone's hair getting darker quite like this. 

Less troubling, but even more mysterious, was the fact that her clothes were starting to fit poorly. It took a couple of weeks for her to be sure it wasn't related to her period, but she finally realized that her breasts were finally starting to grow a little. This may have worried some people, but Tamara was happy to see this "development." However, even though she thought it a good thing, Tamara was a little annoyed when she eventually had to give up on even her oldest, loosest A–cups and graduate to a B–cup. The only alternative was spending the rest of her college days wearing increasingly tight sports bras. 

Heh, she thought as she bought some new bras from a nearby discount store, this is the first B I've ever gotten in school. She also bought some prettier panties; her old ones weren't fitting well. Whatever was making her breasts swell slightly was apparently rounding out her fairly flat ass, too. Tamara was a little less excited about that at first. But, Anita had noticed and said something nice about it, and that made Tamara feel good. A little too good, she thought at the time, but good nonetheless. 

Tamara had hoped her waning feelings for John were the cause of what had been troubling her since the night she and Anita had made out. And, while the inevitable breakup was likely to be a much needed relief, it didn't lessen her feelings of unease about the whole "affair." She'd knew been noticing more girls than boys lately, and had to divert her eyes from Anita more times than she cared to think of since "that night," as Tamara now thought of it. 

One thing that was definitely bothering her was how easily her mouth seemed to home in on many pretty girls. It was as if her lips were drawn to the girls she knew, especially the cute ones. She found herself changing the topics of conversations just so she would have an excuse to, say, whisper in a girl's ear. Or, give her a "fake" kiss on the cheek to tease the guys. She would see them take a deep breath when she did things like this, and then she'd keep doing it, telling herself she was just trying to prove that the deep breathing (and sometimes, mild shuddering) was a fluke, a coincidence. 

Tamara never quite convinced herself of her own motives on that one, though. 

And she had found out that during her study groups in the library she was very persuasive with other women—especially if her mouth was near the ear of the girl she was talking to. It was like they wanted her to whisper to them; they would often lean toward her mouth, ear–first. That really amused her, but whenever she noticed it happening too often, she repeated to herself that it was utter madness. I have to be making this up, she'd tell herself. It's just been too long since I got any. And again, she'd keep doing it to see if the reaction and willingness to go along with almost any suggestion was a fluke. 

Tamara went home to Chicago for Thanksgiving break, and once there, she met up with John. They had a long talk about—what else?—the difficulties of a long–distance relationship, and they decided to see other people. Tamara knew John had suggested this because he felt that it was what she wanted—she'd found herself somewhat distant from her high school friends and her family during the entire visit, and the one time she kissed John on that visit, she felt that the spark wasn't there anymore. She knew she still liked him, and they would probably always be friends—but like her old bras, he felt like something she'd outgrown. 

When she went to John's family's house (a few blocks from her childhood home) to get some of her old things that John had told her she should pick up, she saw Emily, John's sister. She had apparently just been jogging, as she was still in skin–tight shorts and a sports bra–like top that accentuated her small but perky bust. Shaking her head to clear the already–forming impure thoughts, she said, "Hey, John said I had some old stuff here—can I go to his room and get it?" 

Being face–to–face with the teen (She can't be more than 18, Tamara thought), she saw the familiar shudder and deep breathing that she'd seen dozens of times over the past month or so. But, this time she was looking directly into the girl's face (which she rarely did when she tried this "trick" at school)—and she could have sworn she saw a flash of arousal. Just a flash. 

"S... Sure, do you know where it is?" Emily stammered. 

Walking past her and into the house, she stopped short and decided to have a little fun with the girl. The teen was still looking out the door and Tamara leaned over and said into her ear, "Yes, honey, I know where the bedroom is... would you like to show me anyway?" 

Oh, you are so bad! Stop it, you know what that does to girls! she thought to herself. And, right at that moment, she realized that she did, in fact, know what this did to girls. That disturbed her a little deep down, but only for an instant. She was just having too much fun with the cute teenager to stop. 

