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Educating Shannon

By: Rehnquist



May 16, 1997, the day Shannon dumped me after five years of dating and a year of engagement. I'll never forget it. Late afternoon at her cousin's college graduation party. I had to work late and the party was in full swing by the time I arrived. When I arrived, I grabbed a beer, chatted with friends, and wandered looking for Shannon. I found her sitting on Joe's lap, whispering in his ear. I just stood there, looking stupid and amazed. Joe nudged her and she looked up at me. We're done, she said, and went back to whispering in Joe's ear, his hand squeezing her ass.

* * *

Two years later I finished law school. Didn't take long to figure out that graduating toward the top of your class doesn't help find a job in a down economy. I scraped together my meager savings, borrowed from friends, and opened my own office in my hometown.

The first year was tough, but I was a lifelong resident and clients trickled in. Some of the rich ones who knew my folks would throw simple work my way, and the poor ones came around because they couldn't afford anyone better. Then came the Harris murders.

Johnny Harris was a loser, 40 years old and living at home. He grew some weed in a far corner of the soybean fields, smoked the dope, listened to the Doobie Brothers, and lived wanted for little. When his parents were murdered and Johnny found the bodies, the shit hit the fan. After seventeen hours of interrogation, he broke down and admitted he might have done it in a pot-induced haze. He wouldn't sign the confession, but the cops didn't care. They charged him with capital murder.

Johnny's sister Tammy had used me for her divorce, and she told Johnny to get me for the case. I had helped out on a few murder trials in my law school clinic, but I'd never had one myself. Johnny didn't care, though. He was flat broke and I met his most important criteria: I was cheap. Real cheap.

I worked day and night on the Harris murder case. I flooded the prosecution with motions, discovery requests, and anything else I could think up to get this poor bastard acquitted. Eventually, I was successful in getting Johnny's confession suppressed. Seems the coppers hadn't bothered to read him his Miranda rights, and they had no probable cause to take him in and hold him for seventeen hours of interrogation. With no confession, no eyewitnesses, and no physical evidence tying Johnny to the crime, the State dropped the charges and Johnny walked free. Within weeks, I was the busiest goddamned attorney in the county.

I took all manner of cases. I represented banks foreclosing on homes; homeowners being foreclosed upon; criminal defense; real estate closings; personal injury; and divorces. If you could pay my bill, I'd take your case. Day after day, from early morning to late into the evening, seven days a week, behind my desk researching and drafting documents or arguing in a courtroom on behalf of my clients. My office got bigger, my part-time secretary became two full-time secretaries, and my crappy, drafty studio apartment became a large, airy ranch in the country. I had it all.

All, that is, except a love life. Sure, there was the occasional date, and the even less occasional frantic release of passionate sex with some near stranger. None of them hung around, though. Who has time for a boyfriend–or husband, for that matter–who works all the time and is late for dates when he bothers to show up at all?

That's the way it is, though. You make your bed and you sleep in the damned thing. And if your choice is to avoid the Shannon Ryans of this world, that bed becomes an empty field you throw yourself into at the end of another 16-hour workday.

* * *

By late 2006, business was to the point where an associate was needed or clients would have to go elsewhere. Not wanting to lose any valuable accounts, my eyes were out for a hard-working, talented young attorney with fire in the belly. That turned out to be Rebecca Galarza, a 30-year oldish assistant state's attorney with a flair for understatement. She was tall with long, dark hair, deep brown eyes, and flawless olive skin. Her high cheekbones ran down her face to a delicate chin and full lips. Her long legs ran straight up to a perfect, pouty ass, and her breasts were a perfect handful sitting high on her chest and pointing slightly upward. She was the only woman I knew that could make a pantsuit sexy. Not that I noticed.

I made Rebecca an offer. Fifty grand a year plus thirty points on anything above one-fifty she brought in. All told, she could expect to make ninety or more a year with an average work week, and far more if she put in longer hours. Not great in the big city, but huge money in backwater Illinois. And in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.

Rebecca's only experience was with criminal prosecution. As such, there was a learning curve she needed to meet to deal with my clientele. She sat in on meetings, real estate closings, discovery depositions, and all other manner of this strange and arcane world known as general civil law. She held the hands of wives and husbands going through divorces and custody battles, drafted contracts for commercial building contracts, and presented zoning petitions before the local powers that be. Within six months, she was working eighty hours a week and we were taking in even more money and clients than before. She required little guidance, and I was left figuring out how to meet the expanded case demands.

All of this new business left even less time for a love life. Rebecca, though beautiful, was an employee, and it didn't seem prudent to risk the investment. Occasionally I'd turn and catch her looking at me in a way that indicated the chance was there, but messy dating followed by messy break-up would leave poor Erik with another associate to find and train. Still, if something didn't happen soon . . . .

* * *

My intercom buzzed. "Mr. Taylor, your four o'clock appointment is here to see you." I pressed the button. "Please show her into the conference room."

I looked at my schedule. 4:00 Hollis, S–possible divorce/custody.

I grabbed a legal pad and pen and strode to the conference room. She was sitting in a chair with her back to me, her short brown hair bobbed above the collar, her shoulders slumped slightly, her long fingers twirling a pen on the tabletop. "Thank you for waiting, Ms. Hollis," I said, closing the door and walking around to the other side of the table.

She looked up at me. "Hello, Erik," Shannon said.

I stood there a moment before inching out my chair and slid in. She hadn't changed much. Short-cut blonde hair, square jaws with high cheekbones, and green eyes that could look through you. Her hair accentuated her long neck and willowy figure, which she had managed to keep firm over the years. She was still a real looker, no two ways about it.

I didn't say anything, just drank her in and remembered our times, both good and bad.

"It's good to see you again, too," she said, trying to smile. "It's been a long time."

I put the pen and pad of paper on the table, leaned back, and crossed my legs. "About ten years," I said.

"Too long." She looked back down at the table.

I said nothing.

"Ron's leaving me." She looked at a picture on the wall to her right. "Says he's taking the kids, too. Taking everything. Says he's going to leave me in the streets, where I belong."

I nodded. "Who's Ron?"

"My husband."

"I figured that much. Why's he so all powerful is my point."

"Ron Hollis," she said, looking back at me before searching out another picture on the walls. "I know you've heard of him." I shook my head. "His family owns Hollis Construction."

I nodded. "Okay."

"They're loaded. He says he's going to get a battery of lawyers and take it all. Keep me from ever seeing my children again." She looked back at me, her eyes not leaving mine. "Erik, you've got to help me."

"No, Shannon, I don't."

Her shoulders slumped further. "I knew you'd say that."

"Why's he leaving you, as if I really need to ask?"

She looked back at me, her green eyes flashing with fury. "Fuck you."

"No," I said. "It wasn't fucking me."

"I don't . . ."

"See where it's any of my concern?" I leaned across the table, my face inches from hers. "Of course you don't," I said, "because you're not a lawyer. But if you need a lawyer, you'd better be prepared to answer that question and many more. Do you understand?"

She looked up, a tear running down her cheek. "You'll help me then?"

I sat back. "No, Shannon, I won't help you. You can't afford me. But I'll give you some referrals."

"How do you know I can't afford you?"

"Because if you could, you wouldn't be here."

She nodded. "I guess I just figured that . . . Well, you know."

"That I'd help you for old times sake? That you treated me so well I'd come running to defend you?"

She looked me in the eyes, tears now streaming down both cheeks smearing her makeup. "I don't know what I thought. I guess I didn't think." She was sobbing now. "That's been the problem lately. I haven't been thinking straight."

I pushed a box of tissue toward her. She took a few and wiped at here eyes. Those deep, bright, green eyes.

"Don't tell me, let me guess," I said. "You married this asshole because he was fun. He could take you out and show you a good time. And you wanted kids. I mean, what the fuck, that's part of the whole life's experience, right?"

"Don't go there, Erik," she flashed, "I love my kids. I'd do anything for them."

I nodded. "Sure you would. Anything, that is, except stay home for them. Be faithful to your husband for them. Quit going out whenever and wherever you want for them." "You don't understand," she said.

"Oh, but I do understand. You see, Shannon, that's the way you've always been. It's the way you'll always be. Marriage–and kids, for that matter–was just another experience for you. Consequences on everyone else be damned. Your biggest concern is where's your next good time going to come from."

"He used me, Erik," she said. "He used me as his goddamned plaything. He didn't love me, he wanted me. As a trophy, something to show off at the club and with his friends and family. And he got me, which is all he ever wanted. And when he got me, he moved along to the next whore who would share his bed."

I leaned back, locking my hands behind my head. "Sounds like peas in a pod. You two are perfect for each other."

She stopped crying, sniffled a few times, and continued. "It was okay. I wasn't real happy about it, mind you. But I really wanted to make this work." She wiped the corners of her eyes, crumpled the tissue, and set it neatly on the table in front of her. "But then he started slapping me around." She looked at me, as if gauging the effect her allegation had. I remained impassive.  "You don't believe me."

"It doesn't really matter what I believe. It only matters what I can prove."

She reached into her purse. "How about these?" she said, sliding a series of photographs and medical reports across the table to me.

I glanced down. Yep, she seemed to have some proof, not that his battery of attorneys wouldn't go after it and try to–perhaps successfully–shoot it all down.

"Okay, you've got some proof. Why do you need me?"

"This doesn't make you mad? You don't give a shit at all?"

I leafed through the photos and the reports. He liked kidney shots and punches to the thighs. Nothing that would show outside a dress, mind you, but plenty in a court of law. I put the pile back down in front of her. "No," I said, "I guess I quit caring about ten years ago, Shannon."

Her shoulders slumped. "Erik," she said, her eyes glued to her hands on the table before her, "no one else will represent me. At least no one worth hiring. I've tried. They all want too much money, and he won't give me access to enough to hire anyone." She looked me in the eyes, chewing her bottom lip. "I don't really know how to say this."

I raised my eyebrows; she looked back at her hands and softly spoke. "Erik, I'll do anything if you represent me. Anything." I leaned forward, my face near hers, my lips close to her ear. "What do you mean, 'anything?'"

"I mean anything. Whatever you want. You name the terms. You want me to come back with you, I'll do it. You want to fuck me, I'll do it. I mean anything."

I leaned back, saying nothing. She continued to stare at her hands, then at a teardrop that fell on the table before her. After a moment, she looked up. Tears were now streaming down her face.  "Aren't you going to say something? Anything?"

"First," I said, crossing my arms, "why would I want you back? You haven't changed. Second, why would I want to sleep with you? Been there, done that. Third, I represent you here–give you thirty grand in legal services–and you sleep with me once? Christ, I don't know how good you think you are, but pros charge $500 a night out here. I know, I've represented them."

She saw a glimmer of hope. "So if we could work out an arrangement, then maybe . . . ."