I'll just see how far this goes. I'll stop if it gets too... weird. 

As expected, the confused girl shuddered again and led Tamara to John's old room. Emily stood just inside the door to her brother's room and watched Tamara grab a small duffel bag. It held a few of Tamara's old personal items that she hardly cared about anymore, but they were still hers, all the same. 

Tamara took the bag, looked inside to see what all was in it (she had a vague idea, but was honestly curious at what things of hers John had accumulated over the years they'd been together), and headed back to the door. Right before she walked through the door, though, Tamara suddenly realized she was alone with a woman—no, a girl—for the first time in a month. She'd made it a point to avoid being alone with one because of what had happened that last time with Anita... and what might have happened if she hadn't come to her senses when she did. She still couldn't help thinking about either Anita or Wendy (or both) when she touched herself to ease her steadily increasing libido. 

Yes, you're horny... very horny... just walk out the door and leave... walk out the door... the door... all alone, I have time for a quickie... no, leave the girl alone... we are alone... don't do it... don't... she's just a kid, leave her alone! You can get off when you get home... just... go... you've never even been all the way with a girl... stop... 

Tamara walked past Emily to the door of the bedroom, and then closed and locked it. 

Still facing away from the door, a suddenly nervous but still slightly aroused Emily asked sheepishly, "why did you do... oooooooooh, that... mmmmmmm...." Her head fell back and to the side as her question was cut off by a swift and precise kiss to her neck. When the mouth moved to her earlobe and gently nibbled it, Emily felt her hands and legs begin to shake. 

"Shhhhhhhhh," Tamara whispered into Emily's ear. "Just relax, go with it...." She used her hands to support the trembling Emily, who melted into Tamara's embrace. 

"Yessssss...," Emily trailed off as she felt Tamara's hands roam her body, building her need and heating up her pussy. Emily was not experienced with any kind of sex, but she had been kissing for a few years. Too far gone to care that she was being kissed by a girl, Emily moved her head so that she could press her lips against Tamara's. Their mouths opened almost simultaneously, and their tongues met and danced. Emily's eyes opened briefly when Tamara grabbed her breasts, and they rolled up and closed when she felt one hand sneak down to her backside. 

Tamara grabbed Emily's ass and squeezed firmly, surprising the teenager a little and making her force her tongue into a frenzy of action in Tamara's mouth. Tamara sensed, though, that if she didn't cut this short, Emily might just fall to the floor; her legs were trembling and Tamara realized that she was supporting the girl with her hands. 

Hey, get out of here now! You're making out with your ex's sister!! 

Startled at the sudden return of her conscious, Tamara pulled back from the kiss and took a long look at Emily, who was wobbling dizzily with her eyes still closed and her tongue slowly licking her lips. Not wanting to get caught playing with her ex–boyfriend's sister in their house, she leaned in and whispered goodbye to Emily, hoping to make a hasty exit. 

But it was not to be. She licked Emily's ear—sliding the tip of her tongue into Emily's ear for just an instant. Emily moaned and sank to her knees, kneading her breasts in obvious need. But Tamara regained her self–control just in time and unlocked the door, ran out of the room, went to her car, and drove to her parent's house. 

A combination of guilt and giddiness played on Tamara as she drove. Guilt, for knowingly playing with and even making out with Emily; and giddiness, for actually enjoying apparent control she had over the young woman. 

But behind all that was confusion. 

What's wrong with me! I'm not even like that with boys!! she thought over and over again while the scene at her ex–boyfriend's house played over and over in her mind. As she neared her family's home, though, she forced herself to think about her family. Soon, the event was filed away neatly in the back of her mind, and she enjoyed the remainder of her visit free of Sapphic activities and inner debates. The rest of the holiday went along as all the others before it had. 

*****

After getting back to school, she got another call from Jeff—and she found herself excited and hoping that there would be another shoot in the works. 

"So, how are ya doin', kid?" he asked. 

"Oh, I'm fine." 