I shook my head. "No, Shannon, we couldn't. It's unethical, and I have no reason to believe you won't report me."

Her hands flew across the table and grabbed my left hand. "Erik, set your terms. I don't care what they are, just set them. I won't tell anyone, swear to Christ I won't."

I took a deep breath and started thinking. It took a few minutes, but the puzzle started coming together nicely.

"All right, Shannon, here's how it'll work." I took her hands and kissed them. "You'll get billed at the normal rates. You will be billed every two weeks. You will come to my house the first Saturday night following your receipt of the bill. Got it?" I looked at her. After a moment, she nodded. "You have, of course the right to review your bills. If there's anything you think is unfair or not proper, we will discuss it and negotiate a resolution. I will be absolutely fair on this point, treat you just like I do all of my other clients. Okay?" Again, she nodded. She was getting nervous, though, waiting for the hammer to fall.

I leaned forward and whispered. "For every thousand dollars on that bill you owe me, you will spend a Saturday night at my house. With me. Doing–as you say it–anything."

Her eyes opened wide. "But that could be . . ."

"Exactly," I said, "that could be a lot of Saturday nights. And you can't get behind in your bill, either. So if the bill is two grand, you've got to spend the next two Saturday nights after getting the bill."

"But that's not fair," she said. "That's not what I proposed."

"No, it's not. But it's what I propose. And it's fair. I'm essentially paying you twice what a hooker would get, so the terms are actually more than fair."

"But I'm not a hooker," she said. Tears again streamed down her face. "I don't know," she said.

"Wait," I said, "there are two more rules. First, when you are done spending the nights required, I will give you cash equal to the nights–two nights, two grand. You will then get a money order payable to my law firm and pay the bill with the money I give you. Understand?" She nodded. "Second," I continued, "anything means just what it says: anything. Understand?"

She paused, then nodded.

"Shannon, if you don't follow these rules, I will immediately withdraw as your attorney. You'll have no evidence of our arrangement, and you'll probably lose custody of your kids. Wind up on the streets, for that matter, flat broke and alone. Do you understand?" I leaned forward and took her hands into mine. "You don't have to decide now. For old times' sake, I'll get started on your case immediately. I'll know what your answer is on the first Saturday after the first bill. If you show up, we've got a deal. If you don't, I withdraw."

* * *

Three weeks later, my doorbell rang at 7:00 o'clock on Saturday night. It was a warm evening in early Summer, and she was dressed simply in a yellow cotton sun dress and sandals. The dress flattered her long, slim legs, flat tummy, flaring hips, and breasts still pointing upward. She had taken care of herself since we'd broken up and was, if anything, more beautiful than ever.

"Please," I said, stepping aside, "come in."

She walked past me into the great room, standing there and looking around. Looking at everything except me.

After a few moments of silence, I asked, "So, is this your answer?"

She looked at me. "I don't know yet," she said. "I want to know what anything is going to entail."

I motioned to the love seat and she sat, crossing her legs. I sat on the couch and faced her. 

"Anything means anything," I said. "It was your proposal, your choice of words. It seems clear that it means anything . . . I . . . damned . . . well . . . please."

She nodded. "Even . . . you know?"

I nodded. "Yes," I said, "even that. Don't tell me you still haven't tried . . ."

She shook her head. "No. Never." She looked at me, her eyes pleading. "Why are you doing this?"

I sat back, crossed my legs, and put my right arm over the back of the couch. "I'm not, Shannon. You're doing this. This is your decision."

"You know what I mean," she said.

I smiled. "Yes, I know what you mean." I got up and walked into the kitchen, grabbed a couple of beers, opened them, and returned, placing one of the beers on the table in front of her. I took a drink of my beer. "When you dumped me, you didn't give a shit. Five years, and the best you could do was dump me in two words while some asshole squeezed your ass. A fucking engagement ring on your finger, and you treated me like a goddamned housefly. Brush me off, move on. It's all about you, it's always been all about you, and it will always be all about you." I took another drink. "Well, now it's going to be all about someone else, and you're going to be giving instead of taking."

Her eyes flashed, her anger palpable in her tensed jaw. She picked up the beer and downed half of it, her eyes never leaving me.

"Fine," she said, putting down the beer and kicking off her sandals, "I'll take the deal. And I'll do whatever you say. But it's not going to be me giving to you. Just know that, Erik. I'll be doing this for my children, not for you. And I'll be thinking of someone else every time I do it, not of you."

I nodded. "That's fine," I said. "Then let's begin."

I stood, walked to the light switch, and dimmed the lights, walked to the front door and locked it, and returned to the sofa.

"When we first started dating, I remember you asking me once whether I ever jerked off. I told you yes–hell, who the fuck doesn't–and you laughed. And you would bring it up occasionally, and you'd laugh some more." She tried to suppress a smile. "And you said you never played with yourself." I raised my eyebrow. Her smile disappeared as she saw where this was going. "So what I want you to do is to play with yourself for me."

She laughed. "You're kidding me."

I shook my head. "I assure you I'm not." I leaned forward. "There's more. I want you to talk dirty to me while you do it." She glared at me. "And I mean dirty to me, not to someone else." She couldn't avoid thinking of me now, and she knew it. I smiled and raised my eyebrow. "I'm waiting."

She stood, took another drink of her beer, pushed her dress straps to one side, and shrugged it down her lithe figure. She was wearing a lacy white push-up bra and a matching g-string. Her skin was pale, almost luminescent. Her belly was flat, her hips flaring slightly, and no hair showed from the sides of the g-string. Did she shave now? There was a faint scar just above the top of the g-string. I leaned forward and gazed, lost in her beauty. Say this, she looked better than when she was in high school. And the scar was probably from a caesarean section, so her pussy may still be tight. I felt a tightening in my trousers.

"Like what you see?" she said, reaching up to unclasp her bra from the front.


Educating Shannon



I nodded.

A faint smile came to her lips. "I thought you would," she said. She slipped the bra off her shoulders, pinching her shoulder blades together and jutting out her breasts as she did so. They were better than ever, larger than before–apparently the product of children–but still pointing slightly north of the equator. Her nipples were flat against tiny areolae. She leaned her head forward and flicked her tongue at her left nipple, then turned and circled her right nipple with her darting tongue before taking it into her mouth and sucking gently. "Don't you want to do this?" she said.

I was speechless, my mouth hanging open, my cock straining at my zipper.

Slowly, achingly, she traced her hands up her sides, across her belly, and under her breasts. She tweaked her nipples, slowly pinching and stretching while her head shifted between the two. Her tongue was flickering, darting from nipple to nipple then slowly tracing circles lightly across the tops and sides. "I've missed you," she said. "You used to do this, remember?"

"My name, Shannon," I said. "Remember, you're doing this for me."

She trailed her right hand down her ribcage, across to the left side of her flat stomach, and just beneath the string on top of her g-string. "Is this what you wanted to see? Erik" she said. "My pussy? My soaking wet, tight pussy?" Her hand reached further into the g-string, her hips swaying slowly from side to side.

Where had she learned to do this? I wondered. Why hadn't she done this before, when we were together? My arousal was quickly turning to anger, jealousy. What else had she denied me, but so freely given to others?

I watched her hand go further into the g-string and begin to make circular movements, her hips beginning to grind as she sucked on her nipples more insistently. "I can't do this alone," she said.

"C'mon Erik,"she said, "I want you to help me." She gazed into my eyes, tears forming. "Please, Erik, don't make me do this alone." I ignored her, and she went back to darting the tip of her tongue around her areolae. Her right hand began to quicken, and her breath started coming in short gasps.

"Take your panties off," I said. "Sit and spread your legs. And talk more." She looked at me, tears freely flowing down her cheeks.

"Please," she said, "this is so . . . so degrading." Her hand was only lightly moving inside her panties.

"Not at all," I said. "Actually, it's quite beautiful. And very erotic." I pointed at the tent in my trousers that was now impossible to hide.

"But Erik . . ."

"Shhh," I said. "If you do this really well, convince me you've got your heart and soul in it, I'll reward you."

"How?" she said, using her left hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

"It'll be fair," I said. "You'll just have to trust me on this one." She looked doubtful. "You really have little choice, you know."

She backed up to the love seat and sat, raised her legs, and slipped the g-string down her legs. There was a small, feathery tuft of blonde pubic hair above the hood of her clit, and nothing else. My God, I thought, she shaves. She put her heels on the table in front of her, leaned back, tilted her head to the ceiling, and went back to manipulating her pussy. She was wet, I saw. The juices glistened on her inner thighs and trickled down to her perineum. Her fingers were moving slowly up and down her pussy lips, stopping every now and then to circle around her engorged clit. "I need you, Erik," she said. "I don't want to do this alone. Please," she looked back at me, her eyelids now half-closed and her upper body involuntarily swaying with the feelings rushing through her.

I stood and walked to her. "It's not about you," I said, unzipping my trousers. "For once, it's about me." I slid out of my pants and stood in front of her, my cock sticking straight up inches from her lips.

"Can I suck your cock?" she said, reaching up and grasping it firmly with her right hand. I pushed the hand away. "Don't stop what you're doing," I said, gently taking her left hand from her breast and wrapping it around my cock. Her hand was cool, and I nearly came when she tightened her grip and began slowly stroking me. Concentrate, I thought, make this last. She leaned forward and flicked her tongue over and around the head of my cock, continuing to stroke me slowly but firmly. "Is this what you want?" she said. "You want me to suck your cock?" Her breath was coming in short gasps. I looked down and watched her right hand, which kept up the same rhythm as before–up, down, up, down, circle the clit, the occasional figure eight around her entire soaking pussy. A small damp spot was gathering on the love seat between her legs. I hadn't been this turned on in my whole fucking life.

I wasn't watching when she opened her mouth and engulfed half of my cock down her throat, sucking hard as she did so. I threw my head back with the shock and pleasure, and she moaned and picked up the pace gradually. "Oh my God," I moaned, reaching down to brush with my fingertips her soft shoulders and upper arms. Her moaning increased in response. I looked down, brushing the tops of her breasts, cupping her right breast in the palm of my hand and squeezing. I saw her middle finger disappear into her pussy, and she started urgently pulling the rest of her hand up against her clit.

"Oh yes, Erik," she gasped, her mouth coming off of my cock, "touch me. Touch me everywhere."

"You're doing just fine," I said, touching her cheek with my fingertips and guiding her mouth back to my cock. "Remember," I said, my breath getting short now, "this is about . . . ."

I went back to squeezing her breast, my right hand stroking her soft cheek. She started groaning around my cock, her legs tensing up. "I'm cumming, Erik," she panted, throwing her head back and gasping for breath, her hand stroking my cock faster and faster, her hand a vice.

She started shaking. "Oh God, oh yes, oh Christ yes."

I couldn't hold back any longer. "Oh Shannon," I gasped, my first shot shooting like an arc over her head, my second just under her chin, and the rest in the middle of her tits. It had been a long dry spell, and I went weak in the knees with the force of energy that suddenly left.

She just lay there, covered in cum, panting. "So," she said, between breaths, "do I get my reward?"

I could only nod in response.

"And what is my reward?"

I turned around and collapsed onto the love seat beside her. When I caught my breath, I turned to look at her. "Your choice."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning," I said, reaching out and stroking her thigh, "it's your call. Whatever you want to do." She looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "Within reason," I added.

She nodded, beginning to get her energy back. After a moment, she took my hand off her thigh, stood up, and announced, "Then I want to take a shower and go home." With that, she finished her beer and wandered off in search of a shower.

She could still surprise me.

* * *

Shannon was in my office the following Tuesday, late afternoon. There was–as threatened by her asshole husband–a flood of discovery requests, motions, and paperwork from some big city law firm. That bastard was true to his word: He was going to try to spend her into the ground on this. I could've kissed him for it; her bill was already nearing $7,000.00, and she's be spending the foreseeable future in my bedroom trying to pay it all off.

After an hour of reviewing documents, signing pleadings, and discussing strategy, I pushed back from the table and put my pen down. "Okay," I said, "it's been an hour, so we're off the clock as of now. Okay?"

She nodded. "How long do I have to live in the same house as this son of a bitch?"

"We're preparing some motions to get him out and get you in," I said, "but they could take a while to get in front of a judge. Remember, this is a custody case, and these things can take a couple of years."

Her shoulders slumped. "Why?"

"Because," I said, "we've got to finish discovery, the Guardian ad Litem has to do her report, we have depositions and business valuations, settlement conferences with the court, and so on and so on. And one of this can be done tomorrow."

She looked down at the table. "Erik," she said, "you're not just doing all of this to prolong our . . . You know."

"No, Shannon, I'm not." I pushed back from the table, walked to the door, stuck my head out, and called, "Rebecca, can you please come in her for a minute?" Seconds later, Rebecca entered. She smelled nice today, I noticed, a combination of citrus and spice. I should've hired an old hag. It would sure as hell improve my concentration around the office.

"What's up?" Rebecca said.

"You remember Ms. Hollis," I said, jerking my head toward Shannon. Shannon looked up and tried to smile at Rebecca.

"Sure," Rebecca said. "You holding up okay?" she said, placing her hand on Shannon's shoulder and gently squeezing. Hmmm, what's this? I thought.

Shannon placed her hand on top of Rebecca's and said, "Okay, I guess."

"Rebecca," I said, "you're familiar with this file, right?" Rebecca nodded. "And you know how long divorce cases usually take, right?"

"Like this one?" she said. "Two, three years at least is my best guess."

"What if I told you I have assured Ms. Hollis that this one will be done in about eighteen months?"

"I'd say you're being awful optimistic," she said. She looked down at Shannon, smiling gently, her fingertips tracing down the back of her arm. "You have no idea how complex your case is, Shannon. These things take forever. But if Erik says he'll have it done in eighteen months, he's working miracles, okay?"

"Thanks, Rebecca," Shannon said.

When Rebecca left, I closed the door behind her and went back to my chair. "You know," I said, "you could help us here."

"How?"

"Does he have a computer that he uses?" She nodded. "Then get me that computer," I said. "We tend to find plenty of useful surprises on them."

"I'll try."

"Good." I leaned forward and lowered my voice. "About the other night." She looked down at the table, her good cheer dissipating. "Did you have a good time?"

She shook her head.

"Have you, you know, have touched yourself since?"

Her head shot up, her eyes glaring. "None of your fucking business."

"Did you think of me when you did?"

She blushed a deep red and said nothing. That's okay, I though, I had my answer.

* * *

One night when we were still dating, Shannon and I were laying in bed after a marathon lovemaking session. Talk turned to our sexual fantasies. We discussed threesomes–she wanted me and my best friend, I wanted her and her best friend. What're you going to do with two of us? she'd asked. Watch you together, I said. She had crinkled her nose. Gross, she had said. That doesn't turn you on even a little? I'd asked. Does it turn you on to think of having to blow your best friend? She made a good point.

We had also discussed role playing. I don't remember what ideas I had, but I will never forget her favorite. She wanted to be dominated, nearly raped. She wanted a guy to totally control her. While we had engaged in some light bondage, it never went beyond that. And, frankly, I was not too keen on ruining a good thing by being too dominant with her. What if I crossed some unknown line? She'd have dumped me sure as shit. But not now, she wouldn't. And that's when I started figuring out what to do on Saturday night. There was shopping to be done for this, and I spent my spare time planning this in great detail.

* * *

At 6:30 Saturday night, I watched from the shadows as Shannon walked to my front door. I watched her read the sign on the door–I'm in back on the deck. Please join me–and turn to walk around the side of the house. When she reached the back of the house, the lights were off.

"Erik," she called. "Erik, where are you." She stepped forward, looking through the arborvitae surrounding the deck. "This isn't funny," she said.

"It's not supposed to be funny," I whispered in her ear, clamping my right hand over her mouth and my left around her waist, lifting her slightly off the ground. She jumped in my arms, gasping under my hand.

"I don't know what you think you're doing here," I continued whispering into her ear. "This is private property, and you're trespassing. You must be looking for something, or someone." She struggled in my arms, and I was forced to squeeze her tighter. I didn't want to hurt her, but she was kicking back at me now and it hurt like hell. "You move one more fucking muscle and you're going to be severely punished," I hissed. She stopped moving. "There's no one for a half mile around here," I said, "so you can scream all you want when I take my hand off your mouth. But if you do, I'll be very, very pissed off. Do you understand." She nodded. "Good," I said, and took my hand off of her mouth.

I reached into my pocket as she tried to turn. "What the fuck . . ."

"Shut up," I said, snapping a handcuffs around her right wrist before snatching her left forearm, bringing it around behind her, and snapping it firmly around her left wrist.

"Erik," she said, trying to turn and face me, "this isn't . . . ."

"I said shut the fuck up." I tugged down on the handcuffs to make my point. "Trespassing is illegal," I said, watching her jaw muscles and shoulders tighten. "And people who break the law should be punished." I spun her around and threw her over my shoulder. "Punished severely," I said, dodging a kick aimed carefully at a spot that would quickly put an end to my scheme. I reached up and slapped her ass. Hard. She jumped in my arms.

"Goddamnit, Erik, this isn't funny." She kept trying to kick me, but I clamped my left hand over the back of her calves and pulled them in close. She gave up and went slack on my shoulders. I could hear her sniffling, frustrated and angry.

I walked her to the railing on the deck and slung her off of my shoulders, holding her by the back to keep her from falling over. She was panting, her mouth slightly open, tears streaming down her cheeks. I leaned over and kissed her on the lips, my tongue darting out and flicking her lower lip. Her mouth didn't respond, but I didn't let that stop me. I trailed my kisses down her jawbone and to the base of her left ear, nibbling on her earlobe and blowing into her ear. With my right hand, I unbuttoned her blouse and reached my hand in, around her bra, and palpitated her breast, rolling her nipple between my thumb and forefinger.

"This isn't doing anything for me," she said, frozen in place.

"Like I fucking care, lady," I said into her hear. "I'm going to fuck your brains out, in every hole, and teach you who's running this show."

She stiffened. "Not . . . ."

"Oh yes," I murmured, flicking my tongue down the side of her neck before kissing her collar bone. "Whatever I want."

With that, I grabbed her blouse in my hands and tore it down to her waist, exposing her to the warm summer night air.

She gasped, straining backward. "Please, Erik, I'll do anything else," she pleaded. "You won't regret it, really."

"I'll do anything else anyway," I said, looking into her eyes while I slipped the clasp of her bra. I leaned forward and sucked her right nipple into my mouth, brushing my right hand over her left breast before pinching that nipple. Her eyes showed fear, but her body was responding. Her nipples were hardening, and I did my best to help her along, alternating my mouth from nipple to nipple and darting the tip of my tongue over and around her areolae.

She continued to plead, but her tears were drying up and she was jutting her breasts out at me. My mouth left her breasts and kissed their way down her ribcage to the center of her belly, just above the button on her shorts. Reaching behind her, I opened a cooler and grabbed something. "Tell me," I said, standing back up and applying the tip of the popsicle to her left nipple, "did you think you could get away with prowling around here?" I traced circles around her breasts, occasionally touching it to her nipples before going back.

"No," she said, her body tightening each time the popsicle touched a nipple.

"No, Sir," I said, leaving the popsicle on her nipple for a moment.

"No, Sir," she repeated.

I leaned over and sucked a nipple into my mouth. It was hard as a pebble, jutting from distended areolae.

"Oh, God," she moaned.

"You like this?" I said, alternating popsicle, suck, popsicle, suck on both her breasts. I licked underneath her breasts and trailed the popsicle after, making her shudder. "I said, do you like this?" I went back to her nipples, but this time with my teeth.

"Yes," she said, groaning louder, "I like this."

"Yes, Sir," I said, spinning her around to face the railing. I reached over to another pair of handcuffs already attached to the railing on one end.

"What are you doing?" she said, tensing up and pulling back into me.

"Teaching you some fucking manners," I replied, pushing her forward, undoing her handcuffs in back, re-locking them in front of her, and locking her handcuffs to the pair on the railing.

I reached around her waist and unbuttoned her shorts, slid down the zipper, and tugged them down her hips. She spread her legs to try preventing this, but I took my right foot and slid her right leg toward her left, throwing her momentarily off balance and allowing me to get the shorts to her ankles. She was wearing a g-string again. Perfect.

I stood back from her, watching her try to reach out and kick me. "I can see you're a slow learner," I said, stepping forward and smacking my palm against her right ass cheek, leaving a red palm print. "I can see it's going to take time to teach you some manners." I gave her left ass cheek a matching palm print. I took my time: right ass cheek, left ass cheek.

"Please, Erik, that hurts," she pleaded, her sobbing getting louder.

"Please, Sir," I said, smacking her a little harder to make the point.

"Please, Sir," she repeated. "I'm sorry, Sir. I'll do whatever you want." Her head was buried between her arms, her ass clenching in anticipation of the next blow.

"Anything?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. I smacked her ass. "Sir. Yes, Sir."

"Very good," I said, reaching for another popsicle. I stepped forward and touched it to her reddened cheeks. She clenched, and I continued tracing it over her ass in lazy figure eights. I kneeled behind her and lightly kissed her ass cheeks, darting my tongue and following the popsicle.