"Good. Listen, I have another shoot lined up, and we need a girl like you in it. It does have another woman in it, just like the last one. But, there's one little detail you need to know about before you agree to do it." 

"Yes?" Tamara asked, excited at the possibility of working with Wendy—or some other hot model—again. Instantly chalking that desire up to just wanting to work as a model again, she thought, I would love to do that again... I bet I could really get into it. All models have to do this at some point. Nothing sexual at all, just some extra money. She then realized that she'd been daydreaming and not listening to Jeff. 

"... and again, your body shape is what we're looking for. I just reviewed the last set of photos and we'd like it if you could trim your hair down a few inches or so, but other than that, you're perfect for this project. It's for an underwear catalogue in Europe," he continued. 

"It's not distributed in America, but... uh, well, I'll just come out and tell you: the work requires some topless photos, as some of the lingerie won't cover your breasts completely. It pays quite well," he quickly added, "to the tune of $2000 for another four hours of work. But, like I said, it is topless. I will completely understand if you aren't interested...." 

"Well, you might remember that I'm not too top heavy..." Tamara said, stalling. She was awash in feelings of fear, nervousness, and intense arousal mixed with anticipation. 

"You're not completely flat, right?" he asked, in a way that Tamara almost thought suggested he knew the answer. 

Tamara knew such a comment should bother her, but for some reason, it didn't. "No, I wear a B cup. Not big, but not flat." 

"Well, we're looking for women with small and large busts. The company likes diversity." 

"Well, my hair has been... uh, well," she said, trying to avoid saying some thing like "it's falling out" but wanting to let him know that her hair was easily eight inches shorter than he remembered. "... It's not as long as it was, and I'm seeing some dark streaks here and there, which is weird because I'm a natural blonde... I mean, would..." she began to ask, nervous suddenly that she would not be pretty enough for the other model or the company, and trying to find a way to describe what was happening to her hair. 




How Porn Broke Into Tamara Divine



"Tammy, you'll be perfect. Like I said, we want you to trim your hair. If it's already shorter, then it's probably OK. You're hair is still about... what, somewhere between your shoulders and the middle of your back, right?" 

Surprised at such a good guess—her hair was long enough to reach exactly halfway between her shoulders and the middle of her back—she lightened and replied, "Yes, it is." 

"Good. If you can meet us Thursday the 16th at 8 AM sharp, same place as last time, that'll be great. Do you still have the address?" 

"Well, I do... but I haven't said 'Yes' yet." 

"Well, do you want the job or not?" 

"Of course I want it," she said, giggling. "See you Thursday!" 

As she hung up the phone, Anita walked into the apartment. "Hey Tammy! How's the family?" 

"Oh, fine," Tamara said, walking up to her friend to give her a "welcome back!" hug. Anita returned the hug for a few moments, having genuinely missed her roommate. That one night a month ago notwithstanding, they had become the best of friends. 

With a gleam of mischievousness in her eye, Tamara turned her head slightly and said in a clear, low voice, "Well, I'm tired and I'm going to go take a nap." And, she "accidentally" licked her earlobe. 

Anita's trembling was barely noticeable, but anyone looking would have seen her eyes flutter and shut for a few seconds. Tamara left her like there, taking one look back before heading to her room to take a nap. She sure looks ripe for the picking, Tamara thought. After watching Anita's eyes open, she sauntered to her bedroom, wiggling her hips as she walked just in case Anita was watching. 

She didn't even question her seductive actions towards the woman who was her roommate and friend. And when she did finally realize how oddly she'd been acting, she was more than a little alarmed that it took so long to register as unusual. Even then, she just figured she was having fun with this weird effect she was having on the women. 

Lying on her bed, she thought about the upcoming photo session. I can't wait till Thursday, she thought as she played her body like a finely tuned instrument, enjoying the morning the best way she could. A couple of orgasms later, she pulled her slick hands from her cunny and got up to take her morning shower. 

She didn't even notice that she had not even tried to think of John, Jeff, or any other man while she played with herself.