"Please, Sir, don't hurt me any more," she said, her crying subsiding and her legs parting slightly. I continued my ministrations on her reddened ass, concentrating on the task at hand. I pulled the back of the g-string from her crack and traced the popsicle slowly down, following with my darting tongue.

When the popsicle reached her perineum I traced away to the cheeks, and she pushed her ass up and out toward me. "Want something?" I said, tracing the popsicle down, out and around, careful to avoid her pussy.

"Please, Sir," she said, panting lightly, "please touch my pussy." Her hips were following the popsicle–and my trailing tongue–swaying lightly in the moonlight. I reached up and touched the lips of her pussy and she was on fire. I traced my fingertips around the outside of her pussy and said, "You like being punished, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir," she said, trying to grind her pussy onto my fingers. I traced the popsicle down her crack again, but when I neared the bottom I stopped and gently prodded inward, pressing upward with my fingers at the same time. She gasped, involuntarily spreading her legs wider and arching her back, her ass now pointed upward.

I thrust two fingers up and forward into her pussy, seeking out her g-spot. "Oh my God," she said, thrusting her ass out and rubbing it against the popsicle. I concentrated on the tight, crinkled rosebud before me, rubbing the popsicle around the perimeter before returning and prodding gently in the center. My fingers kept the thrusting in her pussy, and she couldn't help but thrust back to the popsicle, her hips grinding and swaying. "Please, Sir," she said, "fuck my pussy. Please." She was panting quickly, her hips speeding up, her head rising and falling between her cuffed arms. "Please, please, oh . . . ." I pulled the popsicle away and flicked my hot tongue at her chilled asshole, increasing the pace and force of my fingers. She was bucking now, her hips thrusting out and forcing my tongue into her asshole, my fingers against her clit. "Just a little bit more," she moaned, "just a . . . ."




Educating Shannon



And I stopped, jerking my fingers from her pussy. "Erik," she pleaded, and I smacked her ass cheek. She jumped, but got the point. "I'm sorry. Sir, please don't stop."

"You like this, don't you?" I said, turning to the patio table and reaching for my next round.

"Yes, Sir, I like this. Please." Her breath was returning to normal, the tension in her body melting away. She tried to stand and look back at me over her shoulder. "Please," she said, softly.

"Then let's see how you like this," I said, sliding a sleeping mask over her eyes. "You like?"

She wasn't sure, so I slapped her ass. She tensed. "Yes," she said quickly. "Yes, Sir, I like this very much."

"Then how about this?" I said, squeezing some lube onto my fingers and tracing it from her clit to her asshole. Her hips followed my fingers, a moan escaping her lips.

"Yes, Sir," she said when I reached the back of her pussy, "I like this very . . . ." Her voice stopped when my fingers reached her asshole and began gently rubbing the lube around it.

"I can't hear you," I said, squeezing more lube on my fingers and returning them to her asshole, gently prodding with my middle finger.

"Please, no, please," she said, tensing up.

"Are you sure?" I said. I grabbed a vibrator from the table, turned it on, and touched it to the lips of her pussy.

"Oh my God," she said, arching her back and grinding her pelvis down to the vibrator. I moved it back, and back with it went her pussy, again exposing her rosebud. I returned my attentions there, tracing my fingers around, prodding, tracing, prodding. I leaned forward and returned my tongue to her ass, nibbling while my hands went busy on her holes. She was panting again, her hips gyrating with the movements of the vibrator. Up, down, front, back, front, up. Slowly, her asshole loosened and my finger went in. This produced a brief gasp, so I plunged the vibrator straight up into her folds, producing a bigger gasp and more fevered gyrations.

As her asshole loosened, I slowly began moving my finger in and out, in and out, getting it all the way in on every stroke and taking it almost all the way out. As she was nearing orgasm, I pulled my finger all the way out, quickly, and turned off the vibrator, easing it out slowly.

"No," she said, frantic, her head moving quickly from side to side. "Please, Sir, keep going. Fuck my pussy, stick your fingers in my ass. Please," she said. She was jutting her ass out at me.

"Oh, we'll continue soon," I said, grabbing a slim vibrator and rubbing it thoroughly with lube. When I was done with that, I put both vibrators on the deck at her feet and got on my knees. I grabbed her hips, spread her ass, and started kissing and darting my tongue from the top of her ass downward. When I reached her asshole, I paused briefly in my journey, tracing circles around her asshole before probing my tongue into the crinkle. It loosened up almost immediately, and I began tongue fucking her ass forcefully.

"Oh, fuck," she gasped. Her hips arched upward, and I pulled my tongue from her ass, flicking down over the knot of her perineum before sinking my face into the folds of her hot, wet pussy. It had been ten years since I had been in this pussy, but I remembered it like it was yesterday. I inhaled her aroma and flicked my tongue over the hood of her clit, pressing down with my tongue while moving my lips over folds. My hand went back up to her ass, groped for a moment, found its target, and snaked a finger back into her asshole. She didn't flinch. Instead, she was grinding her hips wildly against my tongue, moaning. "Yes, yes, yes. Oh, Erik, don't stop. Oh yes, fuck, yes." So I stopped.

This time she slumped to the deck, her arms in a tangle above her, supporting her weight as she leaned back against the deck railing. "Please," she said, her masked head turning from side to side, "not again. I can't take this anymore. Please let me cum."

I smiled. The moment I had been waiting for.

"Let you cum?" I mocked. Her head swiveled to my voice. "That's not punishment" I said. "That's pleasure. Reward. What have you done to deserve a reward?" At this, I slowly unbuttoned and unzipped my shorts and slid them off, my cock bursting from cover.

"Anything, Erik." I cleared my throat. "Sir," she corrected, "anything. I'll do anything you want. And this time I mean it."

I smiled, stepping toward her. "Then how about this," I said, grabbing the back of her head and guiding her mouth to my cock. She slid it right into her mouth, and I forced her head even further, groaning with the sensations. I was near bursting and needed to cum–quickly.

"Suck on it harder," I said, sliding in and out of her mouth, my cock picking up speed. She obeyed, sucking for all she was worth. She was groaning around my cock, and that put me close. Time for something she'd never allowed.

"Oh fuck yes," I groaned, feeling my cum rising, "I'm gonna cum." She tried to pull back off my cock, but I kept my hand firmly on the back of her head and picked up speed. "You said anything," I gasped, shooting into her mouth. She tried to swallow, but started gagging. I ignored her, though, and finished shooting my load into the back of her throat.

When she started coughing violently around my cock, I withdrew. "You fucking bastard," she hissed, coughing and sputtering.

"Shut up," I said, leaning over, grabbing her under the arms, jerking her to her feet, and spinning her around, "or I won't give you your reward." I kneeled behind her and dove into her pussy tongue first, causing her to buck her hips and spread her legs wider.

"This is what you wanted," I mumbled, "isn't it?" I stuck my tongue as far as I could into her folds, causing a prolonged moan.

"Yes, yes Sir," she moaned, forgetting the cum in her belly.

I continued lapping at her pussy while I smeared some lube on my fingers. I spread her ass and started rubbing my fingers around, occasionally probing into the ring and spreading the lube thoroughly. I went back for more lube, and continued readying her for the next round, and her ass stuck out, seeking the fingers that were moments before tickling and touching her back passage. When I returned my fingers, she groaned loudly. "Yes, keep doing it," she said. "Finger fuck my ass," she moaned, grinding her hips down and out–down onto my tongue and out to suck in my finger further.

"You love this, don't you?"

"Yes," she panted, her breath coming in shorter gasps. "I do. I love this. Keep going." And I did, my tongue getting more insistent and my finger now sawing in and out of her asshole. She started panting loudly. "Oh fuck," she groaned. "Oh yes, yes, yes. God yes. Oh fuck."

I felt her legs tense and her pussy started quivering, her asshole clenching and unclenching around my finger. She was cumming, and hard. My face was drenched in juices as she let out a long, shuddering groan and nearly collapsed.

I pulled my finger from her ass and propped her back up. She seemed spent, her breath taking time to come back to normal.

"Thank you," she said.

"We're not done yet," I replied, grabbing the vibrator and touching it to her drenched pussy lips.

She moaned. "No, Erik, please . . . ."

I slapped her ass. Hard. "Let's not forget our manners."

"I'm sorry, Sir," she said, panting again. "But I'm sensitive. It hurts. Please, Sir."

I ignored her, lightly brushing the vibrator back and forth over her pussy, which seemed to be getting wetter by the second. I didn't think that was possible, but it was.

My cock sprang back to life, and a dull ache was throbbing in my balls. This was beginning to hurt me more than it was hurting her.

I greased up my fingers again and spread it over the long, slim vibrator at her feet. I touched the tip to the cortex of her rosebud and prodded. "No," she said, "please don't." The vibrator was more narrow than two fingers, but noticeably larger than just one. I knew there would be pain, but after finger fucking her ass so hard with just one finger, I knew she would soon get accustomed to her new friend. So I kept the pressure light and centered the other vibrator over the hood of her clit. She moaned in response, trying to keep from arching her ass outward.

"Tell me you want it," I said, leaning in and flicking my tongue at the knot of her perineum and the back of her pussy.

"No, please Sir, I don't," she said, panting, fighting the feelings overwhelming her senses.

"Your voice says no," I said, and I thrust my tongue deeply into her folds, tongue fucking her for a moment. She shuddered and bucked, groaning and panting. I pulled my tongue out. "But your body says yes." I slid the vibrator from her clit to her opening and slowly pushed it in.

Her senses were now focused on the humming in her pussy, loosening the knot in her ass and allowing the tip of the vibrator to slide in. I took it slow on her ass and maintained the rhythm in her pussy, occasionally licking around her vulva as I did so. "Beg me," I said. "Beg me to fuck your ass."

She only panted and groaned in response, suddenly clenching up around the vibrator in her ass. I pulled the vibrator from her pussy and started moving the ass vibrator in and out an inch or so.

"Please," she said, "put it back in."

"Beg me," I repeated.

"Please."

"Beg me." I flicked my tongue over and around her clit. "Now."

"Please, Sir, fuck my ass," she panted. "Just don't stop what you're doing."

I returned the vibrator to her pussy and teased it in. In a little, withdraw, in a little more, withdraw. Her panting was picking up again, and her asshole loosened around the vibrator. And my nuts were aching big time. "You sure?"

"Yes," she panted, her hips bucking, "fuck my ass."

"Okay," I said, pulling the vibrator from her pussy and standing behind her. She gasped as I plunged my cock into her soaking pussy to the hilt. It had been ten years since I had been in her, but it was as tight as our first time. Only difference is she had never been so hot and so wet. And I mean never, not even fucking close.

I thrust hard and fast, ramming into her as far as I could before nearly withdrawing, my hips keeping the slim vibrator in her puckering asshole. She was nearly screaming now. "Yes, oh fuck I've missed this cock, oh yes, harder harder harder."

Without warning, she spasmed uncontrollably around my dick, panting and gasping, shaking all over. I didn't stop, just fucked her harder. When her body relaxed, she started moaning loudly. "Please, Sir," she moaned, turning her head back over her shoulder and trying to look at me through the mask. "Please fuck me, use me. Fuck my holes." She bit her lower lip, and I figured now was the time to take it to a new level.

I stopped long enough to reach down and turn the base of the vibrator in her ass, and a soft humming started. She threw her head back, arched her back, and thrust back at me. "Ahhhh," she screamed. "Yes, yes, fuck me. Come on, fuck me, punish my pussy." Her body tensed again, her ass jamming into my pelvis and thrusting the vibrator nearly to the base. "Fuck my ass," she screamed. "Please, fuck my ass."

But I couldn't. I was lost in my lust for her steaming hot pussy, which was convulsing around my cock wildly. Instead, I reached down and began sawing the vibrator in and out of her ass, occasionally pulling it all the way out before plunging it back in again. Her asshole was loosened now, and the vibrator slid in and out effortlessly. She came again. And again. And yet again, her orgasms following each other now nearly one on top of the other, her body tensing and relaxing, shaking, her hips bucking harder and harder into me. She was screaming, begging for more, tears rolling down her cheeks with the pleasure almost too much to bear.

I felt my balls tighten and my cum begin to build. "Holy shit," I growled, looking down and watching my cock pump feverishly, enjoying the sight of the vibrator fucking her ass for all I was worth. Without warning, my cock exploded into her spasming pussy, shooting load after load into her depths. She spasmed even harder and shoved her ass back at me as hard as she could. "Fuck," she said, shaking and quivering from her head to her toes, her head tossing from side to side. "Yes, fill me, fill me with your cum."

Her orgasm lasted nearly a minute, her whole body shaking and twitching, me all but trapped in her folds enjoying the feelings flooding through my hips. For a moment, I was afraid her pussy was going to rip my dick off, but soon I decided there were worse ways to go.

When she finally came down, her whole body slumped as I slowly pulled the vibrator from her ass and my cock from her pussy. She gasped from the emptiness, then buried her head between her arms, panting. "Wow," she whispered.

I reached over her and undid the handcuffs. She fell back into me, and I had to catch her to keep her from going down. "That was too much," she said, turning her head back to me, still breathing hard. I slipped the mask off her face and she looked into my eyes, her great big, sparkling green eyes looking into me so deep I couldn't tell what she was thinking.

"Thank you," she finally said, leaning over and brushing her lips against mine, her tongue darting against my teeth.

I kissed her back, the tentative first kiss in ten years. She turned to face me, put her arms around my neck, and kissed me again, harder, her tongue more insistent. I returned the kiss, getting hungrier, my cock twitching in protest. I cupped her ass with my right hand, gently brushing my fingertips over the small of her back up to her shoulder blades with my left. She was grinding against me slowly, and her hand sought out my balls and tickled them lightly with her fingertips before gently squeezing them, her other hand up around my neck.

And still we kept on kissing, like two horny teenagers on a first date, exploring each other as if for the first time, as if the last hour and a half had never happened.

* * *

On Monday evening, I was sitting at my dining room table methodically going through Ron Hollis's credit card statements for the past three years. We had requested these–and tons more–in discovery, and at least the big firm was prompt in getting this to me. They were almost too happy to comply, actually, giving me four boxes filled with neatly stacked documentation containing the financial history of Ron Hollis and the family business. It was mind numbing work, reviewing credit card statements and highlighting charges that seemed out of the ordinary. The devil is in the details, though, and it had to be done.

After scanning through seventeen months of Hollis's Capitol One personal card statements, I noticed a pattern repeating itself on an obscure charge to an offshore vendor of some kind. Every three months there was a hundred dollar charge to singaporeslings.com. It could've been business related, but what the fuck could a commercial construction business buy from Asia–every three months–that cost only a hundred bucks? I fired up my laptop, went to the net, and typed in the web address, but I was denied access to the page. I tried every permutation I could find, but still I couldn't get there. I was getting a sneaking suspicion that I was onto something, but I was going to need proof.

I picked up my phone and dialed.

"Hello?" she said.

"Shannon, it's Erik," I said. She said nothing, so I continued. "Listen, I need you to get over here. Now."

"Fuck you," she said. "That's not the deal." The line went dead.

I was stunned. Saturday night she makes out with my like a giddy schoolgirl–totally voluntary, mind you, at least at the end–and now she's the cold bitch who threw me out like garbage.

I dialed back, her cell phone this time. She didn't answer, so I left a message. "Shannon, it's Erik again. Really, you need to get over here now. This isn't about any deal, this is about your case." I was speaking fast, my suspicions getting the better of me. God, I love the hunt of good litigation. I forced my self to talk slower. "Listen, this could blow the lid off the case, so you need to get your ass over here."

Five minutes later, my phone rang. I answered. "Is this a game?"

"No," I said, "swear to God."

The line went dead again. Fifteen minutes later, my doorbell rang.

"Look at these," I said, showing her the highlighted charges on the statements.

She looked, shrugged. "Yeah? So?"

"Shannon," I said, "what the fuck could he be consistently paying for from Asia? Nothing in the business, I can guarantee that. Hell, shipping alone would eat up most of that cost. And it's a restricted access website. Very restricted. I just spent a half hour trying to get into it." She only nodded, her eyes darting back to the statements.

"Shannon." She looked back at me, into my eyes. "Most kiddie porn originates in Asia. I think this sick fucker is a member of this site, and I think his computer's loaded with it." Her eyes went wide. "Now, for the hundredth time, will you please get me his goddamned laptop?"

"Fuckin' A right I will," she said, turning and leaving as quickly as she'd come.

* * * 

Shannon dropped off a laptop computer early the next morning. She was in the parking lot when I got there, Rebecca pulling into the lot behind me.

"You'll have to hurry," Shannon said, holding the computer out for me to take. "He'll miss it soon, so get whatever you can as quickly as possible."

I nodded. "We'll get right to it."

Rebecca strode up. "Hey, boss," she said, "hey Ms. Hollis."

Shannon smiled in response. "The computer," I said. Rebecca nodded. "I think it's gonna hold some surprises, so we need to get someone to look at it."

"I know just the person," Rebecca said, taking the computer before reaching out to squeeze Shannon's arm and walking into the office.

* * *

Late that afternoon, Rebecca walked into my office and threw herself onto the chair facing my desk. "Case over," she said, grinning ear to ear.

"Please tell me it's kiddie porn," I said, and her eyebrows shot up.

"How did you . . . ."

"Asian website on his credit cards every three months," I said. "Only a hundred bucks every three months, so I figured it had to be something like that. Is it still on the computer?" She nodded. "Can we prove it was him?"

"Oh yeah," she said. "How you wanna play this?" I said nothing, my mind whirring. "We could turn it over to the cops," she continued after a moment. "They'd have a field day."

I shook my head. "Doesn't do us any good in jail," I said. "We need him out there, making money to pay her–support and alimony, among other things–and scared shitless of being exposed."

Rebecca nodded. I noticed a faint odor, her perfume. I don't know what it was, but it matched her: spicy, sweet, and subtle. She was dressed to the nines in a tight pair of hip-hugging, low cut slacks and a narrow-waisted, white cotton, button-up shirt unbuttoned to her cleavage.

"What are you looking at?" she said, grinning and turning her head slightly to the left.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "You just . . . ."

"Thanks," she said, laughing. "It's been a while for me, too."

"Well," I said, not sure whether I should say more, whether I was reading the signals right, "you know what they say. All work and no play . . . ."

"Make Becca a dull girl," she finished. "So what am I gonna do about that?" She leaned back in the chair, pulling her feet up under her ass and crossing her arms around her long, slim legs.

I leaned back as well. "Are you, you know . . . ." She nodded. "Probably not very wise," I continued, "given that I'm your boss and all."

She smiled. "Sexual harassment doesn't apply when it's my idea."

She had a point. "But still. I mean . . . ." I didn't know how to put this. She raised an eyebrow, so I decided to go ahead, toss the dice and hope this didn't ruin the moment–or the offer. "Last week, with Shannon."




Educating Shannon



"Shannon Hollis?" I nodded. "What about it?"

"The way you touched her, looked at her," I said. "I guess I just assumed . . . ."

She laughed. "I'm bi-curious, boss," she said. "No need to limit my chances of getting laid to only half the population." My jaw parted slightly, and I couldn't keep my eyebrows from going up or my eyes from opening wider. "That's not a deal killer, is it?"

I shook my head. "But who would you rather have, me or Shannon?"

She pondered that for a moment. "I don't see why I'd have to choose. You're here now, and I doubt she'd be game, so probably you."

"But if she was game?"

"Coin toss," she said. "I'd do either."

I smiled. "How about both?" And I told her about my arrangement, eventually setting the terms for my next meeting with Shannon.

* * *

When Shannon arrived the following Saturday, I swept her through the door before she bothered knocking.

"This way," I said, sweeping my arm toward the master bedroom door. She said nothing, just kicked off her sandals, placed her purse on the sofa table, and walked toward the door.

"What's this?" she said, stopping just in the doorway and looking at the bed. There were handcuffs on the headboard and silk scarves knotted around the footboard.

"It's what I felt like tonight," I said, nudging her into the bedroom and closing the door behind me. I reached up and placed my hand on her shoulder. "Afraid?"

She looked back at me over her shoulder and snorted. I reached around and undid the buttons of her blouse, and she just stood there, not helping or moving.

"Do you like this?" she said. "Treating me like your own personal whore?"

"Is that what you think?" I said, unbuckling her belt before unbuttoning her shorts, sliding down the zipper, and tugging them down her hips.

"Yes," she said. "It makes me feel dirty–you make me feel dirty."

"Is that how you felt last week?" I said, unclasping her bra from behind before reaching around the front and placing my hands under the cups and gently squeezing her breasts. "I seem to remember you liking that."

"I did, Erik, while you were doing it." She shrugged the bra off her shoulders and turned over her shoulder to look me in the eyes. "But afterwards, when I was home, thinking about it all, I just felt dirty."

I slid my hands off her breasts and down her ribcage to the swelling above her hips. "That's not how I want you to feel," I said.

"Then how do you want me to feel?"

Nothing immediately came to mind, so I started nibbling at the back of her neck. I decided to keep the now-familiar g-string in place. 

She bowed her head forward, her hands reaching behind her and grabbing my hips. "I said, how do you want me to feel?"

I kissed down the back of her shoulders. "I'll tell you," I said, my lips brushing her earlobe and nibbling on her neck. "I want you to feel good. I want you to try all of the things we always said we wanted to try but never had the chance."

"Like what?" she said, turning to face me, her hands going up around my neck.

"You'll see," I said, pushing her back onto the bed. I pulled her up into position and clicked the handcuffs, one on each hand, and tied the scarves securely around her ankles, making sure she was spread eagled but with enough room to move and thrash about some. She was compliant, and I was soon satisfied with my handiwork. I finished it off with the sleeping mask. "Don't want to ruin the surprise," I said.

I went to the walk-in closet and opened it, putting my finger to my lips while nodding motioning for Rebecca to come out.

Rebecca had undressed since I left her in the closet, and her young–6 or 7 years younger than me, at least–firm body was striking. Her skin was dark and smooth, hairless all over except the long mane of lustrous black hair cascading over her shoulders. Her legs were long, smooth, and toned, her belly flat and firm and well muscled, her ass small and tight, her breasts perfect B cups with chocolate areolae and dark, hard nipples. She was excited, and she followed me to the bedroom and stood, staring at the spread-eagled woman laying on the bed before her.

She walked softly to the bed and leaned over, flicking her tongue over Shannon's breasts, stopping occasionally to suck hard on a nipple before going back to the breast.

"That's nice, Erik," Shannon said. I shed my clothes and took a seat in the corner, watching the scene before me. Rebecca continued slowly licking and sucking, occasionally trailing her tongue down to Shannon's bellybutton and going back up again.

After a few minutes, Shannon was moaning on the bed, her hips undulating slowly. "Please," she said, "don't make me wait this time."

In response, Rebecca trailed her kisses down Shannon's stomach and flicked gently at the hood of her clitoris before sucking it into her mouth. "Oh, yes," Shannon said, her hips squirming, her arms pulling taut against the handcuffs. Rebecca was between her legs now, bending over the bed with her ass sticking out, licking Shannon's moistening pussy and squeezing her ass cheeks, and Shannon was getting louder and louder.

I was mesmerized by Rebecca. I could see the reflection from her labia as her arousal increased by the moment. She was murmuring with pleasure, but not such that Shannon could figure out what was going on or that it was a woman diving into her.

My cock was stirring, and it went to full diamond cutter when I saw Rebecca's right hand go between her own legs and begin to rub her pussy.

I approached the bed and tapped Rebecca on the ass. Rebecca stopped and looked back at me. "You like?" I said to Shannon, and motioned Rebecca to resume. "Yes, I like," Shannon responded, her hips grinding.

I started grinding my hips against Rebecca's ass, sliding my cock between her ass cheeks and massaging her right hip. I tapped her again, and again she took her mouth from Shannon's pussy. "Shannon," I said, "remember when we used to talk about threesomes?"

Her body tightened. Rebecca flashed a smile at me and went back to work.

"What're you saying, Erik?" I said nothing, just let Rebecca continue to lap at her pussy and continued grinding my cock against Rebecca, occasionally reaching down to run a finger along her moistening pussy lips. "Erik," Shannon, pressed, her hips involuntarily grinding into Rebecca's mouth, unable to refuse herself the pleasure that was washing over her.

I tapped Rebecca again, and she stopped. "I was just saying," I said, smiling at Rebecca, "wouldn't it be cool? You think you'd like to try that sometime?"

Rebecca dove back in, and Shannon, apparently thinking I was just tossing the idea out there, relaxed and started grinding her hips, moaning louder. "Yeah," she murmured through groans, "sure Erik." She was panting now, getting close. "Sure, maybe we'll try that sometime."

Rebecca began moving a finger in and out of Shannon's pussy, licking the juices off every minute or so, her tongue flicking at the clit before sucking in the whole hood.

"Oh yes, Erik," Shannon said, her hips beginning to undulate and her belly rippling. "God, yes, I'm gonna cum. Yes, yes, just like that."

Rebecca's slit was now hot and wet, and I teased her pussy with the head of my cock, rubbing it up and down the lips before slowly pushing in. She pushed back into me, lifting her head briefly from Shannon's hips and biting her bottom lip. I rocked slowly back and forth, savoring the tightness, squeezing her ass cheeks, watching her lick and nibble at Shannon, watching Shannon begin to buck her hips.

"Oh God," Shannon cried, "keep going. Just like that." As Shannon's hips bucked more frantically, Rebecca started pushing back into me quicker, harder, her tightness spasming around my cock, milking it.

"Oh yes," I cried, in unison with Shannon, who was cumming forcefully. I didn't bother to first tap Rebecca on the shoulder, letting her take Shannon over the edge and trying, in turn, to get Rebecca there with us.

As Shannon's body relaxed, panting and murmuring her approval, Rebecca started frantically pushing back into me. "Harder," she said, "fuck me harder."

I did, for all I was worth. I was pistoning into her, squeezing her nipples, trying to hold out for her. "Erik," Shannon said, "who's that?" She was trying to sit up and look our way, but the handcuffs held her back. I watched her through heavy eyelids, ignoring her questions, concentrating on the job at hand.

"Yes," Rebecca hissed, "yes, yes, harder." She turned and kissed me deeply, her tongue exploring my mouth, her pussy pushing back at me.

After a moment, Rebecca put her head back between Shannon's legs, her tongue deep into her pussy, moving it in and out with the timing of my thrusts. Her thumb went to the top of Shannon's hips and began twirling her clit, rubbing in time with the action.

"Don't," Shannon cried, confused and scared. Her hips ignored the possibilities, though, and soon began grinding again.

I kept up my assault on Rebecca's pussy, and her breath started coming in shorter gasps. I looked down and saw the pucker of her ass, and I placed my thumb firmly over the center, pushing gently. "Yes," she said, "yes, just like that." She went back to Shannon, and I pushed in harder, breaking the seal and feeling it clench around my thumb, twitching as her orgasm approached. She pushed herself up, her hand going from Shannon's clit to her pussy, her fingers plunging in and out. "Come on," she gasped. I wasn't sure if she was talking to me or Shannon, and I didn't care.

I felt my cum boiling, straining for release. "I'm gonna cum," I said, twirling my thumb in her asshole and plunging one last time, deep, hard. I felt Rebecca's orgasm hit as I started shooting deep into her. "Oh yes," she cried, her pussy convulsing around my cock, her head diving back into Shannon's pussy, groaning deeply.

I stayed in her when I was done, letting my softening cock withdraw of its own accord, enjoying watching her bring Shannon again to the edge. Rebecca was bringing herself there again, as well, her hand now feverishly working her clit. I knelt behind her and started licking her pussy, spreading her ass cheeks and kneading them as I did so. Her groaning was again increasing, and Shannon's breath was again coming in short pants. Rebecca started mashing her hips back into my face, coming up for air occasionally to spur me on. Her hand disappeared from her clit and went back to Shannon–where, I don't know–and I heard Shannon gasp loudly followed by a long groan. "Oh yeah, just like that," she gasped.

After a few minutes, Shannon started bucking her hips and straining against her restraints, her orgasm rolling through her body in crashing waves. Rebecca kept on, her groaning turning to yelps as I felt her hips push harder into my face. Just as Shannon's waves subsided, Rebecca's ass tightened and she lifted her head, her shoulders heaving. "Goddamnit," she cried, "don't stop." I snaked a finger to her asshole and pressed, feeling it clench and unclench as my finger pushed in. She started bucking now, cumming with greater force than before. "Keep going," she panted, pushing back into me and rolling her hips, her body starting to spasm. She emitted a long, low groan and her body loosened.

I backed away, catching my breath, my face covered in her juices.

"You like?"

Rebecca nodded, catching her breath and unable to speak.

"Erik?" Shannon said. I couldn't respond, trying to catch my breath as well. "Who is she?" Shannon continued. She tried to raise herself up and stare through the blindfold at the beautiful creature between her legs. "Who are you? Please."

Rebecca started to respond and I slapped her ass, putting my finger to my lips.

"You want to know who she is?" I said, walking around the side of the bed and leaning in close to Shannon's face.

She nodded.

"Let's see if you can guess," I said, leaning over and brushing my lips against hers. Against her will, her lips responded, parting, her tongue seeking mine. We kissed like this for a few minutes, Shannon's response getting more urgent. I broke away.

"Do you taste her?" I whispered into her ear, and Shannon tensed. "Does that help?" Shannon said nothing.

"Maybe this will help," I said, kneeling on the bed beside her face, lifting her head to my soft cock. Shannon resisted, so I pushed my hips forward, my cock touching her lips. Shannon soon gave up the fight and took me into her mouth, slowly moving her head back and forth, sucking my cock into her mouth.

I responded quickly, my cock soon hardening. "Have you figured it out yet?" I said. She nodded around my cock, and I withdrew.

"It's Rebecca," she said when I was free of her.

I raised my eyebrows and looked at Rebecca, who was surprised as well. "What makes you say that?" I said.

"I can smell her. Her perfume. It's pretty distinctive." Busted.

"And let's assume you're right," I said. "Let's assume it is Rebecca. How does that make you feel?"

Shannon said nothing, biting her lower lip and turning away from me. Rebecca leaned forward again, softly kissing the tender insides of Shannon's thighs. Shannon tried to ignore this, but her hips started slowly undulating, trying to push closer. Rebecca spoke. "Please Shannon, tell me how that would make you feel. If I was Rebecca."

Shannon took in a deep breath, turning her masked face back to me. "Take the mask off and untie me and I'll show you." Rebecca traced her tongue up the length of Shannon's pussy, and Shannon sucked in her breath and raised her hips off the bed trying to follow Rebecca's tongue. When I said nothing, Shannon continued. "I won't leave, Erik. Really. C'mon, we have a deal."

I looked down the bed at Rebecca, who shrugged her shoulders and went back to work on Shannon, kissing her lower belly and ribcage. I went to the foot of the bed and untied the scarves around Shannon's ankles, went to the nightstand and grabbed the key and undid the handcuffs. When I undid the first one, Shannon's hand shot to the back of Rebecca's head and guided it back to her pussy. "I liked what you were doing before," she said, removing her mask when her second hand was freed.

Rebecca complied, going back between Shannon's legs and teasing her, only occasionally focusing in on her clit, kissing and licking her jutting hip bones and inner thighs. "Oh God," Shannon moaned, "I didn't know it could be this good." She was licking her lips, her right hand caressing through Rebecca's hair, no longer guiding her but just stroking her, her left hand pinching her nipples. I laid on the bed beside Shannon, brushing her belly and her other breast, occasionally rolling her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, licking it, brushing my lips in the hollow of her neck.

Shannon was gasping, panting, murmuring. She turned and kissed me deeply, groaning through our kiss. Rebecca was groaning again, and I watched her trail her hand from the inside of Shannon's thigh to below. Shannon gasped, and I assumed Rebecca was teasing her rosebud. I watched her hand reappear and smear Shannon's juices before disappearing again, and again Shannon gasped, her tongue pushing deeper into my mouth.

I broke the kiss and went back to Shannon's breast, and her hand left Rebecca's head and went to the back of mine. "This is too much," she panted. "I'm exploding all over." Her hips were again writhing, and I felt the bed shift as Rebecca broke contact and crawled up next to Shannon.

"You like?" she said, leaning in as Shannon turned to face her. Shannon nodded, reaching up to stroke the side of Rebecca's face, biting her lower lip and replacing Rebecca's mouth with her own hand. Rebecca leaned in closer and brushed her lips against Shannon's. "You taste good on me," Rebecca said, teasing Shannon's lips with the tip of her tongue. Shannon kissed her back, groaning and pushing my head toward her hips.

I obeyed gladly, shifting down the bed, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles as I did so. My eyes stayed glued on the women, though, as their kissing got more feverish, longer, deeper. When my mouth arrived at her pussy, Shannon's hand left and sought out Rebecca, squeezing her breasts with both hands now before one hand trailed a fingertip down Rebecca's arched back to the crack of her ass. Rebecca's breathing quickened, and her lips left Shannon's and went to the small of her throat, kissing around the tops of her breasts. I could see Shannon's hand trail around and underneath Rebecca, seeking out her pussy, her clit, and finding them before beginning a slow, teasing trail back and forth, in a little, circle. The touches were light, barely touches, and Rebecca responded with louder moans, arching her back more.

"I want you," Shannon gasped, my fingers now plunging hard and deep into her soaking wet slit as I sucked and licked on her clit. Rebecca looked up at Shannon, who nodded. "Now," she said. "Both of you." Rebecca kissed her deeply, kneading her breasts, and I pulled my fingers from her and started focusing on kissing her thighs, her labia, the small knot of her perineum, flicking and darting at the crinkle of her rosebud.

Rebecca broke the kiss, turned, and threw a leg over Shannon's head, leaning her pussy to Shannon's head. Shannon reached up with her hands and started stroking Rebecca's ass, pulling the cheeks apart, her head lifting a little as she pulled Rebecca to her. Her tongue snaked out, and she started slowly licking up and down, from the top of Rebecca's pussy to as far below as she could crane her neck. Rebecca started rolling her hips with the tongue, giving Shannon greater access.

I stood up and back, and Rebecca took my place between Shannon's legs. They were both moaning now, their sixty-nine slowly tangling and untangling. I watched Shannon wet a finger with Rebecca's juices before seeking out her asshole, which she circled slowly before going back for more juices, circle slowly, more juices, and–presto–start to press in. Rebecca's groans only increased with this, and her vigor increased between Shannon's legs.

Un fucking believable. I expected this from Rebecca. Hell, she told me this was her scene. But Shannon, no way. This was supposed to be a lot harder. Now, the only thing a lot harder was me, and I was lost in the scene before me.

"Erik," Shannon moaned, her arm reaching out for me, "fuck me. Fuck me now."

I didn't need to be asked twice, and I went to the base of the bed. Rebecca raised her head, looking me in the eyes, and I leaned in and kissed her deeply. When our kiss broke, I watched her lips lower to and encircle my cock, getting me ready. Below her head, I could see two fingers sawing in and out of Shannon's ass, her tight virgin ass loose and bucking with the thrusts. "Fuck me," Shannon said again, raising her hips from the bed toward Rebecca's bobbing head.

Rebecca took her lips from my cock and went back between Shannon's legs, her free hand grasping my cock and pulling me toward them, toward Shannon's soaking slit. When my engorged head touched the outer walls, Rebecca started licking and nibbling the top of my cock, her other hand reaching around, squeezing my ass, and slowly pulling me in. She guided me with the pressure of her hand, her lips alternating between my cock and Shannon's clit, her fingers keeping up their rhythm in Shannon's ass. I was in a daze, turned on beyond thinking by the scene before me.

Shannon started yelling. "Ah, ah, yes, oh fuck yes, yes . . . ." I looked up, my eyes following Rebecca's undulating back to her ass. Shannon was fingerfucking Shannon's asshole–in, out, in, out, in deeper, out, in to the hilt, slowly moving her finger in circles. Her mouth was plastered to Rebecca's dripping pussy, her tongue plunging in before licking all around, sucking her clit in deep before releasing and brushing her lips over the whole pussy.




Educating Shannon



When I was all the way in–finally all the way in–Rebecca's hand kept me there, pulling me toward her hard and letting Shannon grind her hips up and down mine while Rebecca licked above her hood. Shannon's panting was increasing, and she was incredibly hot. I leaned over and kissed Rebecca between the shoulder blades to the base of her neck, her skin hot and rippling from the sights and sensations coursing through her. After a moment, I felt Rebecca's hand pulling my ass cheeks apart and her fingertip brushing my ass, light as a feather then more insistent in the center, light twirling, press.

Shannon was grinding hard now, her breath coming in shorter pants, when Rebecca's finger broke through and pushed in my ass, her finger circling around before withdrawing a little and pushing in further. I leaned back and groaned, overcome with the sensation racing through my entire groin, my balls tightening and my cock twitching. Rebecca raised her head and looked at me. "Not yet," she said, her finger withdrawing and going back to squeezing my ass. With her finger's withdrawal my cock came back under control, and I began to slowly withdraw before pushing back to the hilt, holding it for a few seconds before repeating.

Shannon started bucking hard now, screaming with relief as I felt her pussy go crazy on my cock, her head turning away from Rebecca's pussy and locking onto her inner thigh as she groaned through another orgasm. Rebecca was tensing up as well, licking my cock and Shannon's clit feverishly, her hand picking up pace in Shannon's ass.

When Shannon's body went slack, Rebecca looked up into my eyes. "My turn, Erik," she said, "fuck me. Fuck me hard."

I nodded, slowly withdrawing, my cock quickly replaced by Rebecca's hungry tongue. I nearly sprinted around the bed while Shannon shifted her body down to make room for me. I got up behind Rebecca, my balls hanging over Shannon's face. Shannon averted her attention and took my balls into her mouth, one at a time, sucking gently, before licking around the base of my cock. She tugged it down and took it deep into her throat, her fingers rubbing Rebecca's soaking lips to make her ready.

I started pushing in further, faster, fucking Shannon's mouth, bending over and licking Rebecca's crinkled back hole, my tongue forming a spear and darting in and out. Rebecca was gasping, pushing her ass back onto my tongue, forcing me in deeper. "Yes," Rebecca said, "fuck me there. Fuck my ass." I pushed my tongue in harder. "Your cock," she panted, "I want your cock in my ass."

I quickly pulled my cock from Shannon's mouth, hearing a pop as she sucked to the very last. "Oh yes," Shannon moaned, "this is so fucking hot. Put it there." I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a tube of lube, rubbing it generously up and down my cock before squeezing a great dollop onto Rebecca's ass and rubbing it thoroughly around and in. Rebecca was moaning in anticipation, her asshole spasming around my invading finger. Shannon reached her hands around and spread Rebecca's cheeks wide, and I placed the engorged head of my cock firmly against the relaxing knot of her sphincter.

"Let me do this," Rebecca panted, pushing back slowly. "Don't move."

I held still, one hand on her ass cheek, the other caressing her back, my eyes watching in wonder as she slowly pushed back, then forward a little, back a little further, forward. Shannon's tongue went back to Rebecca's pussy, and Rebecca started gasping, yelping in pleasure. "Oh yes, keep it up," she said, pushing back harder and keeping the pressure. After what seemed forever, her asshole loosened and the head of my cock popped in quickly, clenching like a vice around me. "Oooohhhh," she moaned, holding still for a moment before resuming the push, pull, push, pull. My cock was on fire, gloved by the warm sheath of her ass, squeezed by her tight sphincter, twitching in anticipation.

"Go slowly," Rebecca moaned, her facing plunging back to Shannon's wet sex. I did, pushing in a little deeper each time until I was finally balls deep and held it there. Rebecca pushed back against me hard, straining to get it in deeper still, and Shannon's mouth went to work on my balls, alternating between me and Rebecca, whose body started convulsing in a long, deep orgasm. "I'm cummmmmiiinnnngggg," she wailed, pulling forward suddenly before slamming back onto my cock all the way. Her body was on fire, and I could feel the rippling from her belly through to my cock, her asshole tightening and loosening, sucking me in and letting me out.

"Fuck her ass hard," Shannon encouraged, licking around my balls, her eyes glazed over with lust.

"Yes," Rebecca seconded, "fuck me harder." So I did, slamming back and forth for all I was worth, slowly for awhile, then like a piston. Rebecca was grunting from the force, her head moving back and forth between Shannon's legs. Then Shannon started to tighten, her toes curling out and her hip grinding up. She was cumming again, also, but her mouth never left Rebecca's pussy. I could hear them both sucking on each other, licking, moaning through their mouthfuls, gasping and panting. I felt the familiar tingling starting at my back and said, "I'm getting close."

"Shoot it in my ass," Rebecca said between licks, slamming back into me with greater force than ever. My balls started to tighten and I tried to hold it back, enjoying the sensations coursing through my nerve endings. Rebecca started to cum again, yet more forcefully this time. "Oh God, fuck my ass," she shouted, "fill my ass with your cum."

I built to a full boil and shot wave after wave of cum deep into her, pulling her ass back onto me deeply as I did so and holding her there. "Oh yes," she said, groaning and leaning forward, turning her cheek onto Shannon's pubis, her body slumping, spent.

Shannon's hands fell from Rebecca's ass and her arms flung straight out, her legs relaxing and stretching outward.

Still, I held my cock in Rebecca's ass, watching as it softened slowly before sliding out, her asshole re-sealing itself against its invader. I leaned forward and brushed kisses over Rebecca's back, causing her to shiver with the tingles. "That was fucking awesome," I murmured. Rebecca only smiled, her head not moving.

I felt Shannon shift out from under us, and I moved my legs to let her go. She turned on the bed and laid next to Rebecca, who lay there full out, catching her breath. "Thank you," she said, her lips brushing against Rebecca's lips.

Rebecca closed her eyes and kissed her back, draping her arm around Shannon's midsection and pulling her in closer. Shannon continued kissing her, occasionally nibbling or sucking on an earlobe.

Shannon reached her hand out to me and, when I took it, pulled me into them. I spooned behind Rebecca, stroking her arms and kissing the back and sides of her neck and shoulders.

Rebecca leaned over, and I heard her whisper into Shannon's ear. "I heard you talking before," she said, nibbling on Shannon's earlobe, blowing softly. "I know what you mean," she continued. "I feel dirty, too. Real dirty." She kissed lightly at the base of Shannon's neck before returning to her earlobe, sucking gently. "And." Suck gently. "I." Again. "Fucking." Again. "Love it." And she went back and kissed her full on the lips, snaking her tongue in briefly before breaking the kiss and turning over her shoulder, whereupon I kissed her long and deep, sliding my hand over the top of her hips and down to the cleft between her legs.

Shannon said nothing, opting instead to lower her head and suck in a nipple.

We laid like that for a few hours, licking, kissing, nibbling, stroking each other, our limbs entwined in a slowly writhing pile of heat. Just feeling each other, tasting each other, snuggling in our post coital bliss, enjoying the closeness and the comfort. I was spent by my last earth shattering orgasm, but not the girls. They each came a few more times, but more gradually, quietly, almost luxuriantly, enjoying the time it took and the feelings it raised.

A man could get used to this.

* * *

The next morning, the girls sat at my breakfast counter sipping coffee while I made French toast and bacon. They were dressed in panties and old dress shirts of mine, sleeves rolled up and buttoned low on the clefts in their breasts. I was in pajama bottoms and a t-shirt.

"I think we've seen enough to know what's there," Rebecca was saying. Shannon only nodded, looking at me for more.

I agreed. "Now's the time," I said. "Strike while the iron's hot. Go at them with a settlement offer–take it or leave it–and see what they do." "I agree," said Rebecca. "He'll be forced to take it."

"What about the evidence?" Shannon said.

"I'll call together a conference, us and them. We'll all sit around a table, and we'll present the offer. When they laugh, Rebecca will fetch the computer–already fired up, but no log in–and we'll put it on the table."

"So what do we demand?" Shannon said.

"A lot," I responded. And we discussed the specifics over breakfast.

* * *

On Tuesday afternoon, the conference was a reality, as was their response. When Rebecca placed the laptop on the table in front of Ron Hollis, he froze, his face white as a ghost.

"So?" said the leader of his three-man litigation team.

"Why don't you tell them what's on there, Mr. Hollis?" I said, my face impassive.

He only stared in response. His lawyer spoke again. "What is it?"

I only raised my eyebrow in response.

After a long minute of silence, Hollis spoke. "You didn't get onto it," he said. "It's password protected. Can't be broken." He looked at me, regaining his composure and confidence. "You're bluffing."

"Will someone please tell me what the fuck . . . ."

I cut off his lawyer by reaching over the table and pressing seven keys on the computer. Slowly, one by one, in front of Hollis. I stopped, looking him in the eye. "You want to hit the last one?"

He looked at me, fury in his eyes. Then he looked at Shannon, hatred snarling his lips. "You can't do this," he hissed. "I'll ruin you. I'll ruin all of you." He turned to his lawyer. "Is this admissible?"

"Is what admissible?" his lawyer said. "Nobody's bothered to tell me yet what this big display is all about."

"I'll tell you," Rebecca chirped up, reaching toward the computer. "Better yet, I'll show you."

Hollis snatched her wrist. "No," he said. "I'll take the deal." He pushed Rebecca's wrist away. "I'll take the fucking deal." He looked at me. "But I get this computer back." I nodded.

"How do I know you haven't made copies?" he said, his eyes narrowing.

"You don't," I responded.

"How do I know you won't tell the . . . ah . . . you know."

I shook my head. "Can't have you ruined. Wipe you out, you can't pay these generous terms you've agreed to, now can you?" I smiled. "But you may want to spend whatever money you have left guarding your former wife. Anything happens to her, even a scratch, and I'm releasing it. Got it?" Hollis nodded. "But no following, no harassing, no nothing. Not even a single fucking problem."

The lawyer cut in again. "You can't talk to him . . . ."

Hollis cut him off with an impatient wave of his arm. "Shut up," he said. "We lost."

The attorney looked at me–hell, all of his attorneys looked at me–wondering what was on that computer. I only shrugged and pushed the settlement documents forward, a pen lying on top. "Then sign," I said. "We'll schedule this for tomorrow morning and get it over with as quickly as possible."

* * *

The hearing the next morning was perfunctory, a mere formality necessary to enter the settlement documents and get the judge's signature on the judgment of divorce. When it was over, Shannon and I walked together down the hallway to our respective cars.

"Well," I said, "it's over."

"And quickly, too," she said. "A lot faster than you said it would be."

"Well, events kind've overtook us. And we had to run with them or lose our chance."

She only nodded, and we were silent in the elevator ride down and out the doors into the parking lot. As we neared her car, parked six or seven closer than mine, she stopped and turned to me.

"How much is left on the bill?" she said, her face a mask.

I shrugged. "Bout six, maybe sixty-one hundred."

She nodded and turned to unlock her car door. "I'll get you a check," she said, shutting the door behind her, starting her car, and driving off.

I had half expected this, of course. There was nothing forcing her to keep the deal once we were done. What was I going to do, sue her for chrissakes?

Still, not even a fucking thank you, a peck on the cheek. She hadn't changed a bit, I thought bitterly, and I mulled this over as I walked to my car and drove back to the office.

* * *

Saturday night I waited for her, hoping against hope she would honor our bargain. I had certainly kept up my part. In spades, actually. Hell, she was fucking rich now, and she had her kids and a very handsome allowance. She owed me.

But she didn't show, and I fell asleep on the couch at around midnight, suddenly feeling very alone.

* * *

Tuesday's mail brought, amongst a dozen other things, a plain white envelope bearing a check for seven grand, signed at the bottom "Shannon Ryan."

Oh well, at least she paid. Too much, actually, and I sent her a check back for a grand. I didn't want to owe her anything.

* * *

The following Saturday night I got home late, about eight thirty. A long day at the office working on some complex trusts for a disgustingly rich farm family trying to keep it away from Uncle Sam. I was tired and my head throbbed. I needed a drink.

I went to my den in search of a bottle of scotch and some aspirin. When I opened the door, she turned to face me.

"Hello, Erik," she said cooly, throwing a stack of pictures back on my desk. "I hope you don't mind, but I let myself in."

"What do you want, Shannon," I said, walking past her and behind my desk, opening a drawer and pulling out a bottle of scotch and two glasses. I held a glass up toward her and she nodded. I filled them both, three fingers, and slid one over toward her. "Well?"

She reached into her purse and pulled out my check. "I came to return this." She placed it on the desk in front of me, leaning low and giving me a peek down her dress at the tops of her tits, straining to be freed.

I looked back at her eyes and noticed she caught me looking. "I don't want it back, Shannon. We had a deal, and I didn't earn that." "Then think of is as a bonus," she said, sipping her scotch, crinkling her nose, and trying another sip.

I sucked some scotch in and let it sit there, the fiery liquid warming my mouth, its aroma traveling up my nasal passage. I put the glass back down. "No bonuses," I said. "I'm paid to do a job and I do it. I do it really well, I get paid what I quoted; I do it crappy, I still get paid the same. I, at least, keep my part of the bargain." I took another drink and watched her take the check and put it back in her purse.

"I kept my part," she said. "We had a deal, but you also said I could pay you if I didn't want to go through with it any more. And now I have the cash."

I nodded. "Yeah. Got me. Again." I finished my glass and poured another, my muscles relaxing and my headache subsiding.

Shannon took another sip and let it sit in her mouth this time, watching me as she did so. After the liquid slid down her slender throat, she spoke. "I've been thinking. A lot. I don't really know what that was all about is what I was thinking. The last month. Our . . . sessions." She raised her eyebrow, but I said nothing. "You see," she continued after a moment and another sip, "it took a lot of thinking to realize a few things. First, you have one hell of a memory. You remembered things we did–didn't do, actually–and said years ago." She put the glass down before her and curled her legs up in front of her, wrapping her arms around them. "And you used that knowledge against me."

I didn't say anything. What could I say? She was right.

"But then I realized something else." She grabbed the glass and took a longer drink, nearly finishing it off before sliding it back toward me. I poured some more, pushed it back to her side of the desk, and she continued, looking at the glass as she spoke. "I realized you didn't hurt me." She looked at me. "Yeah, I was humiliated at first. Especially the first time. But I'd never really done that before, you know, so openly. And I liked it, hell, loved it. And I'm pretty sure you knew I'd like it. Then the second time, you gave me what I'd always dreamed about. And you made sure the dream came true, better than my wildest dreams. Yeah, you spanked me and did things I'd never done, but you did it just enough to make it real, to make it–my dream, my fantasy–come true." A tear formed and started to roll down her cheeks. "I thought you were going to use me as your fuck toy. And to a certain degree, you did. But you made sure I got the full experience. Every time, it was all centered on me."

I pushed a box of kleenex toward her and she took one, dabbing at her tear ducts. She composed herself and took another drink of scotch, again letting it sit there before swallowing and sucking in air afterward. "This stuff is pretty good," she said. "I've never tried it." I nodded, still not saying anything. "Just like I'd never tried . . . well . . . the last time. But she was right, Rebecca was. It was dirty. What you were doing. But that was kind of the point, wasn't it? Not just the same old boring missionary fuck, but something new. New experiences, pleasures. New highs."

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing, just smiled sadly.

"It's funny," she said, "but what took me longest to realize was just how good a person you are." She sniffled. "You didn't really think you were doing all of that for me. You probably saw it as an opportunity to try things you never tried, to hell with whether I'd like it or not. But deep down, in your soul, you couldn't bring yourself to really stick it to me, to really hurt me, degrade me. You never called me cunt or slut or whore or any of those things." She looked up, the tears starting. "And I'm pretty sure that's what you think of me, what you think I am." I shook my head, but she pressed forward. "Yes, you do. And you have every right to, the way I treated you. No, deep down, you still loved me, couldn't hurt me. Not really."

"And then I got this in the mail," she said, looking at the check sticking out the top of her purse. "And I realized something." She looked at me. "You know what that was?"

"You never said thank you," I said.

She nodded. "Those first two nights, you kept saying it. 'It's not all about you this time. This time it's all about me.' And then I get the check back, thinking I could buy you off, say thank you with money." She tucked her face into her knees, her voice lowering to a whisper. "But it wasn't about the money at all. Never was with you. I thought it was about getting even with me, but it wasn't even that, was it?" She looked back at me, through the top of her knees, and I shook my head.

"No," I said. "No, I just wanted to hear you say it. Maybe give me a hug and say it. And mean it."

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice hoarse, trying to break through her crying. "Thank you for my children. Thank you for the money, for the support, for the house. And thank you for getting that fucking bastard out of my life. And making him stay out."

I watched her, trying to bury her face, not able to look me in the eyes as she spoke.

"And I'm sorry for being such a rotten fucking bitch to you. I'm sorry for not . . . for . . . ." She couldn't say more, her sobbing now racking her shoulders.

I stood up, walked around the desk, and kneeled by her chair. I stroked her hair, rubbed her shoulders. "Come on," I said, uncomfortable. "Settle down, it's fine. Everything's fine now. You're safe, you've got the kids